Emotivism is a theory of morality that states that all moral judgements that we make are not in fact actual attempts at moral truth, but rather are expressions of our emotional states and biases. For instance, if I were to say "Putting an infant into a blender is wrong," what I am really communicating is the feeling of disgust, or horror, or fear, or any number of other emotions that run through my head when I picture blending up a child. Emotivism states that we can never really get at any objective moral truth- the feelings that govern our mind are responsible for what moral facts we think we believe, and because of that it is silly to treat supposed moral knowledge as anything other than an emotional response. However, as many of you may have already noticed, there is a critical flaw in this line of reasoning.
Now, there is an element of reason in what was just spoken- emotions do indeed govern a great deal of our thoughts. Furthermore, I would argue most moral statements do indeed come from a place of almost entirely emotion. This is consistent with the ideas that have already been explored on this site about rationalization, and indeed bottom-lining; if I first say that "Siphoning gas out of someone's car while driving next to them is morally acceptable" because I'm running low on gas, and have just thought of this particularly clever idea (emotions to note- worry, fear, excitement, etc.), and then come up with a whole bunch of moral sounding reasons to justify my belief, my belief still only rests on the reasons I believed it in the first place- namely, that I was worried I would run out, or that picturing leaning out of the back window and extending a hose into the car next to me gave me a great deal of excitement. In this sense, one may see Emotivism as an extremely cynical branch of moral philosophy that states that all moral statements are a product of bottom-lining.
"But wait!" you say. "Sure, in this world-so-devoid-of-rationality many may have a hard time not bottom-lining, especially when it comes to such charged topics as morality. But that doesn't mean that every moral claim ever made was made in the throes of emotion! After all, haven't there been countless moral philosophers who developed philosophies the right way round? Started from a few principles, and built things up from there? Or better yet, were just genuinely curious?" And yes, this is clearly true. Kant is a clear example of a philosopher who did not start with a bottom line; 'one should never lie'; but rather from a more general principle; "Act only according to that maxim whereby you can at the same time will that it should become a universal law." The moral theories that were thereby developed were no more developed from emotion than the middle lines of a proof are- once that first axiom is accepted, the rest follows logically.
Furthermore, although I have seen very few discussions about morality on this site, there is a common theme of 'good guys' and 'bad guys,' or even more clearly 'the enemy.' Sometimes in these contexts the 'good guys' are just a proxy for the reader- but more often, and certainly more interestingly, 'good' is the side of truth and reason (reason pointing towards the truth), and 'evil' is the enemy of the truth. 'The enemy' opposes the truth. This framework, similar to Kant's Categorical Imperative, starts from a simple axiom; "truth is good, the opposite of truth is evil" and from there extrapolates a near moral system of reasoning. Once you know that 'truth is good,' actions that take you to that truth more often than not are 'right,' and actions that seem unlikely to reach the truth are 'wrong.' In this way, rationality may be seen as a moral good.
So is that it, then, for Emotivism? A doomed philosophy that makes good predictions some of the time (or, perhaps, most of the time- one need only read a small amount of internet discourse on moral philosophy to see a surplus of bottom-lining), and yet fails for any sort of actual and honest philosophical inquiry? Well, although one could argue that emotion is involved in the extrapolation-from-axioms process (one chooses which ideas to extrapolate, after all) the end results are still backed up by a pretty convincing chain of reasoning. The only reasonable place to attack, as it is with any axiom based system, is the axioms themselves.
Emotivism postulates that since we experience the world through our emotions, our thoughts cannot originate without them. Under this lens, we might ask from where does come the axiom "truth is good?" While some axioms may come more directly from the mind, I would argue that "truth is good" is ALSO and extrapolation from even more simple postulates; namely, 'want.' I have often seen it said here that 'rationality is winning'; and indeed, from that alone we can get to "truth is good." If truth is what is, and we wish to interact with what is (an integral part of winning, I think), then we are likely better suited with the truth than without it. And here perhaps Emotivism strikes its first convincing blow; for if we hold the belief that "truth is good" because we wish to be effective in ourselves and in our lives, then we have in fact been ethically bottom-lining; 'I will do what is most effective for myself' is already written, and whatever consequences that this has are the consequences that shall be.
If you have followed me so far (and I know that you may have not- but perhaps what follows will hold your interest all the same), you may now think; "this is not a bottom line in the way that 'the moon is made of cheese' is a bottom line, in that it still invites discourse!" But indeed 'the moon is made of cheese,' for all that it is a bottom line, is as well an axiom one could take, and then from there ask questions and find answers. One might say; "Well, since the moon is grey in the sky, why the cheese must have gone bad and be now covered in mold!"
Now, those of you who hold yourselves to altruism might say that rationalism in the way that is is talked about here is not 'I will do what is most effective for myself;' but rather 'I will do what is most effective for X,' where X is any number of goals one might have. Of course, in practice, this translates roughly to 'I will do what I THINK is most effective for X,' or just 'I will do what I THINK is most effective;' but perhaps this difference is not so important, as the goal spoken is to move what 'I think' to 'what is.' In either case, 'I will do what is most effective for X,' is still a bottom line already written; and in many cases, is even worse than 'I will do what is most effective for myself.' The self motivates itself via wants, at least- 'I will do what is most effective for the prosperity of the world' relies upon a line already written; 'the prosperity of the world is good,' which can easily be traced back to positive emotions associated with prosperity. Indeed, the motivation from 'I will do what is most effective for myself' comes seemingly similarly from positive emotions associated with the self doing what is most effective.
From there, the path forwards is obvious. If we are at the whims of our emotions, then we can do little but serve them, wherever they point us. Being here means that at the very least, you have gotten lucky enough to be curious enough to question the self. The line of reasoning presented above suggests that if indeed curiosity is what is needed to break the loop of being at the whim of our emotions, we can maintain that break by choosing our emotions. Thankfully, research suggests that our emotions, just like our rationality, while not completely under our absolute control, are well under our influence.
As a brief exercise, we can create happiness in ourselves (although fleeting, perhaps) through the following process. Think of a recent good memory- perhaps a meaningful conversation, where someone really listened to you, and heard what you were trying to say; or perhaps a challenge that you recently overcame. Think about how it felt in that moment, and as you do, let yourself smile. Feel the warmth of the joy as it washes over, through, and past you. And say; 'in this moment, I choose joy.'
There are many ways we can influence our emotions, but it turns out that even acknowledging a want to feel a certain way, or envisioning what you would be doing or thinking were you to be feeling a certain emotion are excellent starts. Just as with any facet of rationality, learning to influence your emotions is a muscle that must be trained, and one that grows stronger with time. It has the additional advantage of making life a large bit more comfortable, as well; after all, if one can experience a loss and let the sadness pass through them, feel the waves of grief as they come, and let them through; why, the loss is far more bearable.
And as a final thought, if curiosity is indeed the most powerful emotion practically (and indeed it seems it may be; although I have found similar motivation from love, fear, and boredom), and if we need it not only passively, but repeatedly, then being able to generate it on command would serve us extremely well. Even if you have disagreed with every point I have made up to this one, the ability to generate curiosity seems unreasonably helpful in nearly any context related to rationality