OpenHikma
Sign in
Library

Ethics and Politics: Why the Blanket Question Is the Wrong One

A. Fanaei · August 29, 2026 · 9 min read

Over the past while, I've watched a number of Iranian thinkers, intellectuals, and journalists debate whether ethics has any business in politics at all. Most of them frame it as a yes-or-no question. I think that framing is the mistake. There is no single answer to "does ethics relate to politics?" — because "ethics" isn't one thing, and neither, in the relevant sense, is the question. Some kinds of ethics have every right to govern political decision-making. Other kinds have no business there at all. Once you separate the kinds, most of the apparent disagreement dissolves.

A Question About Politics, Not Inside It

The first thing to notice is that "how should ethics relate to politics?" is not itself an ethical or a political question. It's a step above both — a meta-ethical, meta-political question. Neither ethics nor politics gets to settle it from the inside, because the question is precisely about how these two domains stand toward each other. This is different from the ordinary moral questions that arise within politics — what a politician owes citizens, what counts as a just law. Those are first-order questions. Ours is second-order, and it logically comes first.

It also matters whether we're asking this sociologically or philosophically. Sociology can tell us how ethics and politics have, in fact, related to one another in some society at some time — a purely descriptive matter, and no ought follows from it. What I want to examine is the normative question: how ought these two institutions to relate? That's a philosophical question, and it's the one this piece is about.

Everyone Already Agrees Politics Has Oughts

Here's something both sides of this debate already accept, even if they don't notice it: political beliefs, political decisions, and political behavior are all subject to *some* set of oughts and ought-nots. Nobody thinks politics is a normative void. The disagreement isn't over whether norms apply — it's over where those norms come from. Candidates on offer include law, the will of citizens, religion, the will of a ruler or ruling class, national interest, sheer preservation of power — and ethics.

Views that deny ethics a role in politics are usually proposing one of these other sources as ethics' replacement. But look closely and they don't actually abolish ethical considerations — they just subordinate them. Human rights, for instance, don't disappear on these views; they get made conditional on law, or national interest, or preserving the system. My own view runs the relation the other way: these other considerations — law, national interest, system preservation, even religious rulings — are legitimate only within the framework of ethics, not the reverse. When national interest collides with justice, justice wins. When preserving a system requires trampling basic rights, the system has no claim to survive — no moral legitimacy, and, since ethics precedes both religion and politics, no religious or political legitimacy either, however much popular support it enjoys.

This is, incidentally, exactly the structure behind political secularism, properly understood. Secularism doesn't deny that religion and politics have historically been entangled — that's a sociological fact. It denies that they *ought* to be normatively fused, and the underlying argument is that ethics has first claim on politics, which means religion can enter political life only within ethics' framework, never as its replacement. And this restriction isn't aimed at religion specifically. The same logic blocks any ideology — secular or religious — from displacing ethics in the political sphere.

The Ethics That Belongs in Politics — and the Kinds That Don't

So which ethics gets this authority? Not just any ethics. I'd describe the politically relevant ethics as normative, social, trans-religious, minimalist, contextualist, and deontological while still attentive to foreseeable consequences. That's a mouthful, but each qualifier is doing real work, and each one has a rejected alternative.

**Normative, not descriptive.** Every regime and every politician operates by some set of oughts they actually follow — that's descriptive ethics, a branch of sociology. It tells you nothing about whether those oughts are any good. When I say ethics relates to politics, I mean the ethics of how things *ought* to be, examined by moral philosophy, not the ethics of how things happen to be, examined by anthropology.

**Social, not individual.** Individual ethics governs a person's duties toward himself; social ethics governs how people and institutions relate to one another. Individual ethics can be religious or secular, but social ethics has to be neutral between them — it has to work for everyone, whatever they believe, or it fails at the one job it has. This distinction has real teeth: a state has no right to turn its rulers' individual-ethical convictions into law and force them on others, however sincerely held. Making the hijab obligatory and making its removal obligatory are the same error twice over — obligation belongs to individual ethics, compulsion is a matter for social ethics, and social ethics forbids it. The golden rule captures the logic precisely: don't impose your accepted ethics on others by force any more than you'd want them imposing theirs on you — even if you're the majority. Imam Ali (AS) states this in Nahj al-Balaghah: "It suffices for the discipline of your own self that you avoid doing to others what you dislike having done to you."

**Trans-religious, not religious.** Religious ethics is a subset of a broader, trans-religious ethics, not a rival to it. Part of what religion teaches morally just ratifies principles — justice, kindness, aiding the needy — that already belong to trans-religious ethics. Another part builds new duties by combining those trans-religious principles with religious belief: gratitude toward God, say, builds on a prior, non-religious principle of gratitude generally. The upshot is that religious people have every right to bring their convictions into public life — but only within the bounds of trans-religious ethics, never as a substitute for it. And to be clear, this constraint isn't special pleading against religion: secular ideologies face exactly the same limit.

**Minimal, not maximal.** Justice is the floor of social ethics; love, forgiveness, and self-sacrifice are its ceiling. Politics can be held to the floor but not fairly demanded to scale the ceiling. A state dealing with other states that pursue naked self-interest has the right to reciprocate in kind rather than sacrifice its own interests unilaterally — that's consistent with minimal ethics (justice permits proportionate reciprocity) even if it falls short of maximal ethics (forgiveness, self-sacrifice). When Arab states foreground Arab identity, there's nothing wrong, on this basis, with Iran foregrounding Iranian identity in return — nationalism becomes objectionable only once one side is willing to relate on some other basis and the other refuses. Reciprocity in kind is justice; going beyond it becomes its own injustice.

**Contextualist, not absolutist.** Some moral principles bend with circumstance; "an expedient lie is better than a truth that stirs up strife" captures that thought. But this isn't relativism. Relativism says the verdict changes because the person or culture changes — bad for me, fine for you, just because we're different. Contextualism says the verdict changes because morally relevant features of the *situation* change — saving an innocent life, for instance, not the mere fact that it's me or you doing the saving. That's an important guardrail, because rulers have a nasty habit of claiming their "station" entails a different ethics than the one that binds everyone else — as though power itself were a context that rewrites morality. That's not contextualism; it's relativism dressed up, and it deserves no more credibility from a position of power than anywhere else. Note too that a principle can be absolute while what it *requires* still shifts with context — the principle of justice doesn't change, but what counts as just may differ across economic or historical settings. Only some principles are context-sensitive, not all of them, and justice, notably, isn't one that bends.

**Deontological, but consequence-aware.** Consequentialism says an act's moral status reduces entirely to its outcomes — nothing about the act itself matters independent of what it produces. Utilitarianism, the dominant version, narrows this further to a single currency: pleasure or happiness. The trouble is that on this view, human rights can never be more than instrumentally valuable — good only insofar as respecting them produces more pleasure than violating them would, and expendable the moment the arithmetic runs the other way. That collides with the plain moral intuition that rights bind us regardless of the tally. Some try to rescue the position by speaking of "utilitarianism within the framework of human rights," but that's actually a version of deontology wearing utilitarian clothing — because deontology, unlike consequentialism, can pluralistically accommodate both intrinsic duties and morally relevant consequences without contradiction. That's exactly the shape I want: duties that don't reduce to outcomes, but that also don't ignore the foreseeable outcomes of political action. A deontology blind to consequences, and a consequentialism blind to duties that outrun consequences, are both unfit for politics.

Belief Is Not Exempt Either

One more distinction gets missed constantly: the ethics of belief versus the ethics of behavior. Political actors don't just act; they believe, and believing is itself a voluntary, evaluable act with its own moral rules. A politician has no right to ground political convictions in wishful thinking, conspiracy theory, or what I'd call enemy-worship — letting a real or imagined adversary's claims become the yardstick of truth, so that whatever the enemy says, you reflexively invert. This means the question of ethics and politics actually splits into two: what governs political belief, and what governs political decision and action. Much of the commentary on this topic never gets past the second question, and simply forgets the first.

Where This Leaves the Debate

Put all of this together and the apparent dispute over whether ethics relates to politics turns out, in most cases, to be a dispute about which ethics. Descriptive ethics, individual ethics, religious ethics as such, maximal ethics, absolutist ethics, consequence-blind deontology, and duty-blind consequentialism — none of these belongs at the center of political life, and I don't think anyone who examines them closely would insist otherwise. But normative, social, trans-religious, minimal, contextualist, consequence-aware deontological ethics is a different matter entirely: this is the ethics that has the standing to judge law, national interest, religious rulings, and the preservation of power alike, and to override any of them when they conflict with justice. Most of those who deny any connection between ethics and politics have, I think, simply failed to draw these distinctions — and ended up denying far more than they meant to.

By A. Fanaei