1) The use of non-explicitly themed methods

While axiology has not yet emerged as an autonomous discipline, it is evident that the questioning of values has naturally arisen in the minds of most people, perhaps even through various methods used to discern what has value and what does not.

What is peculiar about these methods is that they appear not to have been explicitly conceptualised by their users; rather, they have been employed unconsciously, as if self-evident, and consequently, they are found everywhere and nowhere.
These methods have been utilised by common sense, the doxa, and even certain philosophers—particularly those who have examined questions of the sovereign good or of values.

What I now propose to do is outline and briefly examine the methods I believe can be identified.

2) The failure of the qualitative method

The qualitative method, in attempting to establish the value of an object, involves identifying and demonstrating a particular quality we perceive in it.

For instance, someone may try to show us that Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata has great value because it evokes infinite sweetness in the soul; thus, we identify a quality in this music—'sweetness'.
However, on closer inspection, we realise we have made no progress; we have merely substituted one thing of unfounded value (the sonata) with another (sweetness)

So, we ask: why does sweetness have value? The answer might be: because it brings people serenity, and therefore happiness. Once again, we have identified a quality in what we sought—a quality whose value is still unfounded: human happiness.
If we further ask why human happiness has value, we might be told: because it is the most complex entity in Creation. At this point, we may ask our interlocutor what gives 'complexity' its value, pointing out that, at times, it is the simplest and most frailest beings that are held in higher regard.

We see, then, that the qualitative method results in an infinite regression, making it unsuitable as a foundation for values. This was already hinted at in Chapter 1, where we argued that value is distinct from quality. If this idea holds, then merely demonstrating a quality in something is futile, as we would still need to prove the value of that quality (which would only be possible if the quality itself constituted a value and inherently carried it).

Thus, when we encounter someone who loves something, we can 'afford the luxury' of granting that all qualities may indeed be present—beautiful, good, indispensable, enriching, and so forth. Yet we must add, to their astonishment: 'But does this thing have value?'

3) The failure of the self-evidence method

In this endless questioning, the search for values runs the risk of losing itself in madness. Consequently, the qualitative method seems to lead inevitably to dogmatism—that is, to the peremptory assertion that certain qualities evidently possess value. Thus, self-evidence appears to become the ultimate criterion of the qualitative approach. For example, we might be told that music has value because it brings pleasure, and that pleasure obviously has value.
What should we make of this approach, which ultimately bases axiological inquiry on self-evidence?

First of all, such an approach denies the problem of values its very nature... as a problem. If it is obvious that certain things hold specific values, then the problem of values ceases to exist. The task then becomes merely one of clarifying and classifying axiological judgments, whose truth is already accepted. The issue lies not in their truth but in secondary concerns, such as distinguishing them from other types of judgments, like logical ones.

Such an approach would reflect a researcher who has not recognised that the problem of values is genuine, who has never questioned their value judgments nor felt the existential torment of axiological inquiry, but has merely studied the issue without truly experiencing it.

More fundamentally, this stance cannot be accepted, as no self-evidence regarding values appears to be universally acknowledged.

For instance, it seems obvious that good is preferable to evil, and pleasure to pain. Yet for some, it seems obvious that getting rich by any means is good; immorality is evidently more valuable to Callicles than justice. On the other hand, it seems obvious to us that pleasure is preferable to abstinence: just ask the monks; that adventure is preferable to routine: yet do we see mass departures for expeditions to Nepal? That wealth is preferable to poverty: ask Diogenes. Some people have no interest in what is recognised by some as the ultimate expression of the human being: art, and are bored by museums and opera houses.

From this perspective, we must acknowledge that there is no self-evidence in the realm of values, as even the most cruel and absurd things will always be loved by someone. The problem of values cannot be resolved through self-evidence, which is precisely why it constitutes a problem.

In my view, this is the essential truth of relativism as an axiological doctrine: no value judgement is self-evident. Relativism does not present itself as the movement that triumphed over objectivism, but as the movement that exposed the futility of this type of objectivism, which relied on self-evidence. This, in my opinion, is the fundamental contribution of value relativism, marking a significant advancement over dogmatic objectivism.

Some sceptics justified their suspicion of a particular argument by showing that the opposite argument could also be defended: The main basic principle of the Sceptic system is that of opposing to every proposition an equal proposition; for we believe that as a consequence of this we end by ceasing to dogmatize ¹. For my part, I contend that, for the time being, every value judgement is opposed by an equal value judgement; and it is on this basis that we refrain from dogmatism in axiology.

1. Sextus Empiricus, Outlines of Pyrrhonism, Book 1, 6