Philosophy

Volume 2, February 2002 www.psljournal.com/archives/papers/comsur_williamsjones.cfm Commercial Surrogacy and the Redefinition of Motherhood Bryn Williams-Jones* * Graduate Research Associate and Ph.D. Candidate, Centre for Applied Ethics, University of British Columbia 1. Introduction Since the 1970s, there has been rapid and wide ranging development in the field of new reproductive technologies (NRT). With donor insemination (DI) and in vitro fertilization (IVF), previously infertile couples have been given new hope and the chance to have children. A more recent addition to these new methods of reproduction has been the combination of DI and IVF with surrogate mother arrangements.[1] This technique has subtly changed the realm of reproduction, for with the addition of a third party (the surrogate) to the reproductive environment, the nature of motherhood, fatherhood, and the allocation of parental rights and duties has come into question. Before the advent of NRTs, there were essentially two forms of motherhood recognized in Western society, the biological and the social mother. Except for adoption, fostering, or step parenting, the biological mother was assumed to also be the social mother. This is not surprising, as motherhood has never been ambiguous; one might not know who one's father was, but one's mother's identity was rarely in question. However, before women were granted legal personhood (1929 in Canada), a child's legal guardian or parent was the father (based on property rights arguments); historically, illegitimate children were not considered to have a legal parent, either mother or father. The use of IVF and DI in conjunction with surrogacy arrangements, raise a number of important social, legal, and ethical issues. Much of the discussion of commercial surrogacy turns around key legal cases, such as Baby M[2] or Johnson v. Calvert[3], or explores feminist arguments for or against the practice of surrogacy. In this paper, however, I propose to draw upon legal, anthropological, and feminist literature to see how commercial surrogacy has changed the way we construct motherhood, and to better address the ethical issues at the core of the debate. For example, is the surrogate simply a 'womb for rent' who has no interests in the child she carries, or does the fact that she carries and gives birth to the child make her a mother with legitimate parental rights? Is there a moral difference between a genetic and a gestational surrogate? Does commercial (as opposed to altruistic) surrogacy essentialise a woman to her reproductive capacity and lead to commodification and exploitation? In other Page 1 of 13The Journal of Philosophy, Science & Law Commercial Surrogacy and the Redefinition ... 08/04/2003http://www.psljournal.com/archives/papers/comsur_williamsjones2.cfm words, has commercial surrogacy changed the traditional Western understanding of motherhood and does it do an injustice to the surrogate, the contracting mother, and/or women in general? I will argue that the fragmentation of the legal concept of 'mother' has created a range of social and ethical problems that need to be addressed; nevertheless, the basic societal definition of 'motherhood' remains substantially unchanged. 2. Kinship, Nature, and Procreation To gain a clear understanding of how motherhood has been traditionally defined in the West, it is first necessary to explore conceptions of kinship. In the Western context, we tend to divide kin into either blood or marriage relations, though with the changing social dynamic of modern families, individuals who are related neither through biology nor marriage may come to be seen as part of the family, e.g., children who are adopted or conceived through donor insemination, gay and lesbian families, etc.[4] In general, current Western conceptions of the family still see biological relatedness as primary and prior to the social construction of relations. These 'natural' facts are often taken for granted in discussions of kinship and family, and people may give special consideration (or have obligations) to blood relatives, because "blood is thicker than water."[5] The importance placed on biological connection is further exemplified by traditional understandings of procreation and the resulting cultural definitions of 'mother' and 'father'. The doctrine of "one child, one genitor" has been a part of Western tradition for more than two thousand years. While there are many historical antecedents to the modern view of conception (Aristotelian and ancient Greek atomistic views), it has only been in the last hundred years or so that the mechanisms of conception and fertilization have been fully explained by the biological sciences. The procreative act and the general connection between mother, father, and child was likely well understood, but until relatively recently the uniqueness of biological paternity (as opposed to the obviousness of maternity) has been a cultural construct based on little scientific evidence.[6] 2.1 The Impact of New Reproductive Technologies With their rootedness in social relations of natural fact, traditional notions of kinship made the kin relations essentially non-negotiable, and the givenness of the relation was symbolized by the blood tie. One could not choose one's parents or one's relatives, and this led to one having certain unavoidable kin obligations. However, with an increased emphasis on autonomy and freedom of choice, we may encounter or participate in new and unconventional kin relations.[7] Traditional notions of parenthood that presumed a relationship between family members are being challenged by a more biological view that emphasizes genetic relatedness and questions the quality of social relations. With technologies such as IVF and DI, children may be born from the product of donor sperm or ova, in which case they may be genetically related to only one (or possibly neither) of their social parents.[8] The transmission of the genetic substances is seen to confer identity on the child, thus on becoming self-conscious, the child may assert a right to know about his or her genetic identity and biological parents. This situation raises the question of what it means to be a parent and who can be said to fit this role. In the West, the child is seen as an independent and autonomously produced individual, the Page 2 of 13The Journal of Philosophy, Science & Law Commercial Surrogacy and the Redefinition ... 08/04/2003http://www.psljournal.com/archives/papers/comsur_williamsjones2.cfm result of biological processes. It depends for its initial existence on its parents, but exists as a separate being from birth onwards; Canadian law makes explicit the difference between a fetus and a child. But parents only come into being through the existence of their children. People are not presumed to be parents, either socially or legally, without the known existence of children. Parenthood is always constructed while childhood is a given. The parent constructs the child biologically, while the child constructs the parent socially. The mother (and her identity) is constituted through her relationship to her child. The father is constituted through his relation to the mother and participation in the mother-child relationship; marriage assesses putative parenthood to the father.[9] The legal system is currently faced with the challenge of defining 'motherhood' and the various relations contingent in conception and pregnancy. There can now be multiple actors in the reproductive process who may have or desire recognized social roles, regardless of their biological ones. For example, under British law, the women who carries the child is considered the mother, whether or not the child is genetically linked to her. Furthermore, the husband of the woman who gestates the child is considered the child's father, regardless of genetic link to the child.[10] The intention to treat a person as mother is a social construction which may contrast with the natural facts. "In the past, the natural facts that define a mother always seemed more comprehensive than those defining her partner. She both donated genetic material and brought the child to term, elements combined in the former cultural assumption that childbirth was a supreme natural fact of life."[11] The gestation period has now become culturally ambiguous. 3. Surrogate Mothers Assisted reproduction has contributed to the fragmentation of motherhood. Historically, the social and biological aspects of motherhood resided in one person. Maternity is now divisible into genetic, gestational, and social motherhood, and these roles can be spread amongst a number of women. This division is most apparent in the case of surrogate mothers, where at least three (and possibly as many as five) women can attempt to claim parental rights over a child. "If Mrs. A is infertile and Mrs. B agrees to provide ova to be fertilized in vitro with semen from Mr. A, and embryos are transferred to Mrs. C, who agrees to carry the baby to term and hand it over to Mrs. A and her husband after birth, the situation becomes extremely complex and the basic tenets of family law uncertain."[12] This situation creates the potential for enormous conflict over who should be considered the 'mother' and have the concomitant parental rights and responsibilities for the child. For example, in the Baby M case, there was a conflict between two conceptions of 'motherhood', the legal (commissioning mother) and the biological (surrogate mother). Surrogacy breaks down and devolves the role of mother, separating the social and nurturing part of motherhood from the genetic contribution and the birthing process. 3.1 Motivations and Methods If surrogacy fragments our understanding of motherhood and creates the potential for social and legal conflict, what then motivates women to become surrogate mothers? In a study of established surrogacy programs in the U.S., 28 surrogates from six different programs were interviewed. A striking revelation was the almost unanimous feelings expressed about the Page 3 of 13The Journal of Philosophy, Science & Law Commercial Surrogacy and the Redefinition ... 08/04/2003http://www.psljournal.com/archives/papers/comsur_williamsjones2.cfm influence of remuneration in decisions to become surrogate mothers. Most surrogates interviewed stated categorically that they were not doing it for the money; altruism was the primary motivation and remuneration was simply compensation for family work – surrogates were paid $10,000 to $15,000, an amount held artificially low to screen out women motivated solely by the lure of financial gain. Surrogates did not spend the money on themselves alone, but usually on their other children, home improvement, etc., and surrogacy was viewed as a part-time job that would allow a women to stay home with her children.[13] The surrogates interviewed also felt that the remuneration they received was insufficient compensation for nine months of pregnancy. This view may in part be an example of the cultural belief that children are priceless – the child produced is conceived of as a gift, a view that reinforces the idea that having a child for someone is beyond monetary compensation. Ragoné argues that in the U.S., remuneration is devalued by surrogates as a means of maintaining an acceptable balance between reproduction and work. If it is work, it should be compensated, but because it is also reproduction, it must be done out of 'love' rather than for 'money'. Thus, surrogates attempted to balance public and private views of 'motherhood' – many of the women interviewed became surrogates to "transcend the limitations of their domestic roles as wives, mothers, and homemakers while concomitantly attesting to the importance of those roles and to the satisfaction they derived from them."[14] Remuneration is the most problematic aspect of surrogacy because it challenges the cultural ideals of women and mothers as selfless nurturers; admitting that remuneration was adequate would eliminate the ability of the women to classify their work as an altruistic "gift of life" to an infertile couple. At a practical level, surrogates have to be able to strongly disassociate themselves from the children they bear. In a study by Snowdon, she notes that some women found it harder giving away children that were genetically linked to themselves: "Giving away a child that is half mine–I brainwashed myself so much that I never thought about it, but at the end of the day you are still giving away something that belongs to you, your flesh and blood."[15] Two women interviewed opted for IVF and gestational surrogacy because they felt that the baby then belonged more to the contracting couple, and it was easier for the surrogates to think of themselves simply as carriers or incubators. This attitude of distance or separation was used as a mechanism to help a woman part with the child at birth. As one woman observed, With your own children it is totally different. It is a joyous occasion where you share everything with your husband and your family. With surrogate pregnancy you almost cut out the family. You don't encourage the grandmother to be a grandma, and you don't start nest building and buying things for the baby. There is no comparison between the pregnancies, except that you are pregnant, only the physical symptoms.[16] Snowdon did not see the fragmentation of 'motherhood' as causing any difficulties with the women she interviewed. The consensus was that the social mother, the woman who raised the child, was the true mother. The surrogates interviewed placed a great deal of emphasis on nurturing as the fundamental aspect of motherhood. With 'motherhood' now defined as separable into the roles of nurturer (social) mother and biological mother, women are given a choice about motherhood. Either role can be accepted or refused, thus in deciding not to be the social nurturing mother, the value of the biological (surrogate's) contribution is minimized "while the adoptive mother's choice to nurture activates or fully brings forth motherhood."[17] Page 4 of 13The Journal of Philosophy, Science & Law Commercial Surrogacy and the Redefinition ... 08/04/2003http://www.psljournal.com/archives/papers/comsur_williamsjones2.cfm Adopted mothers attempt to resolve the lack of biological or genetic relationship with their children through what Ragoné calls "mythic conception" – the idea that the desire and intent to have a child is what makes surrogacy possible. Some adoptive mothers also experienced the pregnancy by proxy: they followed the surrogate through medical exams, birthing classes, and through the delivery of the child – the adoptive mother was "emotionally pregnant" while the surrogate was only "physically pregnant."[18] 3.2 Genetics and the Essentialization of Women Motherhood has been widely portrayed in North America as one of the core aspects of a woman's life, without which her life is considered incomplete.[19] We hear discussion about infertility treatments, techniques of in vitro fertilization, etc., where these technologies are presented as almost a panacea that can make infertile couples whole, functioning, normal. However, these procedures do not solve the problem of infertility – they are simply methods of providing childless couples with access to the fertility and childbearing abilities of others.[20] These technologies also provide contracting mothers with the opportunity to have a child that is genetically 'theirs,' particularly in the case of gestational surrogacy.[21] Some feminists argue that legalizing surrogacy would help liberate women by de-biologizing motherhood. Women could become mothers without having to go through pregnancy and birth. On the other hand, it is argued, especially by religious and conservative opponents, that surrogacy violates a natural maternal instinct and bonding thereby undermining the structure of the nuclear family. Even some former surrogates, such as Mary Beth Whitehead, invoke the language of maternal instinct and essentialized motherhood, instead of feminism, to oppose surrogacy.[22] Raymond rejects the essentialist argument of maternal bonding and maternal instinct as a tool for opposing surrogacy, as she believes these arguments have little legal weight in opposition to a father's right to the child. In the market, the surrogate is often not considered to be contributing to the pregnancy, aside from donating an egg and gestating the fetus; the real value comes from the donor sperm.[23] For example, in the Johnson v. Calvert case, the California Superior court awarded custody of the child to the commissioning couple, the Calverts, because they were the providers of the gametes which formed the embryo and produced the child. Genetic contribution was the primary criterion of parenthood; the role of the gestational mother was reduced to that of an incubator. This view ties in well with the traditional Western understanding of procreation described above, that sees the man as providing 'the seed' and women as simply incubating the child and being 'the soil' from which the seed can grow. The egg only acquires the status of the sperm, as important contributor, when it does not conflict with the rights of the man. In Johnson v. Calvert, the sperm and egg came from a married couple and were thought to be working in co-operation to arrive at a commonly desired goal. When the egg is from a woman who decides she wants to keep the resulting child, e.g., Mary Beth Whitehead, the egg is then reduced in meaning and the sperm is said to predominate in importance of contribution.[24] Genetics has often been treated as determinative in the assignation of parental rights, because it is believed that genes are what give children their individual and unique traits, Page 5 of 13The Journal of Philosophy, Science & Law Commercial Surrogacy and the Redefinition ... 08/04/2003http://www.psljournal.com/archives/papers/comsur_williamsjones2.cfm characteristics, and helps to form their identities. Gestational surrogate mothers may thus be considered not to be contributing anything physical to fetal development, aside from care and feeding. It is argued, as in Johnson v. Calvert, that the surrogate makes no contribution to the physical features, behavior, etc., of the child and therefore has no justification to argue for parental rights over the child.[25] However, this view is far from unanimous in the U.S. or internationally. For example, the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG) maintains that gestation, and not genetics, determines motherhood. In other words, the ACOG makes no distinction between the usual forms of surrogate parenting and gestational surrogate parenting. This follows the position of the Warnock Report in the U.K., which argued that egg or embryo donation is treated as an absolute separation that does not confer any parental rights to the donor. If a couple donates an embryo to a gestational surrogate, the surrogate becomes the legal recipient of the embryo, and the legal mother and parent of the child when it is born. The surrogate thus has the choice of honoring the contract and transferring parental rights to the commissioning couple, or deciding to break the contract and keep the child for herself.[26] The positions taken by the ACOG and the Warnock Committee are based on a positive valuation of the contribution that a mother makes during conception, gestation, and birth. It is argued that nine months of labor and the process of giving birth constitute a major investment of a woman's time and effort towards the child's well-being. Furthermore, recent work in prenatal psychology and physiology have demonstrated that the maternal environment can have a positive or negative impact on the developing fetus, depending on the mother's sense of well-being, whether she is prepared for and wants the child, etc. For example, referring to studies by Lester Sontag, Rae states that there is some evidence that women undergoing severe emotional stress give birth to children who are more irritable.[27] These types of studies help demonstrate that the gestational contribution of mothers is far more dynamic and relational than simply being "fetus sitters" or carriers of the child. However, by arguing for this type of maternal contribution and connection to the fetus, Raymond worries that this may further contribute to what she calls a "creeping maternal essentialism" in the debate over surrogacy. Feminists advocating for surrogacy are concerned that prohibiting this arrangement will biologize motherhood and entrench it in an understanding of female nature. Yet, according to Raymond, where the real essentialism lies is the assumption that women have a desperate need to have children and remain fertile: "maternal essentialism confines women to the ghetto of motherhood."[28] To argue that maternal instinct and bonding is paramount is to reduce motherhood to biology; instead, Raymond maintains that motherhood is primarily a relationship that exists within a social, political and historical context, thus it cannot be reduced to an unchanging basic instinct. In becoming pregnant, a women forms both a personal and social relationship with the fetus she bears. This relationship may be positive or negative, depending on the circumstances of the pregnancy, whether the mother feels forced or coerced, or is unprepared to deal with having a child at a given point in time. 4. Commercialization and Exploitation While surrogacy in general raises a host of social and ethical problems, I believe that commercial surrogacy in particular can crystallize the difficulties that many people have with Page 6 of 13The Journal of Philosophy, Science & Law Commercial Surrogacy and the Redefinition ... 08/04/2003http://www.psljournal.com/archives/papers/comsur_williamsjones2.cfm surrogacy, and help us get to the core of how surrogacy affects our understanding of motherhood. Commercialization, and its use of market rhetoric, treats surrogacy as a service arrangement between a number of individuals, leading to the creation of a product and the transfer of rights to that product. In the law in the U.S., this is represented in the form of contracts signed by the commissioning couple and the surrogate mother. In exchange for between $10,000 and $15,000, the surrogate mother (and usually her partner) agree to abstain from intercourse for a number of months, submit to regular and extensive medical exams, and agree to transfer parental rights to the couple once the child is born. 4.1 Contracts and Baby-Selling As noted above, many women adapt well to surrogacy and are able to distance themselves from the pregnancy and the fetus. To create such distance, they must be able to alienate themselves – the worker – from the child, literally and figuratively the product of labor. These women must also deal with a cultural construct of motherhood that sees it as something private, and not to be commercialized. Thus, commercial surrogates have the uneasy task of, on the one hand, feeling they are due remuneration for their services, while on the other, downplaying the role of remuneration in favor of gift giving and altruism so that they can maintain their place within the social context of motherhood.[29] They are often torn between wanting to be respected for providing a valuable service while at the same time embodying the nurturing and caring roles that are still commonly assigned to mothers. According to Rothman, this means that "the baby like any other commodity does not belong to the producer but to the purchaser."[30] However, instead of an assembly line model of production, a more accurate analogy might be the work of a commissioned specialty craftsperson who creates something which they own, but then decides to put that product up for sale. In most legal jurisdictions, the child is considered to belong to the surrogate (although this is less clear in the case of gestational surrogacy), and she must then transfer her parental rights to the child for the contract to be completed; but the surrogate retains the option of breaking the contract and keeping the child. Nonetheless, there is still the sense that a product, the child, is being produced for the specific purpose of being transferred and sold to the commissioning couple. Market rhetoric collapses the natural properties of the product into culturally defined qualities, making them one with the object being presented for social consumption; the market analogy tends to also collapse all other concepts or metaphors into market rhetoric, e.g., "products of conception" or the "fertility industry". The focus is not on motherhood or fatherhood, but on the creation of children. Issues of money, cost of treatment and services, and so forth are always present in the background in discussions of reproductive technologies. The commodification of reproduction is clearly seen in the development of surrogate motherhood – services are bought and body parts rented as if the woman in which these parts reside did not exist. This sense that women are being treated simply as means of producing babies, and not as individuals, is highlighted by the nature of many of the commercial surrogacy arrangements. To begin with, much of the commercial surrogacy in the U.S. is processed through surrogacy centers or "baby brokers". Classified adds appear in the newspaper and on the Internet[31] seeking surrogate mothers, and offering $10,000 to $15,000 plus expenses; the brokers, however, charge contracting couples between $30,000 and $45,000 per child. Surrogacy agreements often have clauses in the contracts stipulating that the surrogate must undergo Page 7 of 13The Journal of Philosophy, Science & Law Commercial Surrogacy and the Redefinition ... 08/04/2003http://www.psljournal.com/archives/papers/comsur_williamsjones2.cfm frequent medical examinations, tests, and amniocentesis, must follow detailed nutritional guidance, and limit consumption of certain products, such as cigarettes or alcohol which may endanger the fetus. Some agreements even include a statement that the surrogate will agree to abort the fetus on demand if or when the commissioning couple decides to terminate the surrogate's service. Contracts provide only limited compensation up front, with the bulk of the fee being provided not at the birth of the child, but after the transfer of parental rights from the surrogate to the commissioning couple. As Kimbrell notes, "no product, no payment."[32] When this arrangement is treated purely as a contract, it cannot help but be the case that the surrogate is being compensated for both her services and the delivery of a product, namely the baby. The baby is separated from the birth mother in a commercial transaction, which treats the baby as little more than a commodity. What then, is the difference between this form of baby selling and illegal forms of baby selling through adoption on the black market? Proponents of commercial surrogacy would likely argue that the woman is being paid for her services only, and the remuneration is simply due compensation for time and effort provided during pregnancy.[33] This argument is unconvincing, especially when it is commonly the case that the surrogate only receives full payment for her services after signing over parental rights to the child. There can be little doubt that what is being purchased is not the surrogate's services to help a couple produce a child; instead the child itself is the product purchased. 4.2 Exploitation and Third World Mothers One of the primary concerns about commercial surrogacy is the very real potential for exploitation and coercion. Surrogacy does not, however, have to be commercial to be coercive. In situations where a couple is infertile, there may be intense family pressure upon a female sibling to become a surrogate to provide a child for the couple. Moreover, this pressure may not be overt, but might manifest itself through feelings of guilt or through strong family opinion, so that the potential surrogate sees no other means of remedying the situation for the infertile couple. Whether or not surrogacy is commercialized, when set within the context of women's inequality, it inevitably supports and reinforces the view that bearing and raising children is what being a woman is all about.[34] When large sums of money are involved, there is a greater likelihood that unscrupulous individuals will seek to exploit others in order to make a profit. For example, in the U.S., there have been at least 55 lawsuits and complaints filed against brokers because of abuse and intimidation. To ensure the effective transfer of the produced child to the commissioning couple, surrogates must sign contracts that, as some have argued, amount to little more than commercial servitude.[35] When sperm, eggs, embryos, and even women's reproductive processes are seen as marketable, it raises concern for many that a 'breeder class' of women will develop, women whose only means of making a living is by renting their bodies and selling their body parts. This is especially true where there exists a power and financial differential between those procuring and those providing services. Citing a 1988 study by the former U.S. Office of Technology Assessment, Kimbrell asserts that most commissioning couples tend to be well-off, well educated, and with incomes in excess of $50,000.[36] By contrast, "most surrogate mothers earn just above the poverty line, and less than 4 percent of surrogate mothers are reported to have received graduate school education. Page 8 of 13The Journal of Philosophy, Science & Law Commercial Surrogacy and the Redefinition ... 08/04/2003http://www.psljournal.com/archives/papers/comsur_williamsjones2.cfm Over 40 percent of surrogates are unemployed, receiving financial assistance, or both."[37] When this disparity in income, education, and social class is combined with the restrictive nature of commercial surrogacy agreements, it becomes less clear that poor women can have a choice other than to rent their one main skill/resource, i.e., their reproductive capabilities. However, as the work of Ragoné and Snowdon demonstrate, many surrogates in North America choose surrogacy as a means of increasing family income, paying down the mortgage, purchasing material goods, etc.[38] It is women in developing or underdeveloped countries who are most vulnerable to exploitation, although women in developed countries are not necessarily free of this concern. Poor women may make ideal surrogate mothers as due to their financial need, they are more likely to alienate themselves from the children they produce, and being poor will not seek or be able to challenge surrogacy contracts in court. With better embryo transfer techniques, commissioning couples would not have to worry about the surrogate contributing genetic material to their child. Instead, the surrogate would be simply a gestational surrogate and little more than a 'fetus-sitter' for the couple's future child. Further, the price paid to surrogates could be reduced even further, perhaps to one tenth of the present fees, as poor women are often simply trying to survive and support their own families, and thus may simply "take what they can get." This situation puts into stark contrast the difference between surrogacy in the developed and underdeveloped world. In developed countries, surrogacy may be a choice for women to improve their financial situation and perform an altruistic act; in underdeveloped countries, surrogacy may be a form of slavery, reminiscent of the black nannies who raised white children in the American South during the slavery era, or in Apartheid South Africa. 5. Motherhood Redefined? New reproductive technologies, and surrogacy in particular, challenge our understanding of 'motherhood' and force us to question what it means in our society. Has the very definition of 'motherhood' changed, or is it simply that its application in the modern context of surrogacy arrangements has changed? As was argued in the first section of this paper, the advent of new reproductive technologies has led to a fragmentation of the components that are normally assigned with the role of 'mother', and who is assigned to a particular category. Under the traditional view, the 'mother' was normally the woman who gave birth to the child and was biologically related. With surrogate 'motherhood', the biological connectedness to the child is brought into question. How much relationship is entailed by gestation, nursing, and motherchild bonding as compared to simply donating an egg? This is the crux of the argument over whether non-genetic gestational surrogates are 'mothers'. The courts in the U.S., e.g., in Johnson v. Calvert, have tended to rule against these women, treating their gestational contribution as insufficient.[39] However, by contrast, the ACOG and the Warnock Committee maintained that the woman who gestates and gives birth to the child is the legal mother – her contribution of time, effort, and the intimate relational nature of the maternal environment are sufficient for her to be considered the mother.[40] In other words, they argue that the other primary element of 'motherhood', i.e., 'love', must be considered of equal weight as 'blood' or genetic contribution when assigning parental rights. The relational aspect of motherhood is as important as the biological connection between mother and child.[41] Page 9 of 13The Journal of Philosophy, Science & Law Commercial Surrogacy and the Redefinition ... 08/04/2003http://www.psljournal.com/archives/papers/comsur_williamsjones2.cfm This focus would allow surrogate mothers, be they genetic or gestational, to claim parental rights as mothers of the children they bear. In the case of the gestational mother, this claim may create a conflict with the biological mother who donated her egg, but it is a conflict over who has parental rights, and not so much a conflict over who is 'mother.' Gestational surrogacy creates the new situation in which a child has not one, but two biological mothers – one genetic and the other gestational. While having multiple biological mothers is new, it has long been accepted that a child could have multiple social mothers, i.e., adopted mothers, stepmothers, or foster mothers. If the motherhood can be divided into social and biological components without the concept of 'motherhood' being changed, why then cannot the biological roles be subdivided as well? I therefore agree with Schneider that the definition of 'mother' has not changed, despite new understandings of what constitutes 'blood' relations. The idea that motherhood includes social and biological aspects, 'blood' and 'love', is still present. It is simply the case that these aspects of motherhood have fragmented and can be allocated to multiple women. This fragmentation may create social difficulties in determining who is the legal 'mother', but I think our basic definition of 'motherhood' remains unchanged. What then are the affects of commercial surrogate arrangements? Does commercial surrogacy threaten motherhood? As Ragoné's study shows, commercial surrogacy can challenge our ideal of mothers as being selfless nurturers, free from the pressures of the market place. Remuneration seems to reduce surrogates to the level of reproductive laborers, but surrogates also strive to downplay this role and attempt to balance it with notions of altruism and gift giving. In a society that does not really condone the commercialization of the private family domain, surrogates are caught in an awkward position – they want to be mothers and at the same time be valued for their reproductive work. Nevertheless, according to Rothman, motherhood resists commodification. This is particularly evident in the difficulty that many women go through in deciding to have an abortion. They cannot maintain the medical language, but instead often use the language of infanticide, grief, and responsibility. With respect to surrogacy, not all women are able to alienate themselves from their pregnancies. Some women, such as Mary Beth Whitehead, change their minds when they realize that they cannot go through with the process of giving up their child to another couple. They cannot put price tags on their children, and cannot commodify their motherhood.[42] It is therefore unclear that surrogacy in particular devalues motherhood, even though it changes the way mothers view themselves and are viewed by others. Commercialization may well lead to the exploitation of women in some situations (particularly in developing or underdeveloped countries) and be justifiably prohibited for this reason. Moreover, it may further contribute to the reduction of women and motherhood to a purely biological understanding, such as seems to be evidenced by the California court's ruling in Johnson v. Calvert. However, as with surrogacy in general, I do not believe that commercialization changes our understanding or definition of 'mother'. Mothers will still be seen as embodying nurturing and 'love' relations, even if this role as social mother is separated from the biological role. As Rothman observes, women can still reject the commercialization of their motherhood. Some women may be forced by oppressive or coercive circumstances to essentialise themselves as being simply reproductive vessels for the development of another's child, and thus feel alienated from their motherhood. But in the act of gestating and bearing a child, the woman reinstates herself as a mother by participating in one aspect of motherhood – whether or not she is defined as a 'mother' by others, she is still a mother. Page 10 of 13The Journal of Philosophy, Science & Law Commercial Surrogacy and the Redefiniti... 08/04/2003http://www.psljournal.com/archives/papers/comsur_williamsjones2.cfm Acknowledgements The author would like to thank Patricia Lee, Chris MacDonald, and Susan Cox for their helpful comments on various versions of this paper; the anonymous reviewers for this journal; and Michael Burgess for his generous and enthusiastic support and supervision. Many of the ideas in this paper have benefited from ongoing critique and discussion with the Genetics and Ethics Research Group at the Centre for Applied Ethics, University of British Columbia. This work was supported by the Canadian Health Services Research Foundation, the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada, and the Centre for Applied Ethics at the University of British Columbia. List of References Barnes, J.A. 1973. Genetrix: Genitor : : Nature: Culture?, in The Character of Kinship, J. Goody & M. Fortes (eds.), Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, p. 61-73. In the Matter of Baby M, 109 N.J. 196, 537 A. 2d (1987) Johnson v. Calvert, 851 P. 2d 776 (Cal. 1993). Kimbrell, A. 1993. The Human Body Shop: The Engineering and Marketing of Life, New York: Harper San Francisco. Miller, J. 1996. Out Family Values, in Voices: Essays on Canadian Families, M. Lynn (ed.), Toronto: Nelson Canada, p. 131-160. Pretorius, D. 1994. Surrogate Motherhood: A Worldwide View of the Issues, Springfield, IL: Charles C. Thomas. Rae, S.B. 1994. The Ethics of Commercial Surrogate Motherhood: Brave New Families? Westport, CT: Praeger. Ragoné, H. 1996. Chasing the Blood Tie: Surrogate Mothers, Adoptive Mothers and Fathers, in American Ethnologist, Vol. 23(2), p. 352-365. Raymond, J.G. 1993. Women as Wombs: Reproductive Technologies and the Battle Over Women's Freedom, New York: Harper San Francisco. Reuters, Mon. March 30, 1998, Prenatal Stress Negatively Effects Fetus. Rothman, B.K. 1988. Reproductive Technology and the Commodification of Life, in Embryos, Ethics, and Women's Rights: Exploring the New Reproductive Technologies, E. Hoffman Baruch, A.F. D'Adamo, Jr., J. Seager (eds.), London: Harrington Park Press, p. 95-100. Schneider, D.M. 1972. What is Kinship All About?, in Kinship Studies in the Morgan Centennial Year, P. Reining (ed.), Washington: The Anthropological Society of Washington, p. 32-63 1992. Comments on Virgin births and Sterile Debates, by C. Shore, in Current Page 11 of 13The Journal of Philosophy, Science & Law Commercial Surrogacy and the Redefiniti... 08/04/2003http://www.psljournal.com/archives/papers/comsur_williamsjones2.cfm Anthropology, Vol. 33(3), p. 295-313 Snowdon, C. 1994. What Makes a Mother? Interviews With Women Involved in Egg Donation and Surrogacy, in Birth, Vol. 21(2), p. 71-84. Strathern, M. 1992. Reproducing the Future: Essays on Anthropology, Kinship and the New Reproductive Technologies, Manchester, UK: Manchester University Press. Notes [1] It should be noted that 'surrogate' is a problematic term, in part due to its origins in primate research where terry cloth dolls were used as surrogate mothers for young monkeys. The inanimate nature of the surrogate in this case has meant that applying the term to women may be seen as objectifying women and reducing them to their reproductive capacities. However, this term is also the one commonly used in current debates in the law and popular press, and thus for purposes of clarity I will use it throughout this paper. For a discussion of origin of the term 'surrogacy' and its social and political implications, see for example: Rita Arditti, Renate Duelli Klein, & Shelley Minden, eds., Test-tube Women: What Future for Motherhood? (London: Pandora Press, 1984); Michelle Stanworth, ed., Reproductive Technologies: Gender, Motherhood, and Medicine, (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1987); Barbara Katz Rothman, The Tentative Pregnancy: Prenatal Diagnosis and the Future of Motherhood, (New York: Viking, 1986). [2] 109 N.J. 196, 537 A. 2d, 1987. [3] 851 P. 2d 776 Cal. 1993. [4] J. Miller, Out Family Values, in Voices: Essays on Canadian Families, M. Lynn (ed.), Toronto: Nelson Canada, 1996, p. 131-160. [5] M. Strathern, Reproducing the Future: Essays on Anthropology, Kinship and the New Reproductive Technologies, Manchester, UK: Manchester University Press, 1992. [6] J.A. Barnes, Genetrix: Genitor : : Nature: Culture?, in The Character of Kinship, J. Goody & M. Fortes (eds.), Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, p. 61-73, 1973. [7] Strathern, 1992. [8] Advances in reproductive cloning may further complicate this picture. A recent news story about children born through a technique that involved inserting cytoplasm, including mitochondria, from a young woman's egg into the egg of an older woman, which was then inseminated, raises the issue of how much genetic contribution is linked with mother hood, i.e., is the woman who contributed cytoplasm and mitochondrial DNA also the mother? [9] Strathern, 1992. [10] D. Pretorius, Surrogate Motherhood: A Worldwide View of the Issues, Springfield, IL: Charles C. Thomas, 1994. [11] Strathern, page 27, 1992. [12] Pretorius, page 17, 1994. [13] H. Ragoné, Chasing the Blood Tie: Surrogate Mothers, Adoptive Mothers and Fathers, in American Ethnologist, Vol. 23(2), p. 352-365, 1996. [14] Ragoné, page 357, 1996. [15] C. Snowdon, What Makes a Mother? Interviews With Women Involved in Egg Donation and Surrogacy, in Birth, Vol. 21(2), p. 82, 1994. [16] Snowdon, page 83, 1994. [17] Ragoné, page 361, 1996. [18] Ragoné, 1996. Page 12 of 13The Journal of Philosophy, Science & Law Commercial Surrogacy and the Redefiniti... 08/04/2003http://www.psljournal.com/archives/papers/comsur_williamsjones2.cfm [19] While fertility problems are also an important issue for men, there appears to be a much stronger social pressure on women to be fertile and have children (i.e., the "ticking biological clock"), than is faced by men. [20] Strathern, 1992. [21] Gestational surrogacy is much less common than genetic surrogacy, likely because the egg transfer required for gestational surrogacy is extremely expensive, thereby making DI and genetic surrogacy more appealing financially (Snowdon, 1994). [22] Raymond, 1993. [23] Raymond, 1993. [24] Raymond, 1993. [25] S.B. Rae, The Ethics of Commercial Surrogate Motherhood: Brave New Families? Westport, CT: Praeger, 1994. [26] Rae, 1994. [27] Cited in Rae, 1994. [28] Raymond, page 38, 1993. [29] Ragoné, 1996. [30] Rothman, page 99, 1988. [31] See for example, Surrogate Mothers Online (http://www.surromomsonline.com/), Surrogate Mothers Inc. (http://www.surrogatemothers.com/), or Woman to Woman Fertility Center (http://www.ihr.com/woman/). [32] A. Kimbrell, The Human Body Shop: The Engineering and Marketing of Life, New York: Harper San Francisco, page 101, 1993. [33] Rae, 1994. [34] Rothman, 1988. [35] Kimbrell, 1993. [36] Kimbrell, 1993. [37] Kimbrell, page 108, 1993. [38] Ragoné 1996; Snowdon 1994. [39] Pretorius, 1994. [40] Rae, 1994. [41] Schneider, 1992. [42] Rothman, 1988. Page 13 of 13The Journal of Philosophy, Science & Law Commercial Surrogacy and the Redefiniti... 08/04/2003http://www.psljournal.com/archives/papers/comsur_williamsjones2.cfm


Knowledge, Belief, and the A Priori

Philosophy

Knowledge and Belief, Papers of the 26th International Wittgenstein Symposium, vol. XI, Winfried Loffler and Paul Weingartner (eds.), Austrian Ludwig Wittgenstein Society, ISSN 1022-3398, Kirchberg am Wechsel, 2003, pp. 369-370. Knowledge, Belief, and the A Priori Christian Helmut Wenzel, Taiwan 1. The notion of the a priori underwent several changes since the time it came into existence in the Middle Ages. Originally it had been used to mark a certain form of argument, an argument that proceeds from what is prior to what is later, from cause to effect: demonstratio procedens ex causis ad effectum = demonstratio a priori. But this changed with Kant, for whom it meant not a form of argument but rather some special kind of knowledge (or elements thereof), namely knowledge that (a) is independent of particular experiences and (b) that makes experience in general (Erfahrung überhaupt) possible. Tied up with consciousness and the transcendental unity of apperception, Kant's understanding of the a priori was in the spirit of his transcendental philosophy. But this understanding changed again with the rise of analytic philosophy, in which we still find the first characteristic but not the second anymore. The idea of Erfahrung überhaupt was given up, partly because one naturally wondered what exactly this notion of experience in general, or experience universally conceived, should be. Where should we get it from, if not by way of abstraction and generalization from individual cases of experience? And would this not make it an empirical concept, so that the whole project of asking for the conditions of its possibility would not lead us to the kind of certainty, necessity and universality we expect from a priori knowledge? There would be no guarantee that in the future we would not make discoveries that would give us new kinds of experiences or that would show us our experiences in a new light. Thus, we would have to admit that these experiences did not satisfy the conditions of experience we had set up originally. The a priori conditions would have to be revised. It seems that Kant did trust in our rational abilities in ways we do not any more. Kant believed that reason can understand itself and that we can find certainty. But it seems we no longer have such optimism, belief, or hope for absolute and certain knowledge. The idea of final solutions has been given up in many areas of research, and instead we have learned to be content with temporary solutions and various kinds of relative or approximate a priori's. Instead of requiring, as Kant did, that everything that happens must follow from something else according to strict and determinate universal rules, we are more modest now in merely demanding some kind of regularity. Part of Kant's rather demanding idea of the a priori has thus been given up. But does the entire transcendental project have to go as well? Or did analytic philosophy go too far by disregarding the second aspect of the a priori and by giving up the quest for the conditions of the possibility of experience in general? Already Hegel, often ignored by many analytic philosophers, did know how to relativize the a priori by conceiving of absolute knowledge as being relative to his time: Absolute knowledge is reached at the end of the Phenomonology of Spirit after we have worked through the history of consciousness from its beginning stages to its state in Hegel's day and age. From the very beginning of the Phenomenology, the present determines the perspective and limits of knowledge. Nevertheless, for Hegel as also for Heidegger in his analysis of Dasein as always already being-in-the-world, it is not a question of avoiding a vicious circle but of getting into the circle in the right way. Kant was still satisfied to acknowledge that in philosophy definitions come at the end of inquiry, and although Hegel expressed some reservations when he famously wrote in 1820, at the end of the preface to his Philosophy of Right, that philosophy always comes rather late ("die Eule der Minerva beginnt erst mit der einbrechenden Dämmerung ihren Flug"), both Kant and Hegel still trusted their holistic approaches and their preconceptions of Erfahrung überhaupt. It is intrinsic to such a holistic approach that metaphysics and epistemology cannot be neatly separated. But since the development of modern modal logic and especially since Kripke taught us how to distinguish aprioricity from necessity, it now seems possible to make this separation. It is this kind of separation that I want to question. Kripke gave examples of statements that are necessary and a posteriori, or contingent and a priori. It is the latter, his notion of the continent a priori, that I want to criticize in what follows. 2. In his lectures, published as Naming and Necessity, Kripke states, "I guess the traditional characterization from Kant goes somewhat like: a priori truths are those which can be known independently of any experience" (35). Taking an example from Wittgenstein, he argues that the statement P: "Stick S is one meter long" is a priori (or known a priori) but nevertheless contingent. Wittgenstein actually wrote: "There is one thing of which one can say neither that it is one meter long nor that it is not one meter long, and that is the standard meter in Paris" (PI, par. 49). Kripke probably misinterprets Wittgenstein when he says, "I think he must be wrong" (NN 54), as has been shown, convincingly I think, by Heather J. Gert (see bibliography). But whether Kripke here misinterprets Wittgenstein or not, it seems to me that on purely systematic grounds and contrary to what Kripke claims P is not both contingent and a priori. Kripke argues that the truth of P is contingent because heat could have been applied to the stick so that its length would have been different. He thinks of this as happening at the time of stipulation (NN, 55). In such a possible world the length of stick S would then not have been one meter. This is supposed to be part of the metaphysical status of P. On the other hand, the reference fixer knows P a priori because he knows that he used stick S to fix the reference of the expression "one meter." According to Kripke, "he knows automatically, without further investigation, that S is one meter long" (NN, 56). This is supposed to be part of the epistemic status of P. All this seems to make sense, and not only at first blush. Even after much thinking and contemplation this somewhat paradoxical example seems to convincingly show that there are statements that are both contingent and a priori. Nevertheless, I think this example does not show what Kripke wants it to. Let us look at P in the actual world wa and in an imagined world wi. P(wa) = (stick S is 1 m long) (wa) = stick S(wa) is 1 m (wa) long In order to know P(wa) a priori, the reference fixer has to keep in mind that he used stick S(wa) to fix the reference of what he calls "1 m". That is, he has to think: 1 m (wa) = 1 m (S(wa)) and 369 Knowledge, Belief, and the A Priori Christian Helmut Wenzel P(wa) = stick S(wa) is 1 m (S(wa)) long. In fact, the same applies to P(wi): P(wi) = stick S(wi) is 1 m (S(wi)) long. In wi stick S(wi) is used to carry out the stipulation, and therefore P(wi) turns out to be true as well; and the reference fixer in wi knows this a priori, as he did in wa. There is nothing special about wa in this respect. (I believe Kripke would not agree to this.) Nor is there anything special about the reference fixer. (Kripke would probably not accept this either.) We all know P a priori and the reference fixer is not in a privileged position. What we actually know a priori is not the statement P with respect to the particular stick S, but P with respect to any stick that happens to be the Urmeter. What we know a priori is the possibility of such a stipulation (which could be expressed in form of an if-then statement) and the fact that whatever we use as Urmeter is then "automatically", as Kripke says, one meter long. In the end, what makes P a priori is an ifthen statement. This is my first main objection to Kripke's account. Evidently, Kripke wants to understand it all differently. He takes the truth of P to be contingent: in fact, he wants P to be false in wi. He wants us to think of P in wi as: Q = stick S(wi) is not 1 m (wa) long Well, this statement is true, too, and we even know it a priori. But obviously this statement is different from P(wi). Now what should we take P to mean? How should we think of P in wi: as P(wi), as I suggest, or Q(wi), as Kripke wants it? As I said above, we have to think of "1 m" as being dependent on S. Otherwise we do not know P(wa) a priori. It is part of the meaning of "S" in P that it is the Urmeter. It is essential to S (in the context of P as known a priori) that it is the standard meter. We cannot meaningfully say Q in wi, because you cannot refer to 1 m (wa) in wi. Kripke of course wants to say Q in wa and not in wi. But I think this changes the meaning of P. To know P a priori, the stick and the reference (the act of referring) to the meter have to be taken from the same world, because the latter depends on the former. This is my second objection to Kripke's account. Kripke does not tell us how he thinks the meter is defined in wi. He thinks this not important. In wi the meter cannot be fixed as the length of S(wa), because there is no way to, so to speak, "go back" from wi to wa. Kripke is silent about this. But I do not think that we can afford to be silent here. We cannot simply say that we don't need to give an answer to this question just because we are dealing with the metaphysical aspect of P. Does God fix the reference of "1 m" in wi by taking it from wa ? Let us have a closer look at wi while trying to make sense of what Kripke wants us to see, i.e., that P is false in wi. If S(wi) is the standard meter and is thus used to fix the reference of "1 m" in wi, P will be true. Thus Kripke must assume that S(wi) is not used as the standard meter and that the meter is defined differently in wi. Certainly the meter cannot be defined in wi by means of S(wa), because S(wa) does not exist in wi. It must be defined differently, by another stick, by means of the wavelength of light, or in some other way. But in whatever way this is done, whatever the definition of 1 m in wi might be, the probability that 1 m (wi) = 1 m (wa) is zero, because there are infinitely many, even uncountably many different lengths. (We can make sense of the intuitive idea that lengths between two worlds can be compared as long as these two worlds are not too different from each other, which we assume is the case between wa and wi.) Of course S(wi) is longer than S(wa), and one can say that the length of stick S is contingent, that it just has the length it happens to have. But in the context of statement P, stick S has to be understood as the standard meter stick, be it in wa or in wi, and the reference of "1 m" has to be understood as being determined by stick S. Forgetting this in wi amounts to changing the meaning of P in wi. Based on what I have said so far, it seems to me that Kripke has not given us an example of the contingent a priori. Let us now have a look at Kant again. What would be a priori about P in Kant's eyes is, I think, the knowledge that there is a certain order and continuity in the world, especially that lengths do not change chaotically, that the concept of length therefore makes sense, and that we can set up a standard of length. We know for instance that if a stick S' is as long as S and another stick S" as long as S', then S" is also as long as S; or that if S' is twice as long as S and S" again twice as long a S', then S" is four times the length of S. In fact, to know P a priori we have to know many things of that kind and statement P has to be read as telling, or presupposing, a whole story, namely the story of setting up a standard of length and whatever this requires. The a priori aspect of P can thus be suitably expressed by an if-then statement, where a long story underlies (or should be expressed by) the if-part. Kripke thinks that contingency is a matter of metaphysics and not of epistemology, which leads him to say that S(wi) is not 1 m (wa) long. But this is not what P says when you look at it as known a priori. P is about the relation between the meter and the stick S in one and the same world (and not about two items from two different worlds). Kripke distorts the meaning of P when he argues that it is contingent. Furthermore, we know a priori not only that P, but in a way (by imagination) we also know a priori that S(wi) is not 1 m (wa) long. I do not see how we can distinguish metaphysics and epistemology here, nor how we can ever circumvent or undercut the latter. Bibliography Gert, H.J. 2002 "The Standard Meter by Any Name is Still a Meter Long", Philosophy and Phenomenological Research. Kripke, S. 1980 Naming and Necessity, Harvard University Press. Wittgenstein, L. 1953 Philosophical Investigations, Blackwell.


Philosophy

EuJAP | Vol. 17 | No. 1 | 2021 UDC: 17.034:159.947.5 https://doi.org/10.31820/ejap.17.1.9 (D2)5 ABSTRACT Both motivational internalism and externalism need to explain why sometimes moral judgments tend to motivate us. In this paper, I argue that Dreier' second-order desire model cannot be a plausible externalist alternative to explain the connection between moral judgments and motivation. I explain that the relevant second-order desire is merely a constitutive requirement of rationality because that desire makes a set of desires more unified and coherent. As a rational agent with the relevant second-order desire is disposed towards coherence, she will have some motivation to act in accordance with her moral judgments. Dreier's second-order desire model thus collapses into a form of internalism and cannot be a plausible externalist option to explain the connection between moral judgments and motivation. Keywords: Motivational internalism; externalism; second-order desire; practical rationality 1. Smith's Internalist Challenge In metaethics, motivational internalism is roughly the view according to which there is a necessary connection between moral judgments and motivation (Blackburn 1998; Gibbard 1990, 2003; Smith 1994, 1996a, 1996b, 1997). Externalism, in contrast, maintains that this connection is at best a contingent one (Brink 1989, 45-49, 1997; Copp 1995, 1997; MOTIVATIONAL INTERNALISM AND THE SECONDORDER DESIRE EXPLANATION Xiao Zhang1 1 Birmingham, West Midlands, U.K. Discussion – Received: 23/04/2020 Accepted: 20/07/2021 © 2021 Xiao Zhang Correspondence: email@example.com EuJAP | Vol. 17 | No. 1 | 2021 Discussion 2 6 Lillehammer 1997; Shafer-Landau 2003, 145-147; Sayre-McCord 1997; Svavarsdóttir 1999; Zangwill 2003, 2008). Yet, even if externalism were true, its defenders would still need to explain why at least our moral judgments usually tend to motivate us. Michael Smith, in his ground-breaking work on this topic, criticizes externalism with the famous fetishism argument. The fetishism argument begins from an ordinary observation that is normally accepted by both internalists and externalists. Suppose that I am engaged in a discussion with a fundraiser for a local charity that aims to improve the situation of homeless people. Let us further imagine that, initially, I have no intention to donate any money to the charity because I think that some homeless people should seek employment instead of relying on charities' help. During the conversion, however, the fundraiser tries to persuade me that the majority of homeless people cannot work for different personal reasons. And, even if some of them could really work, they cannot always successfully secure jobs sufficiently quickly. The fundraiser further explains that her charity raises money not only to provide basic necessities for homeless people, but also to run political campaigns that hopefully can resolve the issues faced by the homeless. Now, if I am convinced by the fundraiser, I will begin to believe that it is morally right for me to give at least some money to the charity. Usually, we can also expect that I will thereby come to have some motivation to actually do so. The previous case illustrates how, when you change your moral judgment about whether you should give some money to a local charity, your corresponding motivation to make the donation also tends to change accordingly. This phenomenon is so common that we can conclude that 'a change in motivation follows reliably in the wake of a change in moral judgment' (Smith 1994, 71). Both internalists and externalists then face the burden of having to explain why this is the case. As internalists generally believe that there exists a necessary connection between moral judgments and motivation, it will be easier for them to explain the previous phenomenon. Internalists have already introduced different forms of internalism that can explain the reliable connection between moral judgments and motivation. For example, Smith puts forward a form of conditional internalism which suggests that practical rationality is a condition that must be satisfied in order for there to be a reliable connection between moral judgments and motivation. Here, we can see Smith's (1994, 61) own formulation of internalism: Xiao Zhang: Motivational Internalism and The Second-Order Desire Explanation 7 The Practicality Requirement: [Necessarily], if an agent judges that it is right for her to φ in circumstances C, then either she is motivated to φ in C or she is practically irrational. Although externalists deny that there is that kind of an internal connection between moral judgments and motivation, they still need to explain why at least sometimes moral judgments tend to motivate us. As externalists claim that moral judgments at most motivate contingently, they would see to provide an explanation of why we generally tend to be motivated to act in accordance with our moral judgments from something else. At this point, Smith has assumed that the externalists would have to explain the connection between moral judgments and motivation by relying on a certain additional desire, namely the de dicto desire to do whatever is right (Smith 1994, 74; Smith 1997, 112). Yet, according to Smith (1994, 75; 1997, 113), the previous externalist explanation that relies on the de dicto desire to do whatever is right is counterintuitive. To see this, let us imagine that an agent judges that it is right to help her friends and family and also has a corresponding desire to help her friends and family. On the externalist account, the agent's desire to help her friends and family in this case derives from her non-derivate desire-the de dicto desire to do whatever is right. This means that the agent desires to help her friends and family because she desires to do whatever is right, and helping her friends and family just happens to be the right thing. However, the externalist account of how an agent should be motivated does not seem to fit our ordinary understanding of good people's psychology. We would normally expect that a morally good person cares non-derivatively about the well-being of her friends and family rather than the abstract property of moral rightness. Therefore, Smith (1994, 75) argues that if an agent were motivated by the de dicto desire to do whatever is right, she would have a moral fetish. 2. Dreier's Second-order Desire Model Externalists have tried to avoid Smith's fetishism objection by attempting to explain the reliable connection between moral judgments and motivation in ways that do not rely on the de dicto desire to do whatever is right (Copp 1995,1997; Cuneo 1999; Dreier 2000; Lillehammer 1997). In order to pursue this externalist strategy successfully, externalists will need to explain the recognized reliable connection between moral judgments and motivation in a way that is both compatible with externalism and able to avoid the fetishism objection. In this section, I focus on James Dreier's (2000) second-order desire model. EuJAP | Vol. 17 | No. 1 | 2021 Discussion 2 8 In order to explain what such a second-order desire is, Dreier begins from a maieutic end. A maieutic end is an end that is 'achieved through the process of coming to have other ends' (Schmitz 1994, 228; cf. Dreier 2000, 630). Suppose that you want to have a rewarding career, and, because of this, you want to pursue a career in medicine. Pursuing a career in medicine necessarily requires adopting other ends, such as the goal of relieving the patients' suffering and the goal of saving their lives. Effectively, the end of having a rewarding career in this case is also an end to have other ends in professional life, all of which make the career you end up choosing rewarding. Here, the end of having a career in medicine is a maieutic end because it can only be pursued through having other ends. The previous discussion suggests that having a maieutic end requires having some other ends. In this way, a maieutic end resembles a secondorder desire the having of which also requires having first-order desires. Dreier thinks that we should be able to explain the reliable connection between moral judgments and motivation by assuming that a most ordinary agent has the second-order desire to desire to do what she judges to be right. This enables us to formulate the following view: The Second-order Desire Model: Take an agent who has a second-order desire to desire to do what she judges to be right. If that agent judges that it is right for her to φ in circumstances C, then her relevant second-order desire will produce a firstorder desire to φ in her, given that this desire is a desire she desires to have. In response to Smith's objection, Dreier provides three reasons why he thinks that Smith is wrong (Dreier 2000, 636-637). Dreier first argues that nobody in the debate should complain about the relevant second-order desire itself because we should expect that an ordinary moral agent will have that desire. Imagine an agent who is not sure about what the rightmaking features of an action are. Suppose that the agent is then asked: if someday you are able to figure out what the right-making features of the action are, would you hope to be motivated by those right-making features? As Dreier puts it, we would certainly expect the agent to say 'yes'-to confirm that she would desire herself to be motivated by the right-making features of an action in the future. If the agent instead hoped that she would not be motivated by those right-making features in the future whatever they are, she would not seem to count as a good moral agent. Secondly, Dreier also considers whether the relevant second-order desire would play too much of a role in the previous account of moral motivation, Xiao Zhang: Motivational Internalism and The Second-Order Desire Explanation 9 which he believes to be the most important concern behind the internalist objections. If that were the case, internalists could argue that the relevant second-order desire is merely another kind of the de dicto desire to do whatever is right. Yet, according to Dreier, the relevant second-order desire plays only a limited role in the account-a role that is not objectionable. Once the second-order desire in question produces the relevant first-order desire in the wake of a change in one's moral judgments, the relevant second-order desire does not need to maintain the first-order desire after that. Consequently, the relevant second-order desire plays, according to Dreier, only a very limited causal role in explaining how an agent becomes motivated to act in accordance with her moral judgments. Dreier's own illustration of this second point is the following (Dreier 2000, 636-637). Let us imagine that David judges that it is right to stop using chimps in medical research. In this case, the relevant second-order desire in him would generate a first-order desire to stop doing so in the way described above. After this point, David's first-order desire can play a motivating role by itself, and it can even produce other first-order desires. For example, that first-order desire to end using chimps in medical research can generate a new first-order desire to use other substitutes or a first-order desire to stop other researchers who continue to use chimps in their medical research. That said, all of David's first-order desires in this case are de re desires that are not derivative of any other first-order desires and so they cannot be accused of being fetishistic. The third and last point Dreier makes can be seen as a further development of his second claim. Dreier claims that the resulting first-order desires are not conditional on rightness. To see why this would be the case, Dreier (2000, 637) invites us to compare the following two formulas that both try to describe David's relevant first-order desire in the previous example: 1. David desires that David does x 2. David desires that David does x so long as x is right According to Drier, the first formula describes David's first-order desire in the previous case correctly, whereas the second formula appears to misunderstand David's first-order desires. Arguably, if David comes to have the first-order desire to end using chimps in medical research, this first-order desire will thereafter exist and function without being influenced by the judgment that it is wrong to use chimps in medical research. This view coheres with Dreier's second point according to which the relevant second-order desire plays only a limited causal role in an agent's process of acquiring motivation. EuJAP | Vol. 17 | No. 1 | 2021 Discussion 2 10 3. The Second-Order Desire Model Collapses into A Form of Internalism In the previous section, I examined whether the second-order desire model, as a version of externalism, is able to explain the reliable connection between moral judgments and motivation in a non-fetishistic way. At least for the purpose of this paper and on the basis of Dreier's responses, I am willing to grant that perhaps it can. Rather, what I want to challenge next is whether this account is compatible with externalism itself. In the rest of this section, I will, however, try to argue that the relevant second-order desire required by Dreier's model is a constitutive requirement of rationality itself. This means that the fundamental problem of the secondorder desire model is that it collapses into a form of internalism and so the response cannot be available to externalists. Let us then begin from of what practical rationality is generally thought to consists.1 According to Michael Smith himself, in order to be fully rational, an agent has to meet four requirements: she should have no false beliefs, she should have all the relevant true beliefs, she should have a systematically justifiable set of desires and she should not suffer from any physical or psychological disturbances (Smith 1994, 156-161; 1995, 112116; 1996a, 160; 2002, 311-315). To see why the relevant second-order desire to have the first-order desires that match one's moral judgments would be required by the previous 1 Here, it is worthwhile to consider an objection to Smith's concept of practical rationality, which was first stated by Alex Miller (2003, 221), and echoed by Roskies (2003, 53) and Strandberg (2013, 29-31). On Miller's view, Smith tends to think that, when the additional condition-being practically rational-has not been met, something blocks the normal way in which moral judgments give rise to motivation. This entails that, when the relevant condition has been met, the cases in which moral judgments fail to motivate cannot exist. This entailment thereby leads to the concern that Smith formulates his view merely by precluding all the situations where the counterexamples could be put forward. All that is left of internalism is thus the claim that internalism is true except when internalism is not true. Actually, it seems that the condition in which there is no connection between moral judgments and motivation has been given an insubstantial characterization. Because of this, the resulting forms of conditional internalism become trivial. Yet, Smith's conditional internalism will not be trivially true simply because it formulates the condition which it then uses to deal with counterexamples. In this section, I will discuss that in order to count as fully rational, an agent has to satisfy four requirements. This description of the requirements for being fully rational provides an informative, substantial characterization of the condition. In Section 4.2, I will provide an independent, substantial explanation of the condition in which moral judgments must lead to motivation. Since moral agents in the counterexamples fail to satisfy the proposed internalist condition, it is understandable that they remain unmotivated by their relevant moral judgments. Xiao Zhang: Motivational Internalism and The Second-Order Desire Explanation 11 constitutive requirements of rationality, we need to focus on the third requirement of rationality-that of having a systematically justifiable set of desires. By this third requirement, Smith means that a rational agent must have coherent and unified sets of desires. This is to say that a rational agent's desires do not first of all tend to conflict with each other-they do not pull the agent towards different directions at the same time. Additionally, the desires in the set support each other: they are in harmony with each other. We can then consider in more detail how we should understand what it is for a set of desires to be coherent and unified. For example, if I feel cold, I may come to have a desire to turn up the heating and to put on more clothes. I might also come to have a desire not to open the window as doing so would bring even more cold air into the room. I might even have a higherorder desire to desire to take measures to keep the room warm. In addition, if there are other people in the room, I might continue to desire that those people also both desire and do as I do. My desires in this case are what Smith calls a systematically justifiable set of desires. It is evident that my desires aim at the same direction and they support one another rather than contradict with each other. Because of this, having such a set of coherent and unified desires should be thought of as rational-the desires in the set will finally lead to achieving what you most care about. Of course, sometimes there will unavoidably be situations in which you will have different first-order desires that are not very coherent or unified, and sometimes those desires may even contradict each other. For example, you may have a set of desires concerning which methods of transport you would like to use for travelling. This set can include a desire to take a bus to work, a train when travelling to other cities nearby, and a desire to fly when you go abroad. At least initially, could the previous set of desires be made more coherent and unified? At this point, Smith argues that a fully rational agent's disposition towards coherence and unity will under some circumstances change her desires (Smith 1994, 159-161; 1997, 94). The rational disposition towards coherence and unity can, for example, produce general desires that will support the more specific desires and also these new general desires will in some cases destroy some of the previous first-order desires that do not fit them. Smith would then ask you to consider whether the previous specific desires would be more systematically justifiable if a more general desire which could justify and explain those specific desires were added to your psychological make-up. For example, you could add a general desire-a desire to choose the most affordable and convenient means to go where you want to go-to your set of desires. This general desire could EuJAP | Vol. 17 | No. 1 | 2021 Discussion 2 12 justify the previous set of desires by explaining why you would not want to travel to a faraway country by bus given that it is obvious that traveling by plane to another country is often more convenient and more economical. With the new added general desire, the relevant set of desires will be more systematically justifiable and thus more unified and also rationally preferable. Analogously, we can argue that the second-order desire to desire to do what you judge to be right would be required by rationality, exactly in the same way as the general desire to travel in the most economical and convenient way is required in the case above. Consider, for example, an agent who has various moral desires, desires to treat her friends well, to keep her promises, to not cause physical harm to anyone and so on. These first-order desires are all distinct from one another because they are all related to different kinds of behaviour. However, a second-order desire to desire to do what one judges to be right would in this case justify and explain why the agent has the previous desires to do all the different things that she judges to be right. It could then be argued that the desiderative set also becomes more rationally preferable as a consequence of having that second-order desire.2 If, as I have just argued, the relevant second-order desire discussed by Dreier is required by the fundamental constitutive requirements of rationality-coherence and unity, having a second-order desire to do what one judges to be right (that will produce a first-order desire) is a matter of fulfilling a constitutive requirement of rationality. This means that a rational agent, who satisfies the constitutive requirements of rationality, would have the second-order desire to desire to do what she judges to be right. Assuming that the agent must also have the desires that she desires to have (given her constitutive disposition towards coherence), Dreier's second-order desire model thus entails that a rational agent will necessarily have at least some motivation to act in accordance with her moral judgments. If the agent did not, she would be less coherent and less rational as well. 2 Someone might worry that the argument in this section does not show that rationality requires an agent to have the relevant second-order desire. Rather, the argument only shows that rationality requires an agent to have the relevant second-order desire if she has already had various moral desires. This worry seems to treat various moral desires as a premise of my argument. But that is not the reason why I employ various moral desires in my example. Those various moral desires are employed merely to show that the relevant second-order desire can make an agent's various moral desires more rationally preferable when she conducts moral deliberation. It would be too demanding to assume that an agent cannot have different moral desires when conducting moral deliberation. Xiao Zhang: Motivational Internalism and The Second-Order Desire Explanation 13 This consequence furthermore means that Dreier's second-order desire model actually entails a form of conditional internalism the acceptance of which creates a commitment to a necessary connection between moral judgments and motivation. As a result, it seems that what Dreier proposes on the basis of the relevant second-order desires cannot be an entirely new externalist solution to the problem of moral motivation. Rather, the secondorder desire model has actually collapsed into a form of internalism. 4. Responses to Objections I have argued that the second-order desire model collapses into a form of conditional internalism. Before concluding, I shall consider two objections which the externalists might put forward to my argument. The first objection claims that the second-order desire model does not collapse into a form of internalism. The second objection further claims that, even if the second-order desire model collapses into another proposal, that proposal cannot be a form of internalism. In response, in the rest of this section, I will argue that both potential objections are implausible. 4.1 A Response to Sayre-McCord's Objection The externalists may refuse to accept my argument that the second-order desire model collapses into a form of internalism. They could, for example, challenge the claim that a more general back-ground desire can make a given set of desires more coherent, unified and therefore also more rational (Sayre-McCord 1997, 75). If, arguably, a more general desire cannot make a given set of desires more coherent and unified, then an agent who comes to have such desires cannot be thought of as more rational. Furthermore, it could also be claimed that the relevant second-order desire of Dreier's model cannot contribute to making an ordinary moral agent more rational either. If this were right, we would have no reason to believe that the second-order desire model collapses into a form of internalism as I have suggested. To illustrate this concern, we can consider Geoffrey Sayre-McCord's case of choosing an ice cream (Sayre-McCord 1997, 75). If we suppose that Smith's view is true, then, if I have a desire for coffee ice cream, my set of desires could be argued to exhibit more coherence and unity if a more general unconditional desire for ice cream were added to my current desiderative profile. My set of desires could be claimed to be more coherent and unified because the newly added general desire would be able to explain why I desire to enjoy coffee ice cream. EuJAP | Vol. 17 | No. 1 | 2021 Discussion 2 14 In this situation, eating coffee ice cream will satisfy both my desire for coffee ice cream and my general unconditional desire for ice cream. SayreMcCord then objects that it is not plausible to think that satisfying the previous two desires would make me any more rational than how rational I am with merely my original desire (Sayre-McCord 1997, 76). So, he thinks that adding more desires, including more general desires, to a desiderative profile cannot itself enhance an agent's rationality as Smith suggests. It seems that the crucial dispute between Sayre-McCord and Smith is over whether adding a more general desire to an agent's desiderative profile can make the agent more rational. I think that Sayre-McCord is right in claiming that merely satisfying more desires cannot itself make an agent more rational. Yet, the number of satisfied desires is not what Smith's view of rationality is based on. The key point of his view is that sometimes adding a more general desire to an existing set of desires can make the set more coherent and unified. This is the real reason why Smith would think that adding a more general desire can in the previous case make my desire set more rationally preferable. In the previous case, it is supposed that I initially have a desire to have coffee ice cream. Usually, my desire to have coffee ice cream will move me to get it when it is available. Despite this, if I only had this one desire, I would presumably often ask myself: why do I choose to have coffee ice cream rather than other flavours or even other kinds of dessert (Smith 1997, 94)? The desire to have coffee ice cream itself does not seem to be able to answer this question. Yet, if a general, unconditional desire to eat what I enjoy eating, for example, were added to my desire set, this more general desire would be able to explain my specific desire to have coffee ice cream. The desire to eat coffee ice cream would no longer appear to be arbitrary, but rather it would be well-supported by the more general desire. In this way, my desire set has turned out to be more coherent, unified and thus more rationally preferable. 4.2 A Response to Bromwich's Objection The externalists may continue to reject my argument by presenting Bromwich's (2010, 344; 2011, 75) challenge which claims that Smith's conditional internalism fails to capture the necessary connection between moral judgments and motivation. According to Bromwich, once practical rationality is inserted between moral judgments and motivation, it becomes unclear whether the motivation is still internal or built in to those moral judgments. Factors external to moral judgments-such as practical rationality-are now necessary for moral judgments to cause motivation. Xiao Zhang: Motivational Internalism and The Second-Order Desire Explanation 15 Arguably, it is not an agent's moral judgments that produce motivation, but rather it is an agent's disposition towards coherence required by practical rationality that produces motivation to act accordingly (Bromwich 2011, 75; Svavarsdóttir 1999, 165). As a result, the necessary connection that is supposed to exist between moral judgments and motivation actually exists between an agent's disposition towards coherence and her motivation. If Bromwich's objection were right, then Smith's conditional internalism would not be regarded as an internalist view, and this furthermore means that even if the second-order desire model does collapse, it does not collapse into a form of internalism. In order to see why Bromwich's challenge is implausible to accept, let us first consider why Smith thinks that moral judgments produce motivation essentially. Smith begins by analysing the concepts employed in moral judgments (in a similar way as we could try to analyse other concepts). Take the concept of 'a bachelor' for illustration. When I think that Mark is a bachelor, what I am thinking of is that Mark is a male and unmarried. This is because the concept of bachelorhood can be reductively analysed in terms of being male and unmarriedness. Similarly, Smith claims that moral concepts can be reductively understood to be about reasons for actions (Smith 1994, 62). When an action is judged to be right or wrong, a part of this thought is always that there are at least some reasons either to perform or refrain from doing the action. The content of an agent's moral judgments, that is, the content of the thought that there are reasons for actions can be investigated further. Smith's (1994, 151-152) proposal is that, when an agent believes that there are reasons for her to carry out a certain action, she essentially believes that her fully rational version would want her to do that action in the actual situation she is in. So, for example, an agent's judgment that it is right to help innocent people is a judgment about what she has reasons to do. And, the content of this judgment, according to Smith, is that her fully rational version would want the agent to help the innocent in the situation she is in. At this point, based on the content of her moral judgments, the agent has two options: either she will desire to help those innocent people to get rid of the plight or she will lack that desire. As I have discussed in Section 3, because practical rationality can be thought to consist at least in part of a disposition to have coherent mental states, a practically rational agent is disposed towards coherence. It is then plausible to suggest that a desire to help innocent people coheres better with the belief according to which the agent's fully rational version would want her to help the innocent. This means that, when an agent is practically rational, she will desire to act in accordance with her moral judgments, or so Smith argues. EuJAP | Vol. 17 | No. 1 | 2021 Discussion 2 16 The above discussion shows that an agent's disposition towards coherence plays an important role in Smith's explanation of how moral judgments produce motivation. But it would be implausible to thus claim that there actually exists a necessary connection between an agent's disposition towards coherence and her motivation as Bromwich does. Bromwich's challenge claims that it is an agent's disposition towards coherence that produces motivation. In contrast, Smith's own explanation suggests that it is an agent's moral judgment that produces corresponding motivation. On Smith's view, an agent's disposition towards coherence does not cause motivation, but rather it causes her motivation to cohere with the content of her moral judgment. The problem with Bromwich's challenge is that it mistakes the causal role that a moral judgment plays for the causal role that an agent's disposition towards coherence plays within Smith's conditional internalism. Given that Bromwich's challenge is based on a misunderstanding of Smith's view, we should still believe that there exists a reliable connection between moral judgments and motivation within Smith's internalist framework. 5. Conclusion In this paper, I have argued that Dreier's second-order desire model collapsed into a form of internalism and thus cannot be available as an externalist option. We normally assume that a rational agent who has made a genuine moral judgment about what the right thing to do is has at least some motivation to perform that action, otherwise, she would be thought of as less coherent. I explained how rationality can be used to account for previous intuitions. It turns out that rationality itself requires that a rational agent has a second-order desire to desire what she judges to be right so that this desire makes the agent's set of desires more unified and coherent. Furthermore, because a rational agent who has the relevant second-order desire is disposed towards coherence, she will have some motivation to act in accordance with her moral judgments. As a consequence, Dreier's second-order desire model collapses into a form of internalism that is conditional on rationality. This also means that Dreier's second-order desire model cannot be used as an externalist alternative to explain the reliable connection between moral judgments and motivation. 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