When all is said and done, perhaps the problem nagging all forms of eudaimonistic virtue or perfectionist ethics within the Aristotelian tradition might be the problem of “big morality.” Given the focus in such theories upon the agent's own flourishing, one wonders whether this type of ethics can ever capture moral experience that seems to be “global” in proportions. Here we might be thinking of something like an evil so great, it does not seem possible to appreciate its depth by saying that it results from a “failing to flourish,” or that it exemplifies actions which “impede flourishing.” The examples of Hitler, Stalin, or Mao come to mind. The horrific nature of their actions is so profoundly devastating that it seems almost insulting to our moral sensibilities to think that the depth of their evil can be measured by reference to a lack of flourishing. The reverse may hold as well. There could be some moral goods that go beyond what seems necessary to support or even encourage flourishing of particular individuals or groups of them. Perhaps Jesus, Socrates, or some other saint-like person in one's pantheon of moral exemplars would come to mind in this connection. Either way, flourishing, especially when it is as individualized as we would have it in our foregoing arguments, seems somehow small when paired with the kind of evil or goodness that transcends particular circumstances and times and places.

The problem of big morality thus resurrects the old charge leveled against eudaimonistic ethical theories that, by not appreciating the other and by being too focused upon the self, they are too narrow. Various ethical theorists in the eudaimonistic tradition, including ourselves, have given responses to this charge; and these responses are, in their own way, no doubt adequate and successful. But with big morality, there seems to be a remainder. Yes, sociality is both necessary and important for flourishing, but we are talking here about deeds that go beyond the encouragement or destruction of sociality. Eudaimonistic theories may be adequate for ordinary moral discourse, but that's precisely the problem: How well do they really do with the extraordinary?