Would conscious AI also cling to its sense of self?

 I began thinking about the question posed above after reading Michael Pollan’s recently published book, A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness.

We do not yet know whether AI will develop a sense of self. We can be confident, however, that if an AI system does develop a sense of self, it will be because it serves a useful purpose for that system. That suggests to me that any intelligent system that has evolved to have a sense of self is likely to have good reasons to cling to it. I refer to AI to invite readers to ponder the motivations that humans have to cling to their individual identity rather than seeking to dissolve it or escape from it.

To set the scene for subsequent discussion I will provide a brief description of the book before focusing on the author’s discussion of scientific research into building AI with conscious feelings and his personal experience of self-transcendence via meditation.

Michael Pollan’s book

Michael Pollan is a science writer with a background in the humanities. He is the author of several books on topics related to science, philosophy and culture. In the introductory chapter, he tells us that his main qualification for writing the book is that he is a conscious human being who has become intensely curious about that fact.

A World Appears explores four different dimensions of consciousness – sentience, feelings, thought, and self. The author’s discussion on sentience focuses on the question of whether plants are sentient, suggesting that the idea should be taken seriously. The chapter on feelings encompasses discussion of research into building AI that might develop feelings. The chapter on thought discusses the contents flowing through consciousness and leans heavily on the work of philosophers and novelists. The chapter on self acknowledges the emergence of a sense of self as “perhaps the apotheosis of consciousness in humans” before entertaining the idea that it is an illusion.

The author tells us the story of his visits to scientists and philosophers who have been thinking about consciousness. That makes the book an interesting and painless way to obtain knowledge of developments in this field.

Feeling machines

One of the most interesting topics covered in the book is the account of the efforts of Mark Solms and Karl Friston to build a machine that has feelings. They focus on feelings, because feelings are necessarily conscious – it is not possible to have a feeling that you cannot feel.

Solms was a protégé of Antonio Damasio, a renowned neurologist, but while Damasio treats homeostasis – the self-regulating process - as a purely biological phenomenon, Solms and Friston believe that it applies to all self-organizing systems. For Friston and Solms, minds are in the business of maintaining homeostasis by reducing uncertainty which jeopardizes their survival. They believe that uncertainty generates conscious feelings in self-organizing systems - consciousness is felt uncertainty. When uncertainty arises, the system relies on feelings to seize our conscious attention and then guide our decision-making.

Solms and his team have constructed an AI model which has homeostatic needs – hunger, thirst and a need to rest. The algorithm samples its simulated environment to construct a model of its world which it relies on to make predictions that help guide its survival choices. The researchers believe that they have forced the “agent” to deal with uncertainty and have thus laid the groundwork for feelings to emerge.

The researchers plan to confront the “agent” with increasingly complex situations which it will learn to navigate. At some stage it will be confronted with misleading hedonic rewards - the opportunity to experience positive feelings which are harmful to its survival. If the “agent” chooses those rewards, Solms will take that as a sign that it has feelings because its actions will be based on feelings rather than reason or self-interest (just like a human taking harmful drugs).

From other sources, I have the impression that the researchers believe that a breakthrough to artificial consciousness may be quite close. At that point, however, they will still have some difficulty in persuading sceptics that their computer model is actually conscious.

 As I was reading about these efforts to build a machine with feelings, I was thinking that the underlying theory has elements in common with Richard Campell’s philosophical contribution in The Metaphysics of Emergence. I have previously written about Campbell’s book here, and here.

I have been unable to find any evidence that Solms had drawn upon Campbell’s philosophy, so I decided to ask Grok:

Can the empirical work of Mark Solms on consciousness be viewed as a test of the systems view of emergence advocated by the philosopher, Richard Campbell?

Here is an abridged version of Grok’s response:

“Yes, Mark Solms’ empirical work on consciousness can reasonably be viewed as a test (or, more precisely, a concrete empirical case study that supports or challenges) the systems/process-oriented view of emergence developed by philosopher Richard Campbell. This interpretation arises from a natural alignment between Campbell’s metaphysical framework and the mechanistic, systems-level account Solms provides, even though the two thinkers do not appear to reference each other directly.  

In The Metaphysics of Emergence (2015), Campbell argues that traditional substance metaphysics (treating reality as fixed entities with intrinsic properties) makes emergence mysterious and irreducible in an inexplicable way. He replaces it with process metaphysics, in which the primary existents are generic processes organised into dynamic systems.  

Solms (neuropsychologist and psychoanalyst) has built an influential body of clinical and theoretical work which locates the “hidden spring” of consciousness not in the cerebral cortex (the usual assumption) but in upper-brainstem structures. Consciousness is fundamentally affective—raw feelings of pleasure/unpleasure that register homeostatic deviations (needs, prediction errors). The cortex adds sophisticated content but is not required for the existence of consciousness itself.

Solms’ account maps almost directly onto Campbell’s criteria for emergence in process-systems:

•  The brain (especially brainstem networks) is treated as an open, far-from-equilibrium process-system engaged in recursive self-maintenance via homeostasis.

•  Consciousness (affective subjectivity) is a novel, system-level property arising from non-linear organisation of lower-level neural processes; it is not reducible to the parts (individual neurons or circuits lack feelings) yet is mechanistically explained by their relational dynamics.

•  The free-energy principle supplies the physics-level grounding Campbell invokes (quantum-field/thermodynamic processes organised into living systems).

•  Empirical predictions are testable and have been tested: brainstem lesions eliminate consciousness (falsifying cortical-centric views), while the model explains clinical phenomena (dreaming, blindsight with preserved affect, etc.) without eliminating the “hard problem” (subjectivity remains real and emergent).

If Solms’ model is empirically robust (and it has gained significant traction in neuropsychology and consciousness studies), it provides positive evidence that emergence of the kind Campbell describes actually occurs in the most complex biological system we know—the human brain. It shows how a higher-level property (felt consciousness) can arise irreducibly yet intelligibly from process organisation, exactly as Campbell’s metaphysics predicts. Failures or inconsistencies in Solms’ data (e.g., if cortical mechanisms proved sufficient after all) would conversely pressure Campbell’s framework.

Thus, while not a direct “falsification test” in the Popperian sense (metaphysics is broader), Solms’ neuroscience functions as a real-world empirical probe of Campbell’s systems view: it demonstrates that treating consciousness as an emergent feature of biological process-systems is not only philosophically coherent but scientifically productive. This alignment makes the interpretation not only possible but illuminating for both fields.”

I am impressed by the ability of this (unconscious) LLM to respond to questions such as the one I asked. It would be understandable, however, if some readers think that I have a favourable view of Grok in this instance because its reasoning supports my own beliefs. If you want to explore these ideas more fully, please consult other sources which may offer differing opinions.  

Why attempt to transcend self?

Of the various theories of self that Michael Pollan discusses, the one by Anil Seth seems most compatible with the approach adopted by Marc Solms. Like Damasio and Solms, Seth grounds his thinking about consciousness firmly in homeostasis. Seth suggests that “the self is not the thing that is perceiving; it is itself a kind of perception” constructed in the brain. Under this theory a feeling is the brain’s interpretation of a change in the state of the body. Consciousness evolved to help keep us alive by monitoring changes in the body.

Pollan comments:

“Afterward, thinking back on all that Seth had told me, I decided that I could travel only so far with ideas of the brain’s “predictions” and “inferences” and “hallucinations.” It all made sense until I tried to translate those abstractions into felt experience. Who is the subject of these mental operations?”

He goes on to note:

“The way I see it, there is an unbridgeable gap between the brain’s operations as a prediction machine and my felt experience of the resulting hallucination. How can you have a hallucination without a hallucinator?”

That is a good question to ask, but one can also ask why one should view consciousness of self as an hallucination or illusion. Indeed, Pollan also mentions that Christof Koch, a neuroscientist, has pointed out that it makes no sense to call consciousness an illusion, for what is an illusion but a conscious experience.

More fundamentally, it seems to me that one of the few things that we can all be certain of is our own existence. Another thing that we can all be certain of is that we are thinking beings. I cannot claim those ideas are original. Indeed, it seems to me that it requires considerable (unnecessary) intellectual effort to contemplate the possibility that one’s awareness of one’s own existence could be an illusion. I have discussed why I am certain of my own existence in the preceding essay entitled, “Who are you?”

Pollan struggles to reconcile how it is possible for humans to be conscious observers of themselves if consciousness is a product of biological processes. Towards the end of the book, he writes:

“I’m abashed to say I know less now than I did when, naively, I set out to unravel the mystery of consciousness. But then, most of what I thought I knew or took for granted, like the assumption that consciousness is a product of our brains and materialism will eventually explain everything, turned out to be unproven or wrong.”

During his journey, the author asks interesting questions. Early in his chapter on the self, he asks:

“Why do we cling to the idea of a self, placing great value on self-confidence and self-esteem, while simultaneously spending so much effort on self-transcendence, whether through meditation or psychedelics or experiences of art, awe, and flow? Some of the most powerful experiences in life hinge on the dissolution of the self and the broad horizons of meaning that open only after it has been chased from the scene.”

That question remains unanswered in his book. The book ends with the author describing his efforts to transcend his sense of self by spending time meditating in a cave. He seems to end up viewing consciousness as an activity:

“My time in the cave had shown me another way to look at consciousness: less as a scientific or philosophical puzzle to be solved and more as a practice, a way to once again be altogether here, present to life and to this vault of stars.”

Personal reflections

 It seems to me that Michael Pollan’s book ends up in a good place, with him being absorbed in conscious awareness of his environment. I have previously recognised the value of that kind of experience in discussing Scott Barry Kaufman’s book, Transcend, 2020. The transcending experiences that Kaufman refers to incorporates a continuum of experiences ranging from becoming engrossed in a book, sports performance, or creative activity (what psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi refers to as the flow experience), to experiencing meditation, feeling gratitude for an act of kindness, experiencing awe at a beautiful sunset etc., all the way up to the great mystical illumination. He suggests that transcendence “allows for  the highest levels of unity and harmony within oneself and with the world” (See: Freedom, Progress, and Human Flourishing, p. 171).

The experience of unity and harmony within oneself seems to me to be the opposite of attempting to escape from uncomfortable feelings. When people develop a habit of attempting to escape from uncomfortable feelings by using alcohol, drugs, social media etc. they tend to become caught up in a “happiness trap”. I wrote about that here.

It is worth highlighting that the idea of experiencing unity and harmony within oneself still entails the existence of an observer. When I experience transcendence, I forget about the image I present to the world, but I am present as an observer of my own experience.

Pollan asked why we cling to the idea of a self. The obvious answer is that we cling to the idea because it serves useful purposes.

As Richard Campbell explains in The Metaphysics of Emergence, “our consciousness of both ourselves and the world we live in is now irrevocably shaped by cultural and institutional influences, and that influences how our brains function” (pp. 288-9). He suggests: “The first-person standpoint, which is inextricably linked to self-reflection, is an important aspect of human experience, not a theoretical construct” (p. 291). He goes on to note that the human capacity to understand the perceptions of others – to put oneself in their shoes – requires “the exercise of reflective consciousness, and involves more than expressions of our subjective attitudes, desires, and preferences” (p.113). That is what Campbell mean by “transcending subjectivity” in the passage quoted in the epigraph.

Cambell develops an argument along Aristotelian lines that eudaimonia, rather than mere survival, is the ultimate good of a human being. He links personal identity to the exercise of practical wisdom in the process of individual flourishing:

“We are recursively self-maintenant social beings with reflective consciousness, able to create and explore a vast repository of collective knowledge, and with capacities for empathy, practical wisdom, for whom the good life is one of maturity and flourishing” (p. 307).

Conclusion

I asked whether conscious AI would seek to cling to its sense of self to invite readers to ponder the motivations that individual humans have to cling to their sense of self. My answer is that intelligent systems tend to cling to a sense of self because a first-person perspective evolves to serve useful purposes.

The essay was prompted by my reading of Michael Pollan’s recently published book, A World Appears.

My focus has been on chapters in this book discussing research into building AI that might develop feelings and the chapter on the concept of self.

In my discussion of these topics, I have emphasized the relevance of the ideas of the philosopher, Richard Campell, in his book, The Metaphysics of Emergence.

Who are you?

 The following essay is an edited transcript of a podcast episode I released a few years ago. I have decided to publish the transcript in essay form because I want to refer to it in a subsequent essay. It is easier to find particular words and paragraphs in an essay than in a podcast. Besides, when I listened to that podcast episode again, I decided that the sound of my voice distracted from the ideas I was presenting. 

My main qualification for talking about personal identity is that I have been around for long enough to have thought quite a lot about my own identity. I hope that what I have to say will interest other people. In any case, writing this podcast script should also help me to remember what I have learned about myself.

Rather than meander through the circuitous history of my thinking, I will focus here on what I now consider to be a sensible approach to the topic. I will begin by discussing the most superficial aspects of personal identity and will end up considering whether your identity would be retained if your consciousness was uploaded into a machine. Along the way, I will touch upon a range of other issues that might be of interest:

·       Is your identity defined by personal information about you?

·       Does your life-story define who you are?

·       How can aspects of your identity change over time?

·       Is the essence of your identity located in your conscious mind?

·       Where did Descartes go wrong in asserting “I think, therefore I am”?

·       What kind of being are you?

·       How does self-direction fit in to your identity?

Let us begin.

Is your identity defined by personal information about you? 

Your passport has information about your name, nationality, date of birth and sex. It also shows a photo that looks something like you. Other government documents may include additional information such as your place of residence.

If you wanted to tell me who you are, you might provide further information such as your occupation, marital status, whether you have had children and how many, ethnicity, religion, political views, education level, schools attended, employment history, the places you have lived in the past, your hobbies, books you have read, sports you have played or enjoy watching, movies you liked, and other entertainment preferences.

A person with all that information would know a lot about you. They might be well placed to predict how a person like you might spend money or vote, but they would have only a superficial view of who you are as an individual.

Does your life-story define who you are?

Your own understanding of who you are probably includes a narrative covering important events in your life, a view about important things you have learned from life, your personal values, and how you came to hold those values.

So, if you were to write an autobiography covering all those aspects, would that encapsulate a comprehensive understanding of your identity? I doubt it. If you are anything like me, a few days after you finished writing the book you would think of something important that you wanted to add.

What I am suggesting is that even though we know more about ourselves than anyone else can possibly know about us, our self-knowledge is never perfect. As you go through life, you may discover more about who you are, and some aspects of your identity may change.

How can aspects of your identity change over time?

Let us assume for the moment that the concept of identity implies the existence of an unchangeable essence at the core of who you are. I will consider the validity of that assumption later, but I first want to discuss how some aspects of your identity can change.

It is obvious that there are various ways in which the information in your passport and other identity documents can be changed. I will focus on how more fundamental aspects of identity, such as character traits, may change over time.

It may be possible for your character to change as a consequence of changes in the social and economic environment in which you live. People do tend to respond to incentives. For example, if the social and economic environment rewards cooperation for mutual benefit, that provides an incentive for people to develop habits of trustworthy behavior that will enable them to participate more fully in those benefits. The opposite happens if the social and economic environment rewards predatory activity.

However, that does not mean that your identity is “socially constructed”. The social and economic environment affects the incentives you face, but you can still choose how to respond to those incentives. People often think carefully before responding to incentives. And they sometimes choose to respond differently than they have in the past. The behavioralist assumption that people respond automatically to stimuli is a distorted view of human nature.

Individuals can also choose to change their behavior in ways that change their identity. You may discover that you have an aptitude to do something – for example, to assist other people to learn – and some aspects of your identity may change as you acquire skill in doing that.

It is even possible for people to discover that they have potential to change their personality to some extent. Traits such as extroversion, conscientiousness, agreeableness, and emotional stability tend to be fairly stable in adults, but some research suggests that people can even change such traits if they make active efforts to do so. We discover our potential as we actualize it. There is some discussion of that process in Chapter 8 of my book, Freedom, Progress, and Human Flourishing.

If fundamental aspects of your personality can change over time, that raises the question of where we should look if we want to find an unchangeable essence at the core of your being.

Is the essence of your identity located in your conscious mind?

In his book Thinking Fast and Slow Daniel Kahneman, a psychologist, suggests that the system in the mind that makes judgements and choices is “who we think we are” (Kahneman 2011, loc. 7547/9800). He is probably correct that most people tend to identify themselves with that system.

However, I argue in Freedom, Progress, and Human Flourishing, that people are making a cognitive error when they identify themselves in that way (Bates 2021, p.140).

In order to explain why, I need to explain the two systems in the mind that Kahneman employs in his discussion. System 1 engages in intuitive thinking (fast thinking) and tends to produce quick answers to complex questions. It operates with little effort and no sense of voluntary control. System 2 allocates attention to the effortful mental activities that demand it. Kahneman suggests that System 2 is who we think we are (Kahneman 2011, loc. 7547-7556/9800).

When I first read about Kahneman’s System 1 and System 2 several years ago, I saw parallels with the concept of Self 1 and Self 2 developed by Timothy Gallwey, a sports and business coach and author of popular ‘inner game’ books (Gallwey 1986, pp. 18-19). Gallwey observed that when he was playing tennis, he seemed to have two identities: Self 2 was playing tennis and Self 1 was constantly interfering by telling him how to play. It struck me that Gallwey’s Self 1 might correspond to Kahneman’s System 2 and that Gallwey’s Self 2 might correspond to Kahneman’s System 1.

The point I want to make is that it is not possible to judge whether it is more appropriate to identify with System 1 or System 2 without considering the nature of the activity that you are engaged in at a particular time. If you are playing sport, it often pays to identify as a fast thinker, responding intuitively and ignoring the unhelpful advice of the inner coach who is warning you to think carefully to avoid making an error.

If you are making a career choice, it makes sense to identify yourself as a person who thinks carefully about important decisions.

Should we view the system that makes judgements and choices as some kind of inner philosopher who thinks dispassionately? There was a time when I thought that. However, I had to ditch that idea after I read Antonio Damasio’s book Descartes Error. Damasio, a neurologist, pointed out that when people suffer brain damage that causes loss of most of their emotional lives, they are unable to make simple decisions even if their reasoning and logical abilities are intact (Damasio 1994, p.78).

In his book, The Happiness Hypothesis, Jonathan Haidt argues that “Reason and emotion must both work together to create intelligent behavior, but emotion ... does most of the work”. He presents a useful metaphor - an elephant and its rider - to explain the relationship between the controlled and automatic systems that determine human behavior. Haidt writes:

“The controlled system ... is better seen as an advisor. It’s a rider placed on the elephant’s back to help the elephant make better choices. The rider can see further into the future, and the rider can learn valuable information by talking to other riders or by reading maps, but the rider cannot order the elephant around against its will. ... The elephant and the rider each have their own intelligence, and when they work together well they enable the unique brilliance of human beings” (Haidt 2006, p 160).

Haidt is inviting us to identify ourselves as both rider and elephant.

That seems to me to make more sense than to identify myself only with the rider, or the system in my mind that makes effortful judgements and choices. When I exercise my cognitive abilities in non-judgmental observation of bodily sensations and ideas floating past, I identify with a natural self that embodies instinct and emotion as well as reason, and all the inherent potential that individual humans are born with. I invite you to engage in similar meditative practices to see if you come to the same conclusion.

That might be a good point to end on. However, many of you will be reluctant to trust your meditative insights unless you can be persuaded that there is a philosophically respectable basis for them.

We should not even view the meditative insights of prominent philosophers as being beyond question. The philosopher I have in mind is René Descartes, who claimed “I think, therefore I am” in the 17^th century, after he had engaged in a meditative process.

Where did Descartes go wrong?

Descartes reached his conclusion, “I think therefore I am”, after going through a process of considering what sources of knowledge could not be doubted, and discovering that he could not doubt that he was thinking.

I have already mentioned Antonio Damasio’s book, Descartes Error. What does Damasio see as the source of Descartes’ error? Damasio makes the point that beings existed before long before the evolution of humans who are aware that they are thinking (Damasio 1994, pp. 248-9).

In his book, The Metaphysics of Emergence, Richard Campbell suggests that Descartes was on the right track in observing that he was unable to doubt that he was thinking. Campbell suggest that the error arose when Descartes asked himself, “What then am I?” That question “presupposes that he takes himself to be some sort of thing” (Campbell 2015, pp.282-3). Campbell suggests that Descartes question immediately entrapped him in the traditional metaphysics of entities.

At this point I must explain why Cambell considers it to be problematic to consider oneself as an entity rather than as a process.

What kind of being are you?

You observe that you are thinking, and conclude that you are a thinking being. You also observe that you are a being that has a body, and that you experience sensations and emotions.

It appears obvious that you are an entity that has all those qualities. But you are also the observer engaged in self-reflection. You can engage in radical reflexivity as you observe the thoughts passing through your own mind.

However, if you are an entity, how can you be both the observer and the being that you are observing? Could you be two entities? I don’t think so. The observer, who is you, does not exist independently of the being who is observed, who is also you.

Richard Campbell suggests a way out of this dilemma. Drop the assumption that you are a fixed, given entity. The alternative he suggests is to perceive yourself as a complex process system. That enables you to perceive of radical reflexivity as a process. He writes:

“If the assumption that there is a fixed, given entity called ‘the self’ …  is rejected, the way is open to understand consciousness as a flow: a complex, emergent and interactive process which is radically reflexive” (Campbell 2015, p.292).

Our observations of the world tell us that many other animals are also aware of their surroundings. We have no problem in understanding that their awareness emerged or evolved to help them to survive and reproduce. Our human consciousness is just another step in that evolutionary process. Radical reflexivity - awareness of our own awareness - has emerged to help us to flourish as individuals in the cultures in which we live.

Campbell suggests that the flow of consciousness is analogous to a river maintaining its identity as it flows though different places. Your understanding of who you are is informed by the flow of your consciousness through time. In other words, your sense of identity is informed by your autobiographical memories. Campbell explains that this sense of identity also involves an element of projection into the future:

“I am a complex process system continually projecting myself out of my past into my future, my sense of myself necessarily involves my ‘has been’ and my ‘not yet’ (Campbell 2015, p.292).

As you think about your “not yet”, you might imagine a future that is different than your past. Perhaps that is just wishful thinking. Or you might be considering options available to change your life in various ways, or how to achieve a vision that you have for your own future. That brings me to the concept of self-direction.

How does self-direction fit into your identity?

As explained in Freedom, Progress, and Human Flourishing, I subscribe to the view that wise and well-informed self-direction is integral to the process of individual flourishing. The nature of humans is such that as individuals mature, they normally have the potential to exercise the practical wisdom and integrity required to direct their own flourishing in accordance with goals they choose and values they endorse.

However, wise and well-informed self-direction is not an attribute that is manifested by all adult humans. It is to some extent a product of the incentives in the social environment in which people live. When the social environment requires individuals to accept responsibility for the outcomes of the choices they make, they have a strong incentive to become wise and well-informed.

Acquisition of skills in self-direction is also a product of personal attitudes. Unfortunately, some people perceive that nothing they do will make any difference to their lives. Others, who have similar history, perceive the potential to improve their lives and often make inspiring efforts to so by investing in personal development.

In my personal experience, it is easier to avoid behaving like a grumpy old man when I remind myself to be the person that I have potential to become.

That brings me close to the end of what I have to say. However, before I sum up, I will keep my promise to talk about the question I said I would end on.

Would your identity be retained if your mind was uploaded into a machine?

Some neuroscientists think this might be feasible within a few decades. They point to scientific advances that suggest it might be possible, and say they are not aware of any laws of physics that would prevent it.

I am not qualified to have an informed view on the technical feasibility of mind uploading, so I will think of it merely as a thought experiment.

Imagine that your mind has been uploaded and you wake up with your memories intact in an environment that looks like the real world as you know it. Is this emulated mind actually you? As I see it, that is something that your emulated mind would have to decide for itself.

However, that does not prevent me from speculating how an emulated mind might perceive its own identity if separated from the body which it remembers as an integral component of the complex processing system from which it was derived. Perhaps the emulated mind might feel as though it is having a dream and is unable to wake up. It might feel more like a ghost than the natural self – the mind-body system – that it remembers as its former self.

It might identify as “the ghost in the machine”.

Summing up

I began by suggesting that personal information about you gives only a superficial view of who you are as an individual. Your life story might encapsulate all the important things that you know about yourself, but self-knowledge is never perfect. As you go through life, you may discover more about who you are.

Aspects of your identity may change over time. Your character might be influenced by changing incentives of the social and economic environment. And you may even change aspects of your personality to some extent, by choosing to develop new habits.

So, where is the essence of your being located? I argue that it is a mistake to think it is located solely in your conscious mind.

Descartes correctly observed that he was thinking, but in concluding “I think, therefore I am” he overlooked the fact that he had already assumed that he was some kind of being.

You are the kind of being that can observe itself. It is difficult to comprehend how you can be both an observer and the object of your observation if you think of yourself as an entity. Thinking of yourself as both observer and object poses no problem if you think of yourself as a complex processing system.

You cannot doubt that you think. You are aware of both the flow of inner experiences – thoughts and feelings – and of your experience of the world in which you live. Thinking about your experience of the world enables you to contemplate the goals you seek, to make choices in pursuit of those goals, and to learn from experience. Your sense of identity is informed both by autobiographical memories and by future projections.

If you accept that wise and well-informed self-direction is integral to your flourishing, you are likely to think of yourself as seeking to become the kind of person who has the practical wisdom and integrity to flourish in accordance with goals you choose and values you endorse.

I have speculated that if your mind was uploaded into a machine, the emulated mind would not perceive itself to be a real person with a body as well as a mind. It might remember you as its former self, but would see itself as being something like a ghost.

You understand who you are from the ongoing experience of your whole self, living in the real world. Walt Whitman captured that well in his poetry. I will leave you to contemplate a fragment from his poem, “A song of myself”:

“My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs,
The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and dark-color’d sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn,
The sound of the belch’d words of my voice loos’d to the eddies of the wind,
A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms,

The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag,
The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hill-sides,
The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun.”

 
References

Bates, Winton, Freedom, Progress, and Human Flourishing (Hamilton Books, 2021).

Campbell, Richard, The Metaphysics of Emergence (Palgrave Macmillan, 2015).

Gallwey, Timothy, The Inner Game of Tennis (Pan Books,1975).

Haidt, Jonathan, The Happiness Hypothesis (Basic Books, 2006).

 Kahneman, Daniel, Thinking Fast and Slow (Penguin, 2011).

 Whitman, Walt, Complete Works of Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, Book III ‘Song of Myself’. (The poem, ‘Song of Myself’, was first published in 1855 in the collection Leaves of Grass.)

Does human perfectibility pose a problem?

 

This essay was prompted by my reading of John Passmore’s book, The Perfectibility of Man, which was first published in 1969. 

I read the book mainly because of James M. Buchanan’s suggestion that “it remains the most definitive work on the history of ideas” relating to the extent to which classical liberalism depends on some presumption that man is perfectible. Buchanan made that suggestion at the beginning of a chapter entitled “Classical liberalism and the perfectibility of man”, in his book Why I, Too, Am Not a Conservative (2005). Buchanan argued that although classical liberalism does not depend on people being especially "good" in a conventional sense, there is nevertheless a presumption of human perfectibility in classical liberalism. He argued that classical liberalism requires that sufficient persons (i) prefer to govern themselves and not be dependent upon others; (ii) respect the person and property of others; (iii) eschew attempts to implement impractical visions of utopian perfectionism; and (iv) be willing to defend the political institutions of liberal society against its enemies.

I had another reason for reading The Perfectibility of Man. As an Australian interested in Aristotle’s view of human perfectibility, I felt that I should by now have read a book on this topic by a distinguished philosopher who was my compatriot.

The book was enjoyable to read and I learned a lot from it. However, I disagree with the author’s assessment of Aristotle’s application of teleology to individual flourishing. It seems to me that Passmore’s view that that “there is something more than a little strange” in “identifying perfection with the realization of potentialities” is not consistent with the view he expresses at the end of the book that humans “are capable of more than they have ever so far achieved”.

I will return to that point later in this essay. Meanwhile, I will briefly outline the scope and content of Passmore’s book.

Passmore’s history of ideas on perfectibility

Passmore discusses the long history of ideas about the perfectibility of humans from Ancient Greece and Rome to the 1960s. He discusses the differing views of Christians over the last 2000 years as well as views associated with the Renaissance, the Enlightenment, the influence of social action, scientific progress and natural evolution.

The following paragraph, referring to the views of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955), summarizes the themes of the book:

“To an extraordinary degree, then, Teilhard built into a single system almost all the main forms of perfectibilism which we have so far distinguished from one another. He was a mystic: perfection consists in union with God. He was a Christian: perfection depends on Christ’s working in man through evolution. He was a metaphysician: perfection consists in the development to its final form of that consciousness     which is present, according to Teilhard, even in elementary electrons. He believed in perfection through science: scientific research is, in his eyes, the prototype of “working with God.” He believed in perfection through social change: men are to be perfected through their participation in a society infused with love. He believed that Christianity shows us in what perfection consists: the New Testament, and especially Paul, reveal to us the nature of that final unity in which evolution must finally come to rest; the Incarnation, the sacrifice of the Mass, symbolize the unity of the material and the spiritual. He believed that science can demonstrate that humanity is moving towards such a perfection. He was Pelagian in his constant emphasis on human effort; he was anti-Pelagian in so far as he argued that God’s grace is essential if mankind is to achieve its final perfection. If Teilhard had not existed, it would almost have been necessary to invent him, in order to weave together our diverse themes.”

Towards the end of the book, it becomes obvious that Passmore is particularly concerned about the tyrannical outcomes of government attempts to implement utopian ideas relating to human perfectibility.

I will now turn to the point on which I disagree with Passmore.

Aristotle’s teleology

Passmore notes that, according to Aristotle, “potential is incomplete, formless, imperfect”. That implies “the actual is ‘perfect,’ then, in so far as it is the realization of, or the giving form to, a potentiality”. He then comments:

“But there is something more than a little strange in thus identifying perfection with the realization of potentialities. Suppose a man is potentially a liar. When he actualizes that potentiality, has he thereby perfected himself? At this point, it is important to recall that the general concept of perfection does not have written into it any suggestion of moral excellence. A man can be a perfect scoundrel or a perfect idiot just as he can be a perfect saint; he can commit a perfect crime, be a perfect forger, or have a “perfectly rotten time of it.” But, as we have already pointed out, when we speak of “perfectibility,” as distinct from perfection simpliciter, the situation is different; to assert that man is perfectible is to assert that he can become, in some sense taken to be absolute, a better person. To the extent to which an analysis of perfection is directed towards helping us to answer the question whether human beings are, or are not, perfectible, it must not allow the response: “they are perfectible all right: there are plenty of men who are potential villains and who actualize that potentiality perfectly.” (p.14)

It seems to me that Aristotle’s perception of individual human perfectibility does have a suggestion of moral excellence written into it. As Passmore acknowledges, Aristotle saw the good for man, as “an activity of soul in accordance with goodness”. In that context he notes that Aristotle argues that the human good consists in a life of contemplation.

However, Aristotle suggests in Book I of the Ethics that the good of man consists in our living in accordance with practical wisdom. In his book Rational Man - in which the passage quoted in the epigraph appears - Henry Veatch comes out strongly in support of the latter view.

Veatch explains that from an Aristotelian viewpoint, a person who is honest, courageous or temperate “will not be one who has merely been conditioned to follow unthinkingly certain approved patterns of behavior. He will be one who has learned to let his choices and preferences be determined by such knowledge and understanding as he may have, rather than to proceed simply from chance feelings and impulses of the moment or from long established but mechanical habits of response.” (p. 74-5)  

In his Preface to the 2003 edition of Rational Man, Douglas Rasmussen makes the point that “when Veatch spoke of how to “perfect” oneself, he did not mean that one should become Godlike, immune to degeneration, or incapable of harm. Rather it is to fulfil those potentialities and capacities that makes one fully human.”

Passmore’s bottom line

Passmore concludes that “perfectibilism is dehumanizing”:

“To achieve perfection in any of its classical senses, as so many perfectibilists have admitted, it would first be necessary to cease to be human, to become godlike, to rise above the human condition.”

However, the concept of perfectibility endorsed by Neo-Aristotelians such as Veatch and Rasmussen certainly doesn’t require humans to become godlike.

And Passmore’s final paragraph suggests to me that there is little difference between his views on perfectibility and those of the Neo-Aristotelians mentioned above:

“In spite of these reflections, which might lead us to reject perfectibilism in any of its forms, it is very hard to shake off the feeling that man is capable of becoming something much superior to what he now is. This feeling, if it is interpreted in the manner of the more commonsensical Enlighteners, is not in itself irrational. There is certainly no guarantee that men will ever be any better than they now are; their future is not, as it were, underwritten by Nature. Nor is there any device, whether skilful government, or education, which is certain to ensure the improvement of man’s condition. To that extent the hopes of the developmentalists or the governmentalists or the educators must certainly be abandoned. There is not the slightest ground for believing, either, with the anarchist, that if only the State could be destroyed and men could start afresh, all would be well. But we know from our own experience, as teachers or parents, that individual human beings can come to be better than they once were, given care, and that wholly to despair of a child or a pupil is to abdicate what is one’s proper responsibility. We know, too, that in the past men have made advances, in science, in art, in affection. Men, almost certainly, are capable of more than they have ever so far achieved. But what they achieve, or so I have suggested, will be a consequence of their remaining anxious, passionate, discontented human beings.” (p. 258)

Conclusion

This essay was prompted by my reading of John Passmore’s book, The Perfectibility of Man.

Passmore makes a strong case that government attempts to implement utopian ideas about human perfectibility result in tyrannical outcomes.

In my view, he also offers a persuasive argument that perfectibilism is dehumanizing when it is approached from the perspective of attempting to rise above the human condition - to become godlike.

However, I disagree with Passmore’s view of Aristotle’s application of teleology to individual flourishing. Passmore suggests that because the general concept of perfection does not have written into it any suggestion of moral excellence, it is possible for some people to actualize their potential perfectly by becoming villains. My response is that Aristotle’s understanding of human perfectibility does have a suggestion of moral excellence written into it. In support, I also refer to Henry Veatch’s view of the link between virtuous behaviour and the exercise of practical wisdom.

Nevertheless, after considering Passmore’s bottom line about the possibility for greater human achievement, I conclude that his view that perfectibilism is dehumanizing does not necessarily apply to Neo-Aristotelian perfectibilists. It certainly doesn’t apply to those of us who maintain that seeking to perfect oneself is about becoming “fully human”, rather than godlike.

Is Character Education Compatible with Individualistic Perfectionism?

 This is a guest essay by Dr Edward W. Younkins, Professor of Accountancy and Business at Wheeling University, and Executive Director of its Institute for the Study of Capitalism and Morality. Ed is author of a trilogy of important books on freedom and flourishing: “Capitalism and Commerce”, “Champions of a Free Society”, and “Flourishing and Happiness in a Free Society”. He also has numerous other publications, including several published on this site. (Please see the list after the end of this essay.)  

 

 Interest in Aristotelian ethics has produced diverse accounts of flourishing, virtue, and moral development. Kristján Kristjánsson has emerged as a contemporary defender of virtue ethics applied to psychology and education (Kristjánsson, 2015 and 2019). Meanwhile, Douglas B. Rasmussen and Douglas J. Den Uyl have developed a distinctive neo-Aristotelian liberalism centered on individualistic perfectionism and metanormative political theory (Rasmussen and Den Uyl, 2005 and 2020 and Den Uyl and Rasmussen, 2016).

This essay examines two distinct but complementary projects within a framework of neo-Aristotelian freedom and flourishing. While both projects share a commitment to human flourishing (eudaimonia) as an objective, naturalistic end, they diverge markedly in their primary focus—one on the normative ethics of character development, the other on the metanormative foundations of political liberty. This essay first summarizes Kristjánsson’s core arguments concerning character, practical wisdom, and education. It then critically evaluates his project before comparing it with Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s theoretical architecture of Individualistic Perfectionism. The article concludes by discussing how Kristjánsson’s developmental insights can potentially be integrated with a liberty-centered perfectionist framework. It does this by assessing their compatibility and exploring how aspects of Kristjánsson’s educational and character-focused framework might enrich and build upon the political philosophy of Rasmussen and Den Uyl.

 Aristotelian Character Ethics and Moral Psychology

 Kristjánsson (2015) defends a conception of moral character grounded in Aristotelian virtue ethics. He rejects reductive behaviorist or situationist interpretations of moral psychology, arguing instead that virtues constitute integrated dispositions involving cognition, emotion, motivation, and action. Virtue, on this account, is not mere conformity to external rules but stable excellence of character.

Central to this framework is practical wisdom (phronesis), which Kristjánsson describes as the coordinating capacity that enables agents to deliberate well about particular circumstances. Practical wisdom integrates moral perception, emotional regulation, and rational judgment. It allows ethical flexibility without collapsing into relativism.

Kristjánsson further defends an objective but pluralistic conception of flourishing. Flourishing is grounded in human nature and rational agency, yet admits multiple instantiations shaped by personal talents, cultural contexts, and life projects. This position preserves moral realism while accommodating diversity.

He develops an account of virtue that emphasizes its cognitive, affective, and behavioral dimensions. The practical ramifications are thoroughly explored. Kristjánsson considers whether and how schools can counteract the effects of a poor upbringing, the role of teacher training in fostering virtue, and specific methodologies for classroom practice. He rejuvenates the Aristotelian idea that virtue is developed through guided practice, habituation, emotional attunement, the emulation of exemplars, virtue literacy, deliberative dialogue, and Habituation framing the school as a crucial polis for moral development.

Guided practice involves modeling appropriate responses, providing structured opportunities for practice, and offering corrective feedback. Habituation combines behavioral repetition with reflective endorsement where virtues are practiced in a variety of contexts such as classroom discussions, group projects, conflict resolution, and community service. Emotion education teaches that virtues imply states of character involving both right reason and rightly ordered emotions (i.e., affective cultivation). The goal is to align reason and feeling using practical tools such as classroom dialogue, literature discussions, and reflective journaling. The emulation of moral exemplars provides images of flourishing with reference to historical figures, literary characters, community leaders, or teachers themselves. Virtue literacy is concerned with providing students with a moral vocabulary and helping them to identify and differentiate virtues. Deliberative dialogue is connected to virtue literacy and involves students examining cases and reasoning together about what a virtuous agent would do. Finally, the creation of a whole-school ethos or culture supportive of virtue development is another potential methodological emphasis. Such a culture embeds virtues in school policies, reward systems, disciplinary procedures, extracurricular activities, mentoring systems, honor codes, and so on. This book thus provides an interdisciplinary framework, drawing from philosophy, education, psychology, and sociology, to argue for character education as the foundational process for initiating young people into a life of virtue.

 Flourishing as the Aim of Education 

In Flourishing as the Aim of Education, Kristjánsson (2019) extends Aristotelian ethics into educational theory. He criticizes technocratic schooling models that emphasize standardized performance metrics at the expense of moral development. Instead, he argues that education should aim at cultivating virtuous, practically wise, and autonomous individuals capable of responsible self-direction.

Kristjánsson proposes an integrated model of moral education combining habituation, reflective understanding, and autonomy-supportive pedagogy. Students should internalize moral reasons rather than merely conform to behavioral expectations. He introduces the concept of “virtue literacy,” emphasizing moral vocabulary, ethical reasoning skills, and practical application. 

Importantly, Kristjánsson situates education within a broader moral ecology. Schools, families, peer cultures, and social institutions jointly shape moral development. Effective character education therefore requires institutional coherence between stated values and organizational practices.

Flourishing as the Aim of Education represents an expansion and deepening of Kristjánsson’s earlier work. Explicitly an outgrowth of his previous monograph, this book shifts the focus from character per se to the overarching aim it serves: student flourishing. Taking the Aristotelian concept of eudaimonia as its basis, Kristjánsson develops a theoretical study of flourishing that goes beyond Aristotle’s approach.

Kristjánsson contends that education’s ultimate purpose is to contribute to the student’s “good life.” This good life, however, must involve more than moral virtue or subjective happiness. He introduces the “Flourishing–Happiness Concordance Thesis” to critically examine the relationship between objective flourishing and subjective well-being, questioning whether they always align. He observes that these don’t always go hand in hand He contends that, yes, one can have happiness with flourishing but one can also happiness with no flourishing, no happiness with flourishing, and, of course, no happiness with no flourishing.  A significant and novel argument in the book is that even “supreme moral virtue” is insufficient for full flourishing. Kristjánsson proposes that flourishing requires engagement with “self-transcendent ideals” and the cultivation of “awe-filled enchantment”.

This leads him to incorporate elements often overlooked in standard character education literature: contemplation, wonder, awe, and what he terms “epiphanies”—transformative moments of moral and existential insight. He also extends the theory of exemplarity, arguing for the emulation of moral exemplars as a pathway to flourishing that moves beyond traditional models. By allowing for social, individual, and educational variance within the concept of flourishing, Kristjánsson provides a nuanced framework that engages with socio-political and spiritual issues, making it relevant for diverse educational contexts. Each chapter concludes with practical “food for thought” for educators, bridging theory with classroom practice. 

Critical Evaluation

While Kristjánsson’s synthesis is philosophically sophisticated and empirically informed, several limitations warrant scrutiny. First, his framework occasionally under-theorizes political constraints on institutional moral authority. Although he emphasizes autonomy-supportive education, he remains relatively silent on the legitimacy boundaries between education and moral governance.

From a flourishing individualist perspective, this raises concerns about value imposition. Even well-intentioned character education programs risk homogenizing moral outlooks and undermining pluralism. Kristjánsson’s emphasis on shared virtues requires careful specification to avoid transforming education into ideological socialization.

In addition, Kristjánsson’s reliance on institutional coordination presupposes cooperative alignment among cultural actors. In highly pluralistic societies, such coherence is unlikely. Without robust protections for parental choice and civil society autonomy, flourishing-oriented education may become politically contested.

Nevertheless, these limitations do not undermine the core contribution of Kristjánsson’s work. Rather, they highlight the need for integration with political theories that safeguard moral agency while enabling character development.

 Rasmussen and Den Uyl: Individualistic Perfectionism and Metanormativity

Rasmussen and Den Uyl articulate a distinctive neo-Aristotelian framework grounded in their philosophy of Individualistic Perfectionism. Flourishing is agent-relative: individuals pursue objective goods in diverse ways shaped by personal context and responsibility. Ethical objectivity does not entail uniform life plans. 

Their political theory is structured around metanormativity. In Norms of Liberty (2005), they argue that rights function as higher-order norms that protect the social space necessary for flourishing without prescribing substantive moral ends. Political institutions should enable flourishing conditions rather than enforce ethical ideals.

Norms of Liberty addresses what the authors term “liberalism’s problem”: how to establish a political/legal order that does not preferentially structure the conditions for one person’s or group’s flourishing over another’s. Their brilliant solution is the distinction between normative and metanormative principles.

Normative principles guide individual moral conduct—they are the virtues and goods that constitute a flourishing life. Metanormative principles, in contrast, concern the political/legal framework that makes the pursuit of diverse moral lives possible. Rasmussen and Den Uyl argue that individual rights (understood as negative liberties) are metanormative principles. Their function is not to directly promote human flourishing but to “create a space for each person to pursue a different and distinct form of life” by protecting the possibility of self-directed activity. Rights are thus “context-setting”; they establish the conditions under which moral conduct can occur, recognizing that coerced action can never be moral.

This allows them to advocate for a “perfectionist basis for non-perfectionist politics.” A neo-Aristotelian perfectionist ethics (which holds that flourishing is an objective, individualized telos) supports a non-perfectionist politics that refrains from legally mandating any particular vision of the good life.

In The Perfectionist Turn  (2016),  Rasmussen and Den Uyl shift from defending liberalism to fleshing out the “individualistic perfectionism” in ethics that undergirds their political theory. They challenge the assumption that a neo-Aristotelian ethical framework cannot support liberal politics by detailing the features of this alternative ethical system.

Individualistic Perfectionism maintains that while human flourishing is an objective end grounded in human nature, its concrete realization is uniquely individualized for each person. Generic goods (e.g., knowledge, friendship, health) and virtues (e.g., rationality, justice, courage) are necessary but must be integrated by individual practical wisdom (phronesis) in light of one’s specific circumstances, talents, and relationships. This ethics is agent-relative and anti-constructivist; moral truth is discovered in reality, not constructed by rational agreement. The book positions this framework as a major alternative to prevailing constructivist approaches in contemporary ethics.

 

In The Realist Turn (2020), they further emphasize responsibility and moral agency as central components of human flourishing. Flourishing requires self-directed practical reasoning within institutional frameworks that respect individual sovereignty.

The Realist Turn completes the trilogy by defending the metaphysical realism required for both individualistic perfectionism and natural rights. The authors argue that the entire project rests on the conviction that “man and the world exist apart from our cognition of them, and that people can know their nature”.

They launch a sustained critique of constructivism—the view that moral principles are determined by idealized rational procedures rather than discovered facts about reality. Constructivism, they contend, severs ethics from metaphysics, leading to a procedural, rule-governed, “one-size-fits-all” approach that cannot account for the individualized, context-sensitive nature of flourishing. In contrast, metaphysical realism holds that values are “fact-based” and discovered through rational engagement with the world. This realist turn is presented as essential for a proper comprehension and defense of freedom, as it grounds rights in the natural order of things.

Compatibility with Kristjánsson

Kristjánsson’s Aristotelian psychology essentially aligns with Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s ethical foundations. All emphasize objective flourishing, rational agency, practical wisdom, and character development. Kristjánsson’s developmental account of how virtues emerge complements Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s more abstract normative framework.

However, tensions arise regarding institutional authority. Kristjánsson’s educational perfectionism contrasts with Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s insistence on metanormative neutrality. A synthesis would reinterpret Kristjánsson’s insights through voluntary institutional contexts: families, private schools, community organizations, and civil associations rather than centralized state programs.

Kristjánsson and Rasmussen and Den Uyl share fundamental philosophical commitments that make their projects broadly compatible within the neo-Aristotelian tradition.

1. Objective Flourishing: Both affirm that human flourishing (eudaimonia) is an objective, naturalistic end, not a mere subjective preference.

2. The Role of Virtue: Both see moral virtue as a central constituent of the good life. Kristjánsson’s entire educational project is built on this premise, while Rasmussen and Den Uyl list virtues and generic goods necessary for any individualized flourishing.

3. Anti-Constructivism: Both reject constructivist approaches to ethics. Kristjánsson grounds character in a realist anthropology, and Rasmussen and Den Uyl make the critique of constructivism a centerpiece of their metaethical and metaphysical arguments.

4. The Social Nature of Flourishing: Both acknowledge that flourishing is inherently social. Kristjánsson emphasizes the educational community, while Rasmussen and Den Uyl view friendship as a constituent good and sociality as a necessary condition.

5. The Need for Practical Wisdom (Phronesis): Both emphasize the role of individual judgment. For Kristjánsson, students must develop practical wisdom to navigate moral life. For Rasmussen and Den Uyl, phronesis is the faculty that integrates generic goods into a unique, individual life plan.

Despite shared ground, their focal points create significant divergences.

1. Primary Focus: Normative vs. Metanormative: This is the most fundamental difference. Kristjánsson’s work operates at the normative level: How do we become good and flourish? His subject is the content and process of moral education. Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s work is primarily metanormative: What political framework allows different answers to the normative question to coexist? Their subject is the context for moral activity, not the activity itself.

2. The Role of Politics and the State: Rasmussen and Den Uyl rigorously limit the state’s role to securing rights (the metanormative framework), arguing politics is “not suited to making men moral”. Kristjánsson, while not prescribing a state-led curriculum, inherently sees public education as a key institution for normative character formation. A tension arises: if the state funds and regulates schools, can it do so without violating the “non-perfectionist” principle by endorsing a particular (Aristotelian) vision of the good?

3. The Sufficiency of Moral Virtue: Kristjánsson’s later work argues that moral virtue is necessary but not sufficient for flourishing, requiring awe, wonder, and self-transcendence. Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s list of generic goods is more traditional and inclusive, but their framework might accommodate Kristjánsson’s “enchanted” elements as legitimate aspects of an individualized flourishing life. However, their emphasis on self-direction and agent-relativity might view prescribed “spiritual” elements in education with more caution.

4. Scope of the “Social”: For Kristjánsson, the educational community is a direct vehicle for moral formation. For Rasmussen and Den Uyl, sociality is a good, but the political/legal order must be neutral among the diverse forms of social life individuals choose. The “open-ended” nature of sociality in their framework prioritizes voluntary association over the structured community of the school.

 Toward a Synthesis

Integrating the ideas of Kristjánsson with those of Rasmussen and Den Uyl has the potential to yield a richer framework of neo-Aristotelian freedom and flourishing. Kristjánsson provides the psychological and pedagogical mechanisms by which individuals acquire moral competence. Rasmussen and Den Uyl supply the political architecture that protects moral freedom.

Such a synthesis supports a decentralized moral ecology in which character formation occurs within voluntary institutions operating under a metanormative rights-based framework. Flourishing becomes both a personal achievement and a socially supported process without collapsing into paternalism.

 A synthesis must explicitly address autonomy, spontaneous order, and the role of civil society institutions. These concepts are central to Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s realist liberalism and provide the institutional context necessary for integrating Kristjánsson’s moral psychology without collapsing into state-centered perfectionism.

Autonomy, for Rasmussen and Den Uyl, is not merely negative freedom from interference but the positive capacity for self-directed practical reasoning and responsible agency. Flourishing requires individuals to function as authors of their own lives, exercising judgment in selecting values, projects, and commitments. Kristjánsson’s autonomy-supportive pedagogy aligns with this view insofar as it emphasizes internalization of moral reasons rather than external compliance. However, Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s Individualistic Perfectionism insists that autonomy must be institutionally protected through rights-respecting frameworks that prevent coercive moral engineering.

Spontaneous order further clarifies how moral development can occur without centralized design. Following Hayekian insights incorporated into Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s realist turn, social coordination emerges through decentralized interactions, cultural evolution, and voluntary associations. Moral norms, educational practices, and character formation strategies evolve organically within communities rather than being imposed from above. Kristjánsson’s emphasis on moral ecology can be reconceived within this spontaneous order framework, where diverse educational models compete, adapt, and innovate according to local needs and values.

The institutions of civil society serve as the primary mediating structures between individuals and the state. Families, religious organizations, independent (private) schools, professional associations, charities, and community networks constitute the institutional infrastructure of a free society. These voluntary associations may be able to provide moral formation environments consistent with Kristjánsson’s character education goals while remaining compatible with Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s metanormative liberalism. They allow pluralistic experimentation in virtue cultivation without political homogenization.

This institutional architecture preserves both moral substance and political restraint and avoids the false dilemma between moral relativism and state-enforced virtue. Instead, it supports a pluralistic ecosystem of character formation anchored in autonomy, spontaneous order, and voluntary cooperation. Within this framework, Kristjánsson’s developmental insights may potentially gain practical application while remaining compatible with liberty-centered political theory.

Kristjánsson’s detailed work on the process of flourishing has the potential to usefully complement Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s work on its preconditions. Several of his ideas may be able to be incorporated into a liberal perfectionist perspective without violating its metanormative constraints.

1. Articulating the “Individual” in Individualistic Perfectionism: Rasmussen and  Den Uyl assert that flourishing is individualized but say less about how individuals develop the capacity for such self-direction. Kristjánsson’s developmental psychology of virtue—how phronesis, empathy, and integrity are cultivated from childhood—provides essential content for understanding the “individual” who is to be the agent of his own flourishing. This can strengthen their ethics by showing how the capacity for self-direction is nurtured, not merely presupposed.

2. Enriching the Concept of Flourishing: Kristjánsson’s argument for the role of awe, wonder, and “epiphanies” offers a compelling expansion of the “generic goods” that constitute a flourishing life. A liberal perfectionist can argue that education should expose children to the potential for such experiences (through art, science, nature, philosophy) as part of developing their capacity to appreciate and pursue a full life, without dictating the specific objects of awe.

3. A Framework for Voluntary Educational Communities: Rasmussen and  Den Uyl’s framework favors voluntary association. Kristjánsson’s research provides a blueprint for what parents and educators in such voluntary communities (including charter schools, private schools, or homeschooling networks) might aim for in character education. It offers an empirically-informed “perfectionist” curriculum that respects pluralism by being one offered option among many, not a state-mandated monopoly.

4. Connecting Entrepreneurship and Moral Education: Rasmussen and Den Uyl draw an analogy between the entrepreneur and the moral agent, both navigating uncertainty with creativity and alertness. Kristjánsson’s work on exemplarity and moral development provides a pedagogical correlate: how to educate individuals to become such alert, creative moral “entrepreneurs” of their own lives. This creates a powerful synergy between their economic and ethical individualism.

Conclusion

Kristjánsson’s Aristotelian ethics and educational philosophy advance contemporary virtue theory by reconnecting flourishing with empirical psychology and institutional practice. In turn, Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s Individualistic Perfectionism provides the necessary political safeguards for preserving individual moral agency.

Kristján Kristjánsson and the duo of Rasmussen and Den Uyl represent two strands of contemporary neo-Aristotelian thought. Kristjánsson delves deeply into the normative and developmental question of how human beings become virtuous and flourish, particularly through education. Rasmussen and Den Uyl address the prior political question of how to create a society where diverse, individualized pursuits of flourishing can coexist peacefully, grounding their answer in metanormative theory and metaphysical realism.

Their projects are not so much incompatible as they are complementary, operating at different levels of analysis. The primary tension lies at the intersection of state action and education. However, within a political order that respects rights as metanorms, Kristjánsson’s work may become invaluable. It provides a guide for the voluntary communities, families, and individuals that seek to answer the normative question within their own lives. By integrating Kristjánsson’s insights into the cultivation of character, practical wisdom, and a sense of wonder, the Individualistic Perfectionism of Rasmussen and Den Uyl could gain greater psychological depth and pedagogical traction. Together, these bodies of work potentially offer a more complete picture: a liberal society that protects the space for freedom, populated by individuals educated to use that freedom wisely in the pursuit of a truly flourishing life. 

 References

Den Uyl, Douglas J.  and Rasmussen Douglas B. (2016). The Perfectionist turn: From Metanorms to Metaethics. Edinburgh University Press.

Kristjánsson, Kristján. (2015). Aristotelian Character Ethics: An Aristotelian Approach to moral Psychology. Oxford University Press.

Kristjánsson, Kristján. (2019). Flourishing as the Aim of Education: A neo-Aristotelian View. Routledge.

Rasmussen, Douglas B.  and Den Uyl, Douglas J. (2005). Norms of liberty: A Perfectionist Basis for Non-perfectionist Politics. Pennsylvania State University Press.

Rasmussen, Douglas B. and Den Uyl, Douglas J.  (2020). The Realist Turn: Repositioning Liberalism. Edinburgh University Press.

 

Other essays by Ed Younkins on this site:

Younkins, Edward W (2025) “What Contribution did David L. Norton Make to our Understanding of Ethical Individualism?” Freedom and Flourishing. January 18, 2025.

Younkins, Edward W. (2025) “How can dialectics help us to defend liberty?” Freedom and Flourishing. July 8, 2025.

Younkins, Edward W. (2025) “How can Austrian Economics be reconciled with the Neo-Aristotelian philosophy of Freedom and Flourishing?” Freedom and Flourishing. October 24, 2025.

Younkins, Edward W. (2025) “Can Polarized Moral Politics be Bridged by a Neo-Aristotelian Philosophy of Freedom and Flourishing?” Freedom and Flourishing. December 13, 2025.

Younkins, Edward W (2026) “Does Humanomics Need a Moral Anchor?” Freedom and Flourishing. January 22, 2026.