Rethinking Abortion in Light of Advancing Technology

Advances in technology will eventually change how one prioritizes which ethical "rights" get invoked for or against having an abortion.
{ Audio .mp3 (7 min.)  of this essay } For my Ethics class I regularly re-read Mary Ann Warren's 1973 article, "On the Moral and Legal Status of Abortion."[1] Although it is well argued, I can't agree with every sub-conclusion she draws which would be required to justify her overall position -- hardly a surprise, of course, given my pious commitments.

In a postscript to the article, she attempts to show that her argument for the moral permissibility of abortion does not commit her to infanticide. Why not? Because after the infant is born, "it does mark the end of its mother's right to determine its fate." I have two points of disagreement with her on this matter of infanticide -- one minor, the other more substantial, but which is somewhat related to the minor issue.

First, I have never been clear on where alleged moral "rights" come from, at least if there is no all-knowing issuer and (eventually) absolute enforcer of those rights (otherwise known as God). In contrast, political rights are far more easy to understand and apply: Find the king, or the Constitution, or some other governmental authority, and then draw some sort of reference and subsequent enforcement from there. So my minor disagreement with Warren is that talk of moral rights only introduces further confusion into the abortion debate.

Second, even if one were to acknowledge some sort of discernible rights being affirmed or violated, I was curious about how the following aside from Warren would interplay with such rights:

"Indeed if abortion could be performed without killing the fetus, [the mother] would never possess the right to have the fetus destroyed, for the same reasons that she has no right to have an infant destroyed."

What might it mean to perform an abortion without destroying a fetus?

 At first glance we might worry that just as murdering someone without killing them is impossible, so committing an abortion without destroying the fetus is likewise, for semantic reasons, impossible. But this is not quite a correct understanding of the term, because the very word "abortion" just means the deliberate termination of a human pregnancy, and does not, in addition, also mean the deliberate termination of a fetus's life. As we currently practice it, the act of abortion indeed causes the termination of a fetus's life, but that is merely an association due to our poor technology, not due to the prior logically entailing letter. Compare our use of the word "surgery" today as compared to times past. In the past, surgery always caused pain, but today we are fortunate to know that the association of these two terms is not one of logical entailment, as every anesthesiologist can attest.

With this semantic confusion behind us, we are now in a position to think about abortions, but without fetal termination. Perhaps we can imagine a specialized vat whereby we place a fetus within so as to grow it to viability. Advances in robotic surgery would allow doctors to remove the whole placenta quickly enough to

support the oxygen and nutrient environment which keeps the fetus viable, and then to reattach it to the artificial vat support system. In this case the woman would have terminated her pregnancy (accurately called an "abortion") but the fetus would still remain viable. Or again, perhaps the vat technology is too difficult a feat, but advances in biology allow a transplantation of just a small portion of the placenta, along with its accompanying fetus. Likewise, per as earlier, we would have terminated the pregnancy, but with the advantage of the fetus remaining viable.

In her postscript, Warren supplies two arguments on why infanticide is wrong (1) for reasons analogous to those which make it wrong to want to destroy natural resources or great works of art; or (2) for reasons whereby people value infants -- such as when foster parents who would want the infant would be deprived, or when greater society, valuing infants and willing to step up and support them, finance orphanages through the tax base. However, under advanced technology circumstances, these same issues would apply to the woman losing her "right" to commit an abortion, were the growth vat or the transplant biology advanced enough to remove the infant from the woman. Using Warrens own reasoning, just as the woman does not control the right to commit infanticide after the birth, neither would the woman control the right of feticide in utero.

Warren wants to say that the rights of actual people trump the rights of potential people, but I am unclear which rights are being mentioned. My suspicion is that there are conditions where the right of the woman's quality of life could very well be subordinate to the rights of a fetus to have life at all. Suppose that the surgery were no more troublesome than having a mole removed, or taking a few hours out of one's day for an anesthetic nap (for surgery), similar to colonoscopy procedure. Under these conditions there would be minimal quality of life degradation. Even if one acknowledges the presence of moral rights, there must be a hierarchy to these rights to make them workable, as both scholars and jurisprudence practitioners of legal rights have recognized.

Earlier in her article Warren wants to suggest that an actual person's rights (in this case the mother) always trump a potential person's rights (the fetus). I don't see why this should be accepted a priori. Indeed, the mother should not be presumed as the only actual person with rights in place. Instead, I suggest that it is the empirical circumstances and consequences which allow us to formulate the hierarchy of already-acknowledged rights. If one grants this suggestion, the consequences of the mother's degradation of quality of life could eventually be so low in the advanced technology cases mentioned that one should assess the fetus's right to life as super-ordinate over the mother's right to quality of life. If so, then I conclude that we shall soon be rethinking abortion in light of advancing fetal support technology.

O.

REFERENCES

Images: Header image taken from article, Soraya Chemaly "What Do Artificial Wombs Mean for Women?" 2/23/2012 RH Reality Check Blogsite (Accessed 4/8/2014).  Inset image taken from Green Diary - Green Living Blogsite. (Accessed 4/8/2014)

[1] Ann Warren "On the Moral and Legal Status of Abortion" [.pdf] The Monist: An International Quarterly Journal of General Philosophical (Peru, IL, 1973).

On the baby without a brain turning two years of age

What can one assess about responsibility toward such a child?

Big-shot Enlightenment era philosopher, Immanuel Kant's ethical position holds that not only actual people, but even potential people have moral worth, thus why some opponents of abortion say that such an act is morally wrong:  a fetus in utero, otherwise not interfered with, will become a person.  But in this case, taking Kant's position, the baby, lacking a brain, is not even a potential person.

Now there is a counter-argument here.  One issue in all this is whether "person" is a concept defined (i) by the ability (or potential ability) to be come actual, as Kant's position holds; or (ii) by the the imputation of personhood by those in a social circle.  Regarding this second point, the family plainly imputes personhood to this child, as did one of the TV anchors, at least weakly, when he claimed that the child seemed to recognize its parents.  But such "seeming" recognition is often at issue in medical cases -- such as where someone has been in an otherwise unrecoverable coma, but the family claims to see responses of the person "in there".

Given only the brevity of this video, and the claims about the baby's medical condition, I would assert with full confidence the "seemings" position, but I know good-and-well that with time and constant exposure, I too would be psychologically unable to maintain that position, which for the same reason people so easily impart mindedness to a "Kismet" machine.[1]

O.

REFERENCES

[image] "Baby born without brain turns 2" YouTube, Dec 8, 2010 (Accessed April 5, 2012)

[1] "Kismet (MIT A.I. Lab)" YouTube, Sept 7, 2011 (Accessed April 5, 2012)

Free will to love God, or free will from a loving God?

Dear Mr. Supposed Philosopher:

I recently read your article concerning Rob Bell's error about God and free will, and now I have a question for you. Would you agree that God's love is based on the free will he has granted us; or, on the other hand, do you agree that free will was given to us to demonstrate our love towards God?

I look upon you as very religious, and I thought a man of your deep piety could choose wisely in this conundrum.

Signed -

-- Choosy Mutha

Dear Muthalooker:

You've asked me to chose between two arguments which, from your post, seem to be as follows:

ARG. #1:
1. God gave us (created entities) free will
2. A creator giving a created entity its own free will entails the creator loves that entity.
3. Thus, God loves us.

ARG. #2:
1. God gave us (created entities) free will.
2. A creator giving a created entity its own free will entails a duty to love that creator.
3. Thus, we should love God.

First, there is nothing here that says I'm logically forced to choose one or the other argument. Indeed, since they both share their first premises, and since the conclusions of both are not controversial among Christians, then I'm not immediately worried about which conclusion is "right"--i.e., theologically responsible to hold.

Next, however, I caution that there are problems with premise #2 in BOTH arguments, since they are both open to a kind of counterexample disconnecting freewill and love.

Consider this thought experiment. It seems we humans are eventually going to construct artificially intelligent entities. Suppose we figured out not only the deep mystery of how physical brains can exhibit the property of consciousness (That was easy!), but also of how they maintain free will (No problem!).  And, as is often the case, once we got the science down, the technology was not far behind--we then build a freewill agent.

Per ARG #1, does that mean since we gave a created, artificial entity a free will, we love it? Hardly. We might simply be using it for some ends--asteroid mining, or troop moral on Mars station 7, perhaps; and, we have every intention to throw it away or "deactivate" (= kill) it when we are done with it for the assigned task. Granted, it might be unethical what we've done, but I'm merely showing a counterexample seems available to premise 2 in ARG #1.[i]

ARG #2 fares somewhat better, I think; but, even here a problem arises. Again, on supposition that we somehow build a freewill agent, must we acknowledge a duty toward it? Talk of duty is one option for a systematic ethic. But it might turn out that we're mistaken about duties--there just are no such things. Maybe there are consequences and social contracts between agents, but some free-floating, esoteric relation known as "duty" is just an old-fashioned, mistaken concept from human cultures past. Thus, your second argument works only if one believes there is such a thing as duty. There is some controversy about this in ethics, so unless we get clear on that, it looks like ARG #2's strength can't be resolved.

Overall, then, ARG #1, seems unsound; and ARG #2 is convincing only to those who think there is some special "force" or relationship independent of human preference called duty.

O.

References

[image] "Consequentialism: It's Duty Free (ethics) Tee Shirt" Zazzle.com (Accessed 6/9/11)

[i] Compare in the Old Testament where God uses Job's horrible suffering as an end (among others) to teach Satan a lesson. The Bible seems to indicate God uses people as means-to-ends quite regularly.

Are you safe, stupid, or selfish by wearing a motorcycle helmet?

I ran across an interesting study titled, "Donorcycles: Do Motorcycle Helmet Laws Reduce Organ Donations?"[1] which argues that organ donations due to motor vehicle fatalities increase by 10 percent when states repeal helmet laws, and that every death of a helmetless motorcyclist prevents or delays as many as 0.33 deaths among individuals on organ transplant waiting lists.

The article also contains many interesting facts about motorcycling and the reasoning behind mandated helmet laws -- at least where they exit, for not many states have such laws: "Currently, 20 states and the District of Columbia require all motorcycle riders to wear helmets, and 27 states have partial coverage laws that typically mandate coverage for all riders age 17 and younger.6 Illinois, Iowa, and New Hampshire do not require any riders to wear a helmet."

Suppose you live in a state that had helmet laws and repealed them. Would you continue wearing the helmet? Well, a betting man would have trouble making money off you either way, since "several papers using single-state data find consistent evidence that the percentage of riders wearing helmets decreases from nearly 100 percent under universal helmet laws to roughly 50 percent when helmet laws are repealed." If you do wreck, the data on helmet protection is pretty convincing: "

Using [a] within-vehicle approach, [it was] found that helmets reduce fatality risk by 34 percent. Similarly, a recent meta-analysis found that helmets reduce the risk of death by 42 percent and the risk of head injury by 69 percent. A related literature estimates the effects of helmet laws on state-level fatality rates. Estimates based on within-state variation in fatalities and helmet laws over time suggest that universal helmet laws reduce per capita fatalities by 27 to 29 percent relative to states with no laws and by over 20 percent relative to states with partial laws"

I suspect the reason most riders forego a helmet is they just don't think they will have a wreck. Actually, I think there is something to this excuse. For example, there are well over 4 million register motorcycles in the U.S., and only around 5-6 thousand people will die in a crash in a given year. On average, only 12-13 motorcyclists die a day.[2] So, of all the millions of motorcycle trips happening per day, only a dozen or so of them are going to die on that day? Actually, those are extraordinarily good odds in favor of the person not wearing a helmet, at least that they won't die.

But what about injuries? I didn't immediately find statistics for this, but in Calif. it looks like the deaths to injury ratio is 1:22. So a reasonable per day injury rate would be around 270 or so. Again, extraordinarily good odds on any given day that a helmet-less rider climbs on a motorcycle. (Interestingly, while I consider this a statistically rational defense for not wearing a helmet, I myself am so irrationally risk averse that I wear one anyway.)

There are also "substantial differences across gender as regards donors and death rates. In every year, men account for roughly 90 percent of all motorcycle fatalities but only two-thirds of deaths in other types of vehicles," which is not too surprising, given even a casual glance at riders out the car window, or at a local bike showroom on Saturday mornings. Yes, there are more men riders, and men are far more prone to taking risks; but still, the study notes, "helmet laws decrease motorcycle fatalities roughly proportionately for men and women."

With four million registered bikes, there certainly are lot of motorcycle riders out there[3] But what if there were absolutely no mandated helmet laws? Among the conclusions of the study: "Estimates imply that nationwide elimination of helmet laws would increase annual organ donations by less than one percent." I found that surprising. Of course, if all states had opt-out organ donation laws, instead of opt-in laws, I'm sure there would be a much larger effect, but then donations via motorcycle casualties still probably wouldn't be significant in that case, since there would be many more organs available for transplant anyway.

O.

REFERENCES

[image] "This was worn by Dave Swisher who, at last count, has north of 1 million miles under his belt." melm00se democraticunderground.com July 31, 2009 (Accessed October 18, 2009)

[1] Stacy Dickert-Conlin, Todd Elder and Brian Moore "Donorcycles: Do Motorcycle Helmet Laws Reduce Organ Donations?" (.PDF) Michigan State University June 10, 2009 (Accessed October 18, 2009)

[2] L.A. Motorcycle Lawyers - Detailed Motorcycle Injury Statistics (Accessed, October 18, 2009)

[3] There are some interesting, if unsettling trends in motorcycle fatalities: "Motorcycle crash-related fatalities have been increasing since 1997, while injuries have been increasing since 1999. More than 100,000 motorcyclists have died in traffic crashes since the enactment of the Highway Safety Act and the National Traffic and Motor Vehicle Safety Act of 1966. " (source: National Highway Traffic Safety Administration: Motorcycle Safety Program.) As the NHTSA graph shows, people apparently born to be wild again after 1997:

The ethics of getting tested for Alzheimer's

The New York Times is reporting that European researchers have discovered two genetic variants for Alzheimer's which "account for about 20 percent of the genetic risk of the disease." A second research team has also found one of the variants, as well as an additional one of their own.[1]

Not surprisingly, this brings up the old question--would you want to get tested for having a disease for which there is no cure? As in all Ethical issues, I imagine that people's intuitions would differ on this matter. For example, a young, single person might think that the knowledge of an event which is very far off could only lower the quality of life in the here and now. But an older person with lots of family members reliant on his income or status might consider it a prudent way of managing an otherwise uncontrollable end.

A relevant consideration is Alzheimer's cost:

"In a 1994 report from the American Journal of Public Health on the economical and social costs of Alzheimer’s, it was the third most expensive disease in the United States after heart disease and cancer. They reported that the average lifetime cost of care for an Alzheimer’s patient is $174,000 with a two to twenty year life expectancy after diagnosis. This figure does not include the loss of wages both for the Alzheimer’s sufferer or the caregiver."[2]

Given this, some might argue that there is an ethical imperative to get tested early, no matter what your age. Health care costs go up as the symptoms of Alzheimer's worsen. The earlier somebody is diagnosed, the better position they will be in to financially prepare for when it occurs. Therefore, in a medical system which is partially reliant on taxpayers (i.e. in Medicare), one owes it to the financially supporting community to put all information on the table.

Consider a somewhat parallel case where one owes the community an acknowledgment of any blood disease when donating blood, since tainted blood would immediately harm those in the community. Alzheimer's also harms the community, though its peculiar harm is merely financial. Does that make a difference in the imperative to get tested?

O.

REFERENCES

[image] Jim Baen's Universe Blog

[1] Nicholas Wade "Scientists Connect Gene Variations to Alzheimer’s" New York Times Sept. 6, 2009.


[2] Carolyn Dean, MD "The High Cost of Alzheimer’s" everything.com (Accessed Sept. 6, 2009)

A few calmly considered thoughts about evidence and ethics

One must separate the motivations of people's good behaviors from the logic which entails those behaviors. If one wishes those good behaviors to continue - and here I am using 'good' in the ethical sense - then a reinforcement of those motivating reasons itself is good, no matter the evidential value of those reasons.

Doing the right thing for the wrong reason -- and here I am using 'wrong' in the evidential sense of 'bad reasoning' - is by far the normal activity of people everywhere across this world and thru its history. Indeed, this is the essence of Religion.

Certain kinds of people want others to do the right thing for the right reason (the former 'right' being ethical, the latter 'right' being evidential), but these people live in a fantasy world of idealistic optimism (perhaps a kind of religion in itself); consequently, they are continually disappointed with those around them. Although introducing better evidence and teaching critical thinking skills is desirable when appropriate, a realist about human nature recognizes the social prudence of reinforcing motivations which allow such good behaviors to continue unabated. This is the essence of Pragmatism.

O.

[image] Max Oppenheimer Die Schachpartie 1885-1954

Commitments to knowledge and defaults to knowledge

I've been reading in epistemology lately, and shall be doing so regularly for a while yet. I've seen a couple of moves which strike me as puzzling.

First, it's claimed by some writers that knowledge has a normative element. Apparently, when I assert a claim to knowledge, I am making a "commitment" to truth, that (on the basis of evidence) I am "entitled" to this commitment, and that I have a "right" to believe it. Such strange talk! When I claim to "know" something, I certainly feel I'm correct, that the world is a certain way, but I don't feel like I'm making an ethical claim. Can one make an ethical claim and not be aware of doing it? Suppose I'm saying to the janitor, in the act of handing her the object in question, "The trash can is here," which I would claim to know. Am I making a commitment, or feeling entitled or asserting a right to my belief that the trash can is at a certain place? I think not. I am disposed to think a certain way about the world when I make a knowledge claim, but that I'm committed, entitled, asserting a right, etc. -- that would be a very odd way of talking about what I'm doing in making a knowledge claim. Odd because I'm not doing that. I somehow think others are not doing it either. Why is it that people so quickly want to artificially inject ethics into everything?

Second, I've seen it claimed that, lacking any other contextual cues, any assertion I make is tacitly defaulted to a knowledge claim. Really? In the normal course of my daily utterances, anything I say is a claim to knowledge? Automatically unless shown otherwise? Now that's a strong claim! I think it's fair to say I'm asserting a belief in what I say, and that I've a certain level of psychological attachment to what I say. "Yes, Pat, I think the trash can is right behind the filing cabinet." Do I claim to know that? Often, I don't even consider the epistemic status of what I say. After the fact I might say I was psychologically assured of my statement to Pat, and that I indeed believed it. But to claim that I knew something or that I was asserting a knowledge claim at that instant is way over-stated. I can't see why some writers in epistemology want to make such assured claims about people's utterances. What surveys or psychological studies show that this is the default way that people view their utterances? I sure don't see them giving any citations to this effect.

O.

Ethics: damned utilitarian if you do; damned by utilitarians if you don't

For sometime it has been known that the brain is divided up into specialized modules. For example, vision is processed in the back of the brain, while abstract reasoning and planning is processed primarily in the front of the brain. And more basic emotions, such as fear and anger, are controlled by the limbic system, which roughly occupies the center of the brain. However, even further advances in brain function have revealed some vexing issues for ethics.

Consider the an old standby, double-sided thought experiment that challenges those who think ethics is merely a version of risk assessment or a type of pain/pleasure accounting.

First, imagine that you're standing next to a fork in the train-tracks, and before you is a lever that changes the direction the train will take. Sadly, the train can not be stopped, and if left to progress along its path, it will run over and kill 5 people standing at the end of the tracks. But if you pull the lever the train will change directions, killing but a single person standing at the other side of that fork. What do you do?

Second, take the train situation again, but this time you're standing on a bridge which crosses over the tracks. Also, there's only one direction the train can go; still, at the end there are 5 people that will be killed. You know that the only way to stop the train is by throwing some sort of heavy object in it's path. Alas, the only heavy object at your disposal at the moment happens to be a very portly man standing next to you on the bridge. What do you do?

If you survey people, a bit under 90% will pull the lever to save the five people, and kill the one person in the first scenario. But over 90% of the people will refuse to push the portly man over the bridge to save the second group of five. The odd problem is that a merely bean counting view of ethics, attending to just the risks or the consequences, should result in the scenarios being assessed the same: one dies, and five live! But, in fact, this is not how people actually behave. Therefore, ethical assessment is not analogous, say, to financial assessment.

Brain scientists have an explanation for why this is so, and thus why ethics must be something other than bottom-line type thinking. Some of our reasoned ethical decisions are processed in one area (at least) in the brain, but some are also processed in a more specific part -- the ventromedial prefrontal cortex, which has to do with guilt, shame, and compassion. Both general reasoning and the unique emotions particular to humans are essential marks of our species, but neither can be easily argued to trump the other for decision making. This is why the train experiments cause us such consternation. Ethics is a troublesome business, but when recent developments in brain science are thrown in, we recognize just how much subtlety there really is to moral choice.


O.

[image] by Gary Larson, from David O. Brink "Philosophy 13: Ethics, Fall Quarter, 2003" (Accessed July 14,2008)

'Association' is preferable over 'Community'

I like 'associations' better than communities. A union of persons in a company or society for some particular purpose prevents the rise of group think. In associations, when the explicit purpose is no longer evident, one is freed from the ties of a value system that might no longer serve individual interests. New social contracts can then be initiated by autonomous individuals for new purposes. The idea that I must (or might need to) subordinate my interests for the benefit of the whole compromises my freedom of movement, and somehow assumes the group is of more value than the individual. Groups don't have value; only people have value.

I am against egoism; it's wrong to be selfish. But that does not mean one must be duty-bound to any socially-imposed morality. Nor are people somehow moral atoms, for humans are social creatures that need others to identify and reach their potential as individuals. (Ayn Rand, for example, was too simplistic of a thinker to recognize this.) Reasonable individuals, when allowed to determine their own goals, are in the best position to identify their own purposes. Again, this makes voluntary 'associations' the best vehicle. There are other reasonable people in this world, and I want them to have the same opportunity to set goals and identify purposes as I do. Communities make it too hard to reset goals and identify individual purposes. Associations allow flexibility.

I am not advocating relativism, either; for, an external society should interfere in an individual's acts, but only when a very compelling need to do so arises (such as someone threatening a person's life, or commonly granted freedom of movement, or pursuit of others' fair resources for self-advancement.)

This is why the whole emphasis on 'community' creeps me out, especially when repeated as a mantra by religious people.

REFERENCES

[image] "Walking Man" http://www.traveladventures.org/





O.

Transhumanism and the so-called "future good" of humanity.

{ Podcast this essay } I hear lots of college age people (generally earlier in their college careers) claim that moral values are relative, and that people in different cultures have the varying moral values they do because they were raised in different ways. This can be treated as a hypothesis, and if correct, we would not expect to find a core of moral values shared across cultures. However, and contra to naive opinion, we do, in fact, find a core of moral values shared across cultures. Thus, people in different cultures do not have significantly varying moral values because of being raised in different ways.

Donald E. Brown is an anthropologist and has identified many emotions and moral concepts which are universally noted among humans:

"a distinction between right and wrong; empathy; fairness; admiration of generosity; rights and obligations; proscription of murder, rape and other forms of violence; redress of wrongs; sanctions for wrongs against the community; shame; and taboos."[1]

Other anthropologists have cataloged similar universals. I think such studies are indeed enough to show that human morality isn't relative, but I don't think its enough to show that the values themselves are not relative. If human values are formed by the successful reproduction and survival calculi of evolution-- that people have the values they do because such values contributed to their success as biological beings -- then its possible that in the future a different set of core, shared values could arise.

It might be that, as humans move out into space and radically modify their form by bio-engeenering and technology, those next generation humans will have likewise next generation shared values. I'm not sure what those values would be, and perhaps the state of my brain, formed by the biological past that it has, actually cannot imagine those values. If it is true that current humans cannot image the values systems of what future humans or human-originated creatures might be, this would be bad news for transhumanists (sometimes called "post-humanists"). Transhumanists seem to say that rational modification and enhancement of human capabilities is a good project. But good in what sense? It seems odd to say that what we perceive as good now, would indeed be good later. At least this is what Transhumanists seem to be committed to when they say such modification is a good project.

Consider an investment analogy: Putting money into some stock now is good, since it has been going up recently. (Where 'good' is defined as 'profitable'.) But that does not mean putting money into the stock now will be good -- i.e. profitable -- later. Circumstances of a company and of the company's environment can change radically. Typically, one would counter, "When the company no longer is good, do not keep putting money in it." But here is where the analogy can point out the problem with transhumanism: In the stock case, there is but one investor making the decision, but suppose there were several in a historical line, a string of investors, stretching into the future, but each with a slightly different investment strategy. Mr. A is a bit like Mr. B in his strategy, and B a bit like C, and C to D, and etc. on to the far future of Mr. R. But each strategy is only a family resemblance to the precursors. In fact, given enough tiny changes over time, Mr. R. could actually have a contradictory strategy to Mr. A, the initial investor!

To apply the analogy, then, the values of the present core of humanity (situation A) could be radically different, even completely contradictory, to future humanity (situation R). Therefore, it seems quite naive to agree with Transhumanists that rational modification and enhancement of human capabilities is a 'good' project for humanity's future. There might be other bases to advocate for modification and enhancement of human capabilities, but some future 'good' to the next human (or human-like) situation likely isn't one of them.


REFERENCES

[image] "Terminator: Sara Conner Chronicles" Fox.com (Accessed 1/14/2008)

[1] Stephen Pinker "The Moral Instinct" New York Times Jan. 13, 2008 (Accessed 1/14/2008)


O.

Attitude and Ethics

{ Podcast this essay } Suppose a person far more powerful than myself were to suddenly grab me, overwhelm me, and do some evil deed. Perhaps they would grab my arm and beat someone to death. Or perhaps they would work me like a puppet somehow. Would I be responsible for the consequences? I don't think so, at least at first glance.

Suppose I would try to resist, but to no avail. Then, of course, no one would say I was ethically accountable. One ought to be held accountable for what one can control. And I can't control what this powerful person is doing to me. Therefore, I ought not be held accountable for it. At first glance this seems right.

Recently I was on a trip to Boston, and I rode the subway. The platform of the subway was very crowed during the end of the work day. Suppose someone had pushed me from behind, and the force of their push had toppled me into someone in front of myself. And that poor someone fell onto the tracks and was crushed by the train.

No one would say I was to be held accountable for what happened, but the person behind me would be held accountable for what happened. In this case, it was presumed I was pushed inadvertently into a innocent bystander. Perhaps I would have protested along the way.

But now let us vary the scenario a bit. Suppose I am standing on a subway, and I see someone in front of me, known to be a heinous serious killer who got off on a technicality. Perhaps he has a dastardly look on his face. Perhaps I recently heard him whisper to an accomplice that he is going to kill again as soon as he gets the opportunity.

Again, Dick the Bruiser, sneaks up behind me and pushes me forward. I recognize Mr. Bruiser's grasp; I recall, and note yet again, his power at propelling me forward toward the person in front of me -- albeit, this time a serial killer. Past experience and attestation by expert witnesses agreed the first time Mr. Bruiser pushed me that there was nothing I could have done about it. He was just so huge.

This time, however, I recall all this, but I see where I'm being pushed. Even though I can't stop it, and even though I'm not responsible for starting it, I find I'm now glad Mr. Bruiser has pushed me. Quickly, and along the way as he's hurling my body into this serial killer, before the platform drops onto the tracks, I say, "Yes, Mr. Bruiser. Push harder. Faster!" All the while agreeing with him, all the while knowing (counterfactually) there is nothing I can do to stop him.

Again, the inevitable collision. Again, a body drops onto the tracks. But this time it is the body of a serial killer. The train runs over him. But in this case society has been granted an advantage by such a man's death.

Again, the question is asked: would I be ethical responsible for the serial killer's death? Ought implies can. I ought to be held accountable for something I could have stopped. It has already been stipulated there is no way I could have stopped this.

I enjoyed the inevitable outcome. It seems, therefore, even though I might be in agreement with the outcome; even though it might be held that the outcome was unethical -- killing a person arbitrarily without due processes seems about as unethical as could be in otherwise civil circumstances.

Now people might not approve of my attitude toward this. One should perhaps always have a revulsion toward unethical acts which end in the death, even murder of another person. And it is this very revulsion at the possibility, even likelihood, of further deaths at the hands of this serial killer which brought me to such a celebratory state upon being pushed again by Mr. Bruiser.

Certainly Mr. Bruiser would be rightfully held guilty. He didn't have the set-up that I had. He didn't hear the whispering of the serial killer to his friend. He didn't have the relevant moral knowledge, perhaps, that the serial killer was rightly accounted as guilty. So Mr. Bruiser would be send to prison, and rightly so.

I would, perhaps, be socially condemned, but there are seemingly no grounds to convict me. There was nothing I could have done about it. Furthermore, people are not held legally accountable for their emotional responses to certain circumstances. People are held accountable for their actions. This might be just a claim about legal ethics, and not ethics proper. As a legal matter, it would not be right to hold someone accountable to the state for their emotive responses.

Still, perhaps, as an ethical matter, we should see ourselves as somehow flawed when we enjoy being a part of unethical circumstances, even if we cannot stop or interfere with ongoing circumstances into which we are involuntarily drawn.

REFERENCES

[image] "Boston Subway" Flickr by saaam Uploaded on July 27, 2005.


O.