The Dietary Theory of Morality

You are what you eat, morally speaking

In last week’s Contemplation, I noted in the footnote: “I do have a personal moral theory to justify my moral intuitions, but I haven’t yet written it out here on Tree of Woe. That remains an essay for the future.” The future is now!

I call my theory the Dietary Theory of Morality, and it was inspired by a TEDx talk I gave before the dark times fell. As part of the my gradual development of what I call physiocracy, it seems worthwhile to share it.

To understand the Dietary Theory of Morality, we need to understand diet. It might seem weird to start off a discussion of morality by discussing whether we should eat hamburgers or soy shakes, but bear with me. Learning about diet is like like learning wax on wax off in Miyagi-Do karate. Suddenly it will “click” for you and everything will be clear.

Diet: A Pattern of Choices

Every day, every human being is confronted by an appetite for food. Each person, in light of their appetite, then chooses whether and when to eat; and when they choose to eat, they must then choose how much and what type of food. A single choice constitutes a meal or a snack; the pattern of choices constitutes a diet. That is, a person’s diet is the pattern of the choices they made of when, how much, and what to eat. A diet can be descriptive (describing past choices) or normative (suggesting future choices).

Some people’s diets are appetitive or opportunistic. If they have unlimited options at hand, they may eat strictly based on their momentary appetite. If they have only one option at hand, they may eat based on their limited opportunity. An appetitive diet consists of eating whatever one wants whenever one wants; an opportunistic diet consists of eating whatever one can when one can.

Some people’s diets are, however, structured. A structured diet is one where a system of rules regulates when, how much, and what type of food is eaten. These rules can be formal and written, or informal or customary. For example, you might follow the traditional French diet. According to its customary rules, you:

• Eat a small breakfast in the morning, consisting of bread, cereal, or yogurt with coffee.

• Eat a medium-sized lunch in the afternoon and a medium-sized dinner in the mid evening (7:30-8:30PM).

• Divide your lunches and dinners into courses, consisting of appetizer, entrée, salad, dessert, cheese, and coffee, with small portions of meat, vegetables, and starch in each meal spread across the courses.

• Drink wine with lunch and dinner.

The traditional French diet is followed by millions of people in Europe. Other well-known structured diets include the traditional American or Western diet, traditional Mediterranean diet, and traditional Japanese diet, as well as modern structures such as the Vegan diet, the Paleo diet, and Atkins diet.

And, of course, some people generally follow a structured diet, but lapse due to akrasia or wantonness, placing appetite over reason. An Atkins dieter who suffers a break-up might binge eat some brownies. Others lapse due to conditions making it impossible to maintain the structure. An Atkins dieter who is visiting his mother might eat her home-cooked pasta because there’s no other food in the house.

Overall, then, a human being, then, can either choose to follow a particular structured diet, and follow its guidance on what, when, and how much to eat; or choose to make a series of moment-by-moment choices about what, when, and how much to eat; or some hybrid of the choices, blending structured, opportunistic, and appetitive choices together.

What Diet Ought We Choose?

Which of these choices ought a human being make? That is, what diet ought a person follow? Now, we are told that it is impossible to derive an “ought” from an “is”. But that is not true. It is possible, as Alasdair Macintyre has pointed out, to derive ought from is for functional concepts. For instance, to say that something is a screwdriver means it ought to be able to turn screws. To say that an organ is a heart means it ought to be able to pump blood.

Having established what something’s function is, we can then evaluate the goodness or badness of that thing relative to the performance of its function. For instance, a screwdriver with a head that is so flimsy and asymmetrical that it cannot turn screws is a bad screwdriver. A heart that is so clogged and weak that it cannot circulate sufficient blood to keep its owner alive is a bad heart.

Does diet have a function? A descriptive diet does not, because it is purely descriptive of past choices. But a normative diet does have a function, as it governs the pattern of future choices. And the function of a diet is to enable wellbeing - to live at a healthy weight with healthy body systems.

If we have a pattern of eating too little, we become emaciated and die. If we have a pattern of eating too much, we become obese and die. If we have a pattern of eating the right amount, we maintain a healthy weight and live. If we have a pattern of eating too infrequently, we starve and die. If we have a pattern of eating too frequently, we become obese and die. If we eat at the right frequency, we maintain a healthy weight and live. And, most importantly, if we have a pattern of not eating certain types of foods that cause certain types of chemical reactions in our body, we become sick and die. If we have a pattern of eating those foods, we maintain good health and live.

Thus a diet ought to help us maintain health and life. We can call a normative diet which fulfills its function a good, healthy, or nutritious diet, and a diet that does not fulfill its function is a bad, unhealthy, or innutritious diet.

What is the Relationship Between Appetite and Diet?

As we said at the start of our dietary discussion, humans have appetites that induce them to eat food. (I use appetite here both in the Aristotelian ethical sense and in the sense of actual hunger; the beauty of this analogy is how it segues between the two.)

However, my assessment of the goodness or badness of diet did not take into account whether it satisfies the appetite. This is deliberate. Appetites, like diets, are also functional — the function arising from evolution by Nature or design by Nature’s God. The function of the appetite is to provide sensory feedback on our diet choices. That is, the function of a diet is not to properly satisfy our appetites; instead, the function of our appetites is to properly guide our diets. Appetites are instrumental to diets, not vice versa.

We can thus, without violating the is-ought distinction, assert that a good or healthy appetite is one that guides us towards a good diet, and a bad or unhealthy appetite is one that guides us towards a bad diet. And this is, of course, exactly how we view them in everyday life.

As the Ancient Greeks were wont to point out, and we moderns are wont to forget, appetites — while genetic in origin — can be trained. We might, by dint of poor previous choices, acquire an appetite for an unhealthy amount of sugar, a sweet-tooth; we might, by dint of previous choices, lose our appetite for junk food or meat.

The possibility of training the appetite creates the possibility of dietary instruction, which is itself a functional concept. The function of dietary instruction is to train the appetites of children during that time period when their choices are made for them, so that when they are adults, they have healthy appetites that in turn will lead to healthy diets. And, as a functional concept, dietary instruction can also be good or bad.

When a family or culture encourages a healthy traditional cuisine, such as Mediterranean food, it offers good dietary instruction, training the appetite of young people, so that following that diet becomes natural to them, thus causing the function of their appetites to be fulfilled. And, to the extent the diet is followed, it offers its members the appropriate quality and quantity of food, thus fulfilling the function of a diet.

Is the Evaluation of Diet Objective or Subjective?

When evaluating whether something fulfills its function, it is necessary to distinguish between an objective or subjective evaluation. An objective evaluation is one that can be quantified, measured, and analyzed by third parties. A subjective evaluation is one that can be expressed to third parties, but not quantified, measured, or analyzed.

Because people tend to erroneously believe that the function of their diet is to satisfy their appetites, they mistakenly conclude that the evaluation of their diet is subjective. But it is not; it is objective. Your body needs, e.g., 1,800 calories a day and it does not care how you feel about that. (As we’ll see later, one of the great errors of contemporary morality has been in misunderstanding this casual chain.)

However, it is important to stress that while diet is objective, it is objective for each individual. Each of us is born with different biological traits that have ramifications for what food choices will lead us to wellness or sickness. Some people are gluten intolerant; some are lactose intolerant. Some people can digest rice more easily than others. Some people need more Vitamin D from their food. Some people suffer allergies. Some suffer nutritional deficiencies.

Since biological traits are inherited from our ancestors, and people have historically lived near people wo share their ancestry, most people historically have grown up in families and cultures where what was objectively nutritious for them was also objectively nutritious for everyone else. There were very few lactose-intolerant dairy farmers in 11th century Switzerland, and very few gluten-intolerant peasants in Ancient Egypt. Today, of course, conditions have changed, with disastrous results. Indigenous peoples adopting the American diet become very sick, for instance; Native Americans drinking alcohol suffer terrible risk of alcoholism.

Even today, we do not fully understand the implication of our biology for our nutrition. Partly because of our biodiversity, the science is not settled. In 1980, fat was allegedly bad for you and low-fat carbs were good for you. In 2020, low-carb high-fat diets are allegedly healthy. A more honest statement would be that low-carb high-fat diets are healthy for some people with particular biological traits. My own wife cannot digest fats and proteins effectively; her healthy diet is carbohydrate-based, and a low-carb high-fat diet like Atkins or Paleo would kill her.

From this, we can conclude that:

• although diet is objective, the objectivity is relative to each individual agent;

• while we can aspire to evaluation of whether our diet is objectively meeting its purpose, our actual evaluation is necessarily imperfect and prone to error; and

• we cannot draw conclusions about what other dieters should do except tentatively and only to the extent that we believe they are biologically like us.

For example, we could say that all evidence points to the American diet of processed foods being an objectively bad diet; and we could say that a diet of 1,000 calories per day is too few for an active 180-lbs male, while 6,000 calories per day is too much for a sedentary 100-lbs female; but we could not say that the Mediterranean diet is better than the Japanese diet for all people at all times, nor could we say that everyone should switch from carbs to fat, or that everyone should eat 1500 calories per day.

Dietary Utilitarianism is Absurd

Utilitarianism is a philosophy that holds that the most moral (most good) choice for an agent is the choice that promotes the greatest good for the greatest number of people. The “greatest good” they then assert to be hedonic, e.g. maximization of pleasure and minimization of pain. In making this assertion, utilitarians accomplish a moral slight of hand - because the evaluation they apply for the goodness of the choice is not the evaluation they apply for the goodness of the outcome. It only works because we conflate “good as moral” and “good as pleasurable”.

The sleight of hand becomes apparent when one substitutes pleasure for good. “The most pleasurable choice for an agent is the choice that promotes the greatest pleasure for the greatest number of people.” Since an agent’s pleasure is subjective, this is certain to be a false statement for many, if not most people.

The sleight of hand becomes even more apparent when one substitutes diet instead. “The best (most good) diet for a dieter is the diet that promotes the best (most good) diet for the greatest number of people.” This is utterly false. The purpose of a diet is to maintain the dieter’s wellbeing. The evaluation of whether a particular diet is good for a particular is diet is conceptually distinct from and unrelated to whether that diet promotes other people’s health and wellbeing. Dietary utilitarianism is absurd.

Morality: A Pattern of Choices

It is my contention that morality is nothing more than diet, expanded in scope to encompass all human choices, rather than just food choices. Let’s lay it out.

Every day, every human being is confronted by appetites for various activities. Each person, in light of their appetites, then chooses which activities to undertake. A single choice constitutes a decision; a pattern of choices constitutes a moral code. That is, a person’s moral code is the pattern of the choices they made of when, how much, and what activities to undertake. A moral code can be descriptive (describing past choices) or normative (suggesting future choices).

Some people’s moral codes are appetitive or opportunistic. If they have unlimited options at hand, they may undertake activities strictly based on their momentary appetites. If they have only one option at hand, they may undertake activities based on their limited opportunity. An appetitive code consists of doing whatever one wants whenever one wants; an opportunistic moral code consists of doing whatever one can when one can.

Some people’s moral codes are, however, structured. A structured moral code is one where a system of rules regulates when, how much, and what type of activities are undertaken. These rules can be formal and written, or informal or customary. For example, people might follow the traditional Christian moral code, or the Confucian moral code, and so on.

And, of course, some people generally follow a structured moral code, but lapse due to akrasia or wantonness, placing appetite over reason. A Christian who suffers a break-up might sinfully fornicate with a prostitute. Other people might lapse due to conditions making it impossible to maintain the structure. A Christian who is trapped on a desert island might be unable to confess his sins to a priest because there are no priests on the island.

Overall, a human being can either choose to follow a particular structured moral code, and follow its guidance on what, when, and how to undertake activities; or choose to make a series of moment-by-moment choices about what, when, and how to undertake activities, or some hybrid of the choices, blending structured, opportunistic, and appetitive choices together.

What moral code ought a person follow? Again, if we establish what something’s function is, we can then evaluate the goodness or badness of that thing relative to the performance of its function. Does a moral code have a function? A descriptive moral code does not, because it is purely descriptive of past choices.

But a normative moral code does have a function, as it governs the pattern of future choices. And the function of a moral code is to enable wellbeing - this was the key insight of Aristotelian morality, supposedly (but not actually) “discredited” by modern biology.

We can call a normative moral code which fulfills its function a good moral code, and a diet that does not fulfill its function a bad moral code.¹

What is the Relationship Between Appetites and Moral Codes?

Humans have appetites that induce them to undertake activities. I now use appetite in the Aristotelian ethical sense.

The assessment of the goodness or badness of a moral code does not take into account whether it satisfies the appetite. This is because appetites are also functional — the function arising from evolution by Nature or design by Nature’s God. The function of our appetites is to provide sensory feedback on our moral choices. That is, the function of a moral code is not to properly satisfy our appetites; instead, the function of our appetites is to properly guide our moral codes. Appetites are instrumental to moral codes, not vice versa.

We can thus, without violating the is-ought distinction, assert that a good or virtuous appetite is one that guides us towards a good moral code, and a bad or vicious appetite is one that guides us towards a bad moral code. Virtuous appetites encourage us to make good choices; vicious appetites tempt us to make bad choices.

And, again, as the Ancient Greeks were wont to point out, and we moderns are wont to forget, appetites — while genetic in origin — can be trained. We might, by dint of poor previous choices, acquire an appetite for self-indulgence and sloth. We might, by dint of good previous choices, acquire an appetite for impeccable self-discipline.

The possibility of training the appetite creates the possibility of moral instruction, which is itself a functional concept. The function of moral instruction is to train the appetites of children during that time period when their choices are made for them, so that when they are adults, they have healthy appetites that in turn will lead to healthy mora codes. And, as a functional concept, moral instruction can also be good or bad.

When a family or culture encourages a healthy moral code, one that is conducive to wellbeing, it offers good moral instruction, training the appetite of young people, so that following that moral code becomes natural to them, thus causing the function of their appetites to be fulfilled. And, to the extent the moral code is followed, it guides its members towards taking activities conducive to wellbeing, thus fulfilling the function of a moral code.

Is the Evaluation of a Moral Code Objective or Subjective?

Again, when evaluating whether something fulfills its function, it is necessary to distinguish between an objective or subjective evaluation.

People who erroneously believe that the function of their moral choices is to satisfy their appetites, mistakenly conclude that the evaluation of their moral choices is subjective. But it is not; it is objective.

Again, however, it is important to stress that while diet is objective, it is objective for each individual. Each of us is born with different biological traits that have ramifications for what moral choices will lead us to wellbeing. Some people are cognitively gifted, but ill-suited for manual labor, while others are the opposite. Some people are exhausted by speaking with others, while others thrive on interaction. Some people gain wellbeing from intimate close-knit groups, and others gain wellbeing from privacy.

Since biological traits are inherited from our ancestors, and people have historically lived near people wo share their ancestry, most people historically have grown up in families and cultures where what was objectively good for their wellbeing was also objectively good for everyone else’s wellbeing. Today, of course, conditions have changed, with disastrous results — which we see, for instance, in the apocalyptic ruin that occurs when we try to “build” foreign nations in our image.

Finally, for morality, even more than with nutrition, we do not fully understand the implication of our biology for our choices. We do not know in advance what will promote our wellbeing. We must engage in a process of self-discovery to find out.

From this, we can conclude that:

• although moral codes are objective, the objectivity is relative to each individual agent;

• while we can aspire to evaluation of whether our moral code is objectively meeting its purpose, our actual evaluation is necessarily imperfect and prone to error; and

• we cannot draw conclusions about what other moral actors should do except tentatively and only to the extent that we believe they are biologically like us.

As with our analysis of diet, then, we cannot come to certain conclusions about moral codes that are applicable to all people. But our inability to do so does not mean that moral codes aren’t real or are subjective. We can evaluate some moral codes as better than others; but in doing so we must paint with broad strokes, recognizing that biodiversity may make some moral codes better for some groups or people than others.

We can speak of “moral food groups,” which integrate regulations on harm avoidance, in-group loyalty, and other factors into moral codes in different proportions. We can argue about which are most important for particular people or groups. But in so doing we would not be shouting past each other, or making untestable assertions based on sentiment, which is what modern moral debate has become.

We can accept that there will be great diversity in moral codes, partly due to different moral instruction and partly due to different biological bases, and that we should not expect one-size-fits-all. In accepting this, however, we do not have to embrace the moral equivalent of “healthy at any size” - there is not one healthy size, but there are unhealthy sizes. There is not one best moral code, but there are bad moral codes.

That, in turn, should lead us to recognize that on a geopolitical scale nation-states serve a useful role in bringing together groups who have shared moral codes, both by instruction and by birth; and that immigration can serve a useful role in allowing those who by chance “don’t fit in” to find a place they do.

It also should lead us to recognize the importance of free association and liberty of choice, so that people have the ability to undertake the activities that will lead them to their wellbeing. The Dietary Theory of Morality should also re-emphasize the importance of moral training in the young, who too often are left to grow incontinent and wanton because their appetites are unmolded with the mistaken belief that “they’ll grow out of it.”

Finally, it should lead us to recognize that sometimes moral conflict will be inevitable. What’s good for me is not always what’s good for you; and while the fact that something is good for you might be reason for you to do it, it is not reason for me to let you do it. From this asymmetry arises the necessity of government enforced by violence. We then can speak of natural laws as those sets of customs or rules which have proven so conducive to the wellbeing of those that follow them that they appear in virtually every society, and we can look to game theory to help us evaluate which rules are natural laws, that is conducive to everyone’s wellbeing if adopted by all.

1. Now, at this point, many people say “no! that’s not what morality is! morality is [this other thing],” thereby substituting in some other system. To address that, let me instead ask you to replace the word “moral code” with “wellness code.” Whatever else you might think morality is, you presumably would agree that human action does affect human wellbeing, and that as such the pattern of actions that humans undertake can be functionally evaluated with regard to their wellbeing. That is, you would agree that there is such a thing as a wellness code.

Given that, it is my supposition that the burden of proof is on the critic to demonstrate why this wellness code is not identical with the moral code. It is not enough to assert “that’s not what philosophers say what morality is,” because - as I noted - the first and arguably greatest moral philosophers did see them as identical. Nor is it enough to assert that “morality comes from God;” the existence of God necessitates that our assessment of wellbeing encompasses spiritual wellbeing, but it does not change the functional analysis. Nor, finally, is it enough to assert “my moral intuitions say that morality is something different,” because it presumes that your intuitions are moral and correct. This is the same error committed by the person who thinks that the purpose of his diet is to satisfy his appetites.

I do not believe that the critic can even in theory meet the burden of proof against my theory. As Alasdair Macintyre famously showed (in book length) in After Virtue, our choice for what morality is comes down to either Aristotle or Nietzsche - that is, either moral codes are wellness codes, or moral codes don’t exist except as figments of our imagination. But even if the latter is true, and moral codes don’t exist (as Nietzsche’s nihilistic followers averred), then wellness codes do still exist and remain important for human wellbeing.

I regret being able to offer only a few paragraph to address such matters, as the arguments can and have filled books; but the blog format necessitates we footnote this and move on.