A634.9.4.RB - A Reflection of Our Learning

After studying ethics for the past nine weeks, my biggest takeaways are fairly simple: 1) Avoid slipper-slope arguments; 2) Embrace opposing opinions — when they’re thought through; and 3) Answers are less important than questions.

I picked avoiding slipper-slope arguments as my first real takeaway because of just how popular they are in society. People lean on slipper-slopes constantly, it seems, even though they don’t have a lot of weight behind them. As an argument, they’re faulty, because they serve mostly to deflect. Instead of focusing on the issue at hand, slippery slopes allude to possible future outcomes that are impossible to predict, using them as the reason why a particular course of action is wrong in the first place. Even worse, though, they rely on fear, not logic, to make their points. In short: Slippery-slope arguments sound good, but they’re usually weak and lazy, and I’ll be trying to avoid them from here out.

When it comes to opposing viewpoints, I believe we’re ethically obligated to make an effort toward open-mindedness. Together with this idea is the concept that we should also be open to the idea that our own first, knee-jerk reactions might not be valid, rational or logical. It reminds me of the Alcoholics Anonymous cliché that goes “Feelings aren’t facts.” I see that as a big facet of ethical thinking, and of measuring the worth of opinions (other people’s and our own).  This class has reinforced the idea that, while emotions are compelling and generally control our first impressions, they are not “reasons” to continue believing something to be true or false, and they’re not enough on which to base an argument. Feelings feel important, but they’re often misleading. If we can begin to acknowledge our feelings without blindly following them, I think we would be much better off, both personally on a mental health level and also culturally in how we behave toward one another.

Finally, answers are less important than questions. Ethics as a practice are murky and uncertain. There are no hard and fast “right” or “wrong” answers — and in a lot of ways, that’s the point. Being an ethical person doesn’t happen through rigidly following a set of doctrines built by other people; it happens by having the courage to challenge one’s self, one’s perceptions, and one’s motives. It happens by living according to a code that is open to alterations and improvements. Understanding that so much in life is dependent on context, for me, informs my ethical journey, and I have to be willing to re-examine long-held beliefs, not cling to them as if they were tried and true facts, if I hope to grow and evolve as a person. Life is too complicated for blacks and whites, and so avoiding looking for them, looking for “answers,” seems to be a good way to ensure that I continue asking questions, challenging the status quo, and remaining open to change.

There’s value in all of these reflections, even though some of them are simple. Slippery-slope arguments, for instance, have always felt cheap to me, but now I have the words to articulate why, and that emboldens my drive to cut them out of my life. In a lot of ways, I’ve found that this class is about personal effort. It’s so focused on critical thinking that I think students end up getting out of it what they put in. I feel that’s true of most things in life, and it’s especially true with ethics. One might fall into making sound ethical decisions from time to time (or even most of the time), but the only way they can ensure consistency in that area is to put in the effort, ask the tough questions, and challenge themselves.

I’ve noticed a similar truth in my drive to get this graduate degree. This isn’t like undergrad for me — I don’t need this degree to land a job or pad my resume. I’m doing it for me, and that has made the hours and hours (and hours and hours) of coursework that I’ve invested into the program less painful — and more rewarding. There’s value in reflection, even if the action following it doesn’t happen right away. That’s maybe my biggest takeaway here. There’s value in just … thinking, because you can get better at thinking, and that’s how you get better at everything.