Oughts and Noughts

The concept of “ought” is a major indispensable part of philosophical inquiry. In everyday conversation, we toss around phrases like “You ought to help your friend” or things akin to it like “You shouldn’t eat my food” in debate you’ll probably hear this word more than anything else. This term is something you’re undeniably going want to know and know well. Yet, even given how straightforward it is, we still have an entire labyrinth of theoretical complexities, debates, and implications that have preoccupied philosophers for centuries.

What are “Oughts”?

To say someone “ought” to do something is to make a normative claim (a statement about what should be, rather than what is). But what exactly does this mean, and how does it help our understanding of morality, rationality, and obligation? At its essence, “ought” is a normative term, implying that someone should, must, or has reason to act in a certain way.

One of the most enduring principles tied to “ought” is the maxim “ought implies can,” (often associated with a certain philosopher who Kant 😀) This principle holds that if someone is obligated to perform an action, it must be possible for them to do so. For instance, if you’re morally required to save someone from drowning, you must have the ability to swim. If you’re physically incapable, the obligation cannot apply. This idea seems intuitive, but it’s of course not without controversy. Some argue it’s a morally plausible but not a logically necessary condition, as you can fail to do what you ought to do due to constaints in which there may be cases where obligations might persist despite impossibility.

The logic of “ought” also finds formal expression in deontic logic, a branch of philosophy that uses logical operators to analyze normative statements. Here, “O” represents obligation (“It ought to be the case that…”), “P” denotes permissibility, and “F” indicates prohibition. Yet, deontic logic is fraught with paradoxes that highlight the slippery nature of “ought.” Take the Good Samaritan Paradox: if you ought to help an injured person, does it imply the injured person ought to exist? Or consider Ross’s Paradox: from “You ought to mail the letter,” it seems to follow that “You ought to mail the letter or burn it,” a conclusion that feels absurd. These puzzles suggest that “ought” doesn’t always behave like logical necessity, challenging attempts to formalize it.

But How Do We Use “Oughts”?

In contemporary philosophy, a popular approach is to analyze “ought” in terms of reasons. To say “You ought to X” is to claim that you have the most reason to X, whether X is a moral action, a rational belief, or a prudential choice. This reasons-based framework, advanced by thinkers like Derek Parfit, and Mark Schroeder, helps make sense of conflicting obligations: if you have reasons to pursue two actions but stronger reasons for one, that’s what you ought to do. However, this approach raises its own question: what counts as a “reason”? Are reasons objective, that is, stance-independent of our feelings and desires or are they subjective, and end in some sort of desire or goal we have (e.g. Because I want to have candy I have a reason to buy candy from the story, which is my desire for candy)? This is more on the meta-ethics side which you will not see as much in debate as compared to the normative ethics side. The answer shapes how we weigh obligations and assign blame.

The debate over “ought” also touches on the tension between internalism and externalism. Internalists argue that an obligation only applies if the person is motivated to act on it, (think of Humean theories of motivation). Externalists, by contrast, maintain that obligations can exist independently of one’s desires, a view common in Kantian or objectivist ethics. This distinction matters too. For instance, can we blame someone for failing to do what they “ought” to do if they lack any motivation to act? Another layer of complexity arises when we compare categorical and hypothetical “oughts.” A categorical ought, like “You ought to be honest,” is unconditional, binding regardless of personal desires. A hypothetical ought, such as “If you want to be trusted, you ought to be honest,” depends on specific goals or conditions. Kant’s distinction between categorical and hypothetical imperatives is the baseline for this divide. These considerations shape our understanding of morality’s scope and authority.

Now supererogatory acts, like donating a kidney or risking one’s life to save a stranger, seem morally praiseworthy but not obligatory. You won’t be blamed for not doing them, yet they seem go beyond what’s required. This allows for arguments that “ought” isn’t always about maximal moral demands and can include actions that exceed obligation without mandating them.

Perhaps the most famous challenge to “ought” is David Hume’s is–ought gap, which asserts that no set of descriptive facts can logically entail a normative conclusion without a normative premise. For example, from the statement “There is suffering” how can I infer “We ought to stop suffering”? Even if I said “Suffering is bad” how would I infer the statement “We ought to stop what is bad”? It seems we cannot do so without introducing a hidden normative premise like “We ought not to do what is bad” There seems to be a serious divide between what is and what should be, such that moral claims cannot be reduced to empirical observations. (Although it is not like there haven’t been answers put forwards see Pidgens for example).

Ultimately, the concept of “ought” matters because it structures how we reason about duties, decisions, and blame. It matters for you however because it’ll be key to moving up in the debate world, if you enjoyed this read then you defintiely should read our other articles on philosophy, it’s the obligation of any good debater 😉 

Good Luck,

The Forensic Funnel Team