Four “Attribution” emotions relating to the attribution of responsibility for actions are presented as the emotion types that emerge from praising or blaming oneself or some other agent for some action. The intensity of these “Pride” and “Self-reproach” emotions, and “Admiration” and “Reproach” emotions is influenced by the perceived praiseworthiness (including its converse, blameworthiness) of the agent’s action and the degree to which it is seen as being incongruous, that is, as deviating from what might be expected of such an agent in such a situation. The notion of a cognitive unit is used to explain such facts as that people can be proud of the actions of other people. Also covered are four Compound emotions that result from focusing on both an agent’s action and its outcome at the same time. These emotion types include what are referred to as “Gratitude,” “Anger,” “Self-satisfaction,” and “Self-anger” emotions, with the first of these, for example, being characterized as a positive feeling about someone else’s praiseworthy action and the associated desirable event.

There are better and worse ways to blame others. Likewise, there are better and worse ways to blame yourself. And though there is an ever-expanding literature on the norms that govern our blaming practices, relatively little attention has been paid to the norms that govern expressions of self-blame. In this chapter, I argue that when we blame ourselves, we ought not do so privately. Rather, we should, ceteris paribus, express our self-blame to those we have wronged. I then explore how this norm can contribute to our understanding of the ethics of self-blame as well as the nature of blameworthiness itself.

The literature on moral responsibility is ripe with accounts of what it takes for an agent to become blameworthy. By contrast, very little has been written about what it takes for an agent’s blameworthiness to cease or diminish. It seems that there are certain things a wrongdoer can feel or do that might make her less blameworthy than she would otherwise have been. She might experience guilt, atone, apologize, and make reparations. In this chapter, I will argue that prominent accounts of blameworthiness are unable to explain how such actions and emotions can influence one’s blameworthiness. I will then present an alternative account. If we understand blameworthiness in terms of deserved guilt rather than fitting resentment, we can give a plausible account of how blameworthiness can change over time. The fact that a wrongdoer has already experienced guilt, atoned, or apologized will make her less deserving of guilt, and therefore less blameworthy.

Let F be a fact in virtue of which an agent, s, is blameworthy for performing an act of A-ing. We argue for the following three theses (with slight qualification of the first):

• (Reason) F is (at some time) a reason for s to feel guilty (to some extent) for A-ing;

• (Desert) s’s having this reason suffices for s’s deserving to feel guilty for A-ing; and

• (Ground) what grounds s’s deserving to feel guilty for A-ing is simply what grounds that feeling’s being a fitting response by s to her A-ing.

In light of these theses, we address several claims that have been made regarding responsibility and desert. We take issue with the divorce of desert from responsibility. We find acceptable a claim regarding blameworthiness and reason to induce guilt, and we defend the idea that it is non-instrumentally good that one who is blameworthy be subject to a fitting feeling of guilt. Finally, we argue against a view on which desert of blame has a teleological dimension.

Central cases of moral blame suggest that blame presupposes that its target deserves to feel guilty, and that if one is blameworthy to some degree, one deserves to feel guilt to a corresponding degree. This, some think, is what explains why being blameworthy for something presupposes having had a strong kind of control over it: only given such control is the suffering involved in feeling guilt deserved. This chapter argues that all this is wrong. As evidenced by a wider range of cases, blame doesn’t presuppose that the target deserves to feel guilt and doesn’t necessarily aim at the target’s suffering in recognition of what they have done. On the constructive side, the chapter offers an explanation of why, in many cases of moral blameworthiness, the agent nevertheless does deserve to feel guilt. The explanation leans on a general account of moral and non-moral blame and blameworthiness and a version of the popular idea that moral blame targets agents’ objectionable quality of will. Given the latter idea, the morally blameworthy have harmed the standing of some person or value, giving rise to obligations to give correspondingly less relative weight to their own standing, and so, sometimes, to their own suffering.

Legal scholars often prescind to moral philosophy to try to solve legal puzzles or paradoxes and to shape the positive law by reference to the seemingly pure and uncluttered lessons derived from within first-order moral theory. This chapter aims to do something quite close to the opposite. By looking at the structure of negligence law and certain concepts within it and by exhibiting their principled bases, it generates possible solutions to some of the problems about negligence that have troubled moral philosophers. These include: whether conduct that would ordinarily be called “negligent” can qualify as a breach of moral duty even if it was solely the product of inadvertence; whether it matters to the blameworthiness of a negligent actor that her conduct caused no harm; and whether a person whose negligent conduct is purely a product of inadvertence can properly be blamed or held responsible for injuring another. In the domain of negligence law, which contains “negligence,” “duty,” and “legal responsibility” in the form of legal liability, the answer to all three analogous questions is emphatically “yes,” and tort law explains why. Moving back to moral questions, we see our way to defensible answers to those questions and we also see why the questions present themselves as so difficult.

According to the Doctrine of Doing and Allowing, there is a moral difference between doing something and allowing it to occur. Its defenders and critics both assume the existence of an ontological difference that the purported moral difference is said to supervene upon. This difference – between so-called positive acts of doing and negative acts of not-doing – was famously introduced by Gilbert Ryle, who argued that the latter (which include neglect) were not really actions at all. He is opposed by Davidsonians who, by contrast, maintain that negative act tokens are just positive acts under negative characterisations. In this chapter, I argue that both the moral and the metaphysical debates rest on the mistaken belief that actions and/or their characterisations can be neatly divided into those that are positive and those that are negative. I use a wide range of examples to demonstrate how all action contains inaction, and vice versa. Moreover, ontological perceptions of what is positive and what is negative cannot be neatly separated from evaluative ones. None of this entails that there can never be any moral difference between doing x and allowing x to happen. But it is not one that can be captured by any principle, not least because any given instance of doing x will involve the not-doing of some other thing (a, b, or c …), and any case of of allowing x to happen will be inseparable from doing some such other thing, where the doing of a involved in allowing x may be morally worse than the allowing of a which occurs in doing x. I conclude that the Bhagavad Gita is right in proclaiming that the ability to reliably perceive one’s action in inaction, and vice versa, eludes us.

In this chapter I apply the view of psychopathy developed in Chapter 2, to the account of moral responsibility as responsiveness to reasons developed in Chapter 1. I begin by considering the question of what reactive attitudes, if any, we should hold towards psychopaths, engaging with arguments by Piers Benn and Patricia Greenspan. I then turn to the question of whether psychopaths are responsive to reasons. I argue that evidence of psychopaths’ reasoning impairments, including those suggested by the famous ‘moral/conventional distinction’ experiments carried out by James Blair, may be enough to call into question the reasons-responsiveness of some psychopaths, but that other, even ‘hard-core’ psychopaths, may not exhibit such deficiencies. However, I argue that these psychopaths, though not oblivious to reasons, may be impervious to them, that is, unable to recognise them as reasons which bear on their own choices. I then argue that the specific reasons to which these psychopaths are impervious are reasons stemming from the rights, interests and concerns of other people, and that they are impervious to them because they are unable to see other people as sources of value.

The aim of the chapter is to develop an understanding of what moral responsibility is, so that this can, in later chapters, be applied to the case of the psychopath. I begin by distinguishing moral responsibility from other senses of responsibility, including causal, virtue, and obligation responsibility, and elucidate the various connections between these senses. I then consider the relationship between moral responsibility, praiseworthiness and blameworthiness, and the range of phenomena for which it is possible to be morally responsible. Next, I proceed to consider two major theories of moral responsibility: the Strawsonian ‘reactive attitudes’ account and the ‘reasons-responsiveness’ account. I consider the advantages and disadvantages of these, and their ability to account for a range of cases. Finally, I argue for an account adapted from R. Jay Wallace’s version of reasons-responsiveness.