Santa Sabina College Philosophy and Religious Education Teacher Andrew Costantino recently delivered an excellent Ethics Olympiad (Australia’s Ethics Bowl) case analysis presentation. The primary case: Is It OK to Punch a Nazi? The primary metaphor: baking and eating cookies!
cookie ingredients (chocolate chips, an egg, brown sugar, etc.) = case presumptions and facts
the recipe (mix, bake at 350 degrees for 12 mins) = construction of the argument
the eating experience (bland, burnt or perfecto) = the argument’s consequences and implications
Could there be a more delicious way to explain argument construction and analysis? Brilliant!
Costantino also considers and explains subject-centered approaches to ethics, providing substantial analysis from the perspective of Virtue Ethics, action-centered approaches, including Deontological Ethics such as Kantianism, and consequence-based theories, including Utilitarianism.
He does a nice job dividing Kant’s Categorical Imperative into the Humanity Principle and Universality Principle – much better labels than The First and Second Formulations (which I’m guilty of using). And is careful to explain how Utilitarianism should take into account long-term consequences (as suggested by Rule Utilitarianism), and can morph into preference-satisfaction Utilitarianism, as promoted by world-famous Australian moral philosopher, Peter Singer.
Whether you’re a coach, competitor, judge or fan, the vid’s almost certainly worth your time. Thanks to Andrew for putting it together, and thanks to Matthew Wills with Ethics Olympiad for recording and sharing it with the EthicsBowl.org community.
The NHSEB case-writing team deserves kudos for all the
cases, but I especially enjoyed case #7. It enriched and challenged my understanding,
and left me undecided on the issue even 24 hours after first reading it. Let’s
see if I can make some sense of my conflicting intuitions.
Case 7 asks us to consider the ethics of outside influence
in domestic political decisions, and offers three examples:
Foreign activists influencing the 2018
referendum on Ireland’s constitutional abortion ban
Civil rights activists (often from areas of the
country outside of the South) advocating for desegregation and racial equality
during the 1960s
Russian-funded political ads which influenced
the 2016 American presidential election
On the one hand, maybe the result is what’s most
important. If we think that overturning Ireland’s abortion ban was morally
best, the progress of the Civil Rights movement was morally best, and the outcome
of the 2016 election was morally best, then we might welcome outside influence.
On the other hand, maybe we want each country’s citizens to
make their own political decisions. Part of the allure of democracy is that it
allows people to self-govern through the collective consideration and
endorsement of laws. But to the extent that the legislative and voting process
is manipulated by outsiders, the result doesn’t reflect the untainted views of the
citizenry.
With the Civil Rights movement, one could argue (and the case
alludes to the fact) that while Freedom Riders often weren’t from segregationist
states, they were citizens of the United States, and since civil rights was
a federal issue, their influence wasn’t external after all, or at least not as
external as Americans influencing Ireland’s abortion policies, or Russians
influencing America’s presidency.
The civil rights scenario is actually the only one with an
uncontroversial outcome, for it’s clear that humans deserve equal treatment independent
of their race. Abortion, on the other hand, is hotly contested, and so too is whether
Clinton or Trump were better suited to be America’s president. Therefore, it might
be best to set aside the abortion and presidency cases and focus on the Civil
Rights activists, or to (possibly even better) consider a hypothetical scenario
where the morality is less controversial.
Imagine European protestors opposing Hitler. On the one hand,
we respect Germans’ interest in autonomous self-government. But on the other
hand, it’s clear that Nazi death camps are unethical – in fact so
unethical as to override our usual deference to countries’ citizens to self-govern.
In this clear case, it would seem that the outcome is more important than the
process, and therefore we’d endorse outside interference.
It’s questionable whether we’d say the same for less extreme
cases – might want to defer to a peoples’ internal judgment when equally
intelligent people reasonably disagree, as they continue to do over both
abortion and Trump v. Clinton. However, you might argue that the stakes for
abortion in Ireland and/or the presidency in the U.S. were similarly grave to
those of death camps in Germany. One pits women’s interest in being able to end
unwanted pregnancies against the value of a potential person. The other
concerns the influence of a nation’s chief executive on everything from healthcare
to Supreme Court Justice nominees to control of the world’s largest nuclear arsenal.
Those are some pretty high stakes! Arguably
high enough to allow outside interference, only though only of the right sort.
That is, whatever your current view on abortion and Trump v.
Clinton, imagine like-minded foreigners working to move American politics in
that direction. When the outside support is on your side, it doesn’t seem as
objectionable, does it? Or are your own intuitions driving you to defer instead
to the integrity of the democratic process? I remain conflicted… But then when
I consider outside protestors opposing Hitler, return to the tentative view
that when the stakes are high enough, outside intervention is OK.
Teams, you have the luxury of a group of intelligent
teammates and coaches – hoping these initial thoughts will spur good
discussion. Should you figure this out, please share in a comment below – I need
the help 🙂 Cheers, Matt
Nandi’s child would be older, but still, a beautiful family (courtesy the Baby Center India)
Case #5 in the 2020 Nationals case pool concerns a newlywed Indian
named Nandi. Nandi and his wife get some big news: #1 they’re pregnant. #2
Nandi “has received a scholarship to pursue a college education at a prestigious
university in the United States.” They decide to move, but promise their
families they will return once Nandi has earned his Bachelor’s.
Nandi not only earns his Bachelor’s, but is offered entry
into an impressive Ph.D. program “with the promise of full funding and the prospect
of a successful and lucrative career.” He accepts, and after 7 years away from
home, receives word that his father has died.
Per Indian tradition, since Nandi is the eldest son, he is expected
to welcome his widowed mother into his home and care for her for the duration
of her life. However, his mother is unwilling to move to the U.S. (which would
require her to leave Nandi’s four sisters), and reminds Nandi of his promise to
return to India after earning his Bachelor’s.
At its core, this case pits personal ambition and family
betterment against broader familial obligations and the binding power of
promise. Can a win-win compromise be achieved? And if one can’t, which decision
is all-things-considered most ethical?
The second study question is a good one, asking, “What are
the relevant factors Nandi should consider when making his decision?” Factors
to entertain would include:
The impact on Nandi’s mother. Depending on his
choice, how emotionally harmed is she likely to be? How severely would
finishing his Ph.D. before returning to India damage their relationship? (With transparent
discussion, could she respect his decision and be reassured, or would anything
short of immediate and permanent return be perceived as an unforgivable
betrayal?) Would she be able to live comfortably without him short-term? (For
example, if she’d become immediately homeless and starve, this would be reason
to return now. If she’d be materially secure and emotionally supported by her
daughters while Nandi completed his schooling, this would lighten the moral scales
on that side.)
The impact on Nandi’s wife. The case doesn’t mention
Nandi’s wife’s preferences or interests. Would she prefer to live in the U.S.
or India? Is she pursuing her own education or career? Does she miss or have additional
obligations to her own family? Is her delayed return to India causing grief
with her own parents?
The impact on Nandi’s child. Nandi’s child currently
isn’t able to visit aunts, uncles, cousins or grandparents. The child is also
growing up immersed in American rather than Indian culture (maybe a bad thing,
maybe a good thing – those who know more about Indian culture than I do will
have to decide). What’s the general quality of life – safety, educational
opportunities, recreation – where they’ve been living in the U.S. vs. where
they would be living in India? Does the child have strong friendships?
The time remaining in his Ph.D. studies. If only a
few months, this would mitigate some of the negative impacts of continuing his
studies in the U.S.
The nature and potential impact of his studies. The
case details don’t clarify what Nandi’s Ph.D. is in. Nuclear medicine or basket
weaving? Sustainable tech or bowling? To the extent that Nandi’s studies have a
real potential to substantially better mankind, this would weight the scales in
favor of continuing his studies.
Possible win-win solutions. Might Nandi be able to complete
the remainder of his doctorate long-distance with a handful of quick trips to
the U.S., or possibly transfer to a school in India? Depending on her age and
health, might Nandi return to India, focus on caring for his mother for now,
and then return to the U.S. and finish his studies upon her death?
Win-wins are definitely a good thing in the real world. However,
as any team advancing to the nationals knows, ethics bowl cases are
intentionally written to pit conflicting considerations against one another, to
force teams to make and explain principled decisions. So while it doesn’t hurt
to have a few dilemma-resolving solutions in your back pocket, know that judges
expect teams to be able to make tough calls, and are likely to change the details
to force teams to make a principled decision. For example, “That’s great, but
assume Nandi can’t pursue his doctorate long-distance? Which considerations
would win in that case and why?”
For HSEBowlers with regionals this weekend or next, here’s a thoughtful guest analysis on case 13 from our friend Michael Andersen in Washington state. Enjoy!
Spencer, the gentleman in the case, receiving said punch.
First, it’s important to realize that this is one of those very complex topics that you would be hard-pressed to research exhaustively with a full year of prep for Ethics Bowl; nor could you adequately cover all the relevant and significant bases that need addressing in a six-minute presentation. So, I suggest that you focus on the strongest points for your presentation or commentary, and try to relax about all the other things that “could be said.” You simply don’t have time or energy to thoroughly research all the relevant perspectives involved. Because this is such a complicated topic, I have chosen to explore in this case analysis come of the more interesting (in my view) arguments on this case’s Study Questions. Note that it’s not exhaustive!
Secondly, a note about my own biases here. Having just recently organized and delivered a presentation series at the Fort Vancouver Regional Library on the topic of “Defining and Responding to Hate Speech,” together with the organization in which my wife and I are active volunteers (Circle of Peace), I have been steeped in research related to this case for the past eight months. So, it’s no surprise where my own sympathies lie. To be honest, personally I can see no defensible justification for using violence (of the “it’s okay to punch a Nazi” variety) to suppress speech or to intimidate people, even if they are actively–but otherwise non-violently–trying to advocate for bigotry and systemic discrimination against or segregation of “vulnerable populations” (i.e., ethnic minorities, LGBTQ folks, etc.). There are arguments for government regulation of so-called “dangerous speech” that I am sympathetic to, that would effectively limited where, when and to whom proponents of discriminatory or bigoted expression can spread their message (and still protect a healthy version of First Amendment rights). If you’re curious, slides # 50-55 of our first presentation outline some of the better arguments of this view. However, in general, I personally am a strong free speech supporter, and, it’s worth noting, this limited censorship argument noted above would not condone or protect suppression of speech or intimidation of people as the proponents of “Nazi-punching” seem bent on. That said, the resource handout from our first presentation will point you to a list of good online resources for further learning on this topic.
Along with cases #10 “Belief vs. Action” and #5 “Old-Fashioned Grandparents,” case #13 “Is It Okay to Punch a Nazi?” asks us to think hard about our own moral character in response to a possible (or actual) situation we may find ourselves in. To some extent, all thorny ethical dilemmas ask this of us, but the circumstances of some cases seem to bring out this dimension of moral character for the witnesses to, or participants in, the dilemma. The question What kind of person do I want to be? stands out in bold for this case.
For example, in this case, it may seem expedient to punch a person who appears to sympathize with Neo-Nazi beliefs, in order to broadcast a “You are not welcome here!” message to that person and to other would-be racist sympathizers. In an age ripe with memes on social media, where a witty comeback or outlandish action can garner thousands, if not millions, of views and likes, it may seem especially tempting in the moment to be the center of attention–if only to bask in the “glory” of our “15 minutes of fame.” However, a bit more sober reflection should reveal that such a short-lived payoff is likely to feel hollow in the long run, especially when it involves you committing acts of violence that will probably result in painful, even harsh, consequences–like the prospect of violent revenge or criminal charges. Is sending what you deem to be an important message on social media really worth being convicted of aggravated assault? Can this really be called “civil disobedience”?
Perhaps the most long-lasting consequence for those who endorse the view that “violence is sometimes a justifiable response to political views that one disagrees with or finds objectionable” (as Study Q#1 asks us) is the effect such choices might have on our personality. Social psychologists have long documented how “[e]xposure to violence increases aggression through reinforcement, through modeling, by priming cognitions related to aggression, and through desensitization.” Dr. Charles Sanger, Professor of Psychology at the University of Maryland, summarizes the research on how viewing or participating in violent acts in a social situation influences a later tendency toward aggression:
“…[C]ontinually viewing violence substantially changes how we think about and how our brains respond to the events that occur to us (Bartholow, Bushman, & Sestir, 2006). Frequent exposure to violence primes aggression and makes aggressive behavior more likely (Molitor & Hirsch, 1994). And viewing aggression frequently makes that aggression seem more normal and less negative. If we create for ourselves a world that contains a lot of violence, we become more distrustful and more likely to behave aggressively in response to conflict (Nabi & Sullivan, 2001).”
Of course, a more poetic and influential authority on this point is Martin Luther King, who wrote in 1967, in the midst of the Civil Rights Movement, “Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” …What kind of person do I want to be? Surely, most of us want to be known–to ourselves and to others–by our capacity for love than for exercising our primal instincts for intimidation and violence (however righteous the language we try to dress it in). If we agree with Aristotle that acting morally is a matter of habit, then we should investigate how to habitually act with loving-kindness rather than habituate more violent tendencies. I concluded from my own investigation that the scientific research and the best wisdom traditions appear to echo this insight. I encourage you to explore the topic on your own, even after Ethics Bowl concludes.
Beyond negative consequences for oneself, consider the likely negative consequences for our society more broadly if we sanction anti-racist vigilante violence. By personally contributing to a trend of combating racism with violence, one will likely further normalize the unfortunate stereotype, “In America, we are a society that chooses violence to solve our problems.” Boston Globe columnist Cathy Young articulated what’s at stake for us as Americans in her 2017 op-ed piece responding to a “nazi-punching” incident in Seattle:
“YET ANOTHER Nazi-punching video is making the rounds on the Internet, to cheers from quite a few people on the left. The clip, shot in Seattle, shows a man in a swastika armband getting knocked down with a punch to the face as he tries to talk to the assailant. Using violence to stop someone who espouses a violent ideology, many say, is legitimate self-defense. The man in the clip may or may not have been acting aggressively before the start of the video. It’s also unclear whether he is an actual neo-Nazi or simply mentally ill.
Regardless, both the video and the applause for it on social media are disturbing signs of the times. ‘Well done, Seattle. A+,’ went a typical comment. Another tweeter, a writer with 23,600 followers, declared, ‘Yes, I enjoyed video of the Seattle Nazi [getting] punched in the face. Very much. Freedom of speech is not freedom from consequences.’
Twitter talk is cheap. But such gleeful casual endorsements of violence are still worrisome, especially in light of what’s happening in the offline world. One can feel no sympathy for Nazis and still realize that approval of Nazi-punching is likely to lead to escalation of political violence across the board.”
The are many recent examples of influential counter-arguments against the “It’s okay to punch a Nazi” stance–more than can be adequately explored here. However, a few come to mind:
One of the aims of The Dangerous Speech Project is to share the latest research on effective strategies for anti-racist counterspeech. They summarize the following tips (among many) for confronting particular instances of “hate speech” or against persons advocating bigotry in public:
Remind yourself that behind each comment–no matter how hateful–is a human being. Treat them as you want to be treated.
Don’t be hostile, insulting, or aggressive–it can escalate the conflict.
The Southern Poverty Law Center, which has tracked hate crimes since 1971, recommends in their publication Ten Ways to Fight Hate: A Community Response Guide several time-tested alternative ways to engage publicly with those who appear to be advocates of hateful agendas espousing bigotry and discrimination:
“Speak up. Goodness has a First Amendment right, too. [But] Do not debate hate group members in conflict-driven forums. Instead, speak up in ways that draw attention away from hate, toward unity.
Create an Alternative: Do not attend a hate rally. Find another outlet for anger and frustration and for people’s desire to do something. Hold a unity rally or parade to draw media attention away from hate.”
Regarding Study Q #2 and the prospects of “making racists afraid,” Jonathan Haidt and George Lukianoff, in their 2018 book Coddling of the American Mind: How Good Intentions and Bad Ideas Are Setting Up a Generation for Failure, examine in some depth the alarming growth in recent years of the tendency among self-identified “anti-racists” to suppress expression and justify violence on college campuses and in public forums against sources of so-called “hate speech.” In their fourth chapter called “Intimidation and Violence,” Haidt and Lukianoff lay out an argument against justifications for this trend. Two supporting points include:
“In 2017, the idea that speech can be violence (even when it does not involve threats, harassment, or calls for violence) seemed to spread, assisted by the tendency in some circles to focus only on perceived impact, not on intent. Words that give rise to stress or fear for members of some groups are now often regarded as a form of violence.
[But] Speech is not violence. Treating it as such is an interpretive choice, and it is a choice that increases pain and suffering while preventing other, more effective responses, including the Stoic response (cultivating nonreactivity) and the antifragile response suggested by [progressive activist] Van Jones: ‘Put on some boots, and learn how to deal with adversity.’”
Certainly, there are some racists out there who are so fixated on their narratives of racial purity and perceived victimhood that rational discussion may seem futile. However, it’s worth exploring whether you think it follows from these facts that our only recourse is preemptive violence against them. On a related side note, the situation outlined in the case, and the text of Study Qs #1 and #2, preclude us from equating these kind of anti-racist confrontations with our war efforts against Nazi Germany in WWII. In the latter circumstance, Hitler and his armies invaded our allies’ lands, systematically looted them, and undertook a campaign of genocide against Jews and other political prisoners, violating human rights and committing war crimes on a mass scale. Unless you were a complete pacifist, at the time it was difficult to argue against our justifications to go to war against Hitler and his Axis partners. (…Of course, we weren’t exactly angels in our own conduct of the war, as any black American soldier in our segregated army would tell you. …But that’s another story.) Confronted with the opportunity to “punch a Nazi” (presuming that you had reliable knowledge of his/her Neo-Nazi beliefs), you are not facing an invading army, nor are you dealing with clear threats of violence against you. So, to equate the two justifications for violence might open you to a false equivalence fallacy charge.
In the situation described in case #13, both sides of the argument appear to agree that “[s]uch violence, in contrast, seems to be incompatible with treating someone else as a fellow citizen.” Moreover, it’s relevant that Richard Spencer, the target of the attack, viewed that a line of basic respect had been crossed with the punch: “‘But punching like that just crosses a line—totally unacceptable.’ He admitted that he feared future attacks, saying, ‘Certainly, some people think I’m not a human being and I can just be attacked at will.’” You could try to argue that preemptive attacks on characters like Spencer are necessary, because he (and advocates of systematic racism like him) are being hypocritical–because their message seems to justify violence against their targets. Furthermore, they are benefitting from the public peace maintained by civil society but would themselves violate it if they came into power. Even if this charge of hypocrisy for a particular person could be definitively established, think about whether that alone justifies the preemptive attack.
This junction in the argument takes us back to Haidt and Lukianoff’s point above: that “speech is not violence,” and that a civil society must tolerate freedom of expression so long as it doesn’t violate the First Amendment limits set by rulings of the U.S. Supreme Court (or the equivalent in international law). One key danger of equating speech with violence, argue scholars like Haidt and Lukianoff, is that campaigns to suppress so-called “hate speech” can backfire on those who are usually targets of such hateful speech. [If you need further clarification on this point, Nadine Strossen, Professor of Law at New York Law School and author of HATE: Why We Should Resist It with Free Speech, Not Censorship, outlines in this short (5:02) video what is at stake for this “hate speech”/free speech debate: “Should Hate Speech Be Censored?” The Federalist Society: POLICYbrief. For a counter perspective on this point (but one that falls short of justifying preemptive, vigilante attacks against racists like Richard Spencer), Must We Defend Nazis: Why the First Amendment Should Not Protect Hate Speech and White Supremacy, by Richard Delgado and Jean Stefancic, lays out the case that stricter counter-measures against so-called “hate speech” are justified by the damage such speech does to its targets. In a 2017 interview about their book, Delgado and Stefancic said, “Our answer to the question, does defending Nazis really strengthen the system of free speech is, then, generally, no. Sometimes defending Nazis is simply defending Nazis.”]
The heart of the legal debate briefly outlined above seems to be about whether censoring hateful or discriminatory speech through stricter regulations actually creates more problems than it solves. By extension, the proponents of the “It’s okay to punch a Nazi” view seek to piggyback on the logic of the pro-censorship legal case and make it morally permissable (perhaps even legally too) to allow preemptive violence against racists like Spencer in order to induce fear and silence among them and their sympathizers. (How exactly anti-racist individuals on the street would correctly identify and justly discern which so-called racists deserve this preemptive violence in practice is an obvious question that needs answering.) Furthermore, if it’s morally permissible to act this way in public, presumably it would be legal too; but how would authorities–police, lawyers, judges, even benevolent bystanders–manage to interpret such a law in reality, with all of the messy details such encounters are likely to involve? Your job is to decide how closely the moral justifications track the legal arguments on either side, and to determine if morally we’re collectively better off by sanctioning preemptive violence against apparently dangerous racists–even when they are not acting violently themselves.
As part of our third session of the FVRL series on Hate Speech, we summarized some of the powerful insights about how to effectively express solidarity or support for those who oppose or are affected by bigotry. You can find some good resources in the session handout about this, and particularly in the recent Discovery Channel series Why We Hate, co-produced by Steven Spielberg (scroll down for the trailer). To help you answer Study Q #3, the slides and speaker notes from that presentation summarize a few of the key points from this documentary series, as well as other insights from experts who have worked with targets of racism.
Finally, to echo a message we coaches have always tried to reinforce, we want you to think for yourselves on this and any Ethics Bowl case. It’s not our job to tell you what to think. The perspectives I outlined here are undoubtedly biased by my personal outlook on free speech and violence. As we attempted to do in our presentations at the FVRL, I have tried here to fairly represent the perspectives involved. It’s for you to decide how successful my attempts at an unbiased case evaluation actually were. Good luck on Saturday!
Here’s a second guest case analysis from Vancouver, Washington HSEB coach Michael Andersen. Thanks so much for sharing, Michael! Great job once again, this time with some keen insights from the perspective of Virtue Ethics, and a nice quote from Ethics in a Nutshell (open source Ethics Bowl Edition available for all ethics bowl participants here on the Resources page) on Kantianism. And agreed that a good way to open a presentation on this case might be to concede its complexity — many moving parts.
Case #10 “Belief vs. Action” is one that we all can relate to, as we have all heard the saying “People should practice what they preach.” A widely-shared moral intuition is the expectation that our leaders–especially teachers charged with guiding young people into public life–should strive to be moral exemplars (or, at minimum, not hypocrites); and we see it as tarnishing their credibility when their actions consistently and significantly appear to contradict their message. But how demanding must we be of others and ourselves when, on principle, we advocate for more ethical lifestyles (in this case, that of living more sustainably)? Should only moral exemplars in this arena of life take on leadership roles?
Surely our democracy and society can make room for people in leadership positions who are less-than-perfect, whose lifestyles involve some degree of waste and occasional excess. Who among us isn’t habitually wasteful some of the time? More than likely, if our standards are too stringent, then we will attract very few qualified people into such positions. So, to frame our thinking on this case, a bit of practical reasoning helps us see that our assessments of those in positions of leadership or responsibility should (within reason) allow some wiggle room for personal shortcomings and imperfections–if only because we ourselves are imperfect and would similarly face harsh recriminations, should we fail to live up to public standards of whatever constitutes an ethical and sustainable lifestyle. We need qualified people in leadership roles, so together we have a vested interest in refraining from making such positions available only to those who are morally flawless.
When evaluating this concern, the virtues of authenticity (1) and integrity (2) rank high on many peoples’ lists, and adhering to our principles (no surprise) requires us to make sacrifices of convenience or comfort when the situation demands it (like when politicians who advocate for campaign finance reform have to disclose their own campaign contributions). When people in leadership roles, or more broadly in positions of responsibility, behave in ways that seem to run counter to their message or role, then they risk being judged, by others and themselves, as inauthentic and/or lacking integrity. When the contradiction between their stated beliefs and actions is particularly embarrassing or egregious, these are often grounds for dismissing them from the position or demoting their role in an institution, as well as facing a general loss of social status.
At the root of this contradiction-concern are some very powerful intuitions that our species has evolved to navigate our social relations with others, which help to form our shared ideas about the virtues of honesty (3) and trustworthiness (5) (or more specifically the vices of dishonesty and duplicitousness). These concepts are crucial for our shared moral life together, as Kant argued (and Matt Deaton summarized) with his categorical imperative about refraining from lying:
“For example, imagine a world in which people always lied when it was to their advantage. What would happen? Lots of things, but at root, if people always lied, the social convention of trust, which is based on the expectation that people generally tell the truth, would dissolve. This would mean no one would ever take anyone at their word, and therefore there would be no benefit to lying.” (Ethics in a Nutshell: An Intro for Ethics Bowlers, 3rd Edition, p. 27) (5)
When Kayla, the Environmental Ethics teacher in the case #10 description, worries that she “sometimes feels like a fraud,” you could also say that she presently feels “inauthentic,” “lacks integrity,” or is “dishonest” by maintaining a facade of an environmentalist that–she feels–conflicts with the reality of her family’s lifestyle. …It is worth noting in passing that Kayla’s moral character is developed enough that she is sensitive to this apparent contradiction, as she is (justifiably?) concerned what her students will think of her: “If students knew how she lives her daily life, they’d be shocked.” You might conclude that she deserves some reproach for finally deciding to accept the students’ invitation to serve as the adviser to the Environmental Club, despite her apparent contradiction of belief vs. action; but at least she deserves some credit for deliberating on the question in apparent good faith. A good analysis of her situation will take this into account.
Also worth noting here (very briefly, as it’s a complex idea) are the criticisms of Consequentialist Ethics by advocates of Duty Ethics or Care Ethics, who view as insufficient the former framework’s emphasis on consequences alone as the basis for moral judgement. If we were to assess Kayla’s final decision exclusively by the merits of its probable consequences, ignoring completely her inner dialogue about the complexities of her choice, we would be missing something vital about her character and her process of deliberation. For instance, the case description tells us that “Kayla also knows that refraining from eating meat and dairy is one of the most effective ways to reduce her negative impact on the Earth. But her husband and kids love these products, and it’s difficult for the family to cook two separate meals.” This implies that her choices about living sustainably affect, and are affected by, her relationships with her family members, and thereby constrain her autonomy somewhat–at least insofar as she can’t really disown or neglect her husband and children in her desire to align their lifestyle with her environmental principles. (While the case description doesn’t tell us, one wonders how hard she has tried to reasonably convince her family on this point, appealing to their shared responsibility to care for the Earth, and to avoid the charge of hypocrisy, given her public professional role.) In the end, you might find her behavior and judgment lacking; nevertheless, a fair analysis of her motives shows that she appears to feel genuinely conflicted and yearns to do good in the world, which is evident when she concludes that: “Advising the Environmental Club would enable her to do even more good and inspire many more students to advocate for environmental issues and make a difference. Disclosing how she actually lives feels more honest, but it might undermine her work, making people take her arguments less seriously.”
Furthermore, regarding matters of environmentally-friendly living, judgments about personal authenticity and integrity can be tricky, as observers making the judgments are not always partial to private information. Neither is genuine sustainability an easily-achievable standard to live up to. (6) Given that all of us are enmeshed in complex systems of economics and infrastructure (usually not of our own choosing), and that psychologically motivating people to change is fraught with potential pitfalls, is it realistic for Kayla to feel that she’s a fraud because her family’s lifestyle falls short of what her environmental principles demand? Should she actively pressure her family members to live more sustainably, even though this strategy might backfire, causing them to resent her or exacerbate their consumerism and wastefulness? Should she refuse the leadership role until her lifestyle lives up to her own standards? When exactly would that be, and under what specific conditions?
Assuming that Kayla lives in the United States, her options for more sustainable alternatives (like convenient mass transit) and her reliance on a built infrastructure for energy, transportation, food, water, and other necessities is likely to vary, depending on where she lives; but probably her personal ecological footprint will be heavier due to these broader conditions of her life as an American. (7) While some of these factors are within her personal control, some aren’t, and therefore our assessments about the degree that she should feel morally responsible for her lifestyle’s ecological footprint should take these factors into account.
On the other hand, compared to the small ecological footprints of billions of “poor” people in “developing” countries, and the hardships and sacrifices they live with, perhaps Kayla should feel more responsible to align her lifestyle with her principles. One of her core intuitions is that “Surely an essential part of being an environmentalist is living like one.” If this is the case, and billions of people already manage to live more simply, with smaller ecological footprints, then should the present circumstances of Kayla’s life–many of which are a product of her past and present choices–excuse her from the uncomfortable difficulties of aligning her beliefs and actions? Perhaps not, and she just needs to stop making excuses for not trying harder. Surely people currently living in “developed” countries (like, presumably, Kayla does) have a variety of options for learning about and pursuing more sustainable lifestyles–for instance, buying vegan options at the grocery store, purchasing carbon offsets, supporting renewable energy sources, reducing their consumption of wasteful products, etc. Kayla’s own specific awareness of the environmental costs of her family’s lifestyle reveals that (potentially, at least) she has access to educational resources and networks of people to support her transition to an environmentally-friendly lifestyle. (The case description notes that she has an “office” and that she works on “campus”; so it’s likely that she’s a college professor or at least a teacher in a relatively affluent secondary school.)
Perhaps most intriguing for this case, it is worth reflecting whether Kayla’s challenge is merely a personal one. Given the realities of climate change, the environmental degradation we see around us, the alarming loss of biodiversity, and the mountains of waste our society produces, perhaps Kayla’s challenge is our challenge. What do you think? What do the facts of Kayla’s situation (and ours) demand of her (and us)?
Finally, the second study question asks us to think about whether Kayla has a duty to tell her students about her environmentally irresponsible choices Should there be room for her not to disclose her personal shortcomings on privacy grounds? Would hiding such apparent contradictions between her lifestyle and her principles jeopardize her relationship with her students (and the Environmental Club’s reputation in general)? Deciding what should matter most here depends in part on your personal moral convictions, but also on the quality of the supporting reasons and evidence we ought to consider concerning Kayla’s circumstances and her underlying motivations. The supporting reasons and evidence relevant to Kayla’s condition, to our shared ecological challenges, to the long-term sustainability of our way of life, and to the future of our planet’s biosphere deserve your close examination. …Don’t be surprised if the wider context of this case feels dauntingly complex. Perhaps a good start for your team’s position on case #10 is to acknowledge some of this complexity before settling on an answer to Kayla’s dilemma that you judge is the most viable.
The below is a guest analysis by Michael Andersen, a former high school IB Philosophy and Theory of Knowledge teacher currently serving as a volunteer Ethics Bowl coach at the Vancouver School of Arts & Academics here in Vancouver, Washington. It begins with a brief introduction, and goes on to present a very rich analysis with multiple valuable sources and summary explanations — a truly outstanding post. Thank you Michael for taking the time to write this, and for your generosity in sharing it! Every team that reviews it will definitely better appreciate the complexity of case 11, will come away with a new philosophical tool (Parfit’s Repugnant Conclusion), and will no doubt have an advantage should they draw it during their bowl. Cheers to all, Matt
Our Ethics Bowl program at VSAA is new this year; however, I have coached Ethics Bowl teams to the Washington State and Oregon Bowls for several years in the past, as well as served as an organizer and judge at the Oregon Bowl. Due to a variety of factors, we can typically only meet once a week, and currently there is no philosophy course at VSAA in which students might receive more Ethics instruction to help them prepare for Ethics Bowl. Since we’re so pressed for time, and our students are new to this activity, I like to use your site and videos, together with Hank Green’s Crash Course Philosophy (1) and the Ethics and Critical Thinking videos at Wireless Philosophy (2) to help lay some groundwork. Thank you for the great work that you do! Our students and my fellow coaches appreciate your time and effort.
Thank you, too, for the invitation to offer some Guest Analysis. I posted the following case exploration to help our students think about the dilemmas inherent in case #11 “Billionaire Backfire.” Perhaps you can use some of this to stimulate thought for other teams, or use some of it as a springboard for your own post on the case.
To begin our reflection on case #11 “Billionaire Backfire,” consider the initial study questions:
When is someone morally praiseworthy for donating money to a charitable cause?
What makes this praiseworthy, when it is?
First, I encourage you to review the (9:46) video Crash Course Philosophy #39 on Moral Luck (3), in which Hank Green explains the difference between moral and causal responsibility, and the reasons we assign praise and blame. Also helpful is the (6:11) Wireless Philosophy video “Ethics: The Problem of Moral Luck” (4), which explores this topic with a few more examples to help you grasp some key issues with the concept of moral responsibility.
Case #11 has particular value for students at Vancouver School of Arts & Academics. The case’s second study question–How does one compare the value of artistic, cultural, or historical artifacts versus the value of human life or well-being?–seems relevant for students and their families interested in supporting the arts (vs. other ways that we could use our money). While some people like to view charitable donations as strictly a personal matter, when the amount donated by philanthropists is sizably large (“more than $1 billion,” as the case description reminds us), and when we live in a society where the gap between rich and poor is the highest in recent history, the prospect of channeling wealth toward a church restoration project over other–arguably more compassionate–ways of doing public good is bound to be contentious. Given the state of global wealth disparity, and the thousands of homeless and refugees desperate for basic necessities, one might sympathize with the question, Shouldn’t the care of these vulnerable people with this $1 billion in charity take priority over meticulously restoring a famous church?
Restoring an iconic building like Notre Dame undoubtedly has public value. And, while important for this case, let’s set aside for a moment the complex question Shouldn’t private donors be free to do what they wish with their own money? Some observers argue that in many countries (particularly in the U.S.) wealth and influence now is so unjustly concentrated in the hands of a tiny privileged elite that a campaign of moral and political pressure to correct this concentration of power is long overdue. Given the widespread public awareness of this disparity between rich and poor, between the powerful influence of a wealthy few and the relative powerlessness of so many vulnerable and destitute people, one can see how large charitable donations for cultural projects like the Notre Dame restoration might deserve some degree of moral scrutiny. (Part of this argument’s force depends on the current political and socio-economic context, with an implicit understanding that, in more stable times, moral scrutiny of such charitable acts might be less justified.)
But perhaps we should scrutinize the underlying assumptions of the criticizing parties as well–if only to better grasp the merits of their critique. Our judgment about whether a philanthropist deserves praise (or blame) for charitable donations requires us to examine closely the giver’s motives and the charitable act’s consequences. The second paragraph of the “Billionaire Backfire” case description points to the motive of “solving larger socio-economic problems, like homelessness and poverty,” and effective altruism’s idea of “[doing] the most good.” This approach implies a type of utilitarian framework of evaluating the morality of actions. In this instance, what would matter most in the evaluation process are the consequences resulting from the billionaires’ charitable acts (i.e., what is attended to and what is neglected); and that we should strive for consequences that maximize happiness equally for everyone. But what actually happens if we always and everywhere prioritize efforts to maximize well-being equally for everyone? Will this guiding principle necessarily result in a better world?
One argument against the view that we should always strive to maximize happiness equally for the greatest number evolves out of a concern about the underlying utilitarian logic illustrated by Derek Parfit’s famous thought experiment of “The Repugnant Conclusion” (5). (NOTE: This links to the detailed and technical article @ The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. A simpler, more beginner-friendly overview of this thought experiment can be found in this short (5:59) video, where Co-Founder of the Center for Applied Rationality Julia Galef explains this idea: “The Repugnant Conclusion (a philosophy paradox)” (6). For ease of digesting the insight of Parfit’s Repugnant Conclusion, I’ve attached below 4 screenshots from Julia Galef’s overview video that show the main graphs and premises of the Repugnant Conclusion.)
Undoubtedly, Derek Parfit’s thought experiment has stimulated a lot of commentary. The Repugnant Conclusion highlights an apparently unacceptable implication of utilitarian logic and its underlying assumptions for directing moral action–at least in cases where that logic exclusively drives policy decisions affecting real-world population management and wealth distribution. The kind of moral intuitions that this thought experiment interrogates are worth examining carefully, especially for young people concerned with future world conditions, family planning, and exercising altruism effectively.
The Repugnant Conclusion thought experiment relates to “Billionaire Backfire,” especially with Guiding Question #2: How does one compare the value of artistic, cultural, or historical artifacts versus the value of human life or well-being? Assume for a moment that we’re tempted to address this question guided by the principle of maximizing happiness equally for the greatest number. Given the wealth disparity context noted above, and the desperate condition of so many vulnerable citizens and refugees, it seems to follow from this utilitarian approach that we should pressure wealthy philanthropists in cases like this to channel their charitable money toward what effective altruists suggest–that is, “doing the most good” (e.g., addressing “homelessness or water quality over rebuilding Notre Dame”). The motive of maximizing happiness equally for the greatest number would also seem to apply to the priorities of taxpayer money directed at domestic welfare and foreign aid programs.
Applied consistently over time, shifting our charity and welfare priorities in this way seems to result (on first glance at least) in fostering a world that looks like Parfit’s Repugnant Conclusion, barring some competing directive about population control. Observers of cases like “Billionaire Backfire” often frame the moral tension we feel here as “emphasizing quality of life, even for a privileged few” vs. “equally meeting basic needs for all” (which, many assume, results in population growth). As the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy article on this concept says, “…any loss in the quality of lives in a population can be compensated for by a sufficient gain in the quantity of a population; that is, it leads to the Repugnant Conclusion” (Section 1). (5)
While there is some evidence to suggest that stabilizing vulnerable populations through aid and investment slows down their population growth (7), recent history shows that the world’s population has skyrocketed with widespread access to more material goods and the curtailing of diseases, predators, and lack of basic resources that formerly kept the human population in check. Concerns about always prioritizing quantity of people served through basic welfare over quality of life measures are thus understandable–even if our knowledge about the link between the two is still hazy. So, upon closer examination, determining exactly how we should measure and compare possible good outcomes in a “happiness calculus” appears not to be such an easy problem to solve. Experience has shown that governments and private benefactors can’t solve all of the world’s problems, and clearly there are limits to what charitable donations can accomplish with systemic problems like homelessness and water quality.
These insights lead to the question: What is lost if society generally demands that sizable charitable donations always benefit basic welfare needs over other possible goods? Again, the author of the Stanford Encyclopedia article for this topic helps explain the concern here:
Any finite number of lives in population A can therefore be outweighed by a sufficiently large number of lives in Z because the gain in the quantity of lower values outweighs the loss of certain higher values. However, some theorists—including Parfit—have suggested that this axiological assumption is mistaken. …The idea is that one type of good α can be superior to another type of good β, in the sense that any amount of α is better than any amount of β or that some amount of α is better than any amount of β.
Suppose that what happens as we move down the alphabet from the high-quality population A to the low-quality population Z is that the best things in life are gradually lost. For instance, as Parfit has suggested, the first step from A to B involves the loss of Mozart’s music; in the move from B to C Haydn’s music is lost; in the move to D Venice is destroyed; and so on down the alphabet. All that is left in the final move to Z is “muzak and potatoes”. The claim is that the lives in the beginning of the sequence involve goods that are superior to the goods involved in the lives at the end of the sequence.
The loss of the most worthwhile things in life cannot be compensated for by any gain in the quantity of muzak and potatoes. Consequently, whatever the number of people in population Z, there will be less welfare, or less valuable welfare, in this world as compared to population A and thus the Repugnant Conclusion is blocked. (Section 2.2 Questioning the way we can compare and measure welfare)
At this point, we’re left to ponder some refining questions: What is the most good we can do? and Is it always better in the long run to prioritize meeting basic necessities for a lot of desperate people than to invest resources into artistic or cultural projects that might benefit fewer people–and even then as an aesthetic or inspirational benefit? These are not easy questions even for professional philosophers.
What do you think? Do we diminish the spirit of charitable giving if such gifts are always subject to an effective altruism calculus? Is serving the basic needs of vulnerable people always preferable to fostering culturally beneficial goods?
Looking more closely at the utilitarian directive, you might ask: Do the main versions of utilitarianism actually REQUIRE us to prioritize public or private funding for basic necessities (food, clean water, healthcare, housing) over and above funding for artistic or cultural projects like arts education, restoration of historical or culturally significant artifacts, etc.?
One way many utilitarians try to answer this is by treating the interests of ALL humans (or, more radically, all sentient beings capable of suffering) EQUALLY, and by ranking those interests like Abraham Maslow did with his Hierarchy of Needs. We need basic necessities (water, food, shelter, clothing) first before we can begin to appreciate art or the inspirational value of a historic church like Notre Dame. Others argue that all that is required from a utilitarian approach is maximizing NET happiness. (I won’t go into the weeds here on this, but if you’re curious and want more detail, I’ve linked the Wireless Philosophy Ethics playlist below (2) so you can watch the three short utilitarian vids there, which explore this point with helpful examples.) If only NET happiness matters, then perhaps a minority of people being made extremely happy by funding arts and cultural projects (i.e., those that have privileged access to them) is enough to maximize overall happiness, even though the lives of a bigger group of people are made only marginally happy, due to limited access to basic necessities.
Another relevant question here is: Will a commitment to maximizing happiness equally for everyone NECESSARILY result in Parfit’s Repugnant Conclusion? Perhaps it’s possible to subscribe to utilitarianism’s general mandate for moral action, emphasizing equal access to happiness for the greatest number, but that WON’T necessarily result in the growth of “billions and billions” of people (i.e., “World C or Z”), all less well-off than World A’s one billion flourishing people. To make such a case, you would need to research what actually results from spreading wealth around the globe more equally, through foreign aid, debt relief, charity, investment, etc. Do populations actually shrink as a result of such assistance, or is the result closer to Parfit’s Repugnant Conclusion?
You might also wonder if we can avoid this whole Repugnant Conclusion problem by just abandoning utilitarianism’s commitment to maximizing happiness for the greatest number, opting for a different moral framework like Virtue Ethics, Care Ethics, Deontology (Kantian Duty Ethics), or something else. For that angle, I’ll save words here and direct you to the final paragraph of Section 1 of the Stanford Encyclopedia article “Arriving at the Repugnant Conclusion” (5).
Finally, a concern I have about this discussion is the tendency of participants to focus on the human happiness picture exclusively. Parfit’s Repugnant Conclusion thought experiment doesn’t address the importance of animal welfare, as if the Moral Status of Animals were merely an inconvenient afterthought (8); nor is Biodiversity (9) or Biodiversity Preservation (10) factored into the overall flourishing of any of these hypothetical worlds. In our real world, decades of scientific investigation has clarified how the ecosystems of the Earth (upon which all life depends) are more fragile and threatened than we previously thought. Related research has also taught us much more about animal suffering at the hands of humans (in factory farms, for example). Now that we know so much more about their biology, emotions, and their social lives, we have fewer excuses for ignoring their interests in our moral deliberations. Perhaps we should also ask: In calculating overall happiness, what moral consideration do we owe to non-human animals and to the fragile ecosystems on which they (and we) depend? Does the repugnance of Parfit’s Repugnant Conclusion also include moral consideration for the flourishing of sentient animals?
Jade lives near an old graveyard (no new burials in decades), and walks her dog there, even though it’s against the law. Sometimes headstones emit steam, and Jade swears she’s heard moans coming from the ground. No, not really. But walking her dog there really is illegal. Should she continue?
Before answering, remember that good law tracks morality, but doesn’t determine it. That is, just because something is legal doesn’t mean it’s necessarily moral (consider slavery, once fully legal), and just because something is illegal doesn’t mean it’s necessarily immoral (consider when it was illegal for women to vote). The law states what’s legal, not necessarily what’s moral. So don’t fall into the common trap of basing morality on legality – the two are related, but distinct. In fact, every so often (OK, continuously) people need to reflect in order to clarify what the law should say, to ensure it continues to better align with morality.
Jade’s not dealing with anything as consequential as slavery or suffrage – just a little doggie exercise. But while she might be quiet and respectful, pick up after her dog and not do any obvious harm (after all, the residents are dead… even if they sometimes moan), her presence may signal to less reverent pet owners that it’s OK for them to break the law, too. Before you know it, dogs are marking their territory on headstones, digging up graves, fighting over human hip bones – not pretty. There’s also a risk (however distant) that a family member could show up and cause a scene. “Let go of my great-grandmother’s pearls, you beast!!”
The crux of the case in favor: “[G]iven that the law was probably written to respect family members’ grief and to enable them to honor their loved ones in peace, it seems that the spirit of the rule doesn’t really apply.” Jade would be giving her dog some much-needed exercise, and she seems exceptionally polite and thoughtful. Maybe her presence actually honors the graves? Maybe many of the deceased were pet lovers?
So which is it – should Jade continue walking her dog in the cemetery, maybe with certain conditions (and an exorcist)? Or should she refrain? And most importantly, why?
