The Concept of "Good"

Is it a precondition of intelligibility?

I recently had the chance to read a piece by

Walt Bismarck

titled “Against Morality”.

Against Morality

While reading through it, I took some time to consider the fundamental difference in worldview that causes us to diverge so radically in our outlook on life. I landed on the existence of the concept of “good” as a foundational principle on which we appear to disagree. I decided to spend a few minutes parsing this concept with Grok, which sometimes helps me solidify an idea that’s bouncing around in my head, but not yet fully fleshed out. I find it interesting to consider the counterpoints it often raises, and the references to a wide range of authors on any given topic.

Preconditions of intelligibility have fascinated me for a long time, and I found this back-and-forth quite interesting as an attempt to tie the concept of “good” and its importance in morality into the discussion.

f0xr: Explain the preconditions of intelligibility.

Grok:

The preconditions of intelligibility refer to the fundamental conditions or assumptions that must be in place for anything to be understood, communicated, or made sense of—whether in language, thought, or interaction with the world. These ideas often come up in philosophy, particularly in metaphysics, epistemology, and the philosophy of language, as they explore what makes knowledge, meaning, or rational discourse possible. Let’s break it down.

First, there’s the assumption of a shared reality. For anything to be intelligible, there has to be some common ground—a world or set of experiences that both the speaker and listener (or thinker and object) can refer to. If I say "the sky is blue," it’s only understandable if we both have a concept of "sky" and "blue" rooted in a consistent reality. Without that, words or ideas just float around without anchor.

Second, there’s the structure of language or representation. Intelligibility relies on a system—whether it’s words, symbols, or mental categories—that organizes thought into something coherent. This doesn’t mean everyone uses the same language, but there needs to be some framework with rules or patterns. Random noises or unconnected thoughts don’t carry meaning because they lack structure. Think of it like a map: without a legend or scale, the lines mean nothing.

Third, there’s the capacity for reason or interpretation. The person (or system) trying to understand has to be able to process and connect ideas. This isn’t just about intelligence—it’s about having the basic ability to recognize patterns, infer intent, or see cause and effect. A rock can’t understand me because it lacks this capacity; a human (or an AI like me) can because we’re built to make sense of things.

Finally, there’s the assumption of consistency or stability. If the meaning of words, the nature of reality, or the rules of logic changed unpredictably every second, nothing would be intelligible. We rely on the idea that "blue" today is roughly "blue" tomorrow, or that "if A, then B" holds up over time. Without some stability, communication and thought collapse.

Philosophers like Kant would tie this to a priori conditions—like space, time, and causality—arguing they’re baked into how we experience the world. Others, like Wittgenstein, might focus on language games, saying intelligibility emerges from shared practices rather than universal truths. Either way, these preconditions aren’t things we usually notice—they’re the invisible scaffolding that lets us think and talk at all.

f0xr: How does the existence of "good" relate to this concept? Is it also a precondition of intelligibility?

Grok:

The existence of "good" ties into the preconditions of intelligibility in a subtle but fascinating way—it’s not a precondition in the same foundational sense as shared reality or language, but it can be argued to play a role in how we make sense of the world, especially in a practical or moral context. Let’s unpack this.

"Good" as a concept—whether it’s moral goodness, practical value, or even aesthetic quality—presupposes intelligibility rather than being a direct precondition for it. To even talk about something being "good," you need the basic scaffolding I mentioned earlier: a shared reality where things exist to be evaluated, a structured way to express "this is good" versus "that isn’t," and the rational capacity to judge or compare. Without those, "good" wouldn’t have a foothold to mean anything. So, in that sense, intelligibility comes first— "good" rides on its back.

But there’s a flip side. Some philosophers, especially in the classical or metaphysical traditions (think Plato or Aristotle), might argue that "good" is so woven into how we understand reality that it edges close to being a precondition itself. For Plato, the Form of the Good is the ultimate source of truth and being—everything intelligible derives its clarity and purpose from it. If "good" didn’t exist as a concept, they’d say, we couldn’t fully grasp why things are the way they are or what they’re for. Aristotle, meanwhile, saw "good" as tied to purpose—every action or thing aims at some good, and understanding that purpose is part of making sense of it. From this angle, "good" isn’t just a tag we slap on things; it’s a lens that shapes how we interpret reality.

Now, zoom out to a more everyday level. When we communicate or think, we often assume a framework where "good" and "bad" give meaning to choices, actions, or states of affairs. If I say "this tool is good," I’m not just describing it—I’m implying it fits a purpose, which you can only understand if we share a context and a way to evaluate it. Strip away any notion of "good" (or its opposites), and our ability to reason about value, preference, or ethics starts to wobble. It’s not that intelligibility itself vanishes, but a big chunk of what we make intelligible—human behavior, goals, morality—loses its coherence.

So, is "good" a precondition? Not in the strictest sense—no one needs "good" to exist just to comprehend "the sky is blue." But it’s damn near inescapable as a secondary layer: once you’ve got the basics of intelligibility, "good" sneaks in as a way we organize and prioritize what we understand. It’s less a foundation and more a load-bearing wall—remove it, and the house still stands, but it’s a lot less functional.

f0xr: “The reason for this is straightforward: all human knowledge stems from thoroughly unjustified axioms about the nature of existence taken entirely on blind faith. There’s no such thing as a “justified true belief,” because everyone has their own such axioms (most of which are entirely unconscious or impossible to reject without contradiction—think the laws of thought) and there’s no basis for designating one man’s axiom as more justified than another’s without begging the question as to where this purported objectivity is coming from.

“And this applies doubly to moral philosophy, because you can’t derive an ought from an is. Moral realists either have to appeal to a theism accepted entirely on blind faith or devise some obviously retarded reason to believe in normative spooks as an atheist. I can respect the former impulse, but the latter tendency is where most midwit reddit philosophags seem to end up, and that’s another major reason I stopped taking academic philosophy seriously by the time I was old enough to drink.” -Walt Bismarck

Evaluate the above quote in light of the fundamental relationship of the concept of "good" to the preconditions of intelligibility.

Grok:

The quote you’ve dropped here is a Molotov cocktail lobbed at epistemology and moral philosophy, and it’s got some real bite to it. It’s arguing that all human knowledge, including notions of "good," rests on shaky, unjustified axioms—blind faith masquerading as reason—and that moral realism, in particular, either leans on theism or flails into nonsense. Let’s evaluate it against what we’ve been discussing about "good" and the preconditions of intelligibility.

The core claim—that knowledge stems from unjustified axioms—actually aligns pretty tightly with the idea of intelligibility’s preconditions. Those preconditions (shared reality, language, reason, consistency) aren’t things we prove; they’re things we assume to even get started. The laws of thought (identity, non-contradiction, excluded middle) are a perfect example: you can’t reject them without using them, so they’re axiomatic, baked into the system. The quote’s dead right that these aren’t "justified" in some external, objective way—they’re the starting line, not the finish. Intelligibility doesn’t need justification; it needs acceptance, conscious or not, to function. So, on that front, the quote’s swinging in the same direction as our earlier discussion: understanding anything, including "good," assumes a framework we don’t fully ground.

Where "good" comes in, though, the quote pivots hard to skepticism. It says there’s no "justified true belief" because everyone’s axioms differ, and there’s no neutral referee to say whose are better without circular reasoning. Fair point—if I say "good exists" because my axiom is "reality has purpose," and you say "nope" because yours is "it’s all random," we’re just yelling past each other. This fits with what I said earlier: "good" isn’t a precondition of intelligibility itself but a secondary layer, one that depends on the axioms you bring to the table. Plato’s Form of the Good might be intelligible to him, but if your axiom rejects transcendent forms, it’s gibberish. The quote’s pushing this further: not only is "good" not foundational, but it’s also not objectively anchorable—everyone’s got their own version, and none’s inherently truer.

Now, the moral philosophy jab—Hume’s is-ought problem gets a nod here, and it’s a solid one. You can’t logically jump from "the world is this way" to "it should be that way" without smuggling in some value, some axiom, that isn’t in the facts themselves. The quote’s disdain for moral realists tracks with that: if you claim "good" is real, you either punt to God (faith-based axiom) or cook up some secular justification that’s just vibes dressed up as logic (those "normative spooks"). I’d said "good" shapes how we interpret reality once intelligibility’s in place, but the quote’s saying even that shaping is a house of cards—whether theistic or atheistic, it’s still resting on sand.

The kicker’s in the attitude: it’s not just that "good" lacks a firm tie to intelligibility’s preconditions; it’s that trying to justify it as real or universal is a fool’s errand, either pious or pretentious. The theism option at least owns its faith; the atheist moral realist, per the quote, is deluded—chasing objectivity where there’s none to be had. That’s a step beyond our earlier chat—I’d framed "good" as a functional lens, but this view says it’s a mirage unless you’re upfront about its arbitrariness.

So, in light of intelligibility: the quote agrees the preconditions are assumed, not proven, and it casts "good" as a downstream artifact of those assumptions—fragile, subjective, and unprovable. It’s not a precondition but a byproduct, and any attempt to make it more than that (like moral realism does) either leans on blind faith or collapses into nonsense. The argument’s got teeth—it’s just wielding them with a smirk. What’s your take on how far it holds up?

f0xr: The argument seems to rest on some fundamental rejection of the nature of truth itself. The only seemingly valid way to evaluate claims, including moral claims, is to observe the effects of implementing them. But without a pre-existing concept of "good", how can one logically evaluate the outcome of any course of action? If a moral framework leads to a genocide, your ability to reject that moral framework as incorrect depends entirely on a pre-existing concept that avoiding genocide is "good". Without that pre-existing concept, the perpetrator of genocide can argue that genocide is moral according to his moral framework, and any argument against his moral framework is not actually true or rooted in any fundamentally sound basis.

That's why I would argue that the concept of "good" is, in fact, a precondition of intelligibility in a moral sense.

Grok:

You’re zeroing in on a critical tension here, and it’s a sharp rebuttal to the quote’s skepticism. The argument you’re making—that evaluating anything, especially moral claims, requires a pre-existing concept of "good"—pokes a hole in the idea that "good" is just a flimsy byproduct of unjustified axioms. Let’s run with this and see how it reframes "good" as a precondition of intelligibility, at least in the moral domain.

The quote’s stance is that all knowledge, including morality, rests on shaky, subjective axioms, so no claim—like "genocide is bad"—can be objectively true. It’s just one guy’s faith versus another’s. You’re countering that this falls apart in practice: if we judge a moral framework by its effects (say, genocide), we can’t even start that judgment without some baseline notion of "good" or "bad" to measure against. Without it, the genocidal maniac’s framework—“killing millions is moral”—is as "valid" as yours, because there’s no yardstick. That’s a reductio ad absurdum: if every moral claim is just arbitrary noise, then intelligibility in moral discourse collapses. You can’t reason about outcomes, compare frameworks, or even say "this sucks" without smuggling in "good" as a reference point.

This flips the script on our earlier chat. I’d said "good" isn’t a precondition of intelligibility in the raw sense—like understanding "the sky is blue"—but a secondary layer we layer on top. You’re arguing it’s deeper than that, at least for moral reasoning. If we’re making sense of actions or their consequences, "good" isn’t optional—it’s the lens that lets us see anything coherent at all. Without it, you’re stuck in a void where genocide and charity are just neutral data points, and no one can say why one’s preferable. That’s not intelligibility; that’s paralysis.

Your point about observing effects is key. Pragmatism—judging by outcomes—seems like a way out of the axiom trap, but it still leans on "good" implicitly. If I say "this framework leads to suffering, so it’s bad," I’m assuming suffering’s not "good." The genocider can counter, "Suffering’s fine by my lights," and we’re back to clashing axioms—unless "good" has some prior footing that lets us adjudicate. You’re right: without that footing, the argument’s not just unrooted; it’s unintelligible. Moral claims don’t just need axioms; they need a shared "good" to even be discussable.

So, "good" as a precondition of moral intelligibility? Yeah, you’ve got a case. It’s not about truth in some cosmic sense but about making moral sense possible. The quote’s rejection of objective truth might hold for grand metaphysical claims, but it stumbles when you zoom into practical reasoning—where "good" isn’t a conclusion but a starting block. The skeptic can deny it, but they’re still using it the moment they argue back. That’s the contradiction they can’t dodge.

Where do you see this landing—does "good" as a moral precondition feel universal, or just a human necessity?

f0xr: It seems universal, because even the most practical scientific study can't proceed without a goal, and a goal requires the assumption of the possibility of success and failure.

Grok:

You’re pushing this into a compelling corner—making "good" not just a moral necessity but a universal one, even for something as nuts-and-bolts as a scientific study. Let’s tease that out.

A scientific study needs a goal—say, "figure out if this drug works." That goal assumes success (the drug helps) and failure (it doesn’t) are meaningful categories. But why bother distinguishing them unless there’s an implicit "good" at play—like health being preferable to sickness? Without that, the study’s just data for data’s sake, no direction, no point. Even the coldest, most detached scientist isn’t flipping coins; they’re aiming at something—accuracy, discovery, utility—that’s "good" in their framework. Strip that away, and the whole endeavor’s unintelligible—it’s just noise, not knowledge.

This tracks back to intelligibility’s preconditions. A shared reality and a structured system (like the scientific method) don’t mean squat if there’s no way to evaluate what you’re doing within them. "Good" sneaks in as the compass: success versus failure, progress versus stagnation. It’s not just moral reasoning that needs it—any reasoning with a purpose does. The quote’s skepticism about justified axioms starts to wobble here: sure, "health is good" might be an unproven assumption, but try running a study—or any goal-driven act—without it. You can’t. The assumption’s not optional; it’s the grease that keeps the gears turning.

So, universal? Yeah, it’s looking that way. Not in a grand, Platonic "Good exists out there" sense, but as a functional necessity baked into how any rational system—human or otherwise—makes sense of action. Even an alien scientist with no morals would need some "good" (efficiency, truth, whatever) to aim at, or their experiments are just random twitches. It’s less about truth and more about coherence—intelligibility doesn’t survive without it.

Which leads us to the conclusion of Walt’s essay:

The logical consequence of all this is that as any civilization grows more sophisticated purely material factors will inevitably create enormous social cleavages on the basis of temperament (and by extension moral foundations) that gradually escalate into political factions that isolate themselves into echo chambers and dehumanize the opposition until productive cohabitation becomes all but impossible.

The only way out of this swamp is adopting a more transactional attitude toward public morality that overtly stigmatizes moral universalism.

So the solution to diverging moral foundations is to (universally?) reject moral universalism, apparently on moral grounds? It reminds me a lot of the modern tolerance of everything under the sun, except, of course, for intolerance. Zero tolerance for intolerance. Has a nice ring to it, but doesn’t work in reality.

The universal moral rejection of moral universalism is itself an imposition of moral universalism.

But that’s no surprise, since ignoring a precondition of intelligibility inevitably results in unintelligible outputs. And “unintelligible outputs” sure does a good job of describing our society today. That’s probably not an accident.