If you think the subtle differences between different schools of thought and subtypes of ethics can sometimes amount to minor semantic differences, or a matter of word choice, then you’re going to be very interested in the ethical concept of nominalism. It’s a doctrine that holds that all the agreed upon terms moral philosophers use as a shorthand to describe the precise concepts of their life’s work are merely words. This doesn’t mean they mean nothing, merely that there is little to no connection between all of the concepts that govern human behavior and moral purpose and the words used to describe those things. In nominalism, concepts, terms, and universals, as we know them, exist only as the words we’ve attached to them.
In nominalism, different things that are “good” or “moral” have no relation to each other, than that they’ve both been labeled the same thing. Nominalists hold that only physical, quantifiable things can be labeled as real. Owing to the complications and inherently subjective nature of language, there thus can be no universal concepts in ethics, or at least not ones that can be universally understood in the same way by all people.
In between Platonic realism and nominalism is moderate realism. The latter holds that while there isn’t a separate realm where universal concepts reside, these concepts nonetheless are part of the fiber of our being in space and time, and they exist when they exist. This view is similar to another stopgap solution called conceptualism, which says that universals exist within the mind and not on an external or scientific plane.
Nominalism is a rational, natural response to the overriding goal—but often the problem—of moral philosophy, which is the drive to identify and define universals. Specifically, nominalism is a contrarian outgrowth of Platonic realism, the concept created by the ancient Greek philosopher Plato. In that theory, abstract ideas—such as universal moral truths—do, in fact, exist; and they do so in their own right and are independent of the physical world or humanity’s adoption of them. Nominalists may ask exactly what this overriding universal might be and where it is. As this universal doesn’t hold up to rational scrutiny, or definition, nominalists are quite skeptical that it exists. And if the universal doesn’t exist, neither do its truths. This means that all truths are suspect, simply because the universal cannot be identified, quantified, or explained in an objective, scientific way.
Nominalism is actually quite old, as far as moral philosophy goes. It was likely the creation of a medieval French philosopher and theologian named Roscelin of Compiègne, who lived from ca. 1050 to 1125, along with one of his most prominent students, Peter Abelard (1079–1142). He was also a poet and musician and is one half of the famous doomed love story of Heloise and Abelard.
“The key to wisdom is this—constant and frequent questioning, for by doubting we are led to question, and by questioning we arrive at the truth.” —Peter Abelard
Abelard is regarded as the dominant philosopher of the twelfth century, as well as the greatest logician of his era. He advocated for using reason in all thoughts and actions, especially and most notably in matters of faith. He’s regarded as the first theologian (someone who uses academic principles and rigorous criteria to analyze religious doctrines, texts, and other matters of faith). For example, Abelard held that Christianity-fueled morality had at its center a place of radical intentionalism (the agent’s intention, and that alone, determines the moral worth of an action). He was anti-consequence because of a concept he called “moral luck.” An example he used to illustrate this concept involved two rich men who each intend to build a poorhouse. But one rich man is robbed, and only the other rich man opens his shelter. To say there is a moral difference between the two men is “insanity,” Abelard declared. The deeds themselves, Abelard held, were devoid and neutral in terms of morality. But the agent was subject to evaluation, and the only possible way to do that was to look at their intentions. Thus, they were both morally correct, even though only one followed through with the plan; the robbed man was “lucky” in that he didn’t have to do the actual work of building the poorhouse, but he still got credit for being a decent man.