Alasdair MacIntyre and the roots of modern communitarianism

In the landscape of contemporary ethical and political thought, few books have had the philosophical impact and narrative power of After Virtue, the seminal work of Scottish philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre. Published in 1981, this essay emerged as a profound critique of both utilitarianism and neo-contractualism and as one of the founding texts of the communitarian movement. The critical dimension explored in the book unravels around a dilemma generated by the juxtaposition of different perspectives - 'factions', the philosopher defines them - that coexist in the field of moral reflection. "On the one hand," MacIntyre writes, "it is taken for granted that reference is made to impersonal shared criteria by virtue of which it is assumed that one of the parties to the dispute will ultimately be right. On the other hand, it seems that no such criterion exists in reality (...). My explanation of this phenomenon was and remains as follows: so-called moral principles were originally embedded in a context of practical beliefs and established ways of thinking, feeling and acting, which made them comprehensible; this context, where moral judgements found their meaning by reference to impersonal criteria justified by a shared conception of the human good, has been lost. When the context and justification disappeared, as a result of the complex processes of social and moral transformation that occurred at the end of the Middle Ages and on the threshold of modernity, new ways had to be found to explain moral rules and precepts, and consequently to give them a new status, authority and justification". That of constructing a new moral orientation suited to the changed historical conditions is the task that the European Enlightenment has undertaken since the 18th century. With little success - MacIntyre is convinced - since this project has led to the 'multiplication of rival theories, one incompatible with the other, the utilitarians in conflict with the Kantians, the one and the other opposed to the contractualists, in such a way that moral judgements , as they are understood today, are essentially reduced to rules expressing the behaviour and feeling of those who formulated them, and yet they continue to be presented assuming that there is an impersonal criterion by which moral conflicts could be rationally resolved'. This de facto situation represents an impasse from which contemporary moral philosophy, and with it politics, will not be able to escape unless, as the philosopher states, one tries to 'understand the genesis and impasse of moral modernity (...) from the point of view of a different tradition, whose beliefs and assumptions Aristotle collected and analysed, theoretically elaborating them in his well-known classical theory'. It is not intended to assert the superiority of Aristotelianism and Thomism, its main medieval development, over other philosophical perspectives. On this the author of After Virtue is very clear. Rather, the attempt is to ground on Thomist and neo-Aristotelian metaphysics an explanation of the 'social good' that does not have recourse to supposed universal principles of rationality but focuses on a theory of society articulated in terms of the practices, traditions and narrative unity of the concrete lives of the men and women who inhabit this world. The place where these practices and traditions are developed, preserved and passed on is, for MacIntyre, the community. In this sense, it is possible to liken the Scottish philosopher's thought, as well as that of Michael Walzer whom we saw last week, to the strand of communitarianism. Central to the work of both is the common critique of modern liberal thought, steeped in individualism disembodied from history. However, MacIntyre is an atypical communitarian. 'Personally, I do not recognise any value in communities,' he writes. Many of them are brutally oppressive; moreover, the values of community, as understood by American exponents of communitarianism (...) are perfectly compatible with the values of liberalism that I reject, indeed help to sustain them'. The critique of liberalism that pervades the reflection in After Virtue is based on the argued conviction that 'the best life for man, the one in which the tradition of virtue is best expressed, is lived by those who are committed to building and sustaining forms of community aimed at obtaining together the shared goods that make it possible to achieve the ultimate good for man. Liberal political societies, on the other hand, are by definition committed to denying any space for a substantive conception of the good in public debate, and even less can they accept that life in common can be founded on a determinate conception of the good. According to the dominant liberal view, government must always be neutral with regard to rival conceptions of the good, even if liberalism itself in fact promotes a substantive institutional order that is hostile to the construction and sustenance of the solidary relationships necessary for the development of a happy life. The Scotsman's sui generis communitarianism was thus born as a reaction to the crisis of contemporary liberalism and its strongly individualistic claims, and is part of a transversal critique that since the 1970s has targeted the anthropological view that sees the individual as an abstract, autonomous, disembodied being, devoid of social affiliations. This view is central in Kant as well as in the neo-contractualists a la Rawls: man is conceived as a moral agent capable of rationally choosing principles of justice, regardless of his inclinations, beliefs or affiliations. In Rawls, this independence takes the form of the 'veil of ignorance' capable of guaranteeing the impartiality of individual perspectives and behind which principles of justice must be chosen. Communitarians such as Walzer and MacIntyre, but also Michael Sandel and Charles Taylor, who we will deal with later, question this premise, arguing for the problematic nature of moral and political thinking that makes abstraction of personal identity, which is constituted by relationships, traditions, languages and collective histories. The moral subject is already immersed in a network of meanings that guides its choices. Therefore, any theory of justice that ignores this context is doomed to fail in practice. In communitarian thought, the term 'community' is not reducible to a simple sociological or geographical fact. Rather, it indicates an ethical horizon, a normative environment in which individuals find meaning, orientation and recognition. The community is, therefore, the place where moral judgement is formed. It holds a tradition, a common language, and above all a collective narrative, which allows individuals to situate their lives in a broader story. This narrative aspect is crucial because for the Scottish philosopher, every human being is a character in a story. Morality is not developed through abstract rules, but through belonging to a common story, made up of shared practices, virtues, challenges and ends.

As we read in the opening quotation, according to MacIntyre, our lexicon includes words such as 'duty', 'obligation', 'justice', but having lost the contexts that made them meaningful, today such virtues appear practically and operationally meaningless. This is the main consequence of the failure of the Enlightenment project, which attempted to base ethics on universal rational foundations, to the exclusion of history and tradition. It must therefore be recognised that no moral code can be fully understood except within stable social practices, which in turn are underpinned by a narrative tradition. Practices (such as medicine, education, art) generate internal goods and require the exercise of virtues, understood not as mere personal attributes, but rather as relational dispositions that allow individuals to excel within the context of shared practices. To exercise virtue, the areté (ἀρετή), in its earliest etymology, does not in fact mean to be good but, rather, to excel. This is why we call a pianist a 'virtuoso'. Precisely when he exercises his art to the highest degree of excellence. The virtuous man is the one who knows that he is part of a story, who acts within a community and who recognises his own télos, i.e. his purpose that is expressed within a shared narrative context.

Recalling the history of the fall of the Roman Empire, MacIntyre points out that a decisive moment in that event occurred when 'men and women of goodwill turned away from the task of shoring up the Roman imperium and stopped identifying the continuation of civilisation and moral community with the preservation of that imperium. Instead, the task they set themselves (often without fully realising what they were doing) was the construction of new forms of community within which moral life could be sustained, so that both civilisation and morality would have a chance of surviving the incipient age of barbarism and darkness'. Even today we see signs that foreshadow the fall of empire, which is why in the famous ending of After Virtue the philosopher calls for the arrival of a 'new Saint Benedict', who can guide 'the construction of local forms of community within which civilisation and moral and intellectual life can be preserved through the new dark ages that already loom over us. And if the tradition of virtue has been able to survive the horrors of the last dark age, we are not entirely without grounds for hope. This time, however, the barbarians are not waiting across the borders: they have already ruled us for quite some time. And it is our unawareness of this fact that is part of our difficulty. We are waiting: not for Godot, but for another Saint Benedict, undoubtedly very different. These new communities are not utopias, but local and resistant realities: families, schools, cooperatives, parishes, monastic orders, where tradition can be preserved and reinterpreted. They are educational places, where ethics is not theory, but a form of life. There is no ethics without context. There is no justice without narrative. And there is no identity without community. From this perspective, MacIntyre's communitarianism does not appear to us to be nostalgia for the past, but a prophecy for the future.