The present generation, and likely many to follow, faces one of history’s profound instances of moral uncertainty: the issue of homosexuality and its implications for human rights. Arguments over the legality of gay and lesbian marriages seem unending, and the ethical concerns underlying such arguments are a matter of constant conflict. One might see it as a question of the morality of such relationships; others might see it as a purely sociopolitical struggle, not unlike those of the past. It is difficult not to view the issue as yet another battle for equality by an oppressed people who have faced discrimination for centuries—no different, perhaps, than the abolitionist movement or the protests for women’s suffrage. Like any such strife toward civil liberty, however, the issue is complicated. The moral dimensions of the homosexual lifestyle are widely diverse. The nature of love and its relationship to sex, for example, is a core element of the debate; definitions and opinions regarding their importance vary. Because of this, the different conceptions of love, as well as the purpose and value of sex, come under constant examination by the conflicted parties. Moreover, if homosexuality is ultimately determined by the majority of a society to be immoral, should the law directly reflect that? In order to near a conclusion regarding the matter, one must first determine the role love plays in the moral individual’s life; and if the sexual component to same-sex relationships must also be evaluated, then one must question the social and ethical repercussions of such lifestyles.

In Marsilio Ficino’s Commentary on Plato’s Symposium on Love, the author explains that, according to the platonic conception of the formation of our universe, “Love accompanies chaos, precedes the world, wakens the sleeping, lights the dark, gives life to the dead, gives form to the formless, perfects the imperfect” (40). Ficino defines love as “the desire for beauty” (40). By this conception, which he explains is the one most common among philosophers, love requires only the intellect and the more sophisticated forms of perception—those of sight and sound—and therefore, a desire for anything more—that which requires touching, for instance—must be no quest for beauty (and so, not love), but rather sexual lust (41). Platonic love, then, which has long been held to be the ultimate form of love, requires nothing of the exchange of touches, kisses, or sexual acts. It is quite reasonable to assume that platonic love between two individuals of the same sex occurs all the time—it need not be a taboo thing at all. Two men or women may develop a deep, intimate admiration for one another that ultimately transcends the need for sex. According to Plato’s definition of love, then, sexual relationships are set apart from love entirely. They neither require love to occur nor collapse under its existence; the two are simply parallel desires. Therefore, the question of whether or not homosexuality is a morality acceptable lifestyle cannot be solved by relying on the essence of love.

Mortimer J. Adler, in his book Desires: Right & Wrong, poses a slightly different conception of love. He argues that one is not wrong in associating love with lust or sex, because love in the traditional sense generally stems from an erotic feeling of attraction toward another. Adler explains that the difference between love and a merely sexual relationship lies in the intent of each participant. A sexual relationship, according to Adler, may be considered one of love if its participants desire to give mutual pleasure to one another, rather than merely seek to use one another as a means to satisfy one’s own selfish sexual needs (74-5). This need not have a negative connotation, as it so often does. If earthly love is the penultimate goal of all moral persons (before death, in other words), then sex can be understood as a basic component of human life. The desire for its pleasures is as natural as the drive to seek out food, or shelter from a torrent, and therefore should be understood as a socially acceptable relationship between individuals, despite what privacy norms dominate a given culture. Adler also adds, however, that there is yet another conception of love: divine love. This, he explains, is what the Greeks initially referred to as a kind of altruistic recognition of love for God and the charity of others (75). One might argue that sex cannot possibly be associated with this higher, selfless form of love. That seems incongruous with various other Christian teachings. If God indeed loves all of Creation, as well as all his children—and as a result, the unique talents of the world’s many individuals are to be praised—then is sex not simply another one of the gifts God has bestowed upon humanity? Religions the world over regard various practices one might view as unusual as means to reach either God or similar deities: the use of drugs, the enactment of rituals, the literal or figurative display of cannibalizing God Incarnate, meditative mysticism, et cetera. Almost all of these practices rely on a belief in the purely supernatural. Meditation as a vehicle to reach the realm of the divine implies that God or some other deity must exist, at least in part, within ourselves—our mental, spiritual selves, if not our physical forms. Might sexual relationships be seen as another legitimate path toward God? If one declares the act of homosexual intercourse to be unnatural, as is the common argument, then such claims might be easily refuted on the basis that there is more to love than sex, and platonic love is therefore independent of the perceived necessity of procreation. One might then reply that any sexual act beyond the primary “intended” use of human genitalia (sexual reproduction) is immoral in the eyes of God, but then what of drug use in spirituality? The sodomy and various oral sex acts that are performed by homosexual lovers of either gender are surely no less natural than the harvesting, processing, and ingestion of substances known to chemically alter the function of the human brain—not excluding the wine consumed in the ritual of communion to signify the blood of Christ. It is, of course, dubious that one could effectively argue that there is anything even remotely natural about the act of cannibalism within the so-called “developing world.”

According to Rachels, author of The Elements of Moral Philosophy, the Gallup Poll questions the American public on their position regarding homosexuality. When asked whether the homosexual lifestyle is an acceptable social alternative to heterosexual partnerships, 57% of the poll’s participants in 2008 agreed that it was. When asked about the morality of homosexual relations, the nation was divided almost precisely in half (32). This perhaps indicates that the United States feels there ought to be a separation between personal beliefs regarding morality and the legality of others’ relationships; a sign that democracy may be praised for its inclusiveness and allowance of ethical subjectivity.

The arguments in favor of and against homosexuality vary, especially depending on the ethical theory applied therein. Ethical subjectivism almost immediately favors homosexual individuals, because it cannot allow for them to be rightly condemned if they feel there is nothing immoral about their desires. As Rachels points out, homosexuals are only pursuing happiness through their relationships. Sex is a powerful drive in human individuals, just as it is in all sexual animals, and to deny homosexuals a right to the sex they desire would be to deliberately obstruct their path toward happiness. He also reasserts the claim of many homosexuals that the homosexual lifestyle, like our common conception of heterosexuality, is not about sex but rather about the quest for love that may either precede or accompany a sexual relationship. Just as heterosexuals at no point choose to lead heterosexual lifestyles, homosexuals are also born with their own set of earthly desires; one’s sexual orientation, with perhaps a few rare exceptions, is destined from (or even before) the moment of birth (44). If morality is premised upon the ideas that human beings have a capacity for reason, and some modicum of free will, then how can one justifiably be persecuted for that which they had no part in choosing? If anyone, notwithstanding any future prospect for designer children via gene-splicing, has any part in the decision of one individual to pursue a homosexual lifestyle, then certainly it must God Himself. What sort of God, one must then ask, would condemn His own creation? The only reasonable response to such a question would be to presume He would not; that in truth it is humankind who exacts such judgments.

In his book, Sex, Money & Power: An Essay in Christian Social Ethics, Philip Turner calls upon the Church to radically revise its moral thinking in regard to sexual relationships in order to suit the reality of the present normative values of our society. He explains that the Church, and the Christian hard right, puts undue emphasis on a need to return to the ethical ideas of the past. Instead, he argues in favor of acknowledging the commonplace nature, and value of, certain sexual acts as necessary social exchanges. Turner goes on to explain the ethical view of relationships termed self-actualizationism, which is based largely upon the premise that most relationships, including those of sexual nature, are God-given gifts, and contribute to one’s personal growth and self-discovery. Under this view of relationship ethics, oft-condemned acts such as adultery, polyandry, and homosexuality are seen as acts which might positively contribute to one’s individual growth. He asserts his belief that allowing for more inclusiveness in the criteria for what is morally acceptable in the realm of sex (for example, celebrating homosexuality) would better reflect the Church’s teaching that God loves all his diverse children equally. However, acts which are seen by normative social beliefs as abhorrent, such as pornography and bestiality, are still considered immoral in the study of self-actualizationism (32-5). This idea of religious revisionism is evidence that not all clergy, particularly among varying denominations, are necessarily in agreement with one another regarding the subject of open sexuality as moral or immoral. Moreover, the idea that including homosexuality as a practice accepted by the Church would allow for a variety of positive, foreseeable results: It would add religious value to existing homosexual relationships, which might improve the lives of those effected in terms of love and the quality of their relationship with God; and similarly, it would open the possibility for homosexual couples to receive the blessing of their churches and a sense of social belonging.

If the Church were, by such persuasion, to change their policy toward homosexuality, it would not necessarily have to revise their views regarding other presently condemned acts. If the Church were unwilling, for example, to allow the rising social trend of pre-marital, live-in sexual relationships to become an acceptable practice, homosexuality need not suffer such dismissal. For one, allowing homosexual partnerships and related sex acts would draw such individuals at least toward an appreciation of the Church, if not to become actual members of a particular faith. Also, by allowing legal unions to be given the blessing of God (and what privilege, one might ask, is it of humankind’s to deliver His blessing?) and the Church, there can be little doubt that in time there would be an observable decline in other acts Christianity feels to be immoral: Adultery, along with other forms of pre-marital sex, would potentially grow less common among homosexuals in a world where the marriage of same is granted society’s blessing; and promiscuity, similarly, would decline in favor of more fulfilling, perhaps everlasting unions.

Faced with conflicted beliefs from within, the Church might understandably turn to the teachings of its Bible for answers. They would be sure to find, then—or at least interpret as such—that God considers homosexuality (or so-called sodomy, a term with irrevocably negative connotations) to be a sin. What of sin, then? If God’s regard for a particular practice can only be known through the Bible, believed by the Church to be the very word of God Himself, then one might propose that the Bible be interpreted with caution. While those who place their faith in Christianity may assert that the Bible was penned by human beings as God acted through them, one cannot dismiss the sheer power that this idea affords the Church. Such power corrupts, and leaves the validity of the Bible’s teachings uncertain. One must consider the possibility that what God views as sin, and what the Church claims to be sin, are not necessarily the same. For instance, as John Portmann mentions in his introduction to In Defense of Sin, the Ten Commandments make no mention of homosexuality (5). Richard Wasserstrom, in his essay, “Is Adultery Immoral?,” calls attention to the great error of recent philosophical literature: The focus of arguments against such things as homosexuality, adultery, and prostitution is scarcely on whether or not the act is immoral; instead, it is simply taken for granted that it is, and the discussion proceeds to argue for the legality of the act in question on the basis of its presumed immorality (59). This implies a certain closed-mindedness about our society’s approach to ethics. If something may be declared immoral arbitrarily, or because of its taboo, non-majority status, then does this not indicate a fundamental failure in society’s ethical process? A willingness to rethink issues, solve problems in creative new ways, and be open-minded is certainly the groundwork for any mindful, moral individual. To assign the status of sin to any act initially perceived as existing outside the social norm is to fail to think ethically, because it blatantly ignores the role of reason.

But what of the arguments that homosexuality is absolutely wrong, no matter its perceived merits? Can reason be used to conclude that homosexual relationships are immoral? When Kantian ethics—which is heavily rooted in the presumption of certain moral absolutes—is used as an approach to the issue of whether or not homosexuality is immoral, its core ideas are rendered extreme, impractical, and unjust, from a realistically modern, humanitarian perspective. Under Kant’s formula of the categorical imperative, one can reason that homosexuality is immoral because its implications would point to the utter, eventual extinction of the human race. If homosexuality was made universal law, going along with the categorical imperative’s template for moral reasoning, then (presumably, since homosexuality by definition implies an attraction only toward members of the same sex) no heterosexual relationships would hypothetically occur. Under this extrapolation, humanity would cease to procreate, and the species would eventually die off entirely, unless some miraculous evolutionary mutation occurred that enabled females to reproduce by parthenogenesis. Because no one would readily submit their favor to the annihilation of the human race over the uniformity of sexual preference, then homosexuality can be deemed immoral under Kantian ethics. However, this illustrates the logical flaws in Kant’s premise: If reason is so greatly valued simply because it is within human capacity, why, then, would homosexuality not be valued by the same rationale? Would it not be another of God’s many unique gifts to be cherished? Similarly, if morality is governed by reason, which implies the ability to make rational, mindful choices by exercising free will, then how is homosexuality truly a moral issue, as moral thinkers claim it to be? It is a biological impulse, the way hunger, thirst, or a desire for survival—or even intellectual thought, creativity, or emotion—exists within every capable human being. Sexual preference is a matter of genetic determinants, much like the human capacity for intellect or a particular predisposition to a given talent or skill. It is not, in accordance with the natural processes by which the human capacity for reason is fostered, a choice at all, and is therefore an example of how Kantian ethics fails to successfully guide one to absolute moral truth regarding homosexuality.

Of course, one might reach a radically different conclusion about homosexuality if one takes a utilitarian approach to the moral question. In many respects, utilitarianism is the opposite of Kantian ethics; it leaves no room for moral absolutes, and almost anything can be deemed permissible if done so for the sake of generating optimal happiness in the affected parties. Rachels describes utilitarianism as the conception of morality put forth by Jeremy Bentham, which states that morality is simply a matter of following the Principle of Utility; that in all instances, we ought to do only that which produces the most happiness possible (97). The value of happiness as the ultimate goal of the moral individual is questionable, to say the least—but happiness is certainly a valuable component of the fulfilling, moral life. Hedonism need not be the only path toward granting homosexuality society’s tolerance (or, if true justice may be achieved, society’s blessing); however, the popularity of the utilitarian conception of ethics certainly raises further moral dissonance regarding homosexuality. It is difficult to conceive of a world in which allowing homosexuality would not generate more happiness than existed previously. If one is to perform the calculus of utilitarianism with the hope of declaring the morality of homosexuality, one must take into account which portions of society will truly be affected. Those individuals who face discrimination on a daily basis simply because of their status as gay, lesbian, or bisexual would be the most obvious variable. While such individuals are a minority among society, they are certainly the ones with the most to be gained from either the legalization of gay marriage or the Church’s blessing of homosexual lifestyles. Heterosexual or celibate individuals, on the other hand, have no concrete stake in the matter; any loss or prevention of happiness in such persons would be purely superficial—a slight moral disapproval, a mere revulsion toward the alien “other”; perhaps a loss of faith in the religion or judicial system that deemed homosexuality to be morally permissible. Ultimately, one would be ill-suited to argue against the morality of homosexual relationships from a utilitarian perspective.

The debate regarding homosexuality and its morality will likely persist for years to come. If it is proven to be yet another instance of illogical discrimination, like so many similar social problems throughout our imperfect world, then perhaps there is hope for the liberty of gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered individuals. If society begins to acknowledge the role various sexual relationships play in our society, as Turner suggests in Sex, Money & Power, then we may eventually see a societal openness regarding sex develop that would doubtless generate an atmosphere more accepting to alternative sexual lifestyles. Society at large, however, is not necessarily homosexuality’s greatest opponent. One may reason that it is the Church, so heavily steeped in ancient tradition, that is the final obstruction to the liberty of non-heterosexual lifestyles; and that it is, ironically, the Church who might potentially benefit the most from the acceptance and blessing of alternative sexual relationships.

Works Cited

Adler, Mortimer J. Desires: Right & Wrong. New York: Macmillan, 1991. Print.

Ficino, Marsilio. “Speech I.” Commentary on Plato’s Symposium on Love. Ed. Sears Jayne. Dallas: Spring, 1985. 45-69. Print.

Portmann, John. “The Half-Life of Sin.” In Defense of Sin. Ed. John Portmann. New York: St. Martin’s, 2001. 1-11. Print.

Rachels, James. The Elements of Moral Philosophy. Ed. Stuart Rachels. 6th ed. Boston: McGraw-Hill, 2003. Print.

Turner, Philip. “Revisionist Sex.” Sex, Money & Power: An Essay in Christian Social Ethics. Cambridge: Cowley, 1985. 29-44. Print.

Wasserstrom, Richard. “Is Adultury Immoral?” In Defense of Sin. Ed. John Portmann. New York: St. Martin’s, 2001. 59-76. Print.

The rise of Feminist thinking in the twentieth century brought a great deal of subjects under careful scrutiny, and philosophy was no exception. Given that the previous eras of intellectual thought were guided by the ideas and writings of men, women in the contemporary era are rightfully wary of accepting a structure of society and philosophical thinking that has been dominated for millennia by the opposite sex. Rachels implies that the ethics of care is, in large part, a reactionary rejection of ethical reasoning that stems from the principle- and reason-dominated methodology of ethics. Female intellectuals instead propose that men and women conceivably understand and approach various issues in different ways, and therefore assert that one view is neither better nor worse than the other — simply different, and equally important if one is to fairly credit the thinking of both sexes (146-57).

Early philosophical thinking was largely founded on the writings of Aristotle (and of course Plato and Socrates, from whom Aristotle developed his ideas), who declared women to be of inferior rational capacity (146). To have such a great, endeared thinker make this claim doubtless both reinforced and perpetuated the fallacy for many centuries. The intellectual failure of philosophers throughout the ages, then, is not necessarily that they spread the ideas of Aristotle and built upon them — indeed, most would agree his ideas were profound, given their time of origin — but that no one had the courage to question this assumption of female capacity for intellect. Not until women gained any modicum of equal human rights or power did this claim finally fall under critical examination. It is inexcusable that no male figurehead of intellectual thought made an effort to disprove this falsehood. One might ask, then: Was Aristotle right?

Doubtful. Most would argue that he was simply conforming to the deeply-conditioned social hierarchy long established at the time he lived. It is, however, a philosophical failure worth pondering; if Aristotle possessed such profound vision and reason, why did he not attempt to argue this point? According to Rachels, Carol Gilligan proposed the idea that men construct their ethical thinking on the basis of firm, unquestionable principles, which are better suited for constructing concrete, logical arguments in favor of dealing a particular judgment. Women, on the other hand, have a greater concern for the small details of a given situation, which “give [it] its special flavor” (149). This observation is perhaps the most valuable insight into the value of care-based ethics. First of all, it comes from a woman, so therefore the claim of female thinking is coming from the source, rather than being an unfounded claim like Aristotle’s proposition. Moreover, it provides a basic framework for evaluating the two different viewpoints. Rather than seeing male and female thinking as in opposition, one can recognize that they both offer different valuable ways to approach the same issue. If one makes the essentialist argument for men and women having intellectual differences of any kind, then it might be acceptable by using Gilligan’s observation as a starting point. In other words, the biology of women lends itself to an eye for detail, whereas male biology has some sort of masculine tendency toward concrete, absolute methods of thinking.

If this sort of thing is true, and biology plays a greater role than social conditioning in the different thinking of men and women, then this poses a useful question: Why is there a difference? Well, of course, nature is full of wondrous engineering. Little in the course of evolution happens through triviality; it all serves a purpose. The difference, then, is most likely to capacitate a full, multifaceted approach to thinking. While women might have one concern, men can offer another — and this makes for better reasoning.

Almost all theories of moral, ethical, or philosophical thinking is proposed in pursuit of a common goal: creating a better quality of human existence. What, then, is a philosophy of ethics with no regard for the idea of care? If humanity exists solely on the basis of systematic thinking and firm principles, then where is the regard for human life, comfort, happiness? A system of principles that interact with one another on the basis of interconnected ideas, concepts, and procedure seems to lack any truly human qualities at all. In fact, such a world sounds more akin to a machine than a civilization. No society would exist without the individual, and certainly all who might serve to damage or bring the collapse of society are examples of neglectful treatment. Care, one might reason, is what holds one individual firmly in place within the greater framework of society. Without love, happiness, or quality relationships, that individual would seem a sorrowful, purposeless — perhaps even threatening — component of the larger society.

In The Elements of Moral Philosophy, Rachels defines Cultural Relativism as the concept in which moral truth varies from culture to culture, and the idea that one moral code exists is a myth (16). According to ethical subjectivism, this means that judging one’s culture to be correct, or another culture to be incorrect, is merely a reflection of bias or attitude. In other words, each culture is different, but in accord with the theory of Cultural Relativism, each culture is also correct in its beliefs simply because moral beliefs are entirely subjective.

The lure of Cultural Relativism is strong, because certain facets of it do ring true; and also because it puts an end to certain controversial discussions about which coming to a moral conclusion occasionally seems impossible. The greatest value of Cultural Relativism is perhaps that it warns against the assumption of one culture’s beliefs having stemmed from rational thinking or some universal truth—in almost every case, a social practice is done merely for the sake of tradition, and little else (29). Another important aspect of the theory is that it leads people to question their own individual beliefs about morality—opinions born of upbringing or perpetuated dogma, in many cases—which is a good thing. Acknowledging the importance of keeping an open mind about beliefs and practices is another appealing aspect of the theory (30). The theory is not without fault, however, in a world that’s evolving on the social level as rapidly as ours is at present—a world that is placing an unprecedented level of emphasis on a global economy, instantaneous communication via the ever-evolving realm of cyberspace, and the spread of new sociopolitical ideas.

As nationalism spirals toward obsolescence and the continents of the world grow ever more connected via the Internet and other satellite telecomm technology, the need for a sense of patriotism and ethnocentrism toward one’s own country begins to wane a great deal. In a world where immigration is a necessity for some to manage a decent livelihood, cultures cross-pollinate in a rapid fashion—and thereby rendering the differences between cultures less and less apparent. In fact, such interpenetration between cultures illuminates that much is shared by all cultures.

With a rise in technological and economical advancement, individual nations become more and more active within the global economy—and the opportunities for growth and social mobility become more readily available. Individuals become more confident in their own capabilities, and resultantly less bound by their own society’s standards—in the age of technology, cyberspace, and media-stoked social justice, individuality prospers more and more. Eventually, if the trend continues, cultural standards with little more than ancient tradition to support their continuation can be reasonably predicted to eventually fade. In the wake of vast advances in the medical field, for instance, less and less couples are compelled to baptize their newborn children. Where there is a purpose to be served, a single means is used to go about it—until an arguably more reliable means comes along to replace it.

While a fairly utopian idea, obviously, it’s not unreasonable to assume that the current patterns of individualism and cultural cross-pollination will continue. As this occurs, it is observable that media-fueled controversies over ethical matters will only heighten—but perhaps this is a good thing. Such strife brings about action, discussion, and inevitably change. And in a world where rapid change is occurring constantly, often going unnoticed beneath the layers upon layers of interconnected technology and evolving social dynamics, positive ethical change seems a logical goal to work toward. While cultures scarcely agree, it is certainly true that each culture has its own set of ideas to share. Through our globalizing world, and the advance of human capability, the best ideas shall rightfully rise to the surface while the unnecessary or illogical ones fade away. As long as the current sociopolitical climate does not spark another dark age, it is a reasonable hope that global civilization will only grow to be more and more understanding of the ethical truths that might have once seemed far from humanity’s grasp.

Throughout the animal kingdom, there are numerous observable patterns that nature embraces, presumably through a genetically developed instinct, which serve to organize a given species into an efficient social machine. Human beings, no matter how extraordinary we may suppose ourselves to be, are scarcely different from our less arrogant neighbors upon this planet. It is of great interest to me, personally, to understand the underlying drives of humanity — and how they may explain the morals within any given society that are either universal or regional. The mechanisms of evolution and the life it fosters are so intricate that they are difficult to properly understand. Many of the problems posed by philosophical disagreement stem from the fact that, as intellectual beings, we seek answers and rationalization for an existence that may be in reality farr more simple than we wish to admit. Part of my own personal interest in philosophy, and ethics specifically, is to understand which contemporary humanistic ideals serve our underlying sense of purpose, and which are, in fact, antiquated social constructs.

For instance, one of the major issues that plagues the intellectual world is the controversy of population control. The planet is a vast landmass, full of potential for life, but how much of it is truly meant for the human empire? Is there a plan for humanity in regard to our role on this world at all? Social Darwinism might lead us to the idea that cities built beneath the waters of our oceans, or floating upon their surfaces, would give us a greater amount of space, and therefore justifies building such habitats. What of the effects on the rest of the biosphere, though? Would that not destroy creatures of lesser resourcefulness? Would the building of an ecumenopolis not disrupt and devastate the natural order of the planet? Perhaps the question is not really whether or not humanity should attempt such grandiose undertakings, but rather whether or not we could do so. If nature, in all her complexity, has managed to foster such sophisticated life-forms as human beings, then who is to argue that the Earth might not react by thwarting our ambitious efforts with extinction?

The so-called “rights” of life, which are so greatly emphasized within human civilization, are most often attributed as a natural given; this world is deemed by modern thinkers to be one of inherent liberty. Why, then, are animals — regardless of strength or number — not granted by our kind the same level of deference? Who truly believes that humankind is some divine irregularity of the universe, a sole race of great beings destined to bear the burden of sentience and an underutilized capacity for reason? I generally find myself ashamed of the arrogance and lack of vision that humanity employs in times of hardship, change, and conflict. We find it within our grasp to impose and enforce laws governing the global parameters of warfare, and yet we cannot even come within a reasonable distance of finding peace? Is there no end to competition, to the brutality that lies buried deep within the darkest depths of our animalistic ids? It often seems that war, destruction, emotional blindness, and greed threaten to ravage our species for all eternity. Where, I ask, is the purpose in that?