[Adapted from Thomas I. White, Discovering Philosophy
(Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1991]
Outline
ETHICS:
"MASCULINE" JUSTICE VERSUS "FEMININE" CARE
Kohlberg's
"masculine" ethics of justice
Stages
of ethical development
How
valid is Kohlberg's scheme?
Carol
Gilligan's "feminine" ethic of care
Stages
of development
The
ethics of justice and the ethics of care compared
Justice,
care, and the case of Roger and Hal
Similarities
and differences
WHAT
ARE THE IMPLICATIONS OF THIS RESEARCH?
Care, justice
and traditional philosophical ethics
Care
and justice: the philosophical significance
A
FINAL NOTE
SUGGESTED
READINGS
At one time hardly anyone
considered the differences in the way men and women think an
issue for serious discussion. It was simply assumed for many
years in our male-dominated society that the way that men thought
and acted was clearly superior. The women's movement rightly
challenged this assumption. It also led to a new exploration
of "feminine" and "masculine," to a recognition of both the
similarities and differences between the two genders, and to
an appreciation of the unique value of each.
Since the early 1980s, a
growing body of research in psychology suggests that there are
some important differences between the ways that men think and
the ways women think, and that these differences may have origins
that are more complex than the mere differences in childhood
training. Pioneered by the Harvard psychologist Carol Gilligan,
this research focused on differences in how men and women perceive
and resolve ethical dilemmas.
The following case will
prepare you for the next stage of our discussion. Read it and
think about it for a few minutes.
Consider a small company
whose policy about sick days reads like this: "Employees are
allowed a maximum of 12 sick days each year. After the 8th
day, employees receive a verbal warning. After the 10th day,
employees receive a written warning. Any employee exceeding
the 12 days will be terminated."
Lots of companies have
similar policies, and everyone is usually pretty well satisfied
with them. One year, however, the company faced a difficult
problem. Two employees, Hal and Roger, had used all 12 of
their allotted sick days. Hal had been with the company
for 2 years. He was a so-so worker--not great, not terrible--but
his boss suspected that most of Hal's "sick" days were not
legitimate and that he was just taking additional time off
when he felt like it. Roger was a very good worker who had
been with the company 10 years. His child has become seriously
ill during the past year, however, and Roger frequently
needed to take him to the hospital for treatments. He used
up his vacation and personal days in this way and now he
was using his sick time for the same reason. Both men were
called in and warned about their misuse of sick days. The
following week, both took another day off.
Imagine that you are the executive
who has to decide what happens to the two workers and think about
the situation you face. How would you describe the problem? What
facts and issues in the case are most important, and how do they
bear on what you do? Do you see this as an "ethical" problem?
Is it "right" or "wrong" to fire the two men? What about keeping
Roger and firing Hal? What implications does your action have
for all the other employees of the company? What decision would
you make?
Jot down your answers to
these questions, ask other people what they think, and compare
your answers to theirs. Pay special attention not so much to
their final decision about whether or not to fire anyone but
how they arrive at their answers. Does everybody see
the problem the same way? Do they all grapple with the same
issues? Does everybody agree about what the most important facts
are? Do most of the men you speak with see the problem one way
and most of the women another way?
ETHICS:
"MASCULINE" JUSTICE VERSUS "FEMININE" CARE
[back
to top]
There are almost as many
systems of "personal ethics" as there are people. Where do such
differences come from?
Beyond the impact on our
ethical outlook of family, religion, and personal choice, some
people claim that gender plays an important role. Some researchers
claim that men and women differ in how they decide on what is
"right" and what is "wrong." The landmark book published in
1982 by the moral development psychologist Carol Gilligan stimulated
the latest round of research into whether there might not actually
be some basic differences in how men and women think about these
and other matters.
We all evaluate our own
and other people's actions many times a day. If you compare
and contrast how you decide what to do and how you appraise
what other people do with the ethical styles of same-sex and
opposite-sex friends and associates, you may not see a hard
and fast linkage with gender. You will probably be able to distinguish
two fundamentally different approaches that people use in evaluating
their own and others' actions. One approach, which prizes reason
and objectivity, applies the same rules impartially across the
board. The ideas of rights, justice, and fairness
are paramount here. The other approach, which combines reason
with emotions, holds that we should do what is most appropriate
within the particular circumstances of the case. This approach
stresses responsibility to people in need; its central
moral principle is care, rather than justice.
The questionnaire you completed
helps you identify your ethical style. The higher your J score,
the more your ethics are based on the need for justice
. Some would call these ethics typically masculine. The
higher your C score, the more care underlies your ethics.
Such ethics have been identified as typically feminine.
Actually, it is unclear just closely much these different styles
can be correlated with gender. In practice, many men and women
cross from one to the other. Furthermore, some people are very
strongly J or C, while others are more balanced. Nonetheless,
the odds are high that within any typical group, more men will
have higher J scores than C scores while women's scores will
be in the reverse.
The debate over whether
on not there are two ethical styles that can be related to gender
arose as an unintended result of research done by the late Harvard
psychologist Lawrence Kohlberg (1927-1987). Kohlberg sought
to discover the process by which we develop our sense of morality.
His research convinced him that to go from an undeveloped to
a mature sense of ethics, we pass through a series of distinct
stages. When Carol Gilligan, also at Harvard, discovered that
Kohlberg's system placed women lower than men on his ethical
ladder and that all of Kohlberg's subjects were male,
she looked to see if a female sample would yield different results.
She thinks they do.
Taking first things first,
we will start with Kohlberg's research because that is what
led to Gilligan's work.
Kohlberg's
"masculine" ethics of justice [back
to top]
Kohlberg's research was
inspired by the work the great Swiss psychologist Jean Piaget
who had tried to connect the development of a child's moral
judgment to its overall cognitive development. Kohlberg believed
that as the whole human personality matures, our thinking about
right and wrong starts at a preconventional level, then
progresses to a conventional level, then finally arrives
at postconventional thinking. Each of these three levels
has two specific stages. Kohlberg's research included subjects
from many cultures, and therefore he believed that he was uncovering
a universal innate developmental structure of the human personality.
Stages
of ethical development [back
to top]
At the preconventional
level, we understand "good" and "bad" in a very primitive way.
This stage runs from about age 4 to 10. (Kohlberg does not see
anything of consequence taking place in ethical development
before age 4.) In Stage 1, all that counts is power.
"Good" is what the person with the most power says is good.
We do what is right only to avoid punishment, and we regulate
our dealings with others so as not to provoke anyone who is
stronger than we are. In Stage 2 we advance only a little.
Now something is "good" because it will satisfy some need we
have. We come to value reciprocity, a notion well put in the
proposition "You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours." This
notion, of course, is still totally self-oriented. "Right" and
"wrong" are just labels that indicate whether something brings
us pleasure or pain.
Conventional morality,
the next level, marks a major advance over in that we shift
our focus from ourselves to others. The expectations of our
family, or the rules of our society, now become our moral standard.
At Stage 3 of this level, an action is "good" if it pleases
other people, helps them, or at least tries to. Generally, we
adopt traditional and stereotyped ways of behaving without questioning
them. Our purpose is to act in ways that will make other people
like and accept us. Next, in Stage 4, authority and law
and order become more important. Now we think that respecting
authority, obeying rules, doing our duty, and maintaining the
status quo are morally right for their own sake--no matter what
the circumstances. Conforming to the traditions of our group
is a major virtue. So many people are so comfortable at this
level that only one in four advances to Kohlberg's final level.
When and if we move into
the third, postconventional level as adults, we develop
an appreciation for moral principles that do not depend on what
anyone thinks but are valid in and of themselves. This level
of is the stage of autonomous, individual ethical thinking,
like the earlier levels, also has two stages. Stage
5 thinking utilizes the ideas of utilitarianism and the
"social contract" which promote free agreement, individual rights,
and democratic processes and institutions. As Kohlberg notes,
"this is the `official' morality of American government, and
finds its ground in the thought of the writers of the Constitution."
At this stage, we decide whether an action is right or wrong
by an impartial assessment of how fair it is, how well it respects
the rights of others, and how far it advances the common good.
Stage 6 goes beyond this to individually realized ethical
principles that are abstract and universal, the Golden Rule,
for example, or Immanuel Kant's categorical imperative. These,
says Kohlberg, "are universal principles of justice,
of the reciprocity and equality of human rights,
and of respect for the dignity of human beings as individual
persons." Now we assess the ethical character of actions
in terms of the principles we have chosen to apply and to which
we have a deep personal allegiance. Something is right or wrong
depending on how it measures up to these principles.
Kohlberg's scheme is often
called an ethics of justice. Like the representation
of Justice wearing a blindfold, the person at Stage 6 refuses
to see anything that could sway his or her decision. There are
no extenuating circumstances, no special cases, no emotions.
Everything must be rational, objective, and impartial.
How
valid is Kohlberg's scheme? [back
to top]
Kohlberg's analysis makes
a good deal of sense. The process of moral development, he says,
means moving toward a progressively less self-centered and ever
more complex and abstract ethical outlook. We start with a selfish
way of determining right and wrong, give that up for other people's
judgments, then grow beyond that to a view of morality as an
expression of ultimate principles--justice, fairness, and respect
for individual rights and human dignity. Kohlberg's stages also
test out empirically. His evidence shows that everyone can be
placed at one of his six stages as they pass through what turns
out to be the same sequence.
Some researchers raised
questions about Kohlberg's theory, however, when they saw that
most women do not go past Stage 3--that is, they determine right
and wrong according to whether or not an act helps or pleases
others. If women achieve no higher levels than this, either
they are morally inferior to men or something is wrong with
the theory.
Carol
Gilligan's "feminine" ethic of care
[back
to top]
Harvard psychologist Carol
Gilligan studied Kohlberg's findings and found them wanting.
Because all Kohlberg's subjects were male, Kohlberg could not
have taken into account the different socialization of little
girls and little boys in our culture. Males are traditionally
socialized to be autonomous and independent, while females are
supposed to be passive but loving caretakers for the members
of their group. Gilligan argues that these differences lead
to different values. She writes,
For the men, this had
led to a morality based on equal rights and devotion to abstract
principles even at the sacrifice of people's well-being. For
the women, it had led to a morality based on caring, in which
increasing maturity broadened the scope of the person's sense
of responsibility and compassion. For mature women, the goal
became not equality but equity, in responding to people's
differing needs.
Gilligan's subsequent research
suggests that Kohlberg missed an alternate way of thinking about
right and wrong, an approach used by both men and women, but used
far more frequently by women. In this outlook, care and
responsibility to others, rather than justice and individual
rights become the fundamental ethical principles. Gilligan claims
that this ethical outlook defines an ethical issue mainly in terms
of helping others and minimizing harm. The most basic moral command
becomes "an injunction to care, a responsibility to discern and
alleviate the `real and recognizable trouble' of this world."
If ethics is essentially a matter of getting involved with other
people's lives in order to reduce their troubles, then, we have
a responsibility to help others. Thus in the view of most women,
she says, "the moral person is one who helps others; goodness
is service, meeting one's obligations and responsibilities to
others."
From this ethical perspective,
every situation is different, and appropriate responses will
vary from case to case, depending on the details. Every problem,
then, calls for a tailor-made solution, not something
"off the rack." In fact, Gilligan's "care" outlook is often
called a "response" orientation.
Stages
of development [back
to top]
Like Kohlberg, Gilligan
thinks that people develop through a series of stages on their
way to "moral maturity" (although the stages are less central
to her thought than to Kohlberg's and are given much briefer
treatment). Whereas Kohlberg's stages involve a progressively
more abstract way of thinking about ethics, however, Gilligan
describes stages that involve a woman's developing an advanced
sense of responsibility.
The first stage is characterized
by caring only for the self in order to ensure survival.
This is how we all are as children. Then comes a transitional
phase when others criticize this attitude as selfish and the
individual begins to see connections between herself and others.
The second stage is characterized by a sense of responsibility.
"Good" is equated with caring for others, a value readily captured
in the traditional role of wife and mother. Such devotion to
caring for other people often leads to ignoring the self, however,
and this ultimately gives way to a second transition in which
the tensions between the responsibility of caring for others
and the desire to have one's own needs met are faced. Finally
the third stage is defined by an acceptance of the principle
of care as a universal ethical principle which schemes exploitation
and hurt in the lives of others and ourselves.
The
ethics of justice and the ethics of care compared
[back
to top]
Justice,
care, and the case of Roger and Hal
[back
to top]
According to Gilligan, men
and women look at ethical situations through different "lenses,"
with each one revealing something different. Suppose we look
again at the case of Roger's and Hal's sick days first through
one lense, then through the other. As you will see, the problem
underlying the case looks entirely different, depending on which
one we use.
Through Kohlberg's "justice"
lense, we see a problem of fairness. The policy is explicit,
and it has served the interests of the company and the workers
very well. The ethical problem is obviously whether we should
treat Roger and Hal the same or treat them differently.
We all feel sorry for Roger,
but the rules are clear and they have to apply the same to everyone.
We might want to treat Roger differently than Hal, but how can
we? That wouldn't be fair to Hal. And according to Kohlberg's
hierarchy, acting according to an abstract principle of fairness--the
requirement that we treat similar cases the same way--is ethically
superior to giving in to our personal sympathy towards Roger.
We must apply the rules consistently.
What if we gave both men
another chance? That would hardly be fair to people who were
fired in the past for exceeding 12 sick days. Nor would it be
fair to the other employees, many of whom may want or need to
take extra sick days but don't. Perhaps they have a problem
with some other policy. If we make this exception for Roger,
aren't we setting a dangerous precedent and opening a Pandora's
box? Wouldn't everybody now expect special treatment? Without
a policy, decisions could end up being arbitrary, and we cannot
do business in a way that meets everyone's interests if we make
exceptions all the time. That would be chaos
When we view the case in
this way, we are hard pressed to defend treating the two men
differently from each other or from the way the policy clearly
specifies. Anything other than identical treatment appears unjust,
unfair, and sure to cause more problems than it solves.
Through a "care" lense,
however, the problem looks quite different. Now it seems to
involve our responsibility to help someone in need. Given this
assumption, treating Hal and Roger the same seems indefensible.
If the facts we have are correct and complete, clearly Roger
and his son need help more than Hal does. Making some special
arrangements for Roger will not hurt others in the company--and
may, in fact, reassure them that the company will help them
too should they find themselves with a serious problem on their
hands. If we do not assist Roger with this unusual and difficult
problem, we will have violated the principle of care.
The question is no longer
"do we apply or ignore the policy?" From a "care" point of view,
policies are for normal cases, not unusual ones. Because this
is an unusual case, the primary question, then, is, "What is
ethically appropriate to these special circumstances?"
From this perspective, special treatment for Roger is not "setting
a precedent." It is not going to come back to haunt us, as the
"justice" outlook would have it. Making an exception to policy
this time does not mean that we would do so in every case. Nor
would such an exception constitute arbitrariness. We are trying
"to discern and alleviate the `real and recognizable trouble'
of this world." To find a solution tailor-made to a special
circumstance, we must be guided by the facts of each case.
With all this in mind, we
can perhaps say that treating Hal and Roger the same is not
"fair." The essence of fairness is treating similar cases the
same. But these two employees are in very different situations.
Circumstances are beyond Roger's control--not so Hal's. Roger's
problem is real and serious. He also has a better work history
with the company. The two cases differ so much that in fact
it may be unfair to treat them the same.
From which perspective would
you view the case of Roger and Hal if it were yours to decide.
Look back at the results of that short self-inventory you took
a few pages ago. The odds are that if you have a high "J" score,
you probably think Roger and Hal should be treated the same.
If you have a high "C" score, you probably think it would be
wrong not to give Roger special treatment.
Similarities
and differences [back
to top]
Gilligan's model of moral
development resembles Kohlberg's in a couple of ways. Both progress
from a totally self-centered outlook to one governed by a central
moral principle. Both begin with an emphasis on the greater
authority or importance of someone else, but culminate in a
personal forging of one's own ethics.
The differences between
these two approaches, however, are more striking than the similarities.
For one thing, the moral principles arrived at are very different.
Treating people impartially according to abstract principles
of justice is more detached and less personal than reducing
the amount of pain and suffering in the world. Although both
values are important, "respecting someone's rights" affects
the lives of ordinary people less immediately than "reducing
their sorrow and unhappiness."
More notably,
perhaps, Gilligan's findings speak to the psychological struggle
of women against our society's traditional idea of their gender-determined
role. According to Gilligan, women can gain personal independence
and autonomy only after they reject the idea that their proper
role is to subjugate their interests to those of their husbands,
children, or other people they are caring for. A typical woman
in our culture probably has no trouble accepting the idea that
helping others is important. The harder task is accepting the
idea that she should apply the principle of care to her own
life as much as she applies it to others. Kohlberg's stages
reflect no such psychological struggle for men.
WHAT
ARE THE IMPLICATIONS OF THIS RESEARCH?
[back
to top]
Care,
justice and traditional philosophical ethics
[back
to top]
It should be apparent by
now that both the ethics of justice and the ethics of care are
legitimate intellectual outlook. We might even say that these
two approaches parallel to some degree the teleological and
deontological traditions in philosophical ethics.
Those using a teleological
approach to ethics argue that whether actions are right or wrong
depends on how much actual good or harm results. The
most familiar, not to mention influential teleological system
is that of Utilitarianism, the school of thought that approves
actions to the extent that they produce "the greatest good of
the greatest number." Gilligan's ethic of "care" endorses something
similar. Both claim that ethics is a matter of evaluating real-life
consequences, whether positive or negative, not following a
program that follows from some abstract principle.
Those taking a deontological
approach, on the other hand, say that actions themselves are
intrinsically right or wrong. Their merit does not depend
on their consequences. That would allow for the unacceptable
position that "the ends justify the means." Deontological thinkers
determine the moral character of an action by measuring it against
abstract moral principles. Kohlberg's ethic of justice sounds
very much like this.
So when Gilligan questioned
Kohlberg's assumption that his "ethic of justice" was the most
advanced ethic, she joined a time-honored debate among philosophers
about the best way to evaluate right and wrong.
Care
and justice: the philosophical significance
[back
to top]
Here we have two distinctly
different ethical styles that, more often than not, can apparently
be predicted by one's gender. What is the philosophical significance
of such an observation?
First, the existence of
two separate but equal ethical perspectives suggests that each
has its strengths and weaknesses, but each alone is ultimately
incomplete. A full ethical analysis, then, should use both
approaches.
Second, if we need to combine
both perspectives, somehow moral justification becomes a much
more complicated matter. A justice orientation might say that
as long as a particular action matches universal ethical principles,
it is morally acceptable. But adding the care orientation's
requirement that the deed must respond to a particular set of
circumstances and reduce trouble in the lives of others makes
an action's morality harder to guarantee.
Moral justification, then,
becomes a matter of balancing the theoretical against the concrete
and the universal against the particular. We must also carefully
consider the harm many different people could suffer or be saved
from by our actions. We must scrutinize our responsibilites
to ourselves as well as to others. And we must figure out how
to balance competing interests and responsibilities. These are
only a few of the moral knots we must simultaneously untie.
Third, we must envision
a new accommodation of reason to emotion. Gilligan's ethic of
"care" involves an emotional process. Most philosophers, on
the other hand, have put their faith in reason. Yet thinkers
as unlike as the ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle and the
early modern British thinker David Hume both stress the role
of emotions in the morally good person. Aristotle says that
moral virtue involves both actions and emotions. Being a virtuous
individual, he claims in the Nicomachean Ethics, depends
not on doing the right things, but performing the actions in
a certain way: "feeling at the right time, about the right things,
in relation to the right people; and for the right reason."
Hume sees ethics as mainly a matter of "sympathy" or "fellow
feeling." Both philosophers think that ethics involve feeling
and personal character as well as rational analysis. Thus it
may certainly be true that the role of emotion in Western ethics
has been greatly underestimated or simply ignored.
Finally, if the way we perceive,
interpret, and resolve ethical problems is affected by gender,
how do we know when we have an objective picture of reality?
Modern Western thinking has counted on the possibility of objectivity.
We weigh things, measure them, use incredibly sophisticated
instruments, observe, test, experiment, and quantify. In the
end, we believe we can get a precise and objective picture of
what we are looking at. But if gender affects our perception
of reality so profoundly, how can we be sure our results are
correct?
Immanuel Kant may be right
when he claims that we can know things only "as they appear,"
never "as they really are in themselves." Kant came to the conclusion
that the mind by its very nature determines what we experience
as reality. Our minds do not just passively receive a picture
of reality more or less accurately. Kant claims that the mind
takes the raw "stuff" of reality and manufactures a representation
of the reality that conforms to the nature of the mind. We end
up with a "thing as it appears"; the "thing in itself" is always
beyond our grasp. If gender also plays its part in shaping the
appearance of an ethical issue, does this doom us even more
certainly to subjectivity.
To make matters more complicated,
Gilligan proposes another theory that raises still more problems
connected with the issue of appearance versus reality. In essence,
she suggests that the different thought processes and values
of mature men and women result from the self-concept we form
when we are very young. We end up with one of two different
self-concepts, she says, one individual, autonomous, and essentially
separate from others, the other intimately connected to other
people. Gilligan claims that most men develop the former self,
most women, the latter.
In essence, Gilligan argues
that our ethical outlook stems largely from the psychological
makeup associated with our gender. Take the "masculine" view
of the self. Men are separate, autonomous individuals, out in
the world doing what they want. Inevitably they come into conflict
with each other. Many men may want the same thing, but only
one of them can have it, or they find their individual interests
in total opposition. How do they protect their "separateness"
and yet live in the same society? The most logical way is to
adopt an ethic of fairness, equality, and impartiality, the
rules of which specify the rights of all and apply the same
way to all. Thus Kohlberg's ethic of "justice" is appropriate
in a society of "separate" masculine selves.
On the other hand, if we
see ourselves are essentially connected to other people, we
will develop a different ethic. In a reality based on relationships,
the chief threat is a lack of care for other people. Because
we must inevitably accept different responsibilities to different
people, the ethical dilemmas that people with this orientation
face stem mainly from the fact that they have competing or conflicting
responsibilities. Which responsibility gets priority? One must
look at the specifics of each situation very carefully and then
decide who gets special treatment. Thus, a view of the self
as "connected" implies the primacy of Gilligan's ethic of care.
This general theme has also
been developed by feminist philosophers who argue that traditional
moral theories are grounded in the male experience and consequently
have serious limitations. The contemporary philosopher Virginia
Held, for example, claims that moral theory generally proceeds
from the activities of the marketplace, a traditionally male
forum of activity. She writes,
The relation between
buyer and seller has often been taken as the model of all
human interactions. Most of the social contract tradition
has seen this relation of contractual exchange as fundamental
to law and political authority as well as to economic activity.
And some contemporary moral philosophers see the contractual
relation as the relation on which even morality itself should
be based. The marketplace, as a model for relationships, has
become so firmly entrenched in our normative theories that
it is rarely questioned as a proper foundation for recommendations
extending beyond the marketplace. Consequently, much moral
thinking is built on the concept of rational economic man.
Relationships between human beings are seen as arising, and
as justified, when they serve the interests of individual
rational contractors.
As a result, competition and
domination in the hope of advancing one's interest are seen as
natural and appropriate activities.
Held suggests, however,
that if we base our thinking in a paradigm drawn from the more
characteristically female experience of the nurturing relationship
between a caretaker and a child, we arrive at a very different
moral theory. Seen in this light, she observes,
the competition and
desire for domination thought of as acceptable for rational
economic man might appear as a very particular and limited
human connection, suitable perhaps, if at all, only for a
restricted marketplace. Such a relation of conflict and competition
can be seen to be unacceptable for establishing the social
trust on which public institutions must rest, or for upholding
the bonds on which caring, regard, friendship, or love must
be based. . . . We might then take it as one of our starting
assumptions that creating good relations of care and concern
and trust between ourselves and our children, and creating
social arrangements in which children will be valued and well
cared for, are more important than maximizing individual utilities.
And the moral theories that might be compatible with such
assumptions might be very different from those with which
we are familiar.
Minimally, Held argues, we
should reject the idea that a single moral theory is sufficient,
opting instead for a "division of moral labor" which employs different
ethical approaches for different domains of experience. "Satisfactory
intermediate principles for areas such as those of international
affairs, or family relations," she writes, "cannot be derived
from simple universal principles, but must be arrived at in conjunction
with experience within the domains in question."
If Gilligan and Held are
right, a psychological fact--our self-concept--and a gender
experience that we take as paradigmatic determine our perception
of reality and the way we prefer to handle ethics. This would
undercut the idea that philosophy and reason can ever be a "pure"
and objective instrument for studying reality and analyzing
human experience. If we must call even the theoretical possibility
of objective reason into question, that presents us with a philosophical
problem as stunning as it is fundamental.
A
FINAL NOTE [back
to top]
All this talk about possible
differences in thinking that might be related to gender may
be interesting, but you may be wondering if the issue is really
all that important. Does it have anything to do with real life,
you may ask, and above all does all this questioning do anybody
any good?
Look at it this way. Sooner
or later you will experience the difficulties and frustrations
that come from working with someone who in effect speaks a different
"conceptual language" than you do. It may be someone of a different
gender, or it may be someone of the same gender as you but with
a way of thinking--epistemologically or ethically--opposite
to your own. By having studied this topic, however, you should
understand such a situation better than you otherwise might
have. And the more accurately you understand a problem, the
better position you are in to handle it. Also, these differences
are not carved in stone. All that the research shows is that
we seem to have proclivities to think in certain ways that may
be related to our gender. It does not say that we cannot expand
the way we think. Thus we can work at seeing things the way
the other gender does, viewing the world and problems as they
do, trying to speak their "conceptual language." Obviously,
if we can do that, we will transcend some of the limitations
of our preferred way of thinking, and we will find it much easier
to understand, work with, and relate to wide range of people
different than ourselves. And these are not small benefits.
SUGGESTED
READINGS [back
to top]
For Lawrence Kohlberg's
work see:
The Philosophy of Moral Development: Moral Stages and the Idea
of Justice: Essays on Moral Development, 1, (San Francisco:
Harper and Row, 1981), and The Psychology of Moral Development:
Essays on Moral Development, 2 (San Francisco: Harper and
Row, 1984).
Gilligan's thesis is set out in her In a Different Voice:
Psychological Theory and Women's Development (Cambridge,
MA: Harvard University Press, 1982); it is developed and explored
by Gilligan and other writers in: Mapping the Moral Domain,
edited by Carol Gilligan, Janie Victoria Ward, Jill McLean Taylor,
with Betty Bardige (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press,
1988)
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