Vocational Virtue Ethics: Prospects for a Virtue Ethic Approach to Business

Such evaluative judgments regarding a qualitatively “higher” mode of life are a form of what Charles Taylor calls “strong evaluation”, which involves qualitative distinctions of worth, e.g., in terms of higher and lower, noble and base, admirable and contemptible, etc. (1989, p. 4). Now, it should be mentioned that there are some contemporary virtue ethicists who have attempted to provide an account of the virtues without recourse to such strong evaluative judgments. Instead, they attempt to specify an account of human flourishing that is understood on analogy with what it is for plants and non-human animals to flourish and then they seek to show the instrumental importance of the virtues for achieving flourishing so understood. For instance, Philippa Foot says: “moral virtues are qualities necessary if men are to get on well in a world in which they are frightened, tempted by pleasure and liable to hurt rather than help each other” (2002, p. 80). Foot’s account of the virtues has been criticized by John McDowell for failing to account for the role of the strong evaluative category of “the noble”, which plays a central role in Aristotle’s ethics (1998, pp. 167–169; cf. Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, II.3, 1104b27–1105a2; II.4, 1105a29–35; III.7, 1115b11–14; IV.1, 1120a24–28). I will be operating with the view that an Aristotelian virtue ethic perspective does indeed involve such strong evaluative judgments.

I take an “inclusivist” reading of Aristotle’s contention that the human good requires “the best and most complete virtue” in that I understand this to include the entire catalogue of the virtues, i.e., both the virtues of character and the virtues of intellect. This is in contrast to the “exclusivist” or “intellectualist” reading of Aristotle, which says that “the best and most complete virtue” only refers to the intellectual virtues exhibited in theoretical study. I cannot defend my reading here, but one should consult Thomas Nagel’s “Aristotle on Eudaimonia” and J.L. Ackrill’s “Aristotle on Eudaimonia” for representative accounts of this debate; both essays are found in A.O. Rorty (ed.) (1980).

For references to Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics I use the abbreviation “NE”, followed by book, chapter, and line numbers. I use T. Irwin’s translation (Aristotle 1999). For Aristotle’s Politics I use the abbreviation “P”, followed by book, chapter, and line numbers. I use C. Lord’s translation (Aristotle 1984).

For another important discussion of this issue see the second chapter of Charles Taylor’s Sources of the Self, which is entitled “The Self in Moral Space” (1989).

I am indebted to Geoff Moore for pointing me to this essay (see Moore 2005a, pp. 242–243).

On these points see MacIntyre (2007 [1981; 1984], p. 198). For a critique of consequentialism from the standpoint of the virtue of integrity see Bernard Williams’ famous chapter on “Integrity” in Smart and Williams (1973).

This definition is found in the Catechism of the Catholic Church (Anonymous 1994, Paragraph 1906, p. 517). I think it is one of the best and most concise definitions of the “common good”. It should be noted that the Catholic Church has a long and rich tradition of reflection on the common good (see O’Brien and Shannon 1992).

It is crucial to MacIntyre’s account that as independent practical reasoners we must realize that we are also called upon to give the same kind of care, education, and protection that we have received from others. Indeed, he says that it is “in virtue of what we have received that we owe” (1999, p. 101; one might add that we also owe because of the claims of human dignity). The sense of indebtedness and the obligation of reciprocity that follows from it are fundamental for sustaining those relationships of giving and receiving through which we promote the common good and thereby our own good. But it cannot be strict reciprocity, MacIntyre says, since often times those to whom we will be called upon to give will not be the same person and what we are called upon to give will often not be the same thing (ibid., p. 100).

Ideas of human “dignity” or “worth” are typically tied to some notion of our human capacity for a higher mode of life, such as a life that embodies rationality (as in Stoic and Kantian views), or a life of full communion with God and other human beings (as in Jewish and Christian views) see Taylor (1989, pp. 5, 25). Although the idea of human dignity is not central to Aristotle’s ethics, nevertheless, it seems possible to articulate an Aristotelian notion of human dignity based on our human capacity for the virtuous life.

In my formulation of these two criteria I am indebted to MacIntyre’s discussion of the problems of the divided self and the lack of commitment to the common good in liberal individualist social orders in MacIntyre (1988, pp. 346–347). I am also indebted to Geoff Moore’s discussion of the threat to integrity of character and to genuine community posed by the tendency to avarice within modern business organizations in Moore (2005a). See also Alford and McNaughton (2001), Chs. 1, 2.

For a discussion of the historical roots of the idea of a calling and also other similar notions before its particular use in the “Protestant ethic” see Weber (2001 [1930], pp. 154–163).

Akeel Bilgrami uses the term “external calling” for that which “makes normative demands on us” (2010, p. 156; cf. Alford and McNaughton 2001, p. 101).

For this distinction used in a Christian framework see Perkins (2005).

I think this tendency to focus on specific callings without explicit reference to their relationship to an overarching general calling to promote the good life for ourselves and for others has contributed to the link that some have seen between the notion of a calling and the rise of individualism in Western culture (see Dyck and Schroeder 2005, p. 708; Weber 2001 [1930]).

Indeed, Freeman begins from what he says is a “narrow definition” of a stakeholder, viz., “those groups who are vital to the survival and success of the corporation” (2006, p. 215).

In my view the central difficulty with Rawls’ approach is motivating people to adopt the veil of ignorance and to regard the principles of justice (i.e., the fair terms of social cooperation) adopted from that standpoint as action-guiding, especially when this requires us to set aside our particular conceptions of the good life (see Sandel 1984). As I mentioned, Rawls appeals to enlightened self-interest given the need for social cooperation for mutual benefit. But, as I am suggesting, there is a problem in the case where someone does not regard it to be his or her self-interest to adopt such fair terms of social cooperation.

On the idea of “constitutive community” see Sandel (1984, pp. 85–91).

For similar perspectives to my approach to stakeholder theory, but without the “vocational virtue ethic” component, see Alford and McNaughton (2001, Ch. 2); Dyck and Schroeder (2005, pp. 727–728); Melé (2012). I think my focus on the concept of a “calling” can be seen as a way of building on these other views.

For a good discussion about the transition from the free labor system to the wage labor system see Sandel (1996, Ch. 6).

We might actually speak here of a company having a specific calling and then depending on one’s role within the company one may have an even further specified calling. But ultimately these various levels of specific callings must relate to the general calling to pursue the good life for oneself and for others.

It should also be said that insofar as the corporate culture of a company does in fact embody the virtues and fulfill its specific calling it stands as an exemplary company within a community that can inspire the imitation of other companies.

It should be remarked that lack of alignment in values could of course also arise, in varying degrees, in other spheres of life; e.g., in family life, among friends, among fellow citizens, etc. In the case of family and friends we might expect there to be greater alignment in values insofar as we choose spouses and friends who have similar values and insofar as parents we raise our children with certain values and try to habituate them to have certain virtues. But it also happens that differences in values do arise among family and friends and negotiating these differences can be difficult. However, it is arguably the case that for many people it is in their work life where divergences of values can most often arise. One reason for this is that although some people are able to choose a job in which there is value-alignment, for others, as I will mention shortly, their social and economic condition can make this difficult. Moreover, as will also be discussed more shortly, there seems to be a “tendency to avarice” in advanced capitalist economies that can make it difficult to act virtuously in one’s work life.

In order to counter this tendency to avarice Moore attempts to recover the ideal of craftsmanship for work in contemporary business organizations. While there is much in common between our perspectives, I find his ideal of craftsmanship to be limited in important ways. For one thing, it does not offer a role-transcending moral perspective, which is needed for maintaining integrity and constancy in the practice of virtue and for avoiding vicious activities. In addition, we might question the extent to which the ideal of craftsmanship can be applied in the contemporary business world since it seems more at home in the pre-industrialized free labor system than in the wage labor system that is now characteristic of the modern industrialized, high-tech business world. While it applies in some cases, the meaning of craftsmanship seems stretched in regard to many forms of work in contemporary business organizations. I think this can be seen when Moore writes: “The concept of craftsmanship would need to be as true for the blue-collar worker on the shop-floor (though possibly in this case by association with and pride in the larger whole) as for the skilled worker, the marketing executive and the managing director” (2005a, p. 249).

Moore does not address the ideal of a calling except in a footnote, in which he says: “It is worth noting here, however, that this reconceptualization [of business as a practice of craftsmanship] does not go as far as suggesting that business is a “calling” or vocation […] There is something unique about a calling […] that is not encapsulated in both the ubiquity of business nor the similarity of roles in different organizations. This is not to say that particular individuals may not find their particular vocation in a specific business organisation at a certain point in their lives, but the concept of craftsmanship, in the way described here is, I maintain, a better description” (ibid., fn. 7, p. 253). It should be clear from the preceding that my understanding of a calling or vocation is in important ways different from what Moore takes it to be here. In particular, when Moore says that there is “something unique about a calling” I think this may only be true of what I call a “specific calling”, as distinguished from a “general calling”, which is the overarching calling we all have to pursue the good life for ourselves and for others through the practice of the virtues.

The distinction between these two views of business success tracks well with the distinction that Domènec Melé draws between an “economism-based business ethos” and a “humanist business ethos” (2012, pp. 89–90).