The language of “good” and “evil” is among the oldest tools in our moral kit. Strikingly, though, it is also among the least examined once we step outside its own echo chamber. Thinkers as different as Kant and Nietzsche fought over whether these terms refer to something real or whether they are largely inventions—useful, perhaps, for rhetoric more than for genuine explanation. Oddly enough, most of that debate remains confined to the theoretical. What tends to be missing is attention to the way the words themselves actually function when people face the hard edge of survival, distribution of resources, or collective policy choices. This paper presses on that gap. It begins in the usual place—metaethical disputes about realism and skepticism, about whether theology can still ground morality or whether its absence leaves us with incoherence—but quickly moves into less comfortable terrain: scarcity dilemmas. Hardin’s lifeboat ethics, Sen’s studies of famine, and recent arguments about climate responsibility (with Caney, Keohane, and Victor in view) are not treated here as curiosities but as stress-tests. And in each test, I argue, the old binaries collapse precisely where they ought to matter most. “Good” and “evil” are, in practice, either too blunt or too bloated to guide decisions under pressure. In place of the binary, I propose a kind of moral ecology, drawing on MacIntyre, Williams, and others, that is built around thicker concepts—reckless, courageous, unjust, negligent. These are not simplifiers but terms that breathe, words that track the grain of context rather than shave it flat. My claim is not that ethics must be abandoned but that we do better without the exhausted binary. The case shows itself most clearly in famine relief, in climate debates, and even in that imagined lifeboat.
Rohan Renny (Mon,) studied this question.