I asked Grok 3. Interesting.

Is there a better moral theory than Stefan Molyneux's universally Preferable Behavior?

Stefan Molyneux’s Universally Preferable Behavior (UPB) aims to establish a rational, secular framework for ethics, rooted in the idea that moral rules must be universal, logically consistent, and applicable to all people at all times. It’s an ambitious attempt to ground morality without appealing to religion or subjective preferences, and it aligns closely with libertarian principles like the non-aggression principle. However, it’s not without flaws, and whether there’s a “better” moral theory depends on what you’re looking for in an ethical system—clarity, practicality, universality, or explanatory power. Let’s explore this.
UPB’s core claim is that behaviors can be deemed universally preferable if they’re logically consistent and testable, much like scientific principles. For example, Molyneux argues that actions like theft or murder can’t be morally obligatory because they lead to contradictions—like everyone stealing from everyone all the time, which would collapse the concept of property. He suggests this proves such actions are universally not preferable. Critics, though, point out that this approach often conflates logical consistency with moral necessity. Just because something can’t be universally mandated without contradiction doesn’t automatically make its opposite a binding moral rule. It’s a clever test, but it doesn’t fully bridge the gap between “is” (what people can do) and “ought” (what they should do).
One alternative that’s often considered more robust is Immanuel Kant’s deontological ethics, particularly his Categorical Imperative. Kant argues that moral actions are those you could will to be universal laws—similar to UPB’s universality—but he grounds this in rational duty, not just logical consistency. For instance, “don’t lie” becomes a moral rule because if everyone lied all the time, trust and communication would break down, which reason can’t abide. Kant’s system is stricter and more philosophically developed than UPB, avoiding some of Molyneux’s leaps—like assuming debate itself proves a preference for truth. However, it’s also abstract and can feel detached from real-world complexities, like situational trade-offs.
Another contender is consequentialism, especially utilitarianism as developed by Jeremy Bentham and refined by John Stuart Mill. This theory judges actions by their outcomes—maximizing happiness or minimizing suffering for the greatest number. Unlike UPB, which struggles to justify why universality alone makes something moral, utilitarianism offers a clear metric: well-being. It’s practical and flexible, handling edge cases (e.g., lying to save a life) better than UPB’s rigid framework. The downside? It can justify morally questionable acts—like sacrificing one person for the many—if the numbers add up, which rubs against intuitive notions of justice.
Virtue ethics, rooted in Aristotle, takes a different tack. It focuses on character—cultivating traits like courage, honesty, and compassion—rather than rules or outcomes. It’s less about universal mandates (like UPB) and more about what makes a good human life. This approach excels in personal development and contextual nuance but lacks the clear-cut objectivity Molyneux seeks, making it harder to apply universally across all people and situations.
Each of these has strengths UPB lacks. Kant’s system is more philosophically rigorous, utilitarianism is more outcome-oriented, and virtue ethics is more holistic. UPB’s appeal is its simplicity and secular libertarian bent, but it falters in depth and justification. Critics argue it smuggles in assumptions—like equating biological preferences (e.g., breathing) with moral ones—or misapplies universality, as not all moral dilemmas need a one-size-fits-all rule. For example, UPB’s handling of rape (if it’s good, everyone must do it all the time, which is impossible) oversimplifies a complex issue into a strawman.
So, is there a “better” theory? If you value logical rigor and universality, Kant’s deontology might edge out UPB. If you prioritize practical consequences, utilitarianism could be your pick. If you’re after a richer, life-focused ethic, virtue ethics stands strong. UPB isn’t the worst—it’s creative and bold—but it’s not the gold standard either. It’s more a stepping stone than a summit. What do you think matters most in a moral theory? That might point you to the best fit.

What if the ought isn't just what you must do, but more about what you universally must NOT do. That is clear and helpful isn't it?

Framing morality as what you universally must not do—rather than what you must do—does bring a certain clarity and simplicity that can be appealing. It shifts the focus from prescribing specific actions to setting boundaries, which feels less intrusive and more universally enforceable. Think of it like a moral version of the Hippocratic “do no harm”: instead of dictating every step, it marks the lines you don’t cross. That’s intuitive for a lot of people—don’t steal, don’t kill, don’t lie—and it aligns with how we often experience ethics in practice, as guardrails rather than a roadmap.
This approach could refine something like Molyneux’s UPB by sidestepping its weaker spots. Rather than arguing what’s “preferable” (which can get murky—preferable to whom? why?), you’re identifying what’s universally prohibited. For instance, “don’t initiate violence” works because if everyone did it all the time, society would implode—logical contradiction, clear boundary, done. It’s less about proving a positive duty (e.g., “you must help others”) and more about ruling out actions that can’t coexist with a functional moral system. That’s helpful because it avoids overreach and sticks to what’s objectively testable: can this action be universalized without breaking everything?
It also vibes with libertarian instincts—minimize coercion, maximize freedom within limits—which might explain why it feels clear to you. The “must not” framework doesn’t demand much beyond agreement on a few core no-nos, leaving room for personal choice elsewhere. Compare that to Kant’s Categorical Imperative, which can feel heavy-handed with its rational-duty vibe, or utilitarianism, which might greenlight weird trade-offs (e.g., “okay, you can harm one if it saves ten”). A “universal must not” approach keeps it lean: don’t do X, and we’re good.
But it’s not flawless. Defining the “must nots” still requires some groundwork—why these prohibitions and not others? “Don’t steal” seems obvious, but what about “don’t lie”? If universal lying only breaks trust (not society itself), is it truly a must-not, or just a nice-to-avoid? You’d need a principle to filter which actions make the cut—logical contradiction helps, but it might not cover all moral gray areas (e.g., neglecting someone in need isn’t contradictory, just cold). And it’s less equipped for positive virtues—courage, generosity—since it’s all about negatives. That could leave it feeling incomplete if you think morality should inspire, not just restrain.
Still, as a minimalist take, it’s got legs. It’s clear because it’s narrow—fewer rules, less ambiguity. It’s helpful because it’s actionable—don’t cross this line, and you’re in the clear. It could even patch up UPB’s gaps by ditching the “preferable” fluff for a sharper “prohibited” focus. Does that match what you’re getting at, or do you see it playing out differently?