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by Matt Ball
Most people believe that adult humans are moral beings,
capable of acting not from instinct but rather from
a reasoned set of rules. These rules are defined as
"ethics." For most of history, the discussion
of ethics was dominated first by superstition and
later by religious doctrine, and thus largely resistant
to reasoned examination. It is only in the last few
centuries have ethics been rigorously pursued outside
of religious doctrine. Currently, even those who hold
strong religious convictions are now dependent upon
arguments from secular ethics to resolve disagreements
with people of different religious beliefs and cultures.
Likewise, most religious doctrines now accept that
their texts should be viewed critically as products,
at least in part, of human cultures. For example,
from the Bible and Torah:
When your brother is reduced to poverty and sells
himself to you, you shall not use him to work for
you as a slave.... Such slaves as you have, male
or female, shall come from the nations round about
you; from them you may buy slaves. You may also
buy the children of those who have settled and lodge
with you and such of their family as are born in
the land. These may become your property, and you
may leave them to your sons after you; you may use
them as slaves permanently.
Leviticus 25: 39-46
If a member of a Judeo-Christian religion claims
that their religious texts are an infallible guide
to morality, they would have to say that slavery is
ethically acceptable. Alternatively, if one does not
consider a religious text as the first, last, and
only word on ethics, then one is left to find another
basis for ethics. To reduce the problem of interpretation
and the prevalence of inherent prejudices, one needs
to seek a universal basis that can transcend the boundaries
of faith and culture. Seeking such a universal basis
is not necessarily at odds with religious belief;
presumably, any Creator who has given humans the ability
for rational thought and logical analysis would want
us to use this ability.
Despite the capacity for rationality, human beings
have several significant obstacles to overcome when
discussing ethics. Foremost, we have significant evolutionary
baggage which leads us to value ourselves and family
first, our tribe second, and strangers third, if we
value them at all1. Some
people call this hierarchical value system our "moral
intuition," or our "moral instinct"
-- what "feels right" is right (or
ethical). Some philosophers derive ethics from this
instinct -- intuitionism. Intuitionists may judge
ethical arguments against our intuitions and modify
these arguments so as to fit better with our intuitions.
Still other philosophers start with their intuitions
and work backwards to create some seemingly rational
basis to justify their desired conclusions.
Not everyone has the same instincts about ethics,
however, and not all instincts appear to be equally
valid. Indeed, we now widely condemn as unethical
the instincts of ordinary Americans who enslaved blacks.
And for all we know, a century from now people will
condemn our generation for instincts we may now be
uncritically harboring. As Peter Singer wrote in Practical
Ethics, "It is easy for us to criticize the prejudices
of our grandfathers, from which our fathers freed
themselves. It is more difficult to distance ourselves
from our own views, so that we can dispassionately
search for prejudices among the beliefs and values
we hold." Likewise, it's important that ethics, whenever
possible, avoid deferring to potentially prejudiced
instincts. As rational beings, we are not required
to be slaves to these instincts.
Universal Ethics
The easiest means by which to avoid our instinctive
prejudices is to take an objective, disinterested
point of view when discussing ethics. Such a point
of view is sometimes called "the point of view
of the universe" -- a view in which we empathize
with all those beings affected by our decisions. There
are many approaches one can take to simulate such
a universal viewpoint. One of the more common approaches
is called "The Original Position." Imagine yourself
as a purely rational, disembodied entity, existing
before the world comes to be. At some unknown point
in the future, you will be "incarnated"
on Earth, at which point you will take on the intellectual
and emotional characteristics of your new body. In
addition, you do not know your future IQ, your race,
your nationality, your gender, or even your species.
Behind this "veil of ignorance," you must
choose what is to be held good and bad in the world
in which you will be incarnated. Because you are self-interested,
you want to protect whatever interests you may have
in your various possible incarnations. Put another
way, a universal view like that of the Original Position
involves an "equal consideration of interests" of
all those beings one could become.
How can one think about a situation like this? What
can be said about the various beings whose lives we
could possibly lead? How can we compare their diverse
interests? One universal aspect is that every being
said to possess "interests" seems to pursue experiences
that they find desirable (pleasure) while avoiding
those that are undesirable (pain). In short, maximizing
pleasure while minimizing pain are interests held
by each individual that has the biological capacity
for having interests. Such interests appear to be
fundamental to all conscious creatures, likely the
result of evolutionary processes that used pleasure
and pain as inducements to guide behavior and learning.2
If organisms (such as bacteria, plants, and perhaps
some simpler animals like clams and some other invertebrates)
are incapable of the subjective experience of pleasure
or pain, then the rules by which one interacts with
them are irrelevant to them. You could be incarnated
as an oak tree, but the universal system of ethics
set forth would be inconsequential to you.
For sentient beings, these interests vary as widely
as the organisms do, from basic avoidance of nerve
tissue damage, to the conscious, intellectual desire
for "justice." What appears to be universal
and irreducible, however, is that many (if not all)
vertebrate animals are aware of pain and pleasure.3
Pleasure and pain thus provide a universal basis
for ethics in which the interests of diverse beings
can be compared. Knowing nothing more than this, one
can set forth a basic ethical rule for the world into
which they will be incarnated: that a conscious being's
interests in a pleasurable, painless life will be
respected as much as the comparable interests of other
beings. In short: equal consideration of interests.
Differences of Interests
It is important here to make a few notes about interests.
Equal consideration of interests does not imply equality
of treatment. Individuals have different interests
and thus require different treatment to protect these
interests. As Richard Ryder points out (using the
language of rights), "humans suffer if denied
the right to vote, so this is important for humans
but it is not so for other species. Access to eucalyptus
leaves is, however, very important for koalas, and
so the right of access to eucalyptus leaves is an
important right for them."
Not all interests are of the same intensity. As Bernard
Rollin writes: "I would not adopt as a universal
principle always favoring the "higher" animals --
for example, if the choice came down to a quick death
for the higher animal versus a slow, lingering death
for a lower animal, one should presumably choose the
death of the higher animal. This makes us realize
that we need to consider not only number of
interests, but also quality and intensity of their
satisfaction and frustration."
Similarly, our interest in finding pleasure and avoiding
pain may not be equal. It is possible for an individual
to have a variety of pleasurable experiences, but
the range of pleasures in life does not seem to match
the range of pains. What pleasures would be equivalent
to the suffering associated with paralysis, the loss
of one's sight, or the loss of one's limb? As Ryder
writes, "At its extreme, pain is more powerful
than pleasure can ever be. Pain overrules pleasure
within the individual far more effectively than pleasure
can dominate pain." This is not to say that pleasure
does not count at all, but that in general, equal
consideration of interests focuses on pain reduction.
As Singer comments in Writings on an Ethical Life:
The perspective on ourselves that we get when we
take the point of view of the universe yields as
much objectivity as we need if we are to find a
cause that is worthwhile in a way that is independent
of our own desires. The most obvious such cause
is the reduction of pain and suffering, wherever
it is to be found. This may not be the only rationally
grounded value, but it is the most immediate, pressing,
and universally agreed upon one. We know from our
experience that when pain and suffering are acute,
all other values recede into the background. If
we take the point of view of the universe, we can
recognize the urgency of doing something about the
pain and suffering of others, before we even consider
promoting (for their own sake rather than as a means
to reducing pain and suffering) other possible values
like beauty, knowledge, autonomy, or happiness.
Applications
Once we have arrived at the view of equal consideration
of interests and see that pleasure and pain form a
common currency with which to compare these interests,
we must ask what this means for our ethics. First,
it will take us to many of the conventional ethical
positions that most of us already accept -- suffering
is bad; hunger and disease should be alleviated; people
should be given personal freedoms with which to prosper;
people should not be discriminated against on the
basis of their race, gender, nationality, or other
group membership; laws should protect the interests
of the weaker against the stronger. However, our view
of equal consideration also leads us to some conclusions
that counter current conventional ethics, particularly
with regard to animals. If suffering matters, regardless
of who is suffering, then much of our current
treatment of animals is unjustifiable. For instance,
we may gain some pleasure from eating a hamburger.
However, equal consideration of interests makes us
put ourselves in the place of a cow as well as in
the place of the hamburger-eater. Does the pleasure
of eating a hamburger outweigh the pain we would endure
to be killed for that hamburger? We would probably
conclude that the interest in not being slaughtered
is stronger than the pleasure gained by eating a hamburger.
Objections4
The universality of this "equal consideration of
interests" theory of ethics is straightforward. What
is important is determined only by the nature of those
affected by decisions. The sole logical, rational,
and reasonable manner for building a truly universal
ethic is by including everything.
Yet instincts and prejudices are older than formalized
ethics, and run as deep as our evolution. Thus, it
may be worthwhile to examine some of the objections
against universalized ethics.
Moral Patients
One objection is that the pool of possible incarnates
includes moral patients (those unable to act from
the chosen code of ethics, such as children, the mentally
handicapped, and most non-human animals) as well as
moral agents (normal adult humans). Some philosophers
(generally contractualists) argue that moral patients
do not deserve direct moral consideration. Is this
reasonable?
Given that all moral agents begin life as moral patients
(infants and children) and can become moral patients
(after a stroke or senility), it would be in the interests
of those in the original position to include moral
patients within their code of ethics. Given that moral
patients can be affected by the decisions of moral
agents, there is no consistent reason for excluding
them from the pool of possible incarnates, and thus
from consideration of their interests. As Rollin concludes,
"In a nutshell, there is no argument showing
that only moral agents can be moral recipients. On
the contractualist view, it is also hard to see why
animals differ in a morally relevant way from all
sorts of humans who can"t rationally enter into contracts
-- future generations of humans, infants, children
(especially terminally ill children, who will not
live long enough to actualize rationality), the retarded,
the comatose, the senescent, the brain-damaged, the
addicted, the compulsive, the sociopath, all of whom
are also incapable of entering into or respecting
contracts."
Moreover, it is not even clear that the distinction
between moral agents and patients would exclude all
nonhuman animals. While some adult humans may have
a monopoly on ethical theory (in addition to
a corner on the market for atrocities), humans do
not have a monopoly on ethical practices. As
Drs. Carl Sagan and Ann Druyan relate in Shadows
of Forgotten Ancestors:
In the annals of primate ethics, there are some
accounts that have the ring of parable. In a laboratory
setting, macaques were fed if they were willing
to pull a chain and electrically shock an unrelated
macaque whose agony was in plain view through a
one-way mirror. Otherwise, they starved. After learning
the ropes, the monkeys frequently refused to pull
the chain; in one experiment only 13% would do so
-- 87% preferred to go hungry. One macaque went
without food for nearly two weeks rather than hurt
its fellow. Macaques who had themselves been shocked
in previous experiments were even less willing to
pull the chain. The relative social status or gender
of the macaques had little bearing on their reluctance
to hurt others.
If asked to choose between the human experimenters
offering the macaques this Faustian bargain and
the macaques themselves -- suffering from real hunger
rather than causing pain to others -- our own moral
sympathies do not lie with the scientists. But their
experiments permit us to glimpse in non-humans a
saintly willingness to make sacrifices in order
to save others -- even those who are not close kin.
By conventional human standards, these macaques
-- who have never gone to Sunday school, never heard
of the Ten Commandments, never squirmed through
a single junior high school civics lesson -- seem
exemplary in their moral grounding and their courageous
resistance to evil. Among these macaques, at least
in this case, heroism is the norm. If the circumstances
were reversed, and captive humans were offered the
same deal by macaque scientists, would we do as
well? (Especially when there is an authority figure
urging us to administer the electric shocks, we
humans are disturbingly willing to cause pain --
and for a reward much more paltry than food is for
a starving macaque [cf. Stanley Milgram, Obedience
to Authority: An Experimental Overview].) In
human history there are a precious few whose memory
we revere because they knowingly sacrificed themselves
for others. For each of them, there are multitudes
who did nothing.
Discussing the macaque monkeys who chose to starve
rather than inflict pain on another, Drs. Sagan and
Druyan conclude, "Might we have a more optimistic
view of the human future if we were sure our ethics
were up to their standards?"
Excluding Animals -- Rationality
People are generally willing to include human moral
patients in the circle of ethics, but a truly universal
ethic (i.e., the inclusion of non-human animals in
the pool of possible incarnates) has obvious and difficult
implications -- notably, that one should not eat or
generally cause animals to suffer. Many find the consequences
of this inclusion unacceptable, and it is to avoid
these consequences that nearly all philosophers and
ethicists have either simply ignored animals, or built
arguments trying to show that only humans are worthy
of ethical consideration.
Is it possible to build a rational and morally-relevant
argument for exclusion of animals instead of simply
including everything in the Original Position? Despite
the efforts of many, it is unclear how one might do
this. For instance, John Rawls argues that only moral
agents are to be included in his Theory of Justice.
Rawls attempts to count children among moral agents
because they are potential moral agents. However,
as Singer writes, this is "an ad hoc device
confessedly designed to square his theory with our
ordinary moral intuitions, rather than something for
which independent arguments can be produced. Moreover,
although Rawls admits that those with irreparable
mental defects 'may present a difficulty,' he offers
no suggestions towards the solution of this difficulty."
(Singer, Practical Ethics)
What is it about being rational, with one's own ends
and a sense of justice, that is ethically relevant
to inclusion in the set of potential incarnates? Of
course, rationality is an assumption of those in the
original position, for there would be no discussion
otherwise (if irrational decisions were allowed, anything
would be fair game, and there would be no basis for
a set of rules governing interactions). Yet making
rationality a requirement for being a potential
incarnate has no basis. If rationality were a prerequisite,
many "marginal" human beings (such as the
brain-damaged and senile) would be excluded from moral
consideration.5
Excluding Animals -- Intelligence
Often, intelligence is offered as what sets humans
apart from other animals. Rollin counters this common
contention:
But why does intelligence score highest? Ultimately,
perhaps, because intelligence allows us to control,
vanquish, dominate, and destroy all other creatures.
If this is the case, it is power that puts us on top
of the pyramid. But if power provides grounds for
including or excluding creatures from the scope of
moral concern, we have essentially accepted the legitimacy
of the thesis that "might makes right" and have, in
a real sense, done away with all morality altogether.
If we do accept this thesis, we cannot avoid extending
it to people as well, and it thus becomes perfectly
moral for Nazis to exterminate the Jews, muggers to
prey on old people, the majority to oppress the minority,
and the government to do as it sees fit to any of
us. Furthermore, as has often been pointed out, it
follows from this claim that if an extraterrestrial
alien civilization were intellectually, technologically,
and militarily superior to us, it would be perfectly
justified in enslaving or eating or exterminating
human beings.
Excluding Animals -- Language
R. G. Frey (Interests and Rights: The Case Against
Animals) argues that only with language can a
creature have interests: "If what is believed
is that a certain declarative sentence is true, then
no creature which lacks language can have beliefs;
and without beliefs, a creature cannot have desires.
And this is the case with animals, or so I suggest;
and if I am right, not even in the sense, then, of
wants or desires do animals have interests."
While quick to use this rationalization against animals,
Frey ignores the implication for infants6
and for brain damaged humans. (Still others, such
as Michael Leahy, will allow for the exclusion of
"marginal humans" so as to be able to reject consideration
for other animals.) Indeed, given that fully matured
Broca and Wernke areas are required for language,
if Frey were to have a minor stroke in one of these
areas, he would no longer be subject to ethical consideration,
and could be subsequently eaten or used for experiments,
regardless of the suffering he experienced.
(This is not to imply that the brain is not required
to have interests. Damage to the brain can lead to
the loss of interests -- thus the term "brain
dead." Even relatively small damage, such as
the destruction of the hypothalamus in the case of
Karen Ann Quinlan, can end one's interests.)
What does speaking represent? Does language create
an entirely new (inner) world -- one alien to and
entirely different from those without language (infants,
animals)? Did Koko, the ape who learned sign language,
become a whole new creature? At what point in learning
a language does an infant have an interest in not
being tortured?7
More Important
One might allow that many non-human animals have
interests, but find no inherent implications from
this admission. Indeed, few call for outright and
total dismissal of animals" concerns (e.g., the repeal
of current welfare and anti-cruelty laws). Rather,
the current Western consensus is that humans" interests
are simply more important. But to whom are
humans" interests more important? To humans.
But do we really contend that the interest in a Big
Mac is greater than the cow's desire not to be slaughtered?
Defenders of animal experimentation often use emotional
hypothetical choices of "more important" to defend
animal exploitation. For example, concerning her daughter
Claire, who has cystic fibrosis, Jane McCabe wrote
in Newsweek (Dec. 26, 1988): "If you had
to choose between saving a very cute dog or my equally
cute, blond, brown-eyed daughter, whose life would
you choose? ... It's not that I don"t love animals,
it's that I love Claire more."
Ignoring that a single dog experiment could never
cure her child's disease, the moral question is whether
personal attachment justifies harming others. Since
McCabe probably loves her daughter more than other
children, would she endorse experimenting on other
children to save her child? This, after all, would
be a scientifically more productive research strategy
than experimenting on nonhuman animals.
Prejudice is Prejudice
Throughout history, people have set forth systems
of rules and laws which excluded others -- other clans,
other races, other sexes, other religions, etc. To
modern Western observers, (some of) these prejudices
seem as self-evidently "wrong" as the current
exclusion of other species seems obviously "right."
As pointed out in The Economist: "Historically,
man has expanded the reach of his ethical calculations,
as ignorance and want have receded, first beyond family
and tribe, later beyond religion, race, and nation.
To bring other species more fully into the range of
these decisions may seem unthinkable to moderate opinion
now. One day, decades or centuries hence, it may seem
no more than "civilized" behavior requires."
(8/19/95)
Even if we insist of rejecting the universal requirement
of ethics, given our propensity for prejudice, we
should be skeptical of any distinction based on membership
to a group. The only clear distinction of membership
in the human species is that, with gender, race, and
nationality no longer being fashionable prejudices,
"human" is the most exclusive group to which most
philosophers now pledge allegiance.
Why Act Morally?8
Some may well contend that they are rational (or
even ethical) and offer no means to dismiss any of
the above arguments, yet still find themselves unconvinced
that the implications of equal consideration of interests
have any influence on their lives. Being relatively
prosperous and already protected by the laws of a
Western democracy, they may believe that they have
little to gain from a change in the status quo; they
may even feel that, if required to act upon something
other than pure self-interest and self-advancement,
they would have much to lose.
To a large extent, they would be correct in this
analysis. Although it is true that, if one believes
it unnecessary to live ethically, they have no reason
to expect others to act ethically as well (in which
case everyone but the most powerful would suffer),
society already has enforceable rules in place to
protect them from being exploited. Thus, for all practical
purposes, acting from ethics appears to have nothing
to offer.
So why worry? Why not pursue one's ends with any
and all means available?
Pursuing What Ends?
Before addressing this question, a more fundamental
question arises -- what are our "ends"?
Put a slightly different way, what is the meaning
of our lives? Religion used to provide this answer,
mostly in pre-capitalistic societies. Although many
people still claim membership in some religion, in
modern Western societies, service to "God"
is rarely offered as the guiding force for people's
view of life and decisions.
Singer points out that the collapse of these traditions
have removed people's basis for meaning in life /
basis for how to live: "When Sartre realized
that life has no meaning, it was a shocking contention.
Now, it is simply the normal understanding."
It seems that, at least from appearances, "getting
ahead" -- the accumulation of more material wealth
and possessions -- is most people's de facto
meaning of life . The question then becomes: Is this
the only (or best) purpose we can pursue?
Given that many people have found meaning in other
pursuits, material advancement is not the sole
purposeful course. The other question -- is it the
best purpose -- is rather more difficult, even
in knowing how to rate the different options.
Without abdicating to a certain religious (or even
philosophical) tradition, there may appear to be no
basis by which to judge ways of living. Materialism
is often thought of as the external embodiment of
the pursuit of pleasure, and pleasure is thus the
ultimate "meaning" that life can have. With
this in mind and a general understanding of our evolutionary
heritage, one can understand better the reasons why
humans often derive their life's meaning from the
pursuit of material goods, and ultimately, why this
pursuit may well be judged not to be optimal.
Evolution and Insatiability
Throughout the vast majority of evolution, those
individuals who pursued and obtained the most (e.g.,
food and other signs of "wealth") survived
and reproduced the most. This connection between having
and the continuation of one's genes was not conscious,
but rather was manifested in the individual's drives
and desires for things, a discontent with the status
quo, and an envy of those with more.
These innate desires do not disappear once one has
"enough" (when an individual is no longer
in competition with others for limited resources or
breeding rights). In fact, it would appear that in
many, if not all cases, nothing satiates the
drive for accumulating more -- there is always more
to have, and always those who are better off. In other
words, materialism is the embodiment of the pursuit
of happiness, but incapable of arriving at
happiness. More accurately, materialism is flight
from the discontent of our insatiable unconscious
desires.
At some level, we are aware of this. Consider what
our position would be if we were raising a child,
and had only the child's interests at heart. It would
be her preference-satisfactions alone, over her life
as a whole, that we were seeking to maximize. Would
we teach that child to pursue hedonistic materialism?
Would we want her to look only for the short-term
benefit (e.g., nearly always put off going to the
dentist)?
Speculation
What might provide a viable option to this endless
battle with discontent? As Kant said, we can be at
our most free when we are at our most rational. Rational
analysis reveals the pitfalls of our evolutionary
heritage. This is not to advocate a Vulcan stoicism,
a suppression of emotions. Rather, following a rational
outlook can free an individual from unfulfillable
drives and desires that prevent us from achieving
sustainable peace and happiness. One can still experience
emotions -- the love for another person, the appreciation
of a sunset, etc. -- for what they are, not
for what they fulfill at the moment, soon to be taken
for granted.
However, logic alone does not provide meaning, but
is, rather, a first step. "An unexamined life
is not worth living," said Thoreau, but he didn"t
say that an examined life is worth living.
Rationalism may free us from some of our evolutionary
baggage, but free us to do what?
At this point, we can only speculate. Once we recognize
our ancient drives, we can more clearly pursue what
it can mean to be human. As rational beings, we can
make decisions about how to live our lives based on
logical and consistent derivations from first principles.
As social beings, we are not in a "zero-sum"
game, where for one person to win, another has to
lose.9 Rather, cooperation
can lead to advancement for all. Thus, we find that
it is possible to create a situation where we can
live consistently ethically and still come out ahead.
In the example above, Peter Singer contends that,
to maximize the child's happiness, we would teach
her ethics of character and respect: "the dispositions
which make possible mutual cooperation and affection,
without which all our endeavors would miscarry, and
all the joy and warmth in life would disappear. Those
who do not love their fellow men are less successful
in living happily among them." (How are We
to Live?)
Working together, working for something lasting,
bigger than one's self, can make life meaningful.
Revisiting the myth of Sisyphus, condemned to roll
a rock up a hill for eternity, Singer argues that
this ultimate torture can be made meaningful if Sisyphus
is allowed to push different rocks up the hill, and
use them to construct a building or monument.
We can each make our life a monument, building a
better world.
Footnotes
- See, for example,
Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors by Carl Sagan
and Ann Druyan, and The Moral Animal by Robert
Wright.
- For a further
discussion of consciousness, see Decartes' Error
and The Feeling of What Happens by Antonio
Damasio. Excerpts from the latter at http://www.veganoutreach.org/articles/damasio.html
- For one example
of an exploration, see Do
Animals Feel Pain? (Registration required)
New Scientist 25 April 1992
- For a discussion
of more objections, see "Beyond
Might Makes Right."
- Although there
is nothing to indicate that, as biological beings,
rationality is inherent even in theory.
- Without beliefs
and interests, why and how would infants acquire
language?
- It seems safe
to say that Frey has never experienced severe pain,
else he would know that language is not required
to have interests, as the deepest sufferings often
overwhelm the ability to think in language.
J. Dupre: "the suggestion that no nonhuman
animal is conscious, sensate, moderately intelligent
or in possession of even the simplest of beliefs
can ... be founded only on serious misunderstandings
of what is involved in the application of mental
descriptions. thus, I want to conclude that there
should be no difficulty in deciding that many other
kinds of animals have minds."
M. Fox, DVM: "There is sufficient documented
evidence from stress research, animal psychology,
and neurophysiology to support the probability that
the subjective emotional world of animals is more
similar to the various subjective states of human
consciousness than it is different. ... we extrapolate
biochemical, physiological, nutritional, and even
some behavioral responses in animals to humans all
the time in biomedical research. Is it not, therefore,
possible to extrapolate the other way?"
Both quoted in "Animal Minds and Intelligence,"
J Anim. Sci., 76:2072-2079
- See Non-Zero,
by Robert Wright.
- See Excerpts
from How Are We To Live? by Peter Singer
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