(9789042027398 - Cutting Through The Surface) Cutting Through The Surface
(9789042027398 - Cutting Through The Surface) Cutting Through The Surface
(9789042027398 - Cutting Through The Surface) Cutting Through The Surface
the Surface
Volume 211
Robert Ginsberg
Founding Editor
Leonidas Donskis
Executive Editor
Associate Editors
a volume in
Values in Bioethics
ViB
Matti Häyry and Tuija Takala, Editors
Edited by
Tuija Takala, Peter Herissone-Kelly,
and Søren Holm
The paper on which this book is printed meets the requirements of “ISO
9706:1994, Information and documentation - Paper for documents -
Requirements for permanence”.
ISBN: 978-90-420-2739-8
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Preface xiii
Part One
WHAT IS BIOETHICS AND WHERE SHOULD IT BE GOING?
Part Two
HOW TO DO BIOETHICS?
Part Three
DIGNITY, PRECAUTION, AND SOLIDARITY
TWELVE Will You Still Need Me, Will You Still Feed Me,
When I’m 64? An Ethical Problem for the Modern
Cosmopolitan Academic
SØREN HOLM
1. Introduction 111
Part Four
TESTS AND EXPERIMENTS
Part Five
RATIONALITY, MORALITY, AND REPRODUCTION
Part Six
PHILOSOPHICAL RESPONSES TO ENHANCEMENTS
TWENTY–
ONE Do We Have an Obligation to Make Smarter Babies?
LISA BORTOLOTTI
1. Introduction 221
2. Moral Reasons for Enhancing 222
3. Moral Reasons Not to Enhance 225
4. Commodification of Children 228
5. Conclusion 229
TWENTY–
TWO Youthful Looks—No Matter What It Costs?
HETA ALEKSANDRA GYLLING
1. Introduction 231
2. The Boundaries of Rationality 232
3. From Treatment to Aesthetic Enhancement 233
4. Social Competition, Economic Pressure 236
TWENTY–
THREE New Life Forms: Min or Max Cyborgs?
TIMO AIRAKSINEN
1. Introduction 239
2. Two Views on Cyborg Metaphysics 239
3. Evaluating New Life Forms 244
Index 255
theories. (If the authors in this volume are correct, my thinking has during the
last twenty years moved from a humane, positive mixture of liberalism and
consequentialism to a grimmer, negative version of “Schopenhauerian utilitari-
anism”—which I did not know existed but which sounds intriguing.) As for
applying moral theories to practice, however, the difficulty of incompatible
normative premises looms large. To illustrate, consider the following three
questions: “Why should I value dignity?” “Why should I value happiness?”
“Why should I value tradition?” In conflict situations, responses to these vary
from “I should not” to “Because it defines me as a person,” with little under-
standing between people who answer the questions differently. Since the con-
cepts of dignity, happiness, and tradition mark, however, the main strands in
contemporary normative philosophical bioethics, it is unlikely that everyone
will agree on practical conclusions reached by champions of just one funda-
mental notion.
People with more practical aims in mind have tried to bypass this prob-
lem by introducing a plethora of theoretically less demanding principles,
agreeable to most and applicable to the bioethical issues that we face. This has
led to the invention of the ethics of autonomy, beneficence, justice, care, trust,
precaution, solidarity, vulnerability, and many others. As long as everyone
remembers that all these words—like dignity, happiness, and tradition—have
several meanings, their use in bioethical discussions is an unmixed blessing.
New terms draw attention to new dimensions in ethical dilemmas and have a
great potential of facilitating understanding. More caution is needed with nor-
mative results that are based on one particular principle or set of principles,
interpreted in a way that excludes all other readings.
A theme explored in many chapters of this book is reproductive responsi-
bility. Five years ago I published a short provocation arguing that if a certain
popular view of rationality is correct and if a certain moral stance is tenable
then it is irrational and immoral to have children. My commentators show
conclusively that the positions on rationality and morality that I used are not
universally accepted and that there are alternative outlooks according to which
it is usually alright to make babies. While this reaction is unsurprising and
perfectly compatible with my conditional thesis, the exciting detail here is to
see how difficult it is to justify, by philosophical arguments, a simple everyday
choice like the decision to have children.
My heartfelt thanks are due to the authors and editors of this wonderful
collection of essays. I hope that others will enjoy reading it as much as I did.
Matti Häyry
Helsinki, July 2009
BIOETHICS:
WHAT LIES UNDER THE SURFACE?
Tuija Takala, Peter Herissone-Kelly, and Søren Holm
In 2003 Rodopi published a book edited by Matti Häyry and Tuija Takala ti-
tled Scratching the Surface of Bioethics. In the current volume, the aim is to
dig deeper and to understand more about the elusive discipline called bio-
ethics. Obviously bioethics is not only an academic field of study—or rather a
cluster of academic disciplines—but also covers a number of practices from
clinical bed-side bioethics to the work of regulative and legislative committees.
The latter are not, however, the topic of this book. While the theoretical and
practical sides of bioethics can and should learn from each other, the academic
work has its own strict requirements concerning coherence, conceptual clarity,
and validity of arguments that should not bend to accommodate practical con-
cerns. Similarly, the nuances of practical problems should not be forgotten in
attempts to use theories to solve questions in practical settings. This book is
about the academic side of bioethics and more specifically about philosophical
bioethics. While some of the papers study the interplay of the different ap-
proaches, the methods are those of philosophical bioethics.
Sometimes philosophical bioethics seems to be mere rhetoric, and indeed
a skilled philosopher can twist and turn concepts, words, and arguments to jus-
tify almost any normative statement. However, one of the aims of this book is
to show that bioethics should and can be more. In its 23 chapters bioethical
theories, concepts, methods, values, principles, and norms are studied with
adherence to the requirements of the discipline, yet with an understanding that
the issues discussed are not pure abstractions, but refer to the often very seri-
ous issues dealt with by actual people in the real world.
1. What Is Bioethics?
The first three chapters deal with the question “What is bioethics and where
should it be going?” In the opening chapter Sirkku Hellsten studies the very
name of the field and its various usages. She suggests that much of the confu-
sion in bioethics is caused by lack of common understanding of what the word
“bioethics” means. In the article she explicates and explains the different
meanings and roles given to “bioethics.” In conclusion she envisages a future
where the different approaches to bioethics can complement one another, but
wishes to reserve a special place for philosophy because of the importance
given to reflection and critical analysis in that field of study.
In his contribution, Sven Ove Hansson presents us with a new approach
to ethics. He shows how the traditional distinction between moral philosophy
and applied ethics in its various forms fails to respond to the need to create
ethics that is relevant to the constantly changing social and natural environ-
ment.
In chapter three Harry Lesser takes a closer look at the theories of liberal-
ism and utilitarianism with a view to discovering whether they can be com-
bined to tackle bioethical problems. His suggestion for a way forward is a
partnership model rising from a Millian type of liberal utilitarianism that could
replace the old paternalistic attitudes without collapsing into pure consumer-
ism.
2. How to Do Bioethics?
Chapters four to seven deal with ways of doing bioethics. The chapters by
Veikko Launis and Juha Räikkä look at methodological issues, while Pekka
Louhiala and Leila Toiviainen approach bioethics from the viewpoints of a
medical doctor and a nurse, respectively.
The principlist approach to bioethics divides philosophers; some believe
that it can solve all bioethical problems whilst others think that it creates more
problems than it solves. In his paper, Veikko Launis offers a modest defense of
the approach by showing how two of the main objections against principlism
fail to prove the approach to be theoretically inadequate. Contrary to many
critics, he finds the “lightness” of the principles quite bearable. In chapter five,
Juha Räikkä examines the method of “wide reflective equilibrium.” While he
recognizes the strengths of the method he also claims that one’s arguments are
not made better by knowledge of methodological issues.
In his contribution, Pekka Louhiala studies the role of philosophers in
medical ethics. He argues that both philosophers and medical doctors have a
role in medical ethics and that they should acknowledge each others’ value. In
the following chapter Leila Toiviainen calls for recognition for nursing ethics.
She sees the nurse’s position as unique within the field of health care and holds
that bioethics needs more input from nursing.
The contributors of part three of the book have been, at least partly, prompted
to write their contributions by Matti Häyry’s work on the concepts of dignity,
precaution, and solidarity. 2 The part opens with an analysis of the concept of
dignity by Simon Woods. In his chapter Woods sets out to defend the con-
cept’s usefulness in bioethics against some well-known claims to the contrary.
Woods grants that there is some vagueness to the concept, but he holds that
there is also significant moral substance to it that cannot be captured by alter-
native notions. In the following chapter Niall Scott continues on the same
theme, by adding the notions of autonomy and freedom into the picture. He
defends a Kantian notion of autonomy that upholds a person’s dignity and can
sometimes limit that person’s freedom. Restricting someone’s freedom is not,
however, according to him an ethical but a practical question.
Michael Parker and Paolo Vineis turn our attention to the principle of
precaution. They show how the current versions of the principle rest upon con-
testable claims, but continue their scrutiny by showing how, properly under-
stood, the principle of precaution can be a valuable tool for assessing the ac-
ceptability of science and technology.
Chapters eleven and twelve have in common the ideas of solidarity and
justice. In his contribution, Vilhjálmur Árnason studies Nordic healthcare sys-
tems and their struggle to justify prioritization. He argues that the Rawlsian
notion of justice can, both as a procedural notion and as a critical idea, help the
Nordic states maintain the solidarity of the systems.
Søren Holm discusses the problem of how to justify care for the elderly
within a liberal framework. In the course of his chapter he shows how truly
liberal justifications for the current welfare system are hard to come by and
that also the cosmopolitan, liberal academic needs to rely on illiberal state en-
forced beneficence and, though he does not use the word, solidarity, to help
him in old age.
The chapters in part four of the book are interested in the notion of eradicating
disease. In chapter thirteen, Margaret Battin and her colleagues study the ethi-
cal acceptability of large-scale rapid testing for infectious disease. They argue
that the possibility of ridding ourselves of (many) infectious diseases is so
beneficial that even a “decade of infectious-disease inconvenience” (minor
infringements on liberty, privacy, and even justice) should be accepted.
John Harris looks at the ethics of animal testing through a report by the
Nuffield Council in the United Kingdom. In his analysis he highlights various
inconsistencies in the report and argues that the main issue that needs to be
solved to settle the question of whether using (some/all) animals in research is
justified is their moral status.
The last chapter of the part is by Rosamond Rhodes and tackles the issue
of using human beings as research subjects. Rhodes argues that scientific re-
search should be seen as a collaborative project in which researchers and re-
search subjects have a shared interest in the advancement of medical sciences.
NOTES
1. Ronnie James Dio, lyrics, “Heaven and Hell” from the album Heaven and Hell
by Black Sabbath (Vertigo, 1980).
2. E.g., Matti Häyry, “European Values in Bioethics: Why, What, and How to be
Used?” Theoretical Medicine and Bioethics 24 (2003), pp. 199–214; Matti Häyry, “An-
other Look at Dignity,” Cambridge Quarterly of Healthcare Ethics, 13 (2004), pp. 7–
14; Matti Häyry, “Precaution and Solidarity,” Cambridge Quarterly of Healthcare Eth-
ics, 15 (2005), pp. 199–205; Matti Häyry, “The Tension Between Self-Governance and
Absolute Inner Worth in Kant’s Moral Philosophy,” Journal of Medical Ethics, 31
(2005), pp. 645–647.
3. Matti Häyry, “If You Must Make Babies, Then at Least Make the Best Babies
You Can?” Human Fertility, 7 (2004), pp. 105–112; Matti Häyry, “A Rational Cure for
Pre-Reproductive Stress Syndrome,” Journal of Medical Ethics, 30 (2004), pp. 377–
378; see also Matti Häyry, “The Rational Cure for Pre-Reproductive Stress Syndrome
Revisited,” Journal of Medical Ethics, 31 (2005), pp. 606–607; Matti Häyry, “An
Analysis of Some Arguments For and Against Human Reproduction,” Arguments and
Analysis in Bioethics, eds. Matti Häyry, Tuija Takala, Peter Herissone-Kelly, and
Gardar Árnason (Amsterdam and New York: Rodopi, 2009), pp. 167–175.
1. Introduction
In this chapter I shall discuss how the definition of “bioethics” affects the prac-
tice and use of bioethical research today. As an academic field of study, bio-
ethics covers a multiplicity of disciplines and a diversity of professional prac-
tices. It also encompasses a wealth of ethical views and belief systems. De-
pending on whether bioethics is studied or practiced by people working as
heath care practitioners and medical researchers, or as philosophers, lawyers,
theologians, and policy-makers, ideas on what is meant by “bioethics” vary
greatly, as does understanding of the main concepts of bioethics.
There is no comprehensively shared understanding of what bioethics
really is even among those who are one way or another involved in the disci-
pline. Further there is no clear agreement on who “does” or “practices” bio-
ethics, or indeed who should do or practice it. “Bioethicists” themselves also
have different ideas on what it is that they actually do—or are supposed to do.
There are debates concerning whether bioethics is—or should be—descriptive
or prescriptive, what methodology is to be used in bioethical inquiry, and
about what the goals of “bioethics” are.
This diversity of views and approaches to bioethics has led to a situation
in which discussions on bioethical topics easily lose their focus, and turn into
non-argumentative accounts of diverse views on different ethical questions.
“Bioethics” as an academic discipline has gradually lost some of its earlier
reflective edge. It now has a tendency to fall into epistemological and ethical
relativism and uncritically support all possible approaches to the issues with
which it deals. It no longer matters whether different views are validly argued
for or not. Whether they rely on an analytical, empirical, or intuitive method of
verification, they are all considered “equally valuable” and thus, “equally
right.” This chapter argues that if we cannot define what “bioethics” is all
about in the first place, we cannot expect to have clear arguments that one or
another form of bioethics is normatively more plausible than all others, or even
logically more coherent. Thus, I suggest, if we want to make bioethics research
to have) that meaning in the language in which it is used. For example, “abor-
tion” can be defined as “a ruthless murdering of an innocent human being,” or
as “a safe and established surgical procedure whereby a woman is relieved of
an unwanted burden,” or as “a medical termination of pregnancy.” 3
– the study of the ethical, social, legal, philosophical and other related
issues arising in the biological sciences and in health care.
The term “bioethics” was invented in 1970 by Van Rensselaer Potter, an on-
cology research scientist with a wide interest in biology and human values.
Around the same time it was used by a Dutch physiologist and obstetrician
Andre Hellegers, who referred with “bioethics” to a new discipline that com-
bines “biological knowledge with the knowledge of human value system” and
which would therefore build a bridge between the sciences and humanities;
help humanity to survive and sustain and improve the civilized world.
– the word bioethics stems from two Greek words; “bios,” which means
life, and “ethikos,” which means ethics or mores. Thus, the study of bio-
ethics unites multiple fields: medical treatment, mores, politics, finance,
and philosophy in holistic situations, and also considers issues about pub-
lic policies.
– the study of ethical issues arising in the practice of the biological dis-
ciplines. These include medicine, nursing, and other health care profes-
sions, including veterinary medicine, and medical and other biological or
life sciences.
– bioethics concerns the relationships between biology, medicine, cyber-
netics, politics, law, ethics, philosophy, and theology. 6
While the above-mentioned definitions have a lot in common, they also have
their differences, particularly in the focus they take. Disagreement also exists
about the proper scope for the application of ethical evaluation to questions
involving biology and the medical sciences. Some bioethicists would narrow
the scope of such evaluation to include only the morality of medical treatments
or technological innovations, and focus on the ethical aspects of medical prac-
tice, as well as the use and application of medical technology and medicine in
general in a society. Other bioethicists would broaden the scope of ethical
evaluation to include the morality of all actions that might help or harm organ-
isms capable of feeling fear and pain. In its broadest sense, bioethics appears to
cover almost all aspects of ethics, since ethics must be related to issues that
involve human life, death, and suffering, as well as environmental values and
the moral status of animals. In general, all definitions of “bioethics” make
mention of value-related studies in bio- and life sciences. Most definitions
agree that bioethics involves philosophy, but they hardly claim it to be phi-
losophical study—or even an application of philosophical ethics. None of the
above definitions restricts the methodology to be used to philosophical analy-
sis. Instead, they focus on the topics of bioethics: ethical, legal, philosophical
(and so on) issues or questions involved in the (bio)sciences.
human dignity exists, that human life is worthy of respect, and so on. These are
principles that can be accepted on faith and are not a matter of scientific fact.
Secular ethicists might, however, try to build a consistent argumentative de-
fense of the principles in which they believe. They might be believers in liber-
alism, utilitarianism, or Kantian deontology, and believe in the supremacy of
one particular political or ethical framework over the others. Secular bioethics
may also ignore the role of truly reflective philosophical analysis. 10
6. Bioethics or Biopolitics?
7. Conclusion
The original role of bioethics was to engage in debates on ethical issues and
values related to biosciences and to life (and death) in general, without indoc-
trinating or promoting specific ethical positions, unless those positions were
themselves critically analyzed and examined. For this, analytical philosophical
reflection on the issues of definitions, arguments, and logic was needed. The
problems in finding a commonly agreed definition of “bioethics” have, how-
ever, gradually led away from reflective philosophical analysis which could
have, among other things, helped in finding consistent legal guidelines and
policy recommendations.
Instead, today we can detect two main polarized ways of doing “bio-
ethics”: abstract theoretical speculation detached from reality on the one hand,
and political pragmatism on the other. In order to build a bridge between these
extremes, there is a need to bring reflection and argumentation back to bio-
ethics, in a manner that does not turn the discipline into an abstract and over-
intellectualized philosophical game that has nothing to do with the context in
which ethical questions arise. Bioethics should not go to the other extreme ei-
ther and take a strong relativist stance that confuses ethical decision-making
with unsupported “opinionism” based on a naively pragmatic approach that
compares making ethical choices with choosing between flavors of ice-cream.
Anthropologists can help us to see the cultural embeddedness of our ethical
theory, but we still need philosophical reflection and logic to make sense out
of entangled arguments and confusion in the use of concepts, and to under-
stand the differences in our values. If we want to have meaningful bioethical
inquiry, we need to focus more on critical philosophical analysis of ethics
within the scope of life sciences. This includes the analytical testing of the
plausibility of the suggested definitions and of the arguments based on these
definitions. Perhaps a good place to start would be with the definition of “bio-
ethics” itself.
NOTES
1. Introduction
2. Professional Ethics
has obvious advantages. Each of these professions has responsibilities that can
be seen as common concerns for members of the respective profession.
However, this delimitation of areas for ethical analysis also has disadvan-
tages. Professional ethics only develops in those social areas that have a strong
and responsible profession. Some social areas with important ethical issues do
not answer to that description. One of the best examples of this is traffic safety.
This is a subject area with many intricate ethical issues that need careful con-
sideration. However, due to the lack of a unified “traffic safety profession,”
almost no area-specific ethical discussion has taken place in this area. Other
examples are welfare provision, insurance, building and architecture, and for-
eign aid. We need ethical discussions also about social areas that do not have
strong professions who develop ethical principles for their own work.
The practitioners of professional ethics have mainly been members of the
respective profession, typically active members in various professional socie-
ties. An obvious advantage of their involvement is that they have expert
knowledge in the respective areas. Hence, physicians know the factual back-
ground of issues in medical ethics, and engineers in engineering ethics, etc. On
the other hand, their lack of background in moral theory often leads to a lack
of depth in the ethical analyses. Only rarely are persons without an education
in moral philosophy able to make a thorough ethical analysis that goes beyond
already established standpoints and arguments.
Furthermore, when the ethical issues in a subject-area are seen predomi-
nantly from the viewpoint of a particular profession, other important aspects
and perspectives may be neglected. Hence, the focus on health professionals’
perspectives in healthcare ethics has often led to neglect of ethical issues in
healthcare management and health insurance management. This is unfortunate
since it is often managers and administrators who make the most important
priority decisions in healthcare. The dominance of the perspective of health-
care professionals may also have led to neglect of issues that are best seen
from the perspective of patients. This became clear to me when I served as an
ethicist on a committee for the assessment of treatment and prevention of obe-
sity. When I contacted the patients’ organization, they brought up a number of
important ethical issues, mostly connected with how obese persons are re-
ceived in healthcare, that were not mentioned spontaneously by physicians.
Similarly, engineering ethics deals with the responsibilities of engineers,
but there are many important ethical issues in technology that do not arise pri-
marily in the activities of engineers. In summary, professional ethics is re-
stricted both in its choice of subject areas and in its perspective on the chosen
subject areas.
The typical mode of operation of professional ethics is rule-setting. Pro-
fessional organizations have largely approached ethical problems by develop-
ing codes of ethics specifying how members of the profession should behave.
They have often also appointed committees of professionals who give advice
to members.
Ethical codes can no doubt be an important factor in the professionaliza-
tion of a social activity that needs to be conducted in a competent, responsible,
and reasonably standardized fashion. They serve to remind members of a pro-
fession of ethical requirements that they should take seriously, and facilitate a
discussion of these ethical requirements in terms of general principles. It is
interesting to note that Roger Boisjoly, one of the engineers who tried to stop
the launch of the Challenger, said eleven years later in an interview that he
believed it would have made a difference if he had had an ethical code to refer
to when approaching his superiors. 1 However, ethical codes can only solve the
simple problems. The more difficult cases in professional ethics are almost
invariably dilemmatic situations in which the different parts of a code give
contradictory advice. Hence, many codes urge engineers to be loyal to their
employers and also to protect the safety of the public. It is not difficult to find
cases in which these two recommendations cannot both be fully satisfied. In
order to deal with such conflicts, ethical argumentation is needed that goes far
beyond what is contained in the code.
The relation of professional ethics to moral theory is mostly next to non-
existent. Rules for behavior are postulated rather than obtained from extended
analysis and argumentation. Such an atheoretical approach does not support a
critical analysis of norms or the development of new normative standpoints.
Ethical codes, of course, tend to codify established social norms, rather than
encourage a critical analysis of these norms. 2 This may lead to a lack of fore-
sight. When new technologies are introduced in society, we often do not have
socially accepted norms for the regulation of their use. 3 What we then need is
a thorough analysis of possible consequences and possible moral approaches.
There is one exception to the atheoretical approach in professional ethics:
In medical ethics, “intermediate principles” such as autonomy, non-
maleficence, beneficence, and justice have an important role. However, these
principles are often used as a creed rather than as tools of analysis, and aware-
ness of the potential conflicts between the four principles is often surprisingly
low. 4
3. Organizational Ethics
an important perspective for many ethical issues, but from the viewpoint of
impartial ethical analysis it is not sufficient. A full ethical account for instance
of issues related to the energy sector does not consist only of an account of
how energy companies should behave under the current political situation. It
should also include a discussion of options that are open to other decision-
makers, in particular political decision-makers who have the power to change
the rules under which these companies are operating.
The practitioners of organizational ethics are typically senior decision-
makers in the organization in question, and their advisors. Their knowledge
about the organization and its environment are of course valuable in the ethical
discussion, but just like the typical practitioners of professional ethics, they
usually lack the competence needed for a thorough ethical analysis that goes
beyond the codification of established standpoints.
In its mode of operation, organizational ethics is very similar to profes-
sional ethics. It operates by setting rules, typically in the form of codes of con-
duct, and by enforcing theses codes within the organization. Its relation to
moral theory is even less developed than that of professional ethics. There
seems to be very little contact between organizational ethics and ethics as an
academic discipline. The drawback of this is the same as for professional eth-
ics.
4. Applied Ethics
The term “applied ethics” does not seem to have been common before the
1970s. Today, it is the standard term for area-specific moral philosophy.
In practice, the subject-area of applied ethics consists almost entirely of
the fields that have been opened up by professional ethics. The majority of
philosophers who investigate ethical issues in a specific subject-area have their
focus on healthcare and related fields. They often prefer the relatively new
term “bioethics” to the older term “medical ethics.” (The term “bioethics” was
coined by Van Rensselaer Potter II, 1911-2001, in 1970. 5 )
Other areas of applied ethics include research, technology, agriculture,
and business management. It is striking that philosophers who specialize in
applied ethics have very seldom opened up new territory for ethical analysis.
Instead, they have followed the trails of the practitioners of professional ethics.
(Probably, the major exception is environmental ethics, but that area is not al-
ways counted as part of applied ethics.) As already mentioned, there are many
other subject areas that have equally important ethical problems as those that
have become areas of professional and applied ethics.
The practitioners of applied ethics are typically persons with an educa-
tion in moral philosophy. (There is also a surprising number of persons with a
religious background but with little background in—secular or theological—
ethics who are taken by themselves and many others to be experts in ethics.)
5. A New Approach
social, and behavioral scientists and with practitioners in various social areas.
Its mode of operation should be to analyze problems and to develop and dis-
cuss alternative standpoints in moral issues. Its relation to moral theory should
be that of driving the development of new moral theory.
Ethics is a large research area, and the proposed unified discipline will be
so large that specializations are necessary. For want of a better term I propose
to use the term “specialized ethics” to denote ethical studies that have their
focus on a particular social area. Obviously, health ethics should be one such
specialty. This term is preferable to “medical ethics” that has a too strong con-
nection to the profession-oriented perspective on health and disease. As al-
ready indicated, ethical issues that lie outside the purview of the medical and
nursing professions are worth more attention than what they have usually ob-
tained in ethical studies of healthcare. This includes large-scale economic deci-
sions on healthcare, access to enabling technologies, strategic decisions in the
development of new medical technologies, etc. 12
Another important area for specialized ethics is the ethical study of tech-
nology. Instead of the term “engineering ethics,” with its strong focus on the
perspective of the engineering profession, I propose that the term “technoeth-
ics” be used do denote this area of research. Since technology is pivotal in so-
cial change, moral philosophy cannot deal adequately with the ethical prob-
lems of our changing society without making technoethics a central aspect of
the discipline, rather than the marginalized application area that it is today.
6. Conclusion
NOTES
3. W. F. Ogburn (ed.), Social Change With Regard to Cultural and Original Na-
ture (New York: Dell Publishing Company, 1966); James Moor, “What is Computer
Ethics?” Metaphilosophy, 16 (1985), pp. 266–275.
4. Tuija Takala, “What Is Wrong with Global Bioethics? On the Limitations of
the Four Principles Approach,” Cambridge Quarterly of Healthcare Ethics, 10 (2001),
pp. 72–77.
5. V. R. Potter, “Bioethics: The Science of Survival,” Perspectives in Biology and
Medicine, 14 (1970), pp. 127–153; W. T. Reich, “The Word ‘Bioethics’: its Birth and
the Legacies of Those Who Shaped It,” Kennedy Institute of Ethics Journal, 4 (1994),
pp. 319–35; W. T. Reich, “The Word ‘Bioethics’: The Struggle Over its Earliest Mean-
ings,” Kennedy Institute of Ethics Journal, 5 (1995), pp. 19–34.
6. Donald Gotterbarn, “The Moral Responsibility of Software Developers,” Jour-
nal of Information Ethics, 4 (1995), pp. 54–64.
7. Bernard Gert, quoted on pp. 514–515 in Tom Beauchamp, “On Eliminating the
Distinction Between Applied Ethics and Ethical Theory,” Monist, 67 (1984), pp. 514–
531.
8. Loretta Kopelman, “What is Applied about ‘Applied’ Philosophy?” Journal of
Medicine and Philosophy, 15 (1990), pp. 199–218. See p. 201.
9. Tom Beauchamp, “On Eliminating the Distinction Between Applied Ethics and
Ethical Theory”; Alasdair MacIntyre, “Does Applied Ethics Rest on a Mistake?” Mo-
nist, 67 (1984), pp. 498–513; Sami Pihlström, “Applied Philosophy: Problems and Ap-
plications,” International Journal of Applied Philosophy, 13 (1999), pp. 121–133;
Nicholas Rescher, “Is Philosophy a Guide to Life?” Bowling Green Studies in Applied
Philosophy, 5 (1983), pp. 1–15
10. David Heyd, “Experimenting with Embryos: Can Philosophy Help?” Bio-
ethics, 10 (1996), pp. 292–309; Will Kymlicka, “Moral Philosophy and Public Policy:
The Case of the New Reproductive Technologies,” Bioethics, 7 (1993), pp. 1–26;
Stephen Toulmin, “The Tyranny of Principles – Regaining the Ethics of Discretion,”
Hastings Center Report, 11 (1981), pp. 31–38.
11. Matti Häyry “Another Look at Dignity,” Cambridge Quarterly of Healthcare
Ethics, 13 (2004), pp. 7–14; Matti Häyry and Tuija Takala, “Genetic Information,
Rights, and Autonomy,” Theoretical Medicine and Bioethics, 22 (2001), pp. 403–414.
12. Sven Ove Hansson, “Implant Ethics,” Journal of Medical Ethics, 31 (2005),
pp. 519–525; Sven Ove Hansson, “The Ethics of Enabling Technology,” Cambridge
Quarterly of Healthcare Ethics, 16 (2007), pp. 257–267.
1. Introduction
In both ethics and politics, perhaps especially in bioethics, one common basic
theory, or at least basic approach, is a combination of utilitarianism and liber-
alism. This way of tackling the problems of bioethics is one that many people,
myself included, find attractive: in general, one may expect people who esteem
the work of Matti Häyry to find it attractive. 1 But there is a serious question as
to whether this approach, however great its emotional appeal, holds together
rationally; and whether the two positions, utilitarianism and liberalism, are
even compatible with each other. Even some of the people who hold both posi-
tions do so by assigning them to different spheres. A good example would be
Ronald Dworkin, whose position seems to be that we should tackle political
and ethical questions using a utilitarian approach, except where rights are in-
volved, when these “trump” utilitarian considerations. 2 In contrast, there is
John Stuart Mill’s On Liberty, perhaps the classic liberal text, which defends
liberalism precisely on utilitarian grounds, and not on grounds of abstract
right. 3 This paper seeks to examine, and as a result defend, Mill’s view that
maximizing personal freedom also in the long term maximizes utility. It also
seeks to say something about the consequences of this for bioethics.
we seek to avoid. I will also assume that John Harris, for example in his The
Value of Life (1985), and others are right to conclude both that the preferences
of each person are of equal importance and that certain preferences, notably
the desires for life and for liberty, must be privileged and regarded as of su-
preme importance, since if anyone is denied life or liberty they are obviously
denied the chance of satisfying any other preferences. 4 The more controversial
question, of whether there are other wants or preferences that should be privi-
leged, because they meet the deepest human needs, will be left undecided.
Liberalism can obviously mean very different things. In this paper it will
be defined as the theory that all adult members of society should be free to
participate in decision making, to compete on equal terms, and to take their
own decisions in what concerns themselves entirely or primarily: the first and
third of these are particularly relevant to bioethics. (It should be noted that here
and elsewhere the words “Liberal” and “Liberalism” have the British, not the
American, connotation). Given these definitions, the problem to be addressed
is the following: Is the liberal model of health care, in which patients and cli-
ents are encouraged to make their own decisions as to what treatment they are
given, at all consistent with the utilitarian requirement, that the aim of health
care must be to maximize healthy functioning, physical and mental, and mini-
mize disease and pain?
Why should liberalism and utilitarianism, thus defined, not be consistent? This
is because of two reasons. First, liberalism, as defined above, seems to entail
that at least some—not all but some—crucial decisions should be taken ac-
cording to the choices of individuals, regardless of other considerations. Liber-
alism, in bioethics as elsewhere, is committed to the existence of individual
rights, and to holding that these rights hold irrespective of the consequences.
Utilitarianism, in contrast, is committed to the view that there are no absolute
rights, and that the general welfare should overrule individual wishes and
choices. So it seems that for a liberal, health care should be distributed accord-
ing to what people want: patients are entitled to the health care that they
choose, if it is available. If there is not enough to go round, so to speak (and
there never is), it should be a matter of “first come, first served” or, for those
liberals who believe in the “free market,” of health care going to those able to
pay. In contrast, a utilitarian must logically hold that health care must be dis-
tributed according to need, or according to an expert assessment of what will
do the most good; and this will clearly produce a different distribution from the
“liberal” one.
But is liberalism really committed to this? It is committed to holding that
medical treatment may not be forced on a person against their will, even if the
experts believe it would be beneficial. (The exceptions to this will be discussed
later on.) But it is not in any way committed to holding that people are entitled
to the treatment that they want, regardless of the claims of others whose condi-
tion is more serious, or of the assessment by doctors that the treatment will do
no good. Nor is it committed to the view that medical care and resources
should be distributed according to the ability to pay. There are liberals who
hold both these positions, but they are not essential to liberalism. Notably, they
are not part of the liberalism of On Liberty. For what Mill holds is that a per-
son should not be compelled to do, or refrain from doing, anything “for their
own good,” that is, because in the opinion of others it would be to their benefit,
or wise, or right; but once their actions harm others there is a duty to inter-
vene. 5 Moreover, all that is involved here is the idea that one should not inter-
fere with what people do when it does no harm to others, or (though Mill him-
self explicitly rejects this formulation and its implications) the idea that people
have a right not to be interfered with in this sphere. There is nothing to suggest
that people have any positive right to be provided with what they want simply
because they want it. Least of all is this the case when they do harm, even un-
intentional harm, by taking it, as would be the case if they had a “right” to use-
less medical treatments, and could take care and resources away from those
who would be helped by them. It is also not the case when other people have a
greater claim in justice to the resources, for example by being obviously in
greater need.
One may add that the ideas that medical resources should be distributed
according to the wants of the first-comers, or according to the results of the
free market, though they are part of one version of liberalism, are not in fact
consistent with its basic principle, that freedom should be maximized. The
maximization of freedom requires that the more serious obstacles to it be tack-
led in preference to the less serious, if one cannot tackle both; in the area of
health this means that the more seriously ill take precedence over the less seri-
ously ill, even if this means that the wishes of the less seriously ill are tempo-
rarily thwarted. It also requires that inequalities of power be limited; and this
in its turn may require that there be limitations both on economic inequality
and on how the better off may use their money. There may well be an impor-
tant place for the free market; but there is no guarantee that every operation of
the free market increases overall freedom, or that every limitation on it will
diminish freedom. In particular, there are good reasons for thinking that free-
dom is best served by distributing health care according to need rather than
according to the market. 6
So we may say that one supposed reason why utilitarianism and liberalism are
incompatible should be rejected. Liberalism does not require us to put the mere
desires of one person above the real needs (those things which are actually
essential to life or health) of others; and those who think it does may well be
subscribing to an ultimately inconsistent liberal theory. But there is a further
problem. Liberalism seems to be committed to individual rights, whether by
holding that there are moral as well as legal rights or by holding that there are
some things, such as life and liberty, which ought to be legally protected eve-
rywhere: even Mill, though he rejects any appeal to liberty as an abstract right,
elsewhere endorses the general notion of rights. 7 Now this does seem to be
incompatible with utilitarianism, for this commits the liberal to holding that
some things may not be done to a person whatever the consequences; and the
utilitarian is committed to holding that nothing can be excluded totally, if the
circumstances warrant it. Thus the utilitarian, it might be said, even if they
privilege life, will still have to hold that one life should be taken in order to
preserve many lives; whereas the liberal will hold that life may be taken only
when the right to life has been forfeited, for example by making a murderous
attack.
But it is not clear that the utilitarian has to take this position. There are
utilitarians, notably R. M. Hare in his Moral Thinking (1981), who have ar-
gued, in effect, that though to take one innocent life to save many would be of
short-term benefit, long-term human welfare requires us to make such things
as life and liberty absolute rights. 8 This is very plausible: given the temptation
to those in power to withhold respect even from life and liberty, and the enor-
mous risk of abuse, once one accepts that taking life can be a right in principle,
there are excellent grounds for saying that a utilitarian should take exactly the
same position as a liberal on this issue, and hold that there should be an abso-
lute right to life, which perhaps can be forfeited but cannot be overridden.
Two objections might be made here. One is that if one takes this view
one has refined utilitarianism so much that it has become a different theory.
But the claim is that rights to life and liberty (and maybe others) should be
maintained because they are necessary for the long-term welfare of humanity;
and this is a utilitarian claim. The other objection is the reverse of this, that to
base these rights on utilitarian considerations, rather than the mere fact of a
person’s humanity, is already to abandon liberalism. In one sense of “liberal-
ism” this is true; but then liberalism defined in this way is by definition not
compatible with utilitarianism! What we are concerned with is simply the pol-
icy of liberalism, particularly in bioethics, and whether this must necessarily be
different from a utilitarian policy.
So far, I have argued that there should be no difference between the way the
right to life is viewed by a liberal and by a utilitarian. But what about the right
to freedom? This brings us to the second major problem with regard to the
compatibility of liberalism and utilitarianism in bioethics, namely the issue of
other person is wrong. The same can be said about those terrible situations in
which the choice is between death, on the one hand, and life with unrelievable
suffering, on the other. There are arguments for and against euthanasia, but
there is certainly no ground for saying that the doctors are the best judges of
whether a person’s life is or is not worth living. They are the best judges of
some of the relevant considerations, such as whether a cure is likely, or
whether the pain can be relieved, but that is not the same thing.
So we may say, first, that the best course of action is not necessarily what
is medically best, and secondly, that there is not always a “medically best”
course of action. The situation is further complicated by the fact that what have
to be weighed up are possible or probable risks and benefits, rather than fea-
tures of the actual situation. Thus, one available treatment for a particular con-
dition might offer total cure if things went right, at the risk of permanent harm
if they did not. Another treatment might offer only a partial cure, but with a
very high chance of success and little or no risk of harm in the event of failure.
One can here multiply examples, since there are at least four variables; possi-
ble degree of success; likelihood of success; seriousness of the consequences
of failure; and the likelihood of failure. But the common factor is that very
often there are no right answers, it is a matter of what risks a person chooses to
run for what benefits. The expert can say what is likely to happen in each case
and what the risks are, but they cannot say what is actually the best thing to do,
since there is no best thing to do—only a choice to be made.
So even on utilitarian grounds the choice should still be left to the cli-
ent/patient, to the person who knows where the shoe pinches, as Mill might
have put it. There are exceptions to this: children; those who are unconscious,
drugged, drunk or delirious, and the seriously mentally ill or mentally im-
paired. (Age is not in itself a factor, though the incidence of some mental ill-
nesses, such as Alzheimer’s Disease, does increase with age). But all these
cases are exceptions for liberalism just as much as for utilitarianism: no liberal
would maintain that a person who is incompetent to make decisions should
nevertheless have the right to make them. There are sometimes great problems
in deciding when and in what areas a person is not competent, but these prob-
lems exist whatever one’s basic position. And it is true, as a matter of fact, that
because of the importance liberals attach to freedom, they are particularly re-
luctant to declare people incompetent. Thomas Szasz, for example, specifically
connects his denial that there is such a thing as mental illness with his libertar-
ian political views. 9 Nevertheless, if the argument of this paper, and of Mill, is
correct, a consistent utilitarian should adopt the liberal position, of assuming
competence in adults unless there is a definite reason to believe it is lacking,
and allowing the competent to make their own decisions in what concerns
them solely, or primarily and most immediately.
But although the above argument is the main utilitarian argument for liberal-
ism in bioethics, there is another, very different but still important, one to be
found in Mill. This is the argument that having to think for oneself and make
one’s own decisions develops both the intellect and the character, makes peo-
ple both sharp-witted and self-reliant. In their turn these qualities benefit both
the individuals themselves and society in general. Mill points out at some
length how hard it is for a society to accomplish anything without citizens who
have such qualities. Now this is not a subsidiary point: it has implications both
for the version of liberalism we should adopt and for its application to bio-
ethics.
The thing to be aware of at this point is the considerable difference be-
tween Mill’s liberalism and what is often currently taken to be liberalism, al-
though it is only one version of it. According to this version of modern liberal-
ism, the function of the State is to protect its citizens from external and internal
threats and to provide a “safety net” for those unable to look after themselves:
it has no business to require, or even to encourage, its citizens to adopt any
particular view of the good life, or even to require them to help each other,
beyond making their contributions, whether via taxation or military service, to
such things as common defense. As a corollary, the only duties of citizens are
to do their fellow-citizens no harm and to make their contribution. They may
choose to combine with other public-spirited people to do things of public
benefit, and they may be praised for so doing; but provided they do not inter-
fere with their fellow-citizens they fail in no duty if they simply pursue their
private goals or interests.
Now this is not Mill’s liberalism. For Mill the State is as much entitled to
require its citizens to do positive good as it is to prevent them from doing
harm. It is true that in practice, as Mill says in the last chapter of On Liberty,
this should be the exception rather than the rule. 10 There are good reasons for
this—the difficulty of enforcing it in practice, the resentment the attempt to
enforce it may cause, the interference with privacy it might require, and the
uncertainty as to what really is good and beneficial (it is much easier to be sure
that something is harmful). But in principle, for Millian liberalism, it is wrong
to force people to do things for their own good, but not wrong in principle to
force them to benefit other people. Nevertheless, one main reason for not in
practice forcing them to do this would be the utilitarian one that these things
may be done a lot better if they are done voluntarily.
Also, even when force should not be used, encouragement and persuasion
may and should. Even for a person’s own good, though one may not use force,
one should use persuasion and remonstration. 11 Equally, or even more, one
should educate people to be public-spirited: this is not only what one should be
doing as a citizen, but also to one’s advantage as a person: Mill says, rightly, in
NOTES
1. Matti Häyry, Liberal Utilitarianism and Applied Ethics (London and New
York: Routledge, 1994).
HOW TO DO BIOETHICS?
If there is such a thing as the truth about the subject matter of ethics—the
truth, we might say, about the ethical—why is there any expectation that
it should be simple? In particular, why should it be conceptually simple,
using only one or two ethical concepts, such as duty or good state of af-
fairs, rather than many? Perhaps we need as many concepts to describe it
as we find we need, and no fewer. 1
In the past two decades or so, a mode of theorizing commonly known as “prin-
ciplism” or a “principle-based approach” has been the dominant approach in
bioethics. As Donald C. Ainslie points out, the label “principlism” was origi-
nally meant to be derogatory, but became embraced by its defenders. 2 In the
form it has come to be known, principlism is usually characterized by adopting
a limited number of prima facie binding bioethical principles which are then
individually specified and balanced against each other when a specific moral
problem is discussed. The derivation of the principles, the number of princi-
ples, and the specification and balancing methods differ depending on the in-
terpretation. 3
Though there are different principlist theories, principlism is most com-
monly characterized by citing four so-called “midlevel” principles—respect
for autonomy (the obligation to respect and promote the decision-making ca-
pacities of autonomous individuals), nonmaleficence (the obligation to avoid
the causation of harm), beneficence (the obligation to provide benefits and bal-
ance benefits against risks), and justice (obligations of fairness and non-
discrimination in the distribution of benefits and risks). The principles are
called “midlevel principles,” since they are located below moral theories and
above moral rules, the general idea being that principles follow from moral
theories and, in turn, generate more specific rules that are then used to make
moral judgments concerning particular cases. 4 The idea is that these principles
can (one way or another) provide the proper justificatory framework for bio-
ethics and be used as a method for resolving bioethical issues.
It is not surprising that principlism has so often been attacked by aca-
demic philosophers and professional (clinical) bioethicists, because the term
“midlevel” already in itself suggests a compromise between two key spheres of
ethics—theory and practice. However, as Allen Buchanan, Dan Brock, Nor-
man Daniels and Daniel Wikler have remarked, to a large extent the critics of
principlism have been attacking a view “that is at worst a strawman and at best
a vulgarization of the framework for analysis advanced most prominently by
James Childress and Tom L. Beauchamp in various editions of their influential
book Principles of Biomedical Ethics.” 5 In this chapter, I will attempt to show
that, if taken seriously, principlism can provide a defensible normative frame-
work in bioethics. Because there is at present considerable controversy about
the proper theory and methodology for bioethics, it would be unrealistic to
hope to resolve these complex issues here. 6 My modest aim is to raise certain
philosophical questions about the (metaphysical and normative) adequacy and
sufficiency of the principle-based approach.
3. The Method
How, then, can such problems be resolved? The above discussion suggests that
there is no one thing we can do that is always central to solving an ethical
problem for there is no one paradigmatic ethical problem. 9 Nevertheless,
something more constructive and more general needs to be said. The central
methodological assumption here is that the coherentist view of moral justifica-
tion offers the best guidance for bioethical issues. (There are also other meth-
ods of moral justification within the principle-based approach. 10 ) By coher-
entism I mean the process of working back and forth between our considered
moral judgments about particular situations and general moral rights and prin-
ciples that cover these situations and help to explain our intuitive beliefs about
them. (Considered moral judgments are judgments which we affirm with great
confidence and without hesitation. Some such judgments are very specific,
whereas others are more general. No matter how general, considered judg-
ments are not to be seen as self-evident nor necessary truths, but as open to
revision—and sometimes even rejection—in the process of reflection. Consid-
ered moral judgments have some modest degree of epistemic priority simply
because some sources of error and distortion, such as the agent’s being upset
or frightened, have been eliminated from the deliberation process.) The key
idea underlying this method is that “we test various parts of our system of
moral beliefs against other parts of our general system of beliefs, seeking co-
herence among the widest set of moral and nonmoral beliefs by revising and
refining them at all levels.” 11 For example, we might test the appropriateness
of the informed consent doctrine in the context of human biobanks by asking
whether we can accept its implications in this particular context and whether it
accounts for the particular cases discussed within this context better than alter-
native principles.
Our considered moral judgments and beliefs about particular cases count
in this process. Such judgments have justificatory weight for at least two rea-
sons. Firstly, they can be referred to when applying more specific bioethical
methods, such as reasoning by analogy and slippery slope arguments. 12 Sec-
ondly, they provide what Norman Daniels has called “provisional fixed
points,” which makes them usable not only in the process of “testing” and re-
formulating midlevel principles but also in attempts to resolve conflicts be-
tween such principles.
I take general philosophical reasoning (including metaphysics, philoso-
phy of mind, rational decision-making, etc.) to be an elementary part of this
method. Such reasoning is needed for example when we address the largely
discussed question as to whether there is something morally special about ge-
netic medical information as compared with non-genetic medical information.
One answer to this question is the (partly) metaphysical claim that genetic in-
formation is morally exceptional because genetic (disease) characteristics are
more important to our “essential core identity” than non-genetic (disease)
characteristics. 13
The principle-based approach, according to the method sketched above,
is not simply a list of midlevel principles, as the principlist caricature would
have it. On the contrary, the pluralistic principlist theory has a more complex
basic structure than most traditional monistic theories, which regard all mid-
level principles as reducible to one basic moral principle. The principlist the-
ory is also much more complex in application than most traditional theories.
These complexities, I believe, are not a weakness but rather a virtue of the the-
ory, since complex issues require complex theories and sophisticated methods
for their resolution.
Of course, the above sketched framework is not without its problems, and it
has many viable competitors. 14 In the remainder of this chapter I clarify my
methodology and dismiss a number of possible objections.
By far the best-argued attacks on principlism have come from two
sources: K. Danner Clouser and Bernard Gert (the “deductivist” side), and Earl
R. Winkler (the “casuistic” side). Let me examine these arguments in turn.
[i]t lacks systematic unity, and thus creates both practical and theoretical
problems. Since there is no moral theory that ties the “principles” to-
gether, there is no unified guide to action which generates clear, coherent,
comprehensive, and specific rules for action nor any justification of those
rules. ... In principlism each discussion of a “principle” is really an eclec-
tic discussion that emphasizes a different type of ethical theory, so that a
single unified theory is not only not presented, but the need for such a
theory is completely obscured. Rather we are given a number of insights,
considerations, and theories, along with instructions to use whichever one
or combination of them seems appropriate to the user. But what is needed
is that which tells us what actually is appropriate in a consistent and uni-
versal fashion. Certainly the “principles” themselves, as portrayed by
principlism do not do so. Rather, it is a moral theory that is needed to
unify all the “considerations” raised by the “principles” and thus to help
us determine what is appropriate. 15
The objection is, in other words, that the midlevel principles lack any system-
atic relationship to each other, and they often conflict with each other. These
conflicts are unresolvable, since there is no unified moral theory from which
they are all derived. There is no priority ranking, nor is there any specified
procedure to be used in resolving particular cases of conflicts between the
principles. Principlism often has two or even three competing principles in-
volved in a given case. In Clouser and Gert’s view, this is tantamount to using
two or three conflicting moral theories to resolve a problem.
As a response, one should recognize that Clouser and Gert’s objection
presupposes two things. Firstly, it presupposes the optimistic metaethical belief
that resolving ethical issues in a “consistent and universal fashion” is almost
always possible. Secondly, it presupposes the (related) metaethical assumption
that in genuine moral conflicts “theory always comes first.” To my mind, both
beliefs are suspect.
To take the former presupposition first, when moral principles (and theo-
ries) are in conflict, making progress is not possible unless one has at hand
some specific procedure for establishing priorities among them. I have already
argued that such a method exists. It is essential to see, however, that while the
method (coherentist philosophical argumentation) frequently yields to a prior-
ity among the conflicting moral principles and ideas, there are—and will con-
tinue to be—cases where the conflicts are more or less unresolvable.
First, the word “principle” has sometimes designated what is the begin-
ning or the source of the ethical theory itself. Principles so understood
are founding or originative principles, and they are not derived from, nor
defended by, moral theories. Rather, moral theories are derived from, and
defended by founding principles. Second, the word “principle” has also
designated a norm for a standard used to make particular moral judg-
ments about right and wrong. Principles are thus normative or “action-
guides,” and they are derived from, or at least defended by, moral theo-
ries. 16
In my opinion, both uses are correct and may occur simultaneously. That is to
say, moral principles play a dual role in bioethics (and ethics). On the one
hand, they serve as general normative guides or prescriptions which are speci-
fied and (at least to some extent) defended by moral theories. In this sense,
principles are properly described as “midlevel.” On the other hand, principles
constitute the source or the beginning of moral theory, since they are expres-
sions of what John Stuart Mill called in his Utilitarianism “ultimate moral
ends.” As Mill himself was prepared to admit, “questions of ultimate ends do
not admit of proof” (in the ordinary use of the term). 17 In this sense, principles
are properly described as “toplevel.”
As soon as we adopt this approach to moral theories, we recognize that in
genuinely problematic cases—particularly in cases of conflicts between ulti-
mate principles—moral theories may not be able to resolve the questions with-
out there being a loss of value on the way. The reason for this is simple: moral
theories cannot necessarily get behind (or above) ultimate moral principles and
values.
So, then, it seems that sometimes when genuine conflicts between ulti-
mate moral principles occur, there is a considerable lack of unity in morality
(and life) itself, a lack of unity which no moral theory can eliminate without
distorting the actual moral landscape.
5. Conclusion
To conclude, then, it seems to me that the above criticism fails to show why
the principle-based approach should be regarded as theoretically inadequate.
By drawing attention to the pluralistic metaethical background of the principle-
based approach, I have proposed an interpretation of this approach which
seems to be immune to the most serious attacks on it. In the light of my analy-
sis, the particular kind of lightness of bioethical principles, resulting from the
fact that there is a plurality of values and principles which can conflict with
one another, and which are not reducible to one another, seems quite bearable.
Needless to say, as any bioethical theory, the principlist theory can show its
ultimate theoretical and practical adequacy only when it concerns itself with
real bioethical disputes.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I am grateful to Olli Koistinen and Juha Räikkä for helpful comments, criti-
cism, and suggestions.
NOTES
Press, 1988), ch. 1; Peter Singer, Practical Ethics, 2nd edition (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1993).
8. E.g., Matti Häyry, “Philosophical Arguments For and Against Human Repro-
ductive Cloning,” Bioethics, 17 (2003), pp. 447–459.
9. Cf. Wibren van der Burg, “Reflective Equilibrium as a Dynamic Process,”
Applied Ethics and Reflective Equilibrium, ed. Bo Petersson (Linköping: Linköpings
Universitet, Centre for Applied Ethics, 2000), pp. 78–79.
10. E.g., Heike Schmidt-Felzmann, “Pragmatic Principles—Methodological Prag-
matism in the Principle-Based Approach to Bioethics,” Journal of Medicine and Phi-
losophy, 28 (2003), pp. 581–596.
11. See Buchanan et al., From Chance to Choice, p. 376; see also Norman
Daniels, Justice and Justification: Reflective Equilibrium in Theory and Practice
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), chs 1–8.
12. See Alan H. Goldman, Moral Knowledge (London: Routledge, 1988), p. 160;
Veikko Launis, “Human Gene Therapy and the Slippery Slope Argument,” Medicine,
Health Care and Philosophy, 5 (2002), pp. 169–179.
13. E.g., my “Genetic and Nongenetic Medical Information: Is There a Moral
Difference in the Context of Insurance?” Reconfiguring Nature: Issues and Debates in
the New Genetics, ed. Peter Glasner (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004), pp.185–202.
14. E.g., Matti Häyry’s “liberal utilitarianism” in his Liberal Utilitarianism and
Applied Ethics, esp. chs 3–4; see also his “What the Fox Would Have Said, Had He
Been a Hedgehog: On the Methodology and Normative Approach of John Harris’s
Wonderwoman and Superman,” Genes and Morality: New Essays, pp. 11–19.
15. K. Danner Clouser and Bernard Gert, “A Critique of Principlism,” The Jour-
nal of Medicine and Philosophy, 15 (1990): 219–236. See also Ronald M. Green,
“Method in Bioethics: A Troubled Assessment,” The Journal of Medicine and Philoso-
phy, 15 (1990): 179–197; Ronald M. Green, Bernard Gert and K. Danner Clouser, “The
Method of Public Morality versus the Method of Principlism,” The Journal of Medicine
and Philosophy, 18 (1993): 477–489; K. Danner Clouser and Bernard Gert, “Morality
vs. Principlism,” Principles of Health Care Ethics, ed. Raanan Gillon (Chichester: John
Wiley & Sons, 1994), pp. 251–266; Richard B. Davis, “The Principlism Debate: A
Critical Overview,” The Journal of Medicine and Philosophy, 20 (1995): 85–105; K.
Danner Clouser and Bernard Gert, “Concerning Principlism and Its Defenders: Reply to
Beauchamp and Veatch,” Building Bioethics: Conversations with Clouser and Friends
on Medical Ethics, ed. Loretta M. Kopelman (Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers,
1999), pp. 183–199.
16. Raymond J. Devettere, “The Principled Approach: Principles, Rules, and Ac-
tions,” Meta Medical Ethics: The Philosophical Foundations of Bioethics, ed. Michael
A. Grodin (Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1995), pp. 27–28, italics added.
17. John Stuart Mill, Utilitarianism (Buffalo: Prometheus Books, 1987, originally
published 1863), p. 49.
18. Earl R. Winkler, “From Kantianism to Contextualism: The Rise and Fall of the
Paradigm Theory in Bioethics,” Applied Ethics: A Reader, eds. Earl R. Winkler and
Jerrold R. Coombs (Oxford: Blackwell, 1993), p. 355. For different formulations of the
objection, see Albert R. Jonsen, “Casuistry: An Alternative or Complement to Princi-
ples?” Kennedy Institute of Ethics Journal, 5 (1995): 237–251; Albert R. Jonsen and
The method of wide reflective equilibrium has been widely applied in practical
ethics and especially in bioethics. In what follows I would like to say few
words on the nature of this method.
The method of wide reflective equilibrium (WRE) is a coherence method
of justification in ethics. WRE was first introduced by John Rawls in his “The
Independence of Moral Theory,” and one of WRE’s strongest proponents has
been another American philosopher Norman Daniels. 1 As Daniels describes
WRE, it is a method which attempts to produce coherence in an ordered triple
of sets of beliefs held by a particular person, namely (a) a set of considered
moral judgments, (b) a set of moral principles, and (c) a set of relevant (scien-
tific and philosophical) background theories. 2
When using WRE, a person begins by collecting moral judgments (such
as “abortion should be allowed”) which she finds intuitively plausible. Then
she proposes alternative sets of moral principles (such as “killing human be-
ings is wrong”) that have varying degree of fit with the moral judgments. Fi-
nally, she seeks support for those moral judgments and moral principles from
background theories (such as “a fetus is not a human being”) that are, in her
view, acceptable. As Daniels writes, we can imagine the agent working back
and forth, making adjustments to her considered moral judgments, her moral
principles and her background theories. Finally, she arrives at an equilibrium
point that consists of the ordered triple (a), (b) and (c). Moral judgments in-
cluded in this point are taken to be justified. Reaching such a point may be dif-
ficult; as Rawls puts it, achieving it is an ideal situation.
One may try to use WRE collectively, and in a sense, daily moral discus-
sions are in fact guided by WRE (even if participants of such discussions have
rarely heard about the method). When person S1 thinks that she is justified in
accepting certain moral judgment a1, person S2 may point out that a1 is not
consistent with the moral principle b1, which must be attractive also from S1’s
point of view. This is how normative and ethical discussions normally proceed.
WRE has raised many critical responses. For instance, critics have claimed that
WRE is really a form of moral intuitionism. According to this line of criticism,
WRE implies that a person is justified in believing whatever she happens to
believe, if she has a strong enough “intuition” that this or that is so (for in-
stance, that “abortion should be allowed”). This argument, however, seems
unfounded. Intuitionist theories are usually foundationalist in a sense that “in-
tuitions” or at least some of them are thought to be somehow incorrigible or
basic or self–warranting. But WRE allows corrections of moral judgments:
none of them are thought to be “basic,” whatever the strength of one’s intui-
tion. 4
Is WRE anything else than a clever way to systematize our moral judg-
ments? According to the critics it is not, but defenders have argued that WRE
is much more than that. In their view, background theories (c) give independ-
ent support to moral judgments and principles, and background theories may
be justified independently of the fact that they cohere with attractive moral
judgments and principles. The method of narrow reflective equilibrium (NRE)
seeks coherence only between moral judgments and moral principles. But
WRE is wider than NRE in that it takes background theories into account.
An obvious problem with WRE seems to be that the considered moral
judgments (a) are not initially credible. Instead, they are a result of “acci-
dents.” Even sincerely believed and carefully formulated moral judgments may
be biased by self–interest, self–deception, and cultural and historical influ-
ences. 5 This is problematic, since the ordered triple (a), (b) and (c) is partly
justified by referring to the considered moral judgments. This problem is not
the general problem of all coherence accounts of justification, but a particu-
larly serious problem faced by WRE. 6
According to Daniels, however, the “no credibility” objection is merely a
burden–of–proof argument. 7 He writes that it is “plausible to think that only
the development of acceptable moral theory in wide reflective equilibrium will
enable us to determine what kind of ‘fact,’ if any, is involved in a considered
moral judgment.” While we have to confess that some answer to the question
about the reliability of moral judgments is required, there is no reason to think
that there is no such answer. Hence we are justified in using WRE and trusting
in its results.
Does WRE open doors to moral relativism? Is it not likely that eventually
there will be not only one equilibrium point shared by all or most people, but
various different equilibrium points? If so, we will also have different answers
3. Concluding Remarks
NOTES
1. John Rawls, A Theory of Justice (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1972); John Rawls,
“The Independence of Moral Theory” (1975), reprinted in John Rawls, Collected Pa-
pers (Harvard University Press, Cambridge 1999), pp. 286–302.
2. Norman Daniels, Justice and Justification (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1996), p. 22.
3. Cf. Bo Petersson, (ed.), Applied Ethics and Reflective Equilibrium (Linköping:
Centre for Applied Ethics, 2000), p. 29.
4. Cf. Roger P. Ebertz, “Is Reflective Equilibrium a Coherentist Model?” Cana-
dian Journal of Philosophy, 23 (1987), pp. 193–214.
5. Juha Räikkä, “Are There Alternative Methods in Ethics?” Grazer Philoso-
phische Studien, 52 (1996), pp. 173–189.
6. Cf. Michael DePaul, “Two Conceptions of Coherence Methods in Ethics”,
Mind, 96 (1987), pp. 463–481.
1. Introduction
“They say you really become a doctor after you’ve killed a few patients.” With
these words a young resident comforted an intern who had just lost a patient.
This scene took place in the television show ER.
I do not know what lay people thought when they saw this particular epi-
sode of ER, but I guess that I am not the only physician who immediately felt
that this short sentence caught something very essential about being a physi-
cian, or more precisely, becoming a physician.
“But how could they know? They’ve never been there in the middle of
the night, helplessly watching a patient die and wondering painfully what
could have saved her life.” These were the words of a colleague when we were
discussing the role philosophers could have in medical ethics.
Philosophers certainly have had a role in medical ethics since the 1960s,
when modern bioethics was introduced. But what kind of role should philoso-
phy and philosophers have then? It depends, first, upon the view we have of
philosophy.
“Philosophy is not only useless, but also dangerous. Philosophy has produced
nothing else but a cemetery of theoretical systems; but these dead systems are
haunting us like ghosts. Half of the philosophers are engaged in trying to kill
these ghosts again and again; the other half is busy to revive the same ghosts.
The best strategy is to ignore philosophy and to separate it as strongly as pos-
sible from medicine.” These are the thoughts of the German psychiatrist E.
Bleuler, who summarized his opinion in the following aphorism: “Philosophy
is fine and science is fine, but combined they are like a mixture of garlic and
chocolate.” 1
Obviously, many physicians and researchers in medicine share Bleuler’s
thoughts today and think that there should be no place for philosophy in the
medical curriculum, for example. It is as obvious that Bleuler’s and his modern
followers’ opinion refers to a rather narrow view of philosophy.
There are, however, many broader views of philosophy, although the
definition or the nature of philosophy pose questions on which philosophers
typically disagree.
The Oxford Companion to Philosophy opens the entry “philosophy” by
describing first the difficulty: “Most definitions of philosophy are fairly con-
troversial, particularly if they aim to be at all interesting or profound.” 2 A short
definition or characterization is, however, given later: “Philosophy is thinking
about thinking.” Martyn Evans, a British philosopher of medicine, has said the
same thing in other words: “philosophy of medicine asks questions about the
questions medicine asks.” If philosophy is understood this way, medicine—or
any other human activity!—immediately offers a multitude of questions to
which the answer cannot be found within the activity. “Is Mr. Brown healthy?”
is a medical question (“first order question”) but “What is health?” is a ques-
tion that cannot be answered without reference to something outside medicine
(“second order question”).
Another broad characterization of philosophy is offered by D. D. Raph-
ael, a British moral philosopher: “the main purpose of philosophy, as practiced
in the Western tradition, is the critical evaluation of assumptions and argu-
ments.” 3 Applying this idea to medicine and medical ethics means simply that
evaluating the multitude of moral issues related to the science and practice of
medicine is a philosophical task.
For a long time, the medical profession thought that medical ethics belonged to
it and it only. The academic world or the public did not disagree to a great ex-
tent. In the late 1960s, however, the climate changed, and, first, some Catholic
theologians, then philosophers, became more and more interested and involved
in medical ethics. There were many reasons for this transition: the rapid tech-
nological development in medicine after the Second World War; the rise of
individualism in general and women’s and children’s rights movement in par-
ticular; the Vietnam war and its impact on the political activity of philoso-
phers. In addition, the inability of biomedicine to solve all the major health
problems of the world had become obvious. First, medical ethics, and later
more generally the philosophy of medicine, were called upon to help resolve
the identity crisis of medicine.
What is the nature of expertise in medical ethics? Does it differ from, for ex-
ample, expertise in medicine or some of its subdisciplines?
To see the similarities and differences, we have to look at what the ex-
perts in each field do and know. A nephrologist, for example, has special
knowledge on the functions and diseases of the kidneys. Although any deci-
sion in medicine is based on both facts and values, the content of a nephrolo-
gist’s judgments is primarily factual. With respect to this factual content, he is
superior to the physician asking for the consultation. In most cases the consult-
ant and the patient agree about the value judgments and the nephrologist is
consulted because of his expertise in the facts.
In the case of an ethical dilemma, however, the primary disagreement
concerns values. A medical ethicist has special knowledge about ethical theory
and the exploration of values. There is, however, a distinction between know-
ing a lot about ethical theory and knowing what the morally right thing to do is
in this particular situation.
What is it, then, that characterizes the position of the medical ethicist?
Philosophical training has probably increased the ethicist’s ability to discern a
wider range of potentially relevant factors in ethically complex cases than the
physician would ordinarily be able to discern. With this ability the ethicist can
certainly contribute to the case, but, even with this ability he or she has not
gained authority over anyone else involved in the case. In fact, training in phi-
losophy could also affect the moral sensitivity of a person, but, again, this per-
son cannot claim to have any authority over others in particular cases.
Even among the supporters of so-called clinical ethics, there is disagree-
ment about who should (or could) practice it. Philosopher David Thomasma,
one of the pioneers, argued very strongly that philosophers can and even ought
to offer ethics consultations. 4 In contrast, physician-ethicists Siegler, Pelle-
grino and Singer have argued equally strongly that only people trained in
medicine are capable of working properly as clinical ethics consultants since
they “enjoy the advantages of a firm grasp of the factual tripod upon which
ethical decisions must rest: diagnosis, prognosis and therapy.” 5
tical norms from agreed general moral laws. This “engineering model” should
be abandoned but it does not mean that philosophy is useless.
According to Häyry, the first task of applied philosophy—in medicine
and elsewhere—is to uncover the principles and codes recognized in the social
environment that is studied. 10 The second task is rational reconstruction that
aims at “spelling out moral rules, norms and principles which, taken as a
whole, would fulfill the conditions of consistency and rational acceptability, as
defined by the deep metaphysical assumptions prevailing in the examined
community.” 11
It is easy to agree about the first task, which also sounds realistic. It may,
however, be unrealistic to expect that the second task, rational reconstruction,
can be fully completed when serious moral dilemmas are at stake.
6. Conclusion
“But how could they know?” asked my friend. How do I respond? Certainly
they cannot “know” but neither can we physicians, although we often think
that we can. Medical education and expertise do not give us superiority when it
comes to value judgments, neither does philosophical education and expertise
give authority in moral issues. Philosophy and philosophers can, however, con-
tribute in many meaningful and fruitful ways to medical ethics. We in the
medical community should be humble enough to recognize that. And philoso-
phers should be humble enough to recognize that having to carry out the prac-
tical consequences of moral judgments matters.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I thank Veikko Launis, Raimo Puustinen, and Simo Vehmas for comments.
NOTES
The aim of this investigation is to show that nurses play a unique role in health
care, and that nursing ethics is therefore a distinct field of study. While nurses
must obviously build upon the foundations laid by traditional moral philoso-
phy, nursing ethics as a discipline evolves from it—as does, for example, envi-
ronmental ethics—as a distinct field of applied ethics with its own conceptual
framework.
I have used the collection Scratching the Surface of Bioethics, edited by
Matti Häyry and Tuija Takala, as the basis for my investigation into whether
nursing ethics fits in with philosophy and bioethics. In that book, the authors
emphasize the interdisciplinary nature of the bioethical endeavor; to this I want
to add the voice of nursing, since it is silent in their deliberations.
I argue that nurses have particular skills not possessed by other health
professionals, a fact which much philosophical or bioethical literature fails to
recognize. We can trace the origin of these skills to the fact that nurses, unlike
any other health professionals, provide round-the-clock care to patients in an
almost unlimited variety of settings. The relationships they establish with pa-
tients and their families are more intimate and more demanding than the lim-
ited engagement typical of other health professionals. The involvement of
nurses in the daily activities of dressing, feeding, and toileting patients confers
a low status on the emerging profession in the eyes of some academics. How-
ever, I regard this intimate involvement in the daily lives of vulnerable indi-
viduals as a privilege, and one which confers upon nurses the right to speak for
themselves on professional issues.
If nurses play an indispensable role in the health and wellbeing of their
patients, then their ethics education must equip them for that role, providing
them with the skills necessary for it. I explore the alternatives of who should
provide them with this education and how it should be done. I do this from the
perspective of a bioethics lecturer at the University of Tasmania and of a regis-
tered nurse working at a Tasmanian nursing home.
Nurses deal with what Michael Parker terms “the kind of philosophical ques-
tions so intimately part of the human condition, like those of birth, death, love,
and loss” 1 in a way that other health professionals do not. They are present not
only momentarily but continuously. In the case of birth, they support families
through the antenatal period, labor, delivery, postnatal, and home care. Nurses
who work in neonatal intensive care look after premature babies on respirators;
often those babies’ lives end after weeks and months of improvements and
deteriorations. The parents of these children obviously need ongoing support to
prepare them for their loss.
At the other end of life, nurses working in nursing homes give residents
care over months and years. During this time, they come not only to know the
residents well, but also their families, and share in many of their joys and sor-
rows, such as the births of great-grandchildren or the loss of sons and daugh-
ters on the part of the oldest residents. Seriously ill residents sometimes con-
front nurses with euthanasia requests in the absence of doctors, or because the
doctors are less approachable than nurses. As euthanasia is illegal in Australia,
nurses must find ways of responding to the despair of individuals in place of
and on behalf of doctors, while simultaneously acting within their scope of
practice and within ethical guidelines. This is not an easy balancing act, but it
is one of the unavoidable roles of a registered nurse.
In these situations nurses can, for instance, honestly state that they cannot
perform acts of euthanasia, but that they can take nursing measures to allay the
resident’s anxiety, to assess the level of her physical and mental pain and dis-
tress, and to diagnose its causes and relay this information to the medical prac-
titioner. First and foremost, nurses are the one permanent, reliable presence
and comfort for patients and their families.
while at the same time having a sound knowledge of moral philosophy and
bioethics.
The sociologist Mairi Levitt claims that bioethicists do not ask empirical
questions that have a direct bearing on everyday health care, for instance about
the justification of a liver transplant for an ex-alcoholic who might take up
drinking again and waste the donor liver. 2 Nurse ethicists certainly ask these
questions. Douglas Olsen of Yale University School of Nursing, who previ-
ously worked as a community nurse in Alaska, has done empirical research to
demonstrate that nurses find it more difficult to act ethically toward patients
who in their judgement have caused their own problems, such as smokers, al-
coholics, non-compliant diabetics, many AIDS victims, and patients who use
violence and intimidation. 3 He also touches on economic and social issues,
such as patients not being able to exercise freedom in choosing their health
care provider, because they lack the knowledge necessary to do so. 4
I mean, we’ve been bullied and intimidated for so long now that I have
no idea what the future holds. I probably have made some enemies be-
cause of this, but I did have to be a patient advocate. I think that I’ll just
keep going to work and I’ll probably have some time off at the end of the
year and go overseas and, I don’t know, I don’t know. I can’t … I have
no idea. Um … just get some normality back in my life. That would be
good, I think. 9
Specialized knowledge
Long and intensive academic studies
Permanent careers
Organization and self-rule within the group
As a group, a decisive role in the arrangement of the relevant studies,
and in the recruitment of new members to the group
A distinctive professional ethos, or morality within the work; and posi-
tions of considerable responsibility in communities and societies. 10
Ethics at Surrey University offers ethics courses for nurses from all parts of the
world. The Centre gives human rights awards for nurses who have distin-
guished themselves in their work.
If nursing ethics is to serve the most vulnerable individuals, who most need
those with moral courage to speak on their behalf, then it must include a
global, political dimension. For this to become a reality, more and better-
educated nurses supported by organizations such as the International Centre
for Nursing Ethics and the International Council for Nurses are required to
develop and articulate the unique position of nursing in health care in all coun-
tries and settings. In small part conference papers and book chapters such as
this strive to put nursing ethics on the horizon of bioethics and philosophy as a
distinct ethos of a profession with its own morality.
NOTES
1. Introduction
If only Bob Dylan had had the opportunity to read Ruth Macklin’s 2 dismissal
of dignity then perhaps he might have realized that his song-writing skills
could have been put to better use! However I suspect that Dylan, like myself,
would not be content to dismiss dignity as a mere “slogan.” In this paper I will
revisit the debate on the value of dignity to medical ethics by outlining Mack-
lin’s criticisms; posing some concerns about those criticisms; and finally offer-
ing an argument as to why dumping dignity is not the sort of economy of lan-
guage that medical ethics needs. En route to this conclusion I shall refer to
Matti Häyry’s more moderate further look at dignity. 3 Whilst I agree with
both Macklin and Häyry that dignity is sometimes used merely as a slogan, I
conclude that this is not a reason to abandon it. Whilst dignity-as-slogan cases
are relatively easy to find, they are not illustrative of instances of dignity in the
context of medical ethics proper, and I shall turn to examples of these in order
to discuss a more substantive version of dignity in the context of clinical medi-
cal ethics.
2. Macklin’s Argument
Ruth Macklin writing in the British Medical Journal tells us “dignity is a use-
less concept.” 4 Although references to dignity abound in contemporary ethics
parlance, and more specifically it is claimed that certain developments in the
medical sciences threaten to violate human dignity.
concept than dignity, is also used in a similar way; indeed respect for auton-
omy is specifically used both in support of assisted dying and against. Argu-
ments using the principle of respect for autonomy are often used to support the
right of a person to control the manner and timing of their own death as a
claim about their right to self-determination. Autonomy arguments are also
used against such a right, sometimes because it is said to infringe upon the
autonomy of the person required to do the assisting. In addition, it is some-
times also argued that to insist that respect for autonomy requires that people
be allowed to end their life with assistance is to misconstrue the scope of the
principle of respect for autonomy: to use Daniel Callahan’s words this is “self-
determination run amok.” 7 Therefore equal claim to competing interpretations
of a concept is not a feature that is unique to dignity.
Macklin also comments upon the concerns expressed about dignity in the
context of managing human corpses in the medical context, in particular the
use of the newly dead by medical students to practice clinical procedures. Re-
flecting upon the charge made by some medical ethicists that this is a violation
of dignity, Macklin responds by pointing out that since the dead are no longer
autonomous then this concern is misplaced. Macklin makes this move because
she seems to believe that concerns about the deceased expressed in terms of
dignity are in reality concerns about autonomy, and since the dead have no
autonomy they ergo have no dignity to be violated; but this really avoids the
issue of dignity by diverting the point to a discussion of autonomy. Macklin
does however acknowledge that there may be reasonable enough concern for
the sentiments of the deceased person’s relatives to refrain from such practices
out of respect for those wishes.
However the claim that concerns regarding the deceased person’s dignity
can be reduced to concerns for the wishes of the deceased’s relatives is itself
problematic. This is where there is pressure on Macklin to explain what she
means by respect for autonomy and what specific implications it has in these
contexts. Presumably the wishes of relatives are not worthy of respect merely
because they are their wishes, but because the reason or reasons underpinning
their wishes are regarded as valid and a convincing ground that their request be
respected? The wishes alone are not sufficient, it is rather the reasons in which
the wishes are grounded which renders them sufficient or not. I am against the
reductionist turn in bioethics which sees ethical justification in terms of the
lowest common denominator: we should rather attempt to do justice to the
complexity of situations. For the surviving family, the corpse of the recently
deceased may not, in their minds, be entirely separated from the person whom
the corpse once was. For most people it is the grieving process which allows
for this separation between corpse and person to take place, but in the immedi-
ate aftermath of death it seems reasonable to treat the corpse as if it were the
person. In regarding the corpse as the person then it would seem justified to
respect the corpse in a way that the living person would have expected to be
treated with regard to their bodily integrity, modesty and respect.
Macklin’s approach here is typical of many bio-ethicists who can be ac-
cused of representing the issues as overly black and white, so as to simplify in
their own favor. 8 The question of whether, with regard to dignity, there is a
right or wrong way to treat a corpse is not solely a matter of individual prefer-
ences. There is hardly a human culture that does not have deeply held beliefs,
often expressed in ritual, about the respect owed to the human corpse. 9 Nor is
it beyond reason to suggest that such beliefs might be the basis of laws, which
may dictate more precise boundaries as to what is and is not permissible, as
Nussbaum argues: “we humans need law precisely because we are vulnerable
to harm and damage in many ways.” 10 Of course the objections of the be-
reaved may not be grounded in a belief any deeper than the thought that
“Granny was such a private person she would be dreadfully embarrassed to be
used in that way,” but as an expression of a concern regarding dignity this
seems clear enough. It is not difficult to imagine several other scenarios in
which relatives object to the particular uses of their deceased loved one’s ca-
daver for training medical students. This is not to say that an argument could
not be made for adopting alternative approaches to the dead, particularly where
it could be argued that such changes might render some concrete benefit to the
quick, but however good the argument it is unlikely to be sufficient justifica-
tion for imposing such a change without a process of broad social accommoda-
tion and adjustment. However, the question of whether it is ever right to over-
ride the wishes of the living or the dead is a related and important question but
a digression from the matter at hand.
A further area commented upon by both Macklin and Häyry is the application
of the concept in the context of human genetics and reproductive research.
Häyry points to what he considers the “most perplexing dignity-based docu-
ment,” UNESCO’s Universal declaration on the Human Genome and Human
Rights, which he summarizes as arguing that every bearer of human genes is
also a bearer of human dignity with a right to be respected as such. Respect for
dignity, amongst other things, precludes reproductive cloning. 11 Macklin also
comments upon the US President's Council on Bioethics first report Human
Cloning and Human Dignity 12 which gives a prominent place to the concept of
dignity. The report states that “a begotten child comes into the world just as its
parents once did, and is therefore their equal in dignity and humanity.” 13 Be-
cause the report contains no analysis of dignity or how it relates to ethical
principles such as respect for persons and provides no criteria for the violation
of dignity then the concept “remains hopelessly vague.” Although there are
many well worked through arguments against human reproductive cloning, 14
to invoke the concept of dignity without clarifying its meaning in some detail
in this context is, as Macklin suggests, to use a mere slogan. However the ob-
servation that a term is used as a slogan does not preclude the possibility that
an effective slogan draws upon established meaning. In this context, the
wrongness of cloning may imply the wrongful instrumental use of a human
being, an argument that is consistent with a Kantian view of dignity. 15
Macklin notes that one bioethics group that has gone someway towards
defining human dignity is the Nuffield Council on Bioethics. 16 This report
goes well beyond the US President's Council in specifying a meaning of dig-
nity in research on behavioral genetics. The report refers to the sense of re-
sponsibility as “an essential ingredient in the conception of human dignity, in
the presumption that one is a person whose actions, thoughts and concerns are
worthy of intrinsic respect, because they have been chosen, organized and
guided in a way which makes sense from a distinctively individual point of
view.” 17 Macklin argues that although this renders the concept of human dig-
nity meaningful, it is nothing more than a capacity for rational thought and
action, the central features conveyed in the principle of respect for autonomy.
In this specific context, I am inclined to agree with Macklin and Häyry that
attempts to equate human dignity with some form of genetic essentialism is
misplaced and highly problematic.
Why, then, do so many articles and reports appeal to human dignity, as if
it means something over and above respect for persons or for their autonomy?
A possible explanation as Häyry suggests are the many religious sources that
refer to human dignity, especially but not exclusively in Roman Catholic writ-
ings. 18 However, religious sources cannot explain how and why dignity has
crept into the secular literature in medical ethics.
Of course the heritage of “dignity” is an ancient one and by reflecting on
these pre-Christian sources as well as more contemporary ethical themes I will
suggest how claims about dignity may be distinguished from claims about the
respect for persons and autonomy.
diminishes dignity, the idea that dignity is associated with esteem is consistent.
Contingencies aside, the abiding sense of the meaning of dignity as a condition
of personal value which contributes to an individual’s self-image and self-
worth is a central component of dignity and one which has contemporary reso-
nance.
The history of dignity can be seen in examples of humanity’s reflection
on what it is to be essentially human, expressed through art and literature. The
many forms of human representation and self-representations in art, in phi-
losophical thought, and in personal reflection are rich sources for our purpose.
The classical writer Cicero applies the term “dignity” to the human race, as
that quality which distinguishes humans from animals:
The dignity of humanity has often been expressed in terms of the status of hu-
manity over animals and with the association of humanity with God, a familiar
theme within the Judeo-Christian tradition, for example, as expressed in Gene-
sis 1:26, “And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness ....”
These reflections upon mankind’s status vis a vis that of other animals,
and the association of the human with the divine, are common enough exam-
ples of human self-aggrandisement. Common themes in both Classical and
Christian art and literature attempt to express the esteem of humans in terms of
quality of mind and body. This combination of the classical and the Christian
is reflected in Hamlet’s famous speech that is arguably the epitome of the Ren-
aissance self-reflexive individual:
What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! How infinite in fac-
ulties! In form and moving, how express and admirable! In action how
like an angel! In apprehension, how like a god! The beauty of the world!
The paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of
dust? 21
The idea of being divine or god-like is but one common convention in human-
ity’s exploration of human dignity, and what these examples show is that re-
flecting upon the status of humanity is an abiding preoccupation of people, a
part of man’s reflexivity. Hobbes, by contrast, notes quite different social con-
ventions associated with dignity when he comments that:
The value, or worth of a man, is as of all other things, his price; that is to
say, so much as would be given for the use of his power: and therefore
not absolute; but a thing dependent on the need and judgement of another
… And as in other things, so in men, not the seller, but the buyer deter-
mines the Price. For let a man (as most men do) rate themselves as the
highest value they can; yet their true value is no more than it is esteemed
by others. 22
Hobbes is right in his observation that there are such social conventions asso-
ciated with dignity, but wrong to suggest that such conventions are indicative
of how dignity ought to be construed morally speaking. Clearly Hobbes is no
sophisticated psychologist, but I would suggest that from our brief dip into the
history of ideas two aspects of dignity are significant. The first is the aspect of
dignity associated with status as reflected in the regard given to the body. The
second is the internalized value the individual gives to him or herself, external
or objective esteem and self-esteem. To understand the ethical implications of
dignity we need to separate the social conventions from the morally substan-
tive aspects. This requires us to understand the particular wrong done when
dignity is given no regard, and this arises in the many circumstances in which a
human being is treated in ways in which they ought not to be treated. This is
not something to be discovered a priori, although there has been an abiding
tradition of such attempts. We do however have many a posteriori exemplars
in human history which go some way to giving such an account. The Holo-
caust has perhaps provided some of the most profoundly disturbing examples
of institutionalized machinery bent on destroying human dignity. The Holo-
caust also provides some of the most profoundly inspiring examples of how
the spark of human dignity may survive, despite such insults. Primo Levi, a
survivor of the concentration camps, describes the phenomenon of the “mus-
selmänner,” slang for those individuals who had been rendered prostrate,
crushed by the lager (camp) machinery:
All the musselmans who finished in the gas chambers have the same
story, or more exactly, have no story; they followed the slope down to the
bottom, like the streams that run down to the sea. On their entry into the
camp, through basic incapacity, or by misfortune, or through some banal
incident, they are overcome before they can adapt themselves; they are
beaten by time, they do not begin to learn German, to disentangle the in-
fernal knot of laws and prohibitions until their body is already in decay,
and nothing can save them from selections or from death by exhaustion.
Their life is short, but their number is endless: they, the Musselmänner, ...
form the backbone of the camp, an anonymous mass, continually re-
newed and always identical, of non-men who march and labor in silence,
the divine spark dead within them, already too empty really to suffer....
[I]f I could enclose all the evil of our time in one image, I would choose
this image which is so familiar to me: an emaciated man, with head
dropped and shoulders curved, on whose face and in whose eyes not a
trace of a thought is to be seen. 23
Levi and other writers 24 have also given examples of how some individuals
maintained a sense of dignity, and a related will to survive, even in the face of
such a sustained onslaught as the Holocaust. These accounts of human tragedy
and personal survivorship give an insight into aspects of human psychology
that are relevant to dignity. How a person is treated either by other individuals
or by institutions can have an impact on that person’s dignity, both in terms of
their objective esteem and in the sense of their own value or self-esteem: both
are of moral import to medical ethics.
Turning now to contemporary issues of dignity and medical ethics, is
there anything we can conclude from this brief account? The ethical issue of
dignity is concerned with the question of how people ought to be treated. This
has implications for the conventions and standards of professional practice
including communication skills, conventions of decency and privacy and so
on. Evaluation of these standards ought to be mindful of the potential impact
of such behaviors on our ideas about the value of that person in general, and
the particular impact on that individual in terms of how they value themselves.
The relevance of dignity to medical ethics can be seen in terms of a general
normative question: “how ought we to treat people”? But dignity requires par-
ticular regard to “bodily” treatment and also awareness of the impact of medi-
cal treatment and care upon the concept of self-esteem. It should be clear with-
out argument that the first of these aspects of dignity is relevant to medical
ethics, but both are indeed relevant and centrally important to ethical medical
practice because both are linked.
To be in a position to judge a health worker’s action as unethical then one
must be able to articulate what it is they are responsible for, in order to judge
that they have failed in what they could reasonably be expected to do, or re-
frain from doing. It is reasonable to expect health workers to have awareness
of the impact of routine medical care and treatment on the patient’s self-
esteem, since this is related to the general duty to be mindful of a patient’s
welfare. The self-evaluative aspect of dignity is linked because a person’s self-
esteem can be influenced by their awareness of how they are valued as this is
reflected through the attitudes and behaviors of others. A simple if prosaic ex-
ample of this is captured in the possible positive or negative affect of a profes-
sional’s “bed-side manner.” However I will spell out these claims through a
number of examples.
The impact that medicine has upon society generally and on patients in
particular has been the subject of much conceptual debate and empirical re-
search. 25 It has long been recognized that medicine as an institution has been
and is a powerful force in society. Sociologists have described the phenome-
non of medicalization 26 and many have been critical of the forms this has
many skills, verbal skills, body language, and awareness of the potential for
the patient’s distress to name but a few.
Let us be reminded that medical ethics is about the good that medicine
and health care aims at and how this is achieved. To understand the potential
that medicine has to benefit and do harm to people requires a careful empirical
analysis of the impact, not just of medical interventions but also of medical
practice as a whole. This includes not only analyses of the impact of medical
treatments and therapies, the methods of providing medical services, but also
analysis of the impact of the relationship between the health worker and the
patient.
5. Conclusion
In this brief paper I have attempted to show that that there is something of
moral substance associated with the concept of dignity that is both relevant to
medical ethics and worth preserving. There are aspects of dignity that are rela-
tive to time and place but then which meanings are not? Macklin herself rec-
ommends autonomy as a concept central to medical ethics yet one which is
diversely interpreted and is often regarded as only specifically relevant to an
Anglo-American cultural context. Macklin’s dismissal of dignity is perfunc-
tory and hasty. Häyry’s is by contrast both balanced and thoughtful. Häyry
may be critical of dignity as a slogan, but he suggests that by comparing and
disputing the meaning of dignity we may “further understanding between peo-
ple and cultures.” 31
Dignity, understood in terms of objective esteem and self-esteem of the
patient, is important to medical ethics. The moral imperative for medicine is to
be aware of the impact of both disease and medical practice upon a patient’s
dignity, and to act according to that awareness. Dignity may be vague but then
so are many other concepts, which are nevertheless regarded as important in
medical ethics. 32 This is partly because we are still in the process of unpacking
such concepts and in a socially complex and changing world we must en-
deavor to continue to do so.
NOTES
1. “Dignity.” Words and Music by Bob Dylan, Special Rider Music, 1994.
2. Ruth Macklin, “Dignity is a Useless Concept,” British Medical Journal, 327
(2003), pp. 1419–1420.
3. Matti Häyry, “Another Look at Dignity,” Cambridge Quarterly of Healthcare
Ethics, 13 (2004), pp. 7–14
4. Macklin, “Dignity is a Useless Concept,” p. 1420.
5. Ibid., 1419–1420.
6. Dignitas, http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/europe/2676837.stm.
7. D. Callahan, “When Self-Determination Runs Amok,” Hastings Center Report,
22:2 (1992), pp. 52–5.
8. Cf. John Harris, “In Vitro Fertilisation: The Ethical Issues (I),” The Philosophi-
cal Quarterly, 132 (1983), pp. 217–237.
9. R. Hertz, Death and the Right Hand as an Anthropological Study of Different
Cultural Ideas about Death (Aberdeen: Cohen & West, 1960).
10. Martha C. Nussbaum, Hiding from Humanity (Princeton: Princeton University
Press, 2004), p. 6.
11. Häyry, “Another Look at Dignity,” p. 10.
12. US President’s Council on Bioethics first report Human Cloning and Human
Dignity (2002).
13. Ibid., p. 4.
14. Søren Holm, “A Life in the Shadow: One Reason Why We Should Not Clone
Humans,” Cambridge Quarterly of Healthcare Ethics, 7:2 (1998), pp. 160–162; A.
Colman, “Why Human Cloning Should Not be Attempted,” The Genetic Revolution
and Human Rights, ed. Justine Burley (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), p. 15.
15. E.g. Häyry, “Another Look at Dignity”; S. Wilkinson, Bodies for Sale: Ethics
and Exploitation in the Human Body Trade (London: Routledge, 2003).
16. Nuffield Council on Bioethics, Genetics and Human Behaviour (2002).
17. Ibid., p. 121.
18. Häyry, “Another Look at Dignity”; D. Pullman, “Universalism, Particularism
and the Ethics of Dignity,” Christian Bioethics, 7:3 (2001), pp. 333–358.
19. Via Romana, http://www.novaroma.org/via_romana/.
20. Cicero, De officiis, I. 30, trans. Walter Miller, ed. Loeb (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1913).
21. Hamlet (II, ii, 115-117).
22. Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan (1651), ed. C. B. Macpherson (Harmondsworth:
Penguin Books, 1983), pp. 151–152.
23. Primo Levi, If This is a Man & The Truce (London: Abacus, 1993), p. 96.
24. V. E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning, transl. I. Lasch (Hodder and Stough-
ton, 1974).
25. I. Illich, Limits to Medicine: Medical Nemesis: The Expropriation of Health,
(Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1976).
26. T. Parsons, The Social System, (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1951).
27. T. Szasz, The Myth of Mental Illness, (London: Paladin, 1964).
28. E. Goffman, Asylums: Essays on the Social Situations of Mental Patients and
Other Inmates, (New York: Anchor Books, 1961).
29. M. Foucault, The Birth of the Clinic, (London: Tavistock, 1973).
30. S. Sontag, Illness as Metaphor and Aids and its Metaphors. (New York: Pica-
dor, 2001).
31. Häyry, “Another Look at Dignity,” p. 12.
32. E.g., K. D. Clouser and B. Gert, “A Critique of Principlism,” Journal of
Medicine and Philosophy, 15:2 (1999), pp. 219–36; Søren Holm, “Not Just Auton-
omy—The Principles of American Biomedical Ethics,” Journal of Medical Ethics, 21
(1995), pp. 332–338.
AUTONOMY
(AND A LITTLE BIT OF DIGNITY)
IN BIOETHICS
Niall Scott
1. Introduction
2. What is Autonomy?
3. Kantian Autonomy
In contrast to Häyry’s position then, for a Kantian, autonomy forms part of the
foundation of what is necessary for moral action to be possible at all, since it is
a defining characteristic of humans as moral agents. For Kant, autonomy can-
not simply submit to utility; it cannot be refined or altered with respect to
achieving particular bioethical goals. It is a fundamental aspect of who we are.
Kant’s conception of autonomy is quite deep and forms part of a complex
of interrelated aspects of what a human being is as a moral agent. Furthermore,
it is what outlines our moral obligation to others and to ourselves. It provides a
starting point for how we ought to treat other human beings and how we ought
to treat ourselves, and thus it would seem a rather important point to follow in
the field of bioethics and specifically biomedical ethics. For Kant, to be
autonomous is to be capable of freely choosing to act on the basis of univer-
sally valid moral principles. Essential to Kant’s notion of autonomy is rational-
ity. Autonomous action involves acting on principles that are rationally bind-
ing on all human beings, as exemplified in the categorical imperative, in the
formula that emphasizes humanity: “Act so that you use humanity in your own
person, as well as in the person of every other, always at the same time as an
end, never merely as a means.” 8 The expression of autonomy in the Ground-
work as this capacity to set moral laws which can be assented to and acted
upon is: “The idea of the will of every rational being as a will giving universal
laws.” 9
Crucially for Kant, autonomy is an idea, which Allen Wood notes, means
that we cannot ground autonomy in “what particular rational beings might ar-
bitrarily decree.” 10 As a result we can be in error about what we think is right
because we cannot reduce morality and hence autonomy to what we may think
or neither can we use anything from experience to shape our understanding of
it. The nature of autonomy thus does not change with regard to the conse-
quences of an action, as it might in Häyry’s utilitarian use of the concept.
For Kant autonomy and dignity are very closely related. One could say
that being autonomous involves dignity in action. In the groundwork, in addi-
tion to saying something about human worth, Kant holds that autonomy is the
very foundation for human dignity:
Nothing can have a worth other than which the law determines for it. But
the lawgiving itself, which determines all worth, must for that reason
have dignity, that is an unconditional incomparable worth; and the word
respect alone provides a becoming expression for the estimate of it that a
rational being must give. Autonomy is therefore the ground of the dignity
of human nature and of every rational creature. 11
and a right to not be informed. 14 Their request is based on a demand for con-
sistency.
I hold that in a Kantian understanding of autonomy, a patient wishing to
be informed in order to make a decision about a particular procedure that they
may be subject to involves several things. There is a demand being made con-
cerning the general respect for rational decision making and there is the de-
mand to respect the individual patient’s decision making regarding their par-
ticular case. Thus a patient can make a poor decision that may go against their
goal of health, or seem entirely irrational. For example, a patient may refuse
pain relief, despite a procedure being very painful. I may choose, in a display
of bravado, to not receive an injection at the dentist, even after I am told that
the procedure will cause a great deal of pain. I may reject life saving surgery in
favor of knowingly choosing a painful, slow decline in health as a result of
cancer. Such a decision may be based on not receiving adequate information or
involve not fully understanding the procedure available. I may even make such
a decision being fully informed and understanding the procedure, but am will-
ing to undergo some suffering, regardless of the pain relief available. Despite
what appears as an irrational decision ignoring the information provided, or a
decision made based on inadequate information, a patient can none the less
still have their autonomy respected.
But in what sense are we committed to respecting the patient’s autonomy
if we appeal to Kant? It may seem that we would be committed to respecting
the general decision making capacity of the patient and also respect the par-
ticular decisions that the patient makes, even if these are non-autonomous de-
cisions. We may be confronted with the difficulty that a patient believes that
they are making an autonomous decision, but they are mistaken about their
conception of autonomy and what it means, if Kant’s concept of autonomy
were to be taken as definitive. This seems to present us with a problem of in-
consistency for the Kantian position in that we are respecting a general capac-
ity for autonomy and also respecting the non-autonomous decision of the pa-
tient. The reason for seeing this as inconsistent can have to do with a relation-
ship between autonomy and freedom. In doing so a particular approach to
freedom is being invoked, that links autonomous action to non-interference
with decisions. This is the very problem that Häyry and Takala try to address
and they argue that one cannot pair Kantian autonomy with a Millian concep-
tion of freedom.
Häyry and Takala propose a Millian conception of autonomy which sug-
gests that “individuals are entitled to make their own decisions on whatever
grounds they wish, as long as they do not inflict harm on others by these deci-
sions.” 15 Häyry considers the two positions, that of Kant and Mill to be com-
peting. The Millian view of autonomy as freedom given above, paired with
dignity, is incompatible with the Kantian view of autonomy. Certainly this is
true; these positions are not only competing, but incompatible. Combinations
With regard to Kant it would be wrong to treat these (autonomy and dignity) as
two entirely different concepts. Instead one is an expression of the other, as I
have presented above. Thus, where Häyry argues that the Kantian conception
of dignity cannot sit well with a Millian conception of autonomy, i.e. that we
can do and be what ever we want and we ought to be given absolute moral
worth he is correct. However Häyry claims that Kant tried to merge two in-
compatible concepts and lost much in the process. 16 What he claims Kant lost
was the opportunity to provide an argument for respecting the autonomy in
terms of actual empirical choices that people make. So Kant’s application of
the categorical imperative forbidding suicide and perhaps hence euthanasia, or
the selling of organs as immoral is done at the expense of “individual self gov-
ernance,” or “autonomy” as it is usually understood in present day ethical dis-
cussions. 17 The very reason though that Kant sees these as immoral is that they
involve a person acting heteronomously not autonomously. Häyry’s appeal to
“autonomy as it is usually understood in present day discussions” involves
shifting his argument from Kant’s understanding of autonomy to present day
understandings of autonomy. What is actually lost instead then is all of Kant’s
understanding of autonomy, which I think we could do well with keeping, as it
provides the very difficult challenge of why we ought to respect the idea of
autonomy in a person or humanity in general irrespective of what an individual
person may want for themselves at a particular time and place. As a result, the
procedure that can be adjusted to suit the goals—such as the need for pain re-
lief—that are desired. This is of course an important matter in a caring ap-
proach to patient welfare. It may well be that many particular situations that
invoke moral arguments concerning the use of freedom are practical problems
rather than moral. Whether or not a person’s freedom is advanced or restricted
does not need to come into conflict with the concept of autonomy as a defini-
tional feature of the human agent.
NOTES
1. Matti Häyry, “Forget Autonomy and Give me Freedom!” Bioethics and Social
Reality, ed. Matti Häyry, Tuija Takala and Peter Herisssone-Kelly (Amsterdam:
Rodopi, 2005), pp. 31–35.
2. Matti Häyry and Tuija Takala, “Genetic Information, Rights and Autonomy,”
Theoretical Medicine and Bioethics, 22 ( September 2001), pp. 403–414.
3. Matti Häyry, “European Values in Bioethics: Why, What and How to Be
Used?” Theoretical Medicine and Bioethics, 24 (May 2003), pp. 199–214.
4. Häyry and Takala, “Genetic Information, Rights and Autonomy,” p. 411.
5. Matti Häyry, “Prescribing Cannabis: Freedom, Autonomy and Values,”
Journal of Medical Ethics, 30 (2004), pp. 333–336.
6. Tom L. Beauchamp and James F. Childress, Principles of Biomedical Ethics
5th ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), p. 58.
7. Ibid.
8. Immanuel Kant, Groundwork to the Metaphysics of Morals in Practical
Philosophy, ed. Mary J. Gregor, Cambridge Edition of the Works of Immanuel Kant
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), G 4:429, p. 80.
9. Ibid., G: 4:431, p. 81.
10. Allen Wood, Kant’s Ethical Thought (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1999), p. 157.
11. Immanuel Kant, Groundwork to the Metaphysics of Morals, G 4:436, p. 85.
12. Matti Häyry and Tuija Takala, “Genetic Information, Rights and Autonomy,”
p. 410.
13. Ibid., p. 411.
14. Ibid.
15. Ibid.
16. Matti Häyry, “The Tension Between Self-Governance and Absolute Inner
Worth in Kant’s Moral Philosophy,” Journal of Medical Ethics, 31 (2005), pp. 645–
647, p. 646.
17. Ibid.
18. Matti Häyry, “Forget Autonomy and Give me Freedom!” p. 31.
19. Immanuel Kant, “An Answer to the Question: What is Enlightenment?”
Kant’s Political Writings (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992), 8:37, p. 19.
1. Introduction
The precautionary principle has been called upon in a number of different con-
texts. As the definition above suggests, this has often been when the introduc-
tion of a new technology or product has been proposed, for instance, gene
therapy, the use of genetically modified organisms (GMOs), pesticides, or dyes
and so on and where there has been concern that this may pose a danger to the
environment or to human health. 2 Recent experience provides good grounds
for believing such an approach might be appropriate in many contexts. It has
become clear in recent years for example, that there have been many cases in
which early warnings, had they been correctly interpreted (that is, with precau-
tion in mind), would have avoided considerable harms. For example, the
United States had very few cases of limb defects from Thalidomide, compared
to other countries, because Frances Kelsey, an officer at the US Food and Drug
Administration, delayed approval of the drug. Both Kelsey and Lenz in Ger-
many (who came too late, since he described as many as 4,000 babies with
malformations) endured a great deal of criticism in the name of the “objectiv-
ity” of medicine at the time and faced threats to their professional credibility. 3
And yet, their precautionary actions, in particular those of Kelsey, can be seen
in retrospect to have avoided significant harms. It is plausible given evidence
of this kind to claim that the general adoption of the precautionary principle in
technology assessment would result in a significant reduction in harms and be
a reasonable basis upon which to build policy. In this chapter we explore this
claim.
this chapter. The second of these claims is that there is an intrinsic moral dis-
tinction between an “act” and an “omission,” for instance between introducing
and not introducing a technology. One way of capturing this second claim
might be to say that in a situation in which the implementation of a new tech-
nology was being considered and both its implementation and its non-
implementation posed indeterminate but comparable risks of harm, the precau-
tionary principle would suggest that it would be right (precautionary) to decide
against implementation. The justification for this is that the fact that one is an
action and the other an omission marks a morally significant distinction be-
tween the two ways forward, even if the foreseeable harms are comparable.
We consider each of these claims in turn and argue that whilst it may well be
possible to develop a coherent account of the precautionary principle, doing so
will require significant modification of the principle.
The precautionary principle is most often called upon in situations in which the
introduction of a new technology is being proposed and where this is associ-
ated with uncertainty about risks and harms. In such cases the principle is usu-
ally taken to require that a technology should not be introduced where it poses
a significant threat, even if it cannot be conclusively shown that the threat will
materialize. At first glance, this seems an eminently sensible and appropriately
conservative approach to technology assessment. However, whilst the origin of
the use of the principle in the setting of environmental concerns explains the
tendency to emphasize restraint in the use of technology, consideration of the
role of technology in other settings such as medicine e.g. in the treatment or
prevention of disease, makes it clear that failing to act can also in many cases
present a serious, even if uncertain, threat e.g. through the failure to implement
important public health measures. Such cases make it clear that deciding not to
act can in some cases, perhaps many, pose risks of a similar kind and magni-
tude to those presented by action and suggests that if policy-makers are serious
about the avoidance of harms they should consider with equal seriousness the
consequences both of action and inaction, 5 that is that the principle of precau-
tion should be applied to all potential threats, not only to some of them. This
suggests the need for a revision of the definition of the precautionary principle
above to something like the following:
Where there is a credible risk of serious harm, the action or the omission
that best minimizes the likelihood of harm should be undertaken. This
could, for example be achieved through the introduction of a public
health measure or through the decision not to introduce a new agent—
even where there is no conclusive evidence that the harm (or damage)
will result from the action.
This rewording differs significantly from the ways in which the precautionary
principle is currently understood. Current usage places great emphasis on the
risks, uncertainties and harms associated with the introduction of new tech-
nologies, but little emphasis, if any at all, on the harms of failing to introduce
such technologies. This is understandable given the origins of the principle in
concerns about environmental damage and about cases of ill-considered inno-
vation, but the fact remains that the avoidance of harms must surely require
policy-makers to take seriously the full range of potential threats wherever
they originate.
Many advocates of the precautionary principle would want to resist this
conclusion however, and this revised definition, arguing that placing greater
emphasis on the potential harms arising from actions rather than on those aris-
ing from omissions is justified. What grounds might there be for this claim?
There are several candidates. One might for example hold the belief that the
status quo is simply by its nature of intrinsic moral value. This is something
like a claim that it is wrong to interfere with Nature. But this would be a very
strange belief to hold for a number of reasons. Firstly, change in nature is in-
evitable and all-pervading making the idea of status quo in nature untenable.
Furthermore, a belief in the intrinsic value and sanctity of the Natural is in-
compatible with the practice of medicine and of technological innovation of
any kind. A second possible justification for placing greater weight on action
than inaction might be one grounded in ecological arguments about the dan-
gers of rapid ecological change (that is, that such change causes “genomic
stress”). 6 This is an important argument, but this justification too has its limits.
Firstly, this is only an argument against rapid change, not against change per
se and secondly, it is clear here too that in many cases inaction i.e. the failure
to implement a technology can also lead to rapid environmental change and
genetic stress. If, for example, the Thames Barrier were not to be raised during
a flood warning, this would change the environment in the Thames Valley and
Central London both dramatically and rapidly. And, this suggests that the ab-
sence of technological intervention may bring with it certain environmental
risks and suggests too that the key concern in such situations ought to be the
avoidance of harm (that is, genomic stress) and not the question of whether
such harms are to be avoided by an action or inaction. Neither arguments from
the sanctity of Nature, nor those about environmental shock are intrinsically
arguments against the claim that the foreseeable harmful effects of both inno-
vation and non-innovation should be taken into equal consideration in policy-
making.
A third possible justification for rejecting the moral equivalence of acts
and omissions might be to argue that whilst it may be true that both actions and
omissions can lead to harms, there is an intrinsic moral distinction between
them which justifies placing greater moral weight on actions than inactions
harmless. This derives from the fact that (a) very large numbers of observa-
tions are needed to exclude a small excess of a rare outcome, and (b) some
outcomes (for example cancer) have a very long latency period before becom-
ing manifest.
Despite these weaknesses however, there are at least two reasons why in
our view it will often be right to place greater emphasis on understanding and
taking into account the potential harms of innovation. The first of these is be-
cause in a great many cases, but not all, those who wish to innovate are going
to be much more powerful and richer than those who wish to resist it, having
more resources available to develop and make their case. This does not mean
that technological innovation should always be rejected, but it does mean that
it is vital that any decision-making process has adequate built in protections.
One of these protections might be a requirement for those who wish to inno-
vate to provide a very high standard of evidence and for such evidence to be
independently assessed. Another protection might be the use of public re-
sources to investigate potential harms whether caused by act or omission. The
second reason why it might be reasonable to place more emphasis on the po-
tential harms of innovation is that in many cases the evidence provided by ex-
perience will mean that the likely effects of inaction can be known with a
greater degree of certainty than those of the proposed innovation.
harms are often only picked up much later and even then with difficulty. For
example, several drugs have been introduced because they had obvious bene-
fits, only for late-developing and rare side-effects to become apparent many
years after introduction (like with cerivostatin, Vioxx). The benefits tend to
increase as the frequency of the outcomes that are meant to be prevented in-
creases, whereas harms are independent of such frequency. This principle is
illustrated in Figure 1. For example, prescribing statins to patients with very
high levels of cholesterol is associated with a much lower Number Needed to
Treat than treating patients with lower levels, but the side-effects arise inde-
pendently of cholesterol levels. Therefore, a threshold can be identified below
which treatment is not advised.
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Figure 1 7
Notwithstanding the need for skepticism about benefits and caution about the
dangers of overestimating the benefits of innovation, policy-makers, con-
fronted by technologies with a perceived uncertainty and risk ought to consider
evidence, where this is available, both about their potential harms and benefits
and come to a judgment on a case by case basis about whether the potential
risks are worth taking in order to secure the potential benefits. This suggests
the need for a further redrafting of our precautionary principle along something
like the following lines.
skepticism about claims about benefits and an awareness of the role of power
and of vested interests in such claims.
5. Conclusion
NOTES
JUSTICE OR SOLIDARITY?
THINKING ABOUT NORDIC PRIORITIZATION
IN THE LIGHT OF RAWLS
Vilhjálmur Árnason
1. Introduction
The intention of this law is to provide everyone with equal right to health care.
This is a positive welfare right which creates duties on behalf of the state to
provide each citizen, indiscriminately, with the best health care available at
each point in time.
I will argue that a health care system based on the egalitarian principle of right
to welfare has to some extent failed on all accounts.
First, it is not cost-efficient. Most states are now setting limits to the sky-
rising costs of health care. This is not least because in a scheme of equal rights
of all to the best health care, there are no rational limits. This could work in a
situation of affluence, but it is insufficient in a situation of scarcity. (I leave
out the question here how much a nation can spend on health care. The only
rule that might apply here is that a nation is not to spend so much on health
care that it is unable to uphold other institutions, such as of education, neces-
sary to provide for equal opportunities of the citizens.) We are used to think
that progress eliminates scarcity. But in the context of health care, it is a well
known fact that scarcity increases along with social progress because it is rela-
tive to historical possibilities each time. The problem is that the “cost of hu-
man ingenuity applied to health care exceeds the capacity to pay for it.” 2
Secondly, our health care system does not guarantee optimal quality of
health care. Major emphasis has been on the expansion of technologized hos-
pital care at the neglect of prevention, self-help and traditional forms of care.
Therefore, it has not contributed well enough to the major goals of health care,
which is the protection of health and the prevention of sickness. This is a
complicated issue which has various explanations. Partly the situation is cre-
ated by the “ideology” and the vision especially of the medical profession to-
wards its subject matter. Medical doctors have become increasingly special-
ized in the various parts of the human body which has enabled them to get an
ever increasing mastery over sickness, but this has diverted their attention
from the causes of sickness and the context of disease, therapy and recovery.
This is one reason why the shaping of health policy is not to be left only up to
the health professionals who are likely to confuse their individual and narrow
professional interests with the public interest. However, this policy appears to
be supported by the public who mostly prefer to lead unhealthy lives and then
be saved in hospitals when the need arises. At the same time, health is made an
absolute value by these same individuals who “make ever increasing demands
on the qualities and possibilities of the health cares system.” 3 Consequently,
the health care system seems to increase in a relatively autonomic way, driven
more by the technological imperative of doing whatever is possible than by a
sensible standard of good health care.
Thirdly, our health care system has not contributed well enough to a fair
equality of opportunity among the citizens. To mention one reason: The fact
that we get an equal chance of being cured once ill does not compensate us for
our unequal chances of becoming ill. 4 Moreover, the vision of technologized
medicine threatens to discriminate among patients, giving priority to those
with health care problems that lend themselves to technological solutions. In
this way and others, there is always an implicit hidden rationing and prioritiz-
ing of health care—one that is not explicitly put forth and thrown into an open
public discussion. This is a major reason why explicit prioritization should be
attempted. A successful prioritization is a matter of justice, because it requires
that policy decisions are made according to publicly available criteria which
can be openly debated and assessed. Otherwise, the prioritization is more
likely to be arbitrary, concealed and subject to private interests. A successful
prioritization is a way to secure that everyone can have a necessary health care
service when the need arises, that money is effectively used and that profes-
sional criteria are employed in order to define and demarcate the health care
services that should be financed by the state.
It is not surprising that this principle is the foundation of reasoning about just
health care. The idea of moral equality of the citizens is literally undisputed in
moral and political philosophy of our time, although there are disagreements
about how best to observe it. 6 It implies the minimal requirement that health
care must not discriminate between people on a-medical grounds, i.e. that pa-
tients shall receive similar treatment for comparable illnesses, independent of
social status, age, income or other accidental factors. This principle also im-
plies that people shall have equal access to health care services, regardless of
where they happen to live in the country. In the Danish report, equal access is
related to “formal equality approach” while “a solidarity approach may require
us to compensate those who are underprivileged.” 7
B. Solidarity
C. Medical Need
Priority shall be based on need for health care. The following services
and forms of treatment shall have priority.
I. Treatment of acute or life-threatening illnesses, physical or mental, and
injuries which can lead to serious disability or death.
II. Preventive health care, which has proved effective.
The treatment of serious long-term illnesses.
Rehabilitation and habilitation.
Palliative terminal care.
III. Treatment of less serious injuries, and acute and long-term illnesses
of a less serious nature.
IV. Other forms of treatment which professional experience has shown
to be effective. 14
D. Cost-Effectiveness.
This well known principle urges health care professionals to choose the less
expensive option of any two that have the same effectiveness. The notion of
effectiveness refers here to the benefit that an individual can receive from a
particular treatment. When many people need the same treatment, it can also
be a matter of justice to choose the less expensive option, even though the
benefits are somewhat less for each individual, because in that way total effec-
tiveness can be increased. 15 Futile treatment should not be provided, nor ex-
pensive treatment which has a high sacrifice cost.
E. Individual Responsibility.
planned in the light of this fact. Moreover, some problems are such that indi-
viduals can better deal with them than the health care system. Appropriately
applied, this principle harbors important potentials for constructive changes in
medical practice (somewhat in line with the idea of empowerment) but these
are not fleshed out in the reports and are not even mentioned in all of them.
ground solidarity, or the concern for the worst off, on the perceived self-
interest of individuals acting as rational egoists, as it is the case with the
liberal-neutral picture of society [the authors refer here to Rawls 1972
and Daniels 1985]; rather, rejecting the abstraction of the “liberal self,”
who conceives of his identity as established independently of any social
relationship, it would ground solidarity on a genuine concern for the
common good that stems from the recognition of the inherent relatedness
of human beings within a democratic community. 17
all life opportunities are equalized. What matters is that difference in this
regard be justified by showing that it is to the advantage of the worst off. This
would imply, for example, that privatization of health services would only be
justifiable if such a change would be to everyone’s advantage in the sphere of
health care. On this line of reasoning, it would not count as unfair if the rich
would, as a result of privatization, be able to get a quicker access to certain
services if the quality of public health care was improved as well. This aspect
of Rawls’s thought may not square well with the peculiarity of the
Scandinavian health care where “the rich as well as the poor have traditionally
made use of the publicly funded services.” 20 In light of the current
development, the question then boils down to whether “everyone should be
equally deprived of the most expensive services” 21 in the manner of strict
welfare egalitarianism or whether it is possible to improve public health care
by partial privatization.
For this task I believe that Rawls’s theory gives an important guidance.
His counter-factual agreement which is not intended to describe anything that
has taken place, lends itself remarkably well to the discussion of just health
care. This is because the veil of ignorance is perfectly realistic in this sphere of
life. No one can know what her/his health care needs will be next year, next
month or even tomorrow for that matter. Will we be paralyzed after a car acci-
dent, bed-ridden because of cancer, or demented old people when the inevita-
ble veil of time is lifted? And if we are overly optimistic or biased in our own
case, we can apply this to our children and parents: how will they fare in the
health lottery? This imaginary situation seems to lend itself well, therefore, to
constructing a contractual system of solidarity which squares with the reading
of Pasini and Reichlin quoted above where the interests of the worst off are
protected by rational egoists.
We must not read Rawls’s theory too narrowly as a contract theory and
regard the principle of justice as fair simply because they are chosen under a
veil of ignorance. We could also put it the other way around and say that the
principles of justice are chosen under a veil of ignorance because they are fair.
Rawls writes: “The basic intuition which underlies all my ideas and they are
systematically built around, is about society as a fair system of co-operation of
free equals. Justice as fairness is rooted in this idea as one of the basic compo-
nents of democratic culture.” 22 This rootedness of justice as fairness in democ-
ratic culture shows that even the liberal contractual system of solidarity is
“founded upon a pre-contractual consensus on fundamental values.” 23 In He-
gelian terms we could say that the Moralität of contractors under a veil of ig-
norance is a normative test of values already shaped in the historically formed
Sittlichkeit of the society. On this reading one can see the hypothetical contrac-
tors under a veil of ignorance choose to design a solidaristic system of health
care not simply because they are rational egoists but also because they realize
the dependence of individuals upon a system of social relationships and val-
ues. Rawls could, therefore, in his own way, accept Habermas’s idea that jus-
tice and solidarity are two sides of the same coin: “Morality cannot protect the
one without the other. It cannot protect the rights of the individual without
also protecting the well-being of the community to which he belongs.” 24 We
should be mindful of the fact that the function of the veil of ignorance is not
only to make the contractors ignorant of their own position but also to make
them more knowledgeable about the human condition in general and about
various individual situations. As a theoretical exercise it inspires us to imagine
ourselves in the situation of the worst off and thus it motivates our vision of
interdependence and reciprocity in human relations. 25 In this vein of thought,
Rawlsian justice can thus also contribute to “reflexive solidarity” as described
by Houtepen and ter Meulen which “implies continuous reappraisal of the way
that institutions and services affect the people involved in caring practices.” 26
Norman Daniels, who has applied Rawls’s theory of justice to health
care, 27 fruitfully regards health as the normal functioning of the body, seen as
a psycho-somatic whole, and health care needs are those necessary to achieve
or maintain “species-typical normal functioning” at each point in life. 28 Im-
pairment of this functioning reduces the range of opportunity open to the indi-
vidual in the course of her life. This is most often due to causes that the indi-
vidual has no control over. To the most part it is determined by a natural and
social lottery. This is why health care is primarily a matter of justice; its role is
to protect an individual’s share of life’s opportunities. Although this conclu-
sion is a result of a quite liberal mode of thought it seems to imply a notion of
solidarity that can be compared with those of the Nordic reports on prioritiza-
tion discussed above.
Daniels clearly places emphasis on the joint responsibility of the citizens,
but what about individual responsibility? Isn’t it to be expected that a liberal
notion of justice emphasizes that at the cost of solidarity? Not necessarily.
Prudential contractors must seek just ways to deal with this. And since they
know general facts of life, they will know how difficult it is to determine what
exactly is due to voluntary decisions and what is the result of natural and so-
cial conditions. Therefore, they will not take the risk of adding injustice to
injury, that is, blaming the victim by discriminating between patients once the
damage is done. They will rather look for indirect ways, especially through
redistribution of profit from unhealthy consumption and risk activities, like
smoking and mountain climbing. Besides, they will probably want to provide
themselves with some elbowroom to live dangerously, without having to pay
specifically for it when they find themselves in need. However, if and when
health care needs can without doubt be shown to be voluntarily caused, it is a
matter of justice that special health fees be placed on such behavior in order to
distribute the burden of health care costs fairly. 29
What kind of health policy would hypothetical contractors design under a
veil of ignorance? Rawls has not tried to address this question but Norman
Daniels has written extensively about this issue. 30 I cannot go into Daniels’
theory here, but I will briefly summarize his ideas and mention their relation to
These aspects of a hypothetical contract about health care system do not imply
any specific suggestions for prioritizing health care services. But they are in-
dicative of the mode of thought that needs to be strengthened in our task to
reconstruct the health care system. This means for example that we give up the
one-sided emphasis on health care on demand, backed by individual rights,
and try to reach a consensus on quality care which is both just and cost-
effective. The main concern of justice is to provide equality of opportunity. In
the context of health care this means removing the hindrances that limit peo-
ple’s opportunity range and result from injury, sickness or disability, or in-
creases their chance of suffering from these conditions. And the “worst off” in
this context are those in the gravest medical need or at the greatest risk to suf-
fer from conditions that threaten to radically reduce their share of the normal
opportunity range. This places strong emphasis on the joint responsibility or
solidarity of the citizens and in some ways even stronger than has been em-
phasized in Nordic systems of health care.
5. Consensus?
In dealing with macro-allocation of health care goods and the making of gen-
eral health policy, it is necessary to form a social agreement about general
principles. In this paper I teased out such principles from official reports about
prioritization in health care from the Nordic countries. I presume that even
though they are not substantiated in health care policy, such reports harbor
important indicators of the citizens’ views about what must guide us in this
task. They could be crucial now when there is an increased admittance of the
fact that unlimited application of the welfare principle can overthrow the
health care system. In such situations, our alleged adherence to justice and
solidarity is put to the test because we can no longer escape the task of finding
out which inequalities are justifiable and which are not. I argued that in order
to shape a mode of thought about the health care system which can fairly limit
our access to health care goods without violating solidarity, we can look in the
direction of Rawls’s theory of justice as fairness. Surely, this is a procedural
notion of justice, specifying the conditions necessary for a fair distribution of
goods in society. But it can also be seen as a critical idea, providing a perspec-
tive from where every real agreement or consensus in society can be norma-
tively assessed.
Moreover, such a consensus requires broad public discussion which en-
sures that people take responsibility for the policy made, and identify with it.
Therefore, ideas put forth in official reports need to be tested in public delib-
eration. For this discursive task Rawls’s theory may not provide sufficient
guidance because it precludes the ongoing democratic dialogue where the
principles of justice themselves must be open for revision. 31 Ideas of delibera-
tive democracy and discourse ethics could be more constructive for that pur-
pose. Nevertheless, we can learn from Rawls that in fleshing out the idea of a
social consensus on health care we are bound to move from individual rights-
based attitude to just general rules which set limits to health care that everyone
can in principle accept. The result of such a contract might not be entirely dif-
ferent from the Nordic socialized medicine we know, but I believe that it will
provide us with more sensible and more explicit guidelines to make health
care more efficient, professional, just and—if solidarity means attending to the
weakest and whose needs are greatest—more solidaristic.
NOTES
24. Jürgen Habermas, “Morality and Ethical Life: Does Hegel’s Critique of Kant
Apply to Discourse Ethics?” Moral Consciousness and Communicative Action (Lon-
don: Polity Press, 1989), p. 200.
25. Susan Moller-Okin, “Reason and Feeling in Thinking about Justice,” Ethics,
99:2 (1989), pp. 229–249.
26. Houtepen and ter Meulen, “The Expectation(s) of Solidarity,” p. 373.
27. Daniels, Just Health Care.
28. Ibid., e.g., pp. 26 and 33.
29. Robert M. Veatch, A Theory of Medical Ethics (New York: Basic Books,
1981), chapter 11, “The Principle of Justice.”
30. Daniels, Just Health Care.
31. Thomas McCarthy, “Kantian Constructivism and Reconstructivism: Rawls
and Habermas in Dialogue,” Ethics, 105 (1994), pp. 44–63.
1. Introduction
The question raised by the Beatles in their 1967 Lennon and McCartney song
is a question that must be of increasing interest to the modern, cosmopolitan
academic, maybe not at the age of 64, given the increases in average life ex-
pectation, but for some later age (please note that the use of “cosmopolitan”
here has no connection to the identification of “cosmopolitanism” as a left de-
viation from the party line in the Stalin era of the Soviet Union, nor to the title
of a well known women’s magazine).
Why is the question of interest? It is of interest because many of the tra-
ditional answers to who should need me and feed me when I am old, and I
guess that for the Beatles’ audience 64 was ancient, are under pressure. The
pressure comes partly from changes in social conditions, partly from changes
in policy emphasizing personal responsibility and partly from a change in em-
phasis in ethics towards more liberal ideas at the expense of communitarian-
ism.
The social changes are mainly a reduction in family size with a resulting
shrinking in the size and extension of the extended family and greater geo-
graphical mobility both within and between countries. This means that fewer
people will have children who will feed them, fewer people will have nephews
and nieces who might feed them, and more people will lose a strong connec-
tion with a locality or a country that might otherwise have generated a feeling
of solidarity or obligation in those sharing the same locality or country. The
cosmopolitan academic may therefore find that no one stands in one of those
relationships to him or her that has traditionally been the basis for obligations
to care for the aged.
Many medical technologies promise to be able to extend our lifespan and
remove the diseases often afflicting old age, thereby leading to a long and
healthy life, with no need to have anyone else than myself feed me at 64 or 84,
although I might unfortunately have to work much longer before retirement. It
is, however, unlikely that the more significant life expanding and morbidity
compressing potential of these technologies will be ready for use before any of
us who now contemplate 64 or 84 as actually approaching will reach those
ages.
This raises the question whether we can provide a philosophical argument for
the existence of an obligation to feed the old? This is not an insurmountable
problem if we are really talking about feeding or other very basic needs, but
what about an obligation to ensure that the cosmopolitan academic has a toler-
able old age with suitable access to wine, music and good food?
Within a liberal framework we might initially say that this problem
should be solved by the person in question. At a young age each of us ought to
make prudent choices ensuring that we can provide for ourselves in our old age
(under reasonable assumptions about the future, for instance, life expectancy,
needs in old age, and investment climate), either by having children and treat-
ing them so well that they will be obligated to support us, or by saving enough.
But the savings option does, although indirectly also rely on the contin-
ued “production” of children. Unless your savings are in the resources you
actually need (say, food), long term savings in fungible assets (for instance,
money) only keep their value in so far as there is an economic system in which
some people continue producing sufficient, economically valuable outputs
(please note that there is a distinction between what is valuable sub specie
aeternitatis and what is economically valuable). If no one had children and the
production base therefore gradually diminished the value of savings would
also diminish.
A liberal response to the “when I am 64” question in terms of individual
responsibility therefore only works if a sufficient number of children are born
in each generation.
Some liberals, including Matti Häyry have argued that it is actually mor-
ally wrong to bring children into the world. Häyry writes:
This creates a problem for the line of argument we have been pursuing above,
especially if our cosmopolitan academics are also liberal philosophers. In that
case they would have to argue either that the badness of procreation is out-
weighed in a consequentialist manner by the general benefits it produces, in-
cluding the stabilizing effect on the value of savings, or that it is acceptable to
benefit from other peoples’ immoral actions (we can probably assume that the
pleasurableness of sex and/or peoples’—on this line of argument—immoral
desires to have children will mean that procreation will continue to occur). The
second of these arguments, that it is acceptable to benefit from other peoples’
immoral actions is not unproblematic. It clearly matters how one benefits,
whether the immoral actions are past, present or future, whether the continua-
tion of the benefit relies on the continuation of the immoral practice, and
whether one is directly or indirectly condoning the immorality. The liberal
self-sufficiency solution relies on continued procreation and it is difficult to
see how our cosmopolitan academics must not at least tacitly condone this
practice, as it is the only practice that can ensure them a tolerable old age.
They are thus close to performative inconsistency. For those who are already
64 or are approaching this age in the not too distant future this is not a problem
because we know that enough people have pursued reproduction in those 64
years to create a sufficient number of children to keep the economy running for
the next many years. But for younger cosmopolitan liberals it is a real issue.
But can we do better in attempting to generate some obligation on others?
The liberal can generate obligations in three ways: 1) by the free choice of in-
dividual agents, 2) by some sort of explicit, implicit or hypothetical contract,
and 3) by positing human rights. I will here assume without further argument
that the liberal can only unproblematically posit negative human rights and that
a positive obligation to provide for other people in their old age (except as
noted above to provide the bare minimum) cannot be generated through a lib-
eral human rights approach, and therefore not discuss the third option any fur-
ther.
The first liberal approach is not very promising. Some people will freely
choose to commit themselves to helping some other people and will thereby
To hold him who has taught me this art as equal to my parents and to live
my life in partnership with him, and if he is in need of money to give him
a share of mine….3
It is, however questionable how effective such a promise would be. It is, for
instance unlikely that most philosophy student would feel bound by it.
The second approach looks more promising, the literature abound with
veil of ignorance arguments generating all sorts of obligations with excellent
liberal, or at least Rawlsian, credentials, so why not an obligation to help peo-
ple who have grown old. The old could perhaps even be conceptualized as the
Rawlsian “least well of.” I think that this is a possible line of argument, but it
suffers from one general weakness and a specific problem. The weakness is the
traditional weakness of all hypothetical contract arguments that it is unclear
why actual people should be bound by hypothetical contracts. This weakness is
especially acute when the veil of ignorance argument produces positive obliga-
tions that cannot be fully discharged individually. As an individual I cannot
discharge an obligation to ensure that all old people are provided with suffi-
cient resources to live a tolerable life (even if this obligation was circum-
scribed by jurisdiction or locality). It is an obligation that only WE can dis-
charge through some kind of (re-)distributive social system. But what would
be the argument for forcing me to contribute to this social system if, for in-
stance I had no elderly relatives and I suffered from a disease that would strike
me down in late middle age? After all the “patron saint” of liberal thinking
John Stuart Mill famously held:
that the sole end for which mankind are warranted, individually or collec-
tively, in interfering with the liberty of action of any of their number, is
self-protection. That the only purpose for which power can be rightly ex-
ercised over any member of a civilised community, against his will, is to
prevent harm to others.4
The more specific problem is that the outcome of veil of ignorance argu-
ments is crucially dependent on the specification of the original situation be-
hind the veil and the stipulated properties of the veil. Who are the negotiators,
what are the limits to the question they are discussing, and what information
does the veil filter out? If the question is one about intergenerational justice are
the negotiators only looking at obligations towards the elderly, or are they also
looking at obligations toward the young? Do they know whether they live in an
affluent or a poor society?
For a veil of ignorance argument to get off the ground we clearly need to
specify the situation in some way, but all specifications are arbitrary to some
degree and all already contain the outcome hidden in the specifications. It is
therefore perhaps better to see veil of ignorance arguments as persuasive in-
stead of justificatory. As a device we use to convince others that a given set of
social rights and obligations are fair.
In the current context it seems excessively arbitrary to ask only one ques-
tion along the lines of “would agents behind a veil of ignorance create an obli-
gation to provide everyone with a tolerable old age?” without putting this in
the complete context of inter- and intra-generational justice.
Given these problems with the highly hypothetical contracts generated by
veil of ignorance arguments it might seem preferable to ask what contracts
people would enter into from the positions they really possess in society (i.e.
move to slightly less hypothetical, but still not actual contracts). If we can gen-
erate a definite answer to that question we can say to the non-compliant that
this is really the contract they would have entered into in their full individual-
ity, and that they therefore should feel bound by it. But we do again run into,
perhaps even more intractable specification problems. Should we imagine the
negotiation taking place between everybody at a certain stage in life (e.g. at the
age of 18)? Does the negotiation cover everybody in society, or are there sub-
contracts between specific groups (e.g. those who want to have children,
smokers, religious people etc.) and who decides this question? Do we discuss
each possible obligation in isolation (e.g. who has obligations towards chil-
dren) or do we discuss the whole complex web of obligations between people
(allowing for bargains between those with children and those without)? How
do we deal with people moving between societies, like our cosmopolitan aca-
demics? This latter question becomes relevant because we are here discussing
hypothetical contracts based on peoples’ actual resource endowments, values
and desires and we have every reason to believe that such contracts will differ
significantly between societies (even if hypothetical contracts established be-
hind a thick veil of ignorance might not differ to any great degree).
All of these specification problems indicate that it is problematic to en-
gage in too tight specification, since the only purpose of that seems to be to be
able to either to generate, or to rule out certain specific obligations. The bottom
line is therefore that both our completely hypothetical veil of ignorance con-
tract and our slightly less hypothetical contract between actual people in afflu-
ent societies will probably incorporate an obligation to help people to have a
tolerable old age, whether they are cosmopolitan academics or not, but that
they will only do so as one part of a complicated web of obligations, many of
which the individual agent would not have chosen to be bound by if they were
negotiated separately, for instance an obligation to support the education of
other peoples’ children.
If, however, it really is immoral to have children, even these kinds of ar-
gument will be in vain, since the obligation towards the elderly will never be
able to be discharged and they must die destitute (physician assisted suicide
always being an option for the liberal if any physician can be found young
enough to retain a license).
3. Conclusion
Who will feed the cosmopolitan academic at 64 (or 84)? Fortunately the ques-
tion does not arise in its most acute form for cosmopolitan academics that are
now approaching that age. In the western world we live in societies where
most states have not yet fully realized the implications of philosophical liberal-
ism (in both senses of “realize”) and in which there are still a sufficient num-
ber of people having children to safeguard at least some of the value of our
savings (including importantly the value of our pension funds). Even in old age
we can therefore rely both on state enforced beneficence and on the continued
support of the economic system provided by our own, and other peoples’ chil-
dren.
For the liberal cosmopolitan academic it must be a very troubling state of
affairs to see ones old age supported by illiberal government policies and by
the immorality and folly of continued procreation, but maybe the deep sense of
unease this must engender can be relieved by a few glasses of red wine and the
words of the immortal Danish rock band Gasolin (played at a volume appro-
priate to overcome any hearing impairment caused by old age):
Og Floridor ja
og Celestin
de siger hva’ ska’ du ha’ min dreng
jeg si’r det bedste
til mig og mine venner, ja ja ja.
NOTES
1. Introduction
turned away, referred to the airport health clinic for whatever treatment is
available. The same is true for the crew as well. You aren’t singled out or pro-
filed for risk; just as with baggage screening, everybody’s tested. But nobody
boards the plane unless they have a negative test result. In our thought-
experiment, nobody boards the plane with a disease they could transmit to
anybody else—at least, with one that has been identified through the rapid test
procedure.
An intolerable invasion of liberty and privacy? A colossal inconvenience
and disruption of people’s plans? Violation of a basic liberty, the right to free-
dom of travel? An utterly unacceptable state-mandated invasion of the body?
But consider what such a policy could prevent. Much of the most vivid public
worry about the transmission of infectious disease, especially highly conta-
gious emerging diseases like Ebola or SARS, involves intercontinental trans-
mission that is only a single plane trip away. After all, HIV was originally be-
lieved to have arrived in San Francisco in 1981 with a single airline steward
(though more recent evidence shows evidence of the virus in the U.S. several
years earlier). In 2003, SARS arrived in Toronto from China in 2003 by plane:
a 78 year old Scarborough grandmother, Kwan Sui Chu, contracted SARS at
the Metropole Hotel in Hong Kong on February 21, 2003, and returned to To-
ronto two days later, where she infected her son; he entered Scarborough
Grace Hospital, which would become the epicenter of the Toronto epidemic. 2
Rapid testing at airports might have prevented both these occurrences of
long-distance transmission of highly infectious diseases, and, assuming trans-
mission would not have been repeated later in some other way, would have
prevented some 44 SARS deaths in Toronto and thousands upon thousands of
AIDS deaths in the U.S. alone. Keeping just a few passengers from boarding
their planes, whoever they were, could have prevented huge loss of life.
Denying air travel to people with infectious diseases, as this thought-
experiment would, isn’t intended just to prevent passengers who might sneeze
on their seatmates from giving a cold to others on board; in this thought-
experiment, a state-mandated policy of this sort would prevent any person who
is identified as a vector of disease from transmitting it later on in the place to
which they intended to travel. Such a program would, we can assume, dramati-
cally reduce the spread of infectious disease—not only that transmitted over
long distances, like the Scarborough grandmother’s unwitting transmittal of
SARS from Hong Kong to Toronto, but that passed around at home, as she
equally unwittingly infected her son.
There are many potential objections to this thought experiment. Here are four:
A. Violations of Liberty
Imagine the restrictions of liberty—not only the huge inconvenience, but the
curtailment of freedom—multiplied by the millions of air passengers who
would at one time or another be forced to stay behind. This might well seem to
outweigh the gain in preventing the spread of disease: after all, intercontinental
transmission of life-threatening potentially epidemic diseases, though it has
occurred in cases like HIV and SARS, is comparatively rare. And some viola-
tions of liberty would have no basis: even if the new rapid-test technologies
have lower false positive rates than the older, slower tests, if they are adminis-
tered to huge numbers of passengers—indeed, all passengers and all crew on
every flight, there may be some number of people mistakenly identified and
kept behind.
Of course, false positives are hardly the problem, since, we assume, they
would be comparatively few compared to true positives. The burden they im-
pose, moreover, may be comparatively minor: brief delay until, with a 20-
minute retest, the diagnosis is corrected. To be sure, air travelers might have to
build in a few extra minutes to allow for the possibility of a retest, but this
would not even be necessary if the testing process could be incorporated into
the screening lines found at major international airports today. The real issue is
whether identification of true positives in this way is an objective that can be
ethically acceptable. After all, if rapid tests were routinely administered for all
known infectious diseases, as we are supposing, there would be very substan-
tial numbers of people correctly identified as infected by one or more disease-
causing organisms. Disease-surveillance networks on a national or global
scale, making accurate identification of outbreaks possible, would assemble
huge amounts of data. To be sure, sophisticated forms of molecular testing
might be able to distinguish between people in communicable phases of spe-
cific diseases, people in incubation phases but not yet contagious, people cur-
rently undergoing effective treatment for disease, or people who carry antibod-
ies from former exposures but who can no longer transmit the disease. For this
thought-experiment, however, assume just that it identifies anyone who could
pass a disease along to someone else, either directly or through an intermediate
vector. People testing positive would be detained and offered treatment, barred
from their flights and other movement through check points—their liberty
sharply curtailed—until no longer infected with a disease they could transmit.
But not everybody flies in planes. So continue the thought experiment:
the rapid-test equipment, yielding results for (let us assume) all known com-
municable infectious diseases in just 20 minutes, can be used not only in air-
ports but in schools, stadiums, hospitals, churches, movie theatres, shopping
centers, even your local grocery store. Schools? Between the time you enter
the vestibule and the time you’re allowed to stuff your books in your locker,
you are tested; it’s straight to the school infirmary if you have a communicable
disease. Hospitals? Nursing homes? Between the time you check in at the front
desk and the time you’re allowed to visit a friend or make rounds on your pa-
tients there, you’re tested—whether you’re a visitor or the physician. Riding
the train or entering the subway? A short 20-minute delay would be all that’s
necessary before you’re on your way—or held back, in the interests of keeping
you from transmitting your disease to others, whether in the confined space of
a public vehicle or to whatever contacts you might meet at your destination.
The same picture could be true in the third world as in the first: there would be
no entry into spaces of close human contact without first ensuring that you will
not bring your transmissible disease with you. In many places—airports,
schools, stadiums, tall buildings—you may already be screened for weapons,
and some institutions—prisons and the military, for example—already do quite
broad testing as one enters. Our thought experiment about universal infectious-
disease testing is a screening of a related sort, in that it screens you for your
potential to cause harm to others.
The magnitude of inconvenience and violations of liberty this thought
experiment suggests may seem overwhelming. No easy freedom of movement,
no spontaneous travel, no liberty of association—virtually all public movement
and contact is potentially constricted in the interests of protecting others. Of
course, not all movement and association is restricted—those who are disease-
free can still board planes or go to the market or visit their (noninfectious)
friends in hospitals, but if you are sick, you cannot pass through until you no
longer test positive. As tests become available that can distinguish between
persons who are infected and persons who are contagious, the restriction
would need only to extend until the contagious period has passed.
To be sure, your inconvenience needn’t always be great. For many dis-
eases, point-of-care or over-the-counter tests can be used in advance, before
you set out for the airport or other public place. Inconvenience and financial
impact could be reduced: for example, airlines could be required not to penal-
ize passengers by charging higher fares for those forced to change their depar-
ture dates in this way, and schools and workplaces required not to flunk stu-
dents or dock workers with confirmed evidence of communicable disease. To
be sure, not all costs can be avoided: there will be meetings and weddings
missed, vacations cancelled, and reunions thwarted. For specific diseases with
long-term transmission possibilities—HIV or TB, for instance—proof of ongo-
ing treatment or perhaps an antibody titer could be provided, much as one re-
quires a special permit to carry a gun aboard a plane. But the violation of lib-
erty is often substantial: for diseases with acute phases and high transmission
profiles—polio or influenza—you cannot pass through public spaces where
testing is required until you are no longer identified as infected—or, more pre-
cisely, as contagious. No excuses and no exceptions: dignitaries and pilots are
tested at the airport just as routinely as coach class passengers are, while ball-
players and their coaches are tested at the stadium just as routinely as the spec-
tators and clergy and their altar attendants are tested at churches along with all
their parishioners. In this thought-experiment, universal testing means just
that—universal—in all places of public congregation and contact.
The financial costs of universal testing might be great, especially at the
outset as people adjusted to the screening programs. The costs of disease
avoided might be even greater, especially if screening programs were limited
to more serious infectious diseases. Our question here concerns the moral costs
of such a program.
Shades of Ellis Island? People with infectious diseases, after long and arduous
sea-voyages in search of a better life, cut off at the border—inspected, barred
from entry, held in involuntary quarantine, and shipped back where they came
from, or, not infrequently, held in confinement until they died? Many if not
most countries had such regulations, and they were all inhumane in the sense
that they thwarted people’s most basic dreams and consigned them to a public-
health limbo or worse. The idea was to keep diseases out—tuberculosis, meas-
les, diphtheria, trachoma, typhus, yellow fever, cholera, plague—and the only
known way to do that was to keep the people who had these diseases out as
well. Ships reporting cholera deaths were quarantined; for example, in the
summer of 1892, the Hamburg-American liner Moravia arrived offshore at
New York flying the yellow flag, reporting that 22 of 230 passengers had died
of cholera during the voyage. Another 96 died during the following month,
either on the way to New York or in quarantine. 3
Exclusionary quarantine at national borders was practiced by many coun-
tries. For example, amid great public fear in the wake of the cholera epidemic
of 1832, Canada established a quarantine station at Grosse Île, an island in the
St. Lawrence 48 kilometers below Québec City, where ships with immigrants
were required to land. By 1847, the migrations of poor and malnourished Irish
fleeing the Great Famine were huge, with typhus and dysentery rampant
among people packed in unsanitary conditions aboard ships unsuited for such
large numbers. During the summer of 1847, some 5000 immigrants died at sea.
Many more died waiting offshore for permission to land. Those who did land,
some 12,000 immigrants, both sick and well, were held in quarantine on the
island in grossly inadequate facilities. Many of those who had been well be-
came ill, and many never reached their destination; 5424 are buried at Grosse
Île. 4
It is tempting to describe these events—now regarded as “one of the sad-
dest pages in Canadian history” 5 —as an immense violation of justice, not only
in trying to protect people on shore from disease but also as a response to pub-
lic fears. Along with immigrants who were already ill, many others who were
well were confined on ships or kept on Grosse Île, even when it was clear that
they would become infected and die. These once-hopeful immigrants suffered
and lived as victims, but they were perceived by the quarantine authorities—
and particularly by the public—as vectors. These immigrants had hardly con-
sented to such treatment; they had come to the New World for a better future,
but were sent back, or died. This was not because they were trying to enter
illegally or had past criminal records or for any other reason of policy-
governed justice, but because some among them were discovered to have
communicable infectious diseases—over which they had no control. They had
no real opportunity for informed or voluntary consent before they sailed, and
no guarantee of just procedure once they arrived. To be sure, some of this can
be attributed to the huge numbers of immigrants that overwhelmed the border
stations; but some of it was due to failure to recognize the ethical issues in-
volved in treating people in these ways. Throughout history, quarantines, used
by many authorities in many different time periods for many different diseases,
may have reduced the extent of infectious-disease epidemics, even if they did
not prevent them, but almost always at tremendous human cost.
Now consider our thought-experiment about molecular rapid testing in
airports and other places of public contact. Is it as morally problematic as the
crude border controls at Ellis Island, Grosse Île, and elsewhere around the
world? The invasions and restrictions our thought-experiment posits may seem
to be far greater: people who test positive for communicable disease cannot
board planes, or trains, or ships, or for that matter even the downtown subway,
whether in the developed or in the developing world. In the most far-reaching
versions, assuming the relevant rapid-test technology can be devised that eas-
ily, quickly, cheaply, and accurately identifies those who could pass on infec-
tious disease, not only cannot one visit a hospitalized friend, but one can be
prevented from going to a ball game, shopping in a supermarket, going to
church, going to one’s class at school. This is a far more invasive conjecture
than the kinds of border controls erected at Ellis Island or Grosse Île—those
sieved out hundreds of boatloads of immigrant hopefuls, but this new conjec-
ture would affect virtually everybody.
But therein lies the key. Ellis Island and Grosse Île’s exclusionary poli-
cies had comparatively little effect and were clearly unjust because they were
applied to new immigrants only—sometimes just to steerage-class
passengers 6 —but did nothing to identify disease-carriers among people
already in the country. They didn’t work, or work sufficiently to avoid
contagion overall, because they didn’t affect everybody. In effect, some were
forced to consent, while others were entirely excused. In no other situation
were people already in the country screened in a universal and repeated way
for infectious disease. True, there were extensive public health efforts to
control infectious disease and heroic efforts to identify, treat, and prevent
disease, but nothing that involved routine, regular, repeated screening of
virtually the entire population. (Nor would it have been possible, since
screening would have had to involve physical assessment by a physician or
trained public-health official, not a simple sample read cheaply and
automatically in 20 minutes or less.)
Thus the high moral cost of the exclusionary quarantine policies at Ellis
Island, Grosse Île, and many other places around the world did not weigh well
against these policies’ effect in reducing the burden of disease. The idea in the
thought-experiment we are considering here cuts the other way: these policies
would sometimes involve moderate practical and moral costs—imposing re-
strictions of liberty, violations of privacy and confidentiality, and violations of
requirements of informed consent (all perhaps involved in being forced to miss
a plane)—but would promise huge public gains in reducing the burden of dis-
ease. But this does not yet entail that the ethical violation is warranted for the
end in sight.
D. Violations of Justice.
It might also be said that universal screening of the sort our thought-
experiment imagines, carried out on a global scale, would raise issues of dis-
tributive justice: since infectious disease is more prevalent among those of
all of them (or at least all of them without sizeable animal reservoirs not need-
ing transmission from humans) could be wiped from the face of the earth. At
the end of the decade, let us suppose, the entire apparatus of universal testing
could be dismantled and suspended, kept in readiness and only reinstituted if
some unanticipated outbreak were to occur.
Of course, such a policy would be ethically tolerable only under at least
these conditions:
the need for further such testing as well. To be sure, the possibility of complete
disease eradication is greatest where the human is the only host—as in small-
pox and polio, though not in some other serious infectious diseases—though
the list of human-host-only diseases is nevertheless quite long, and similar test-
ing regimens could be introduced for at least animal populations kept in con-
trolled conditions, like poultry and cattle. A universal rapid-testing policy
would be self-limiting in the end, as the various diseases were controlled and
finally wiped out. Thus the invasions of liberty, privacy and confidentiality,
informed consent, and justice generally involved in this policy would be tem-
porary, short-lived, but its gains in the elimination of disease permanent. Per-
haps simplistic ways of thinking about these moral issues would be put to rest
as well: the individualist picture of one person’s interests pitted against, rather
than with, those of another, would need reform, and a revised understanding of
the sense in which one individual’s interests in liberty, privacy, confidentiality,
and justice are violated would need to be developed. This would be a new ethi-
cal picture, perhaps an ancient dream of public health but new to bioethics—of
individuals’ common interest in extricating oneself—indeed, all of ourselves—
from the web of infectious disease all human beings share.
Is this speculation a proposal, a thought-experiment, or what? Clearly, it
isn’t science fiction, or only science fiction: already, a research group headed
by Dr. Paul Yager at the University of Washington is working under a $15.4
million Grand Challenges in Global Health grant from the Bill and Melinda
Gates Foundation to develop diagnostic tools that can be more easily used in
the developing world; their point-of-care diagnostic system anticipates being
able to test blood for a range of diseases, including bacterial infections, nutri-
tional status, and HIV-related illnesses. The investigators envision that health
care workers would load a small blood sample onto a disposable test card
about the size of a credit card, containing all of the necessary test re-agents; the
test card would then be inserted into a device about the size of a handheld
computer; it would yield results in about 10 minutes. 8 They don’t, we believe,
have universal airport screening for infectious disease in mind, but better diag-
nosis of multiple conditions in the developing world. Yet we can see the impli-
cations of technological developments such as this for the world as a whole,
particularly as it confronts the threats of infectious disease. Would the devel-
oped world cooperate in the control of infectious disease as well?
Thus, in the end, this speculation isn’t just a proposal or a thought-
experiment; rather, it’s an invitation to consider what price we would pay if we
had some realistic chance of eliminating infectious disease—which, perhaps,
we do: a decade of infectious-disease inconvenience, we might imagine, for the
goal of virtually complete eradication. There’d be disagreement over the poli-
tics of such a program, of course, and especially over whether treatment would
be mandated or measures like quarantine or isolation would be imposed on
those who tested positive but refused available, effective treatment, but the
challenge for us here is to consider the deeper ethical issues and the basis on
which they rest. The very notion of “a price to pay” in terms of autonomy, re-
strictions of liberty, violations of privacy and confidentiality, and violations of
justice suggests a conception of the individual and personal autonomy still
seen as discrete, not yet fully understood as relational and embodied. To rec-
ognize that the ethical challenges raised here by our thought experiment are
not in the end unethical, we must revise that underlying picture of ourselves
that sees our interests as in competition rather than in concert in the control of
transmission in infectious disease. Rather, our interests in this matter fortu-
nately coincide, and we would all have a common interest in accepting rapid
testing everywhere—airports and places of public contact—if we could thus
rid ourselves of the universal burden of communicable infectious disease.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
A later version of this chapter has appeared under the title “A Thought Ex-
periment: Rapid-Test Screening for Infectious Disease in Airports and Places
of Public Contact” as chapter 15 of Margaret P. Battin, Leslie P. Francis, Jay
A. Jacobson, and Charles B. Smith, The Patient as Victim and Vector: Ethics
and Infectious Disease (New York: Oxford University Press, 2009).
NOTES
1. Cf. Alexi A. Wright and Ingrid T. Katz, “Home Testing for HIV,” New Eng-
land Journal of Medicine, 354:437-440 (2 February 2006), p. 4.
2. Philip W. H. Peng, David T. Wong, David Bevan, and Michael Gardam, “In-
fectious Control and Anaesthesia: Lessons Learned from the Toronto SARS Outbreak,”
Canadian Journal of Anesthesia 50:989-997 (2003), p. 2; Toronto Star,
www.thestar.com/static/PDF/030926_sars_h4_h5.pdf, accessed 3.23.06.
3. “How We Guard Against the Introduction of Cholera: Where the Scourge
Originated and How the Government Copes With It When It Gets to These Shores: Dr.
Doty Explodes Some Erroneous Beliefs on the Subject of the Dread Disease.” The New
York Times, July 23, 1911, page 1, Sunday magazine section.
4. www.pc.gc.ca/lhn-nhs/qc/grosseile/docs/plan1/sec3/page2biii_E.asp, accessed
3.23.06.
5. www.pc.gc.ca/lhn-nhs/qc/grosseile/docs/plan1/sec3/page2bi_E.asp, accessed
3.23.06.
6. New York Times, July 23, 1911.
7. Margaret P. Battin, Leslie P. Francis, Jay A. Jacobson, and Charles B. Smith,
The Patient as Victim and Vector: Ethical Issues in Infectious Disease (New York:
Oxford University Press, 2009).
8. Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, Grand Challenges in Global Health, pro-
ject #14. http://www.gcgh.org/subcontent.aspx?SecID=391.
1. Introduction
search there are powerful reasons why we should. But can we, and how are we
to think about whether or not we can?
Of course the legitimacy of using animals in research partly depends on
whether or not their use is necessary to protect human lives and interests and to
promote human welfare. However such use might be ruled out from the start if
there were compelling reasons to think that animals, or some animals, have the
same rights and interests as humans or some humans, or rights and interests of
similar nature and force to those which in normal circumstances protect most
humans. We cannot after all (except perhaps in the most dire emergency) use
some humans for the benefit of others without their consent. And indeed often
we cannot use humans instrumentally even with their consent, as for example
in the prohibition of the donation of vital organs (organs without which hu-
mans will die) for live donation. We do not permit competent humans to do-
nate a heart for example. 2 We should now examine the Nuffield Council’s
considered answers to these questions.
This chapter has aimed to lay out the critical elements of the current
moral debate. We have argued that the following questions must be con-
sidered:
i) The debate is not best characterised in terms of the relative moral status
of humans and animals but in terms of what features of humans and ani-
mals are of moral concern, in the sense of making certain forms of treat-
ment morally problematic.
ii) Once those features are identified, the question needs to be asked as to
how they should be taken into account in moral reasoning. Are they fac-
tors to be weighed against others, or do they function as absolute prohibi-
tions?
iii) Finally, what does it mean to be a moral agent? How should moral
agency be considered in the regulatory framework that governs animal
research?
This seems a useful and productive “solution” if we accept that agreement be-
tween the most radically opposed positions is unlikely, and that therefore some
solution that builds on the fact of disagreement is the best that can be obtained.
However it also assumes that the extreme pro-animal view none-the-less
accepts a difference in moral status between animals and humans or that the
extreme pro-animal view is unreasonable. For if it were to be considered rea-
sonable to regard animals as entitled to the same protections as humans, or
likewise if it was reasonable to believe animals and humans shared the same
moral status, then inviting those who share these views to accept animal re-
search with protections would be like asking fellow citizens to accept or even
participate in the “protected” murder or imprisonment and torture of other
moral equals. But if there is a difference in moral status between animals and
humans or, if the pro-animal view that denied this is demonstrably unreason-
able, then the reasons for either of these conclusions would (probably) provide
a basis for a definitive account of what is or is not morally permissible by way
of animal research and use by humans and the process “solution” would be
redundant.
Two further considerations are then discussed by Nuffield, they are the
issues of “moral status” and “consistency.”
3. Moral Status
I should myself declare an interest at this point, and it is that I have over many
years developed and used a moral status account of personhood 3 which I be-
lieve helps both with distinctions between different human individuals (zy-
gotes, embryos, neonates, and individuals in permanent vegetative state among
others). As we have noted NCR rejects moral status as a helpful approach.
If the NCR is right when it claims that the “debate is not best character-
ized in terms of the relative moral status of humans and animals but in terms of
what features of humans and animals are of moral concern, in the sense of
making certain forms of treatment morally problematic” then only if animal
research is unacceptable can moral status be irrelevant. Consider, three main
features that are relevant to moral concern for animals are their capacity to feel
pain, and experience suffering and premature death. The only way that pain,
suffering or premature death of animals can be justifiable to spare humans the
same, is either by establishing that pain, suffering and premature death are less
bad, or less important when experienced by animals, or that even if they are
qualitatively comparable (whatever that may mean), human interests are more
important. Either or both of these considerations lead inexorably to a differ-
ence in moral status as the ground for permitting animals to be used instrumen-
tally in the service of humans. More detail as to why this is so will emerge as
we discuss moral status in more detail.
Thus, so far from it being true that the debate is “not best characterized in
terms of the relative moral status of humans and animals,” by far the best can-
didate for an explanation of the difference between most animals and most
humans which might bear upon the legitimacy of the human use of animals is
the idea of “moral status” and in the reasons for according that status. More-
over, as we have noted, the NCR establishes just this point only, perhaps inad-
vertently, to resile from it. It is moral status (or strictly the reasons for differ-
ences in moral status) that explains differences in ways in which it may be
considered appropriate to treat certain individuals or classes of individuals and
we follow the NCR definition of moral status in expanding on this point.
In the United Kingdom experimentation on human embryos is permissi-
ble, legal and widely accepted. Equally abortion, in some circumstances right
up to term, is also legal and again widely accepted. These facts show that the
human individual at certain stages has a different moral and legal status to that
of normal adult humans for example.
These differences in moral and legal status are accepted in most jurisdic-
tions and have been repeatedly upheld in the European Court of Human
Rights. 4
The NCR offers one major reason for rejecting the pivotal role of moral
status; it is perhaps over-concentration on this point that leads NCR to sideline
the idea of moral status which it elsewhere uses to good effect:
3.21 It could easily be assumed that the justification for using animals for
research (and other uses) depends entirely on the question of the relative
moral status of humans and animals. Then the defence of animal use
would be the same task as showing that only humans have moral status,
or that their status is in some way “higher” than that of animals. But this
assumption might be too simplistic. Suppose it was possible to establish
that … all humans are more important moral subjects than all animals.
Yet this is not enough to show that animals can properly be sacrificed for
human purposes. For it may be that although humans are morally more
important than animals, they have a moral duty of stewardship to “lesser”
beings ….
While this last point about the permissibility of harmful research not following
“by necessity” from moral status is surely right, it does not succeed in its pur-
pose of demonstrating the irrelevance of moral status to the question of how
animals can be treated. It is if course true that differences in moral status be-
tween most humans and most animals do not do all the work in justifying par-
ticular uses (or abuses) of animals. However, the reasons for differences in
moral status can (and do usually) also show why human interests take priority
over those of animals.
The concept of “stewardship” does not show that this moral status ap-
proach is sometimes false. Stewardship may be an obligation with respect to
animals, but stewardship may imply duties to species or particular populations
rather than to individuals or it may license the sacrifice of some individuals for
the sake of others. Such forms of stewardship are not possible among humans
precisely because we share a moral status which precludes the sacrifice of
some innocent human individuals for the sake of others. (There are exceptional
circumstances in which such trade-offs between human lives are made and
condoned, but almost all moral theories and the political and legal systems of
all democratic societies combine to identify such trade-offs as unethical and
illegal.) Stewardship of animals by humans may therefore be consistent with
population management which may involve culling and other selective killing
of individuals, principally because we humans are satisfied that animals have a
different moral status which does not preclude such forms of stewardship. If
you can sacrifice individual animals to animal populations, or indeed some
individuals for the benefit of other individual animals, then it is less difficult to
justify their sacrifice for human populations (by hypothesis populations of a
more important moral status). The contrary is also false. We humans often re-
gard ourselves as in some sense stewards of one another, but again, contra the
way stewardship is perceived and is justifiable in the case of animals, this does
not imply that selective culling (even if demonstrably in the interests of the
species) is ever justifiable.
We note that there are of course justifications available for killing and
otherwise harming creatures of the same moral status as ourselves: killing in
war and in self-defense, imprisonment of criminals and so on are all done to
other people who share our moral status, they are all equally the bearers of
rights with important interests we are normally obliged to respect. However
the difference in moral status between humans and animals usually reflects the
defensible belief that animals lack important rights and interests which, if pre-
sent, would afford protection from being killed or harmed except in pursuit of
a just war, self-defense etc. 5
Equally, while the difference in moral status may not straightforwardly
license the infliction of pain on animals, if important differences in moral
status are sustainable, this does imply important differences in how the legal
and moral doctrine of “necessity” is to be understood between creatures of dif-
ferent moral status, so that we may the more easily imagine and justify the ne-
cessity of using creatures of lesser rather than those of greater moral status.
4. Consistency
In Chapter 15 the NCR sets out its main conclusions. Paragraph 15.9 states
emphatically:
All research licensed in the UK has the potential to cause pain, suffering,
distress or lasting harm to the animals used. Most animals are killed at
the end of experiments. A world in which the important benefits of such
research could be achieved without causing pain, suffering, distress, last-
ing harm or death to animals involved in research must be the ultimate
goal.
This is a daring and radical conclusion, for while all would agree to the aim of
eliminating “pain, suffering, distress,” and “lasting harm,” the addition of
“death” to this list raises acute issues of consistency. It invites readers of NCR
to endorse the principal of accepting as an ultimate goal a world in which “the
important benefits of such research could be achieved without causing …
death” to animals. It is difficult to see how if there are ethical considerations
which mandate this as the goal for animal research it should not also be the
goal for all human interactions with animals including food production and
sport. While all would agree to the aim of eliminating pain, suffering, distress,
and lasting harm, the addition of death to this list is highly problematic. Why
should this be the goal of all research in the UK when it is not the goal of all
[T]he view might be taken that the use of approximately 2.7 million ani-
mals in research is relatively insignificant when compared to more than
950 million livestock and nearly 500,000 tonnes of fish used annually for
food production in the U.K. … or when compared to the number of wild
birds and mice killed by pet cats, which has been estimated to be 300 mil-
lion per year. 6 The benefit to humans in using animals as food entails
primarily an increased range in dietary variety, while the benefits of ani-
mal research can consist in significant developments in scientific pro-
gress and human welfare.
This chapter has not attempted to resolve the question of the legitimacy
of animal research. What it has done is indicate that the ethics of animal re-
search will be resolved, if at all, by an account of moral status which can show
whether or not animals or some animals can share the same moral status with
humans or with some humans. In short whether animals or some animals can
possess rights and/or interests which protect them from instrumentalization in
the service of other creatures. It is difficult to see how the ethics of animal re-
search or indeed of other uses of animals can be adequately addressed in the
absence of general agreement on moral status.
We have also seen that it would be inconsistent to place limitations on the
use of animals in science research which are not placed on the necessarily less
urgent and morally important use of animals in food, sport, domestic service
and farming.
NOTES
1. Introduction
Since I first met Matti Häyry, criticism has been an important and delightful
feature of our interaction. In public meetings, in publications, in face to face
conversations, and in email communications, I have learned from, and taken
pleasure in, Matti’s quick wit and insightful comments. Aside from these pub-
lic and private bits of repartée, I have become a strong admirer of Matti’s dis-
tinctive style of argument. The Häyry papers that I have enjoyed most make
people rethink their positions and assumptions by challenging them with crea-
tive (counter-) examples. His paper, “A rational cure for pre-reproductive
stress syndrome,” 1 is a case in point that also illustrates the Häyry brand of
sarcasm. In that article Matti explains that the death of some embryos is fre-
quently an inevitable consequence of reproductive activities because a signifi-
cant percentage of the embryos that are created can then be expected to die.
The foreseeable death of embryos from attempts at reproduction can, however,
easily be prevented by abstaining from procreative activities. Hence, Häyry
argues, those who see killing an embryo as murder are committed to avoiding
procreative activities entirely. The only way to avoid Häyry’s compelling con-
clusion is to give up one of premises as untenable, which I presume is the in-
tended consequence of the extended discussion.
Häyry is superb at this form of argument, and he is clearly a master of
making philosophy fun. For that reason, I take Matti to be a role model to
those of us who see education and correction as important goals of our work in
bioethics. In that light, Matti’s work brings bioethics into the Socratic tradi-
tion.
I shall, therefore, take my task in this chapter to be honoring Matti as a
true disciple of Socrates. He has enlightened me about issues in bioethics and
showed me how to effectively bring humor and persuasive argument to bear in
teaching sensitive and complicated material. I hope to repay that debt in kind.
In his comments on an early draft of a recent paper that I published on re-
search ethics, 2 Matti suggested that I reverse the order of argument by starting,
rather than ending, with my controversial example. He thought that the project
would be clearer if I first put forward the example, and then went on to show
why what I was suggesting was perfectly reasonable. At the time, I thought
that reworking the paper as he suggested, would involve too much work and
that it would also make people too indignant to take my arguments seriously.
So, I did the paper my way. Readers were irate none the less and many failed
to understand the substance of my position. I know this to be a fact because the
paper received a surprisingly large amount of criticism, most of which showed
significant misunderstanding of the view that I intended to put forth and
seemed largely to miss my point. So, in this paper, I should like to try the ar-
gument again, but this time, doing it Matti’s way.
It is also hard to pass up an opportunity to continue an ongoing argument
with Matti Häyry. From his extensive work on utilitarianism it is clear that
Häyry is a utilitarian with a particularly strong commitment to Mill’s views on
liberty. 3 From all that I have read I conclude that Häyry shares Mill’s views on
the importance of liberty and that he sees “the harm principle” as the singular
justification for limiting liberty. In what follows, I also want to take issue with
Matti on that position and press for accepting a broader range of reasons as
justifying restrictions on liberty. We have previously jousted over this particu-
lar issue in the context of genetic ignorance 4 and abortion, 5 and now we can
do it again in the context of research ethics.
Imagine a just democratic state in which all residents have access to a national
healthcare system that provides for treatment based on need and efficacy and
that makes allocation decisions by employing broadly endorsed principles that
are fairly applied. Further imagine that those residing in the state are largely
satisfied with the national health system, its arrangements for the delivery of
state of the art care, and its provisions for the timely and fair adjudication of
disputes that arise from time to time.
In that same society now imagine that after sharing information about the
conduct of human subject research (for instance, about actual harms that have
been suffered by research subjects since the institution of research regulations,
about advances achieved through previous studies and about options for im-
proved research oversight), after an opportunity for discussion, and a period of
lively free and open debate, a social consensus emerges and with bi-partisan
support the legislature passes a bill that requires every resident to perform
some research service, say, every ten years. According to the carefully crafted
measure, while every one would be required to serve as a subject in some re-
search study, each individual (or in the case of incompetent people, their sur-
rogate decision maker) would be left the freedom to choose the particular pro-
ject for research service from among all of the projects listed on a national
web-site for which they meet the selection criteria. For healthy individuals, the
Because this society and this proposal are only imagined, I cannot actually
recount the arguments that led to its adoption. I can only provide the kind of
arguments that would lead to such a conclusion and offer a rebuttal for the
kinds of objections that readers are likely to raise.
Since World War II, we have witnessed a dramatic increase in biomedical
knowledge and tremendous progress in creating effective treatments for dis-
ease. These are benefits that flow from human subject research. We are also
aware that we stand on the brink of a cascade of spectacular advances in bio-
medical technology related to insights into human genetics, the promise of
stem cell research, and the growing understanding of the role of viruses in dis-
eases such as cancer and the possibility of preventing them through immuniza-
tion. Developments in genetic screening, genetic testing, pharmaco-genetics
(which would match drugs with individuals based on the individual’s genetic
likelihood of responding) and gene-transfer therapy as well as tissue replace-
ment modalities and other pay-offs from stem cell research hold out significant
hope for the prevention, detection and treatment of disease. Furthermore, we
are aware of the revived threat of biological warfare and the new threats of
bioterrorism, as well as the new spectrum of worries related to deadly infec-
tious diseases such as avian flu, mad cow disease, SARS, and Ebola. These
infectious threats create a need for new vaccines, new preventive measures,
and new treatments.
Those who consider the potential for advances in today’s less than ideal
medical treatments, immunization, and disease prevention, recognize that al-
most everyone would want medicine to be able to provide effective treatment
when she or he or loved ones should need it. And from the recognition that
their compatriots are subject to the same biological vulnerabilities and that
they too would want medical interventions for themselves and their loved
ones, beneficence directs that the benefits that medicine can provide should be
made available to others in their society with medical needs. Yet, without hu-
man subject research, those treatments are far less likely to be available. So, in
light of the appreciation of human vulnerability to injury and disease and the
rent regulations and guidelines, would allow their judgment to serve as a check
on researcher bias. 12
(3) Informed and voluntary selection of projects by subject-participants
would keep research design to an ethically reasonable standard because re-
searchers would be reluctant to publicly describe procedures that they should
not undertake. When subjects are kept in the dark and researchers can conceal
the nature of what they are doing behind masks of deception and duplicity,
some researchers could be tempted to do things they otherwise would not. In
the light of full disclosure, a well-nurtured sense of shame is likely to inhibit
those who might be tempted to stretch the moral limits. In this way, a publicity
condition that makes research proposals transparent to the biomedical research
community, to the public, and to the prospective subjects inhibits researchers
from undertaking unreasonable studies.
(4) Informed consent would also be the principal mechanism for permit-
ting people liberty and assuring respect for subject autonomy. It would allow
individuals to fulfill their research obligations within a framework that recog-
nizes and values the broad range of human goals and commitments. Family
responsibilities, career agendas, personal projects, tastes, attitudes toward risk
and pain, and an assortment of other individual concerns could make some
particular project choices reasonable and acceptable to some and different ones
reasonable and acceptable to others. For a person who has suffered from
schizophrenia and found the burdens associated with current drug regimes very
onerous, the risks associated with a drug-free wash out period for a trial of a
new drug could be worth taking. For another with a family history of Alz-
heimer’s disease, the discomfort and inconvenience of a study that could ad-
vance the scientific understanding of that particular degenerative process could
be worth taking. For someone else, it could be important to find a project that
could be done from home or completed within a single day. For another, a
study that involved new technology (for instance, PET scans) would be most
interesting. And for another, the more human interaction the better. Leaving
the judgment to the involved individuals is likely to actually expand the pa-
rameters of acceptable research beyond those set by today’s disinterested “pro-
tectors” of research subjects because individuals’ personal values and personal
attitudes toward risk vary significantly. That’s precisely the point of valuing
liberty and respecting autonomy.
I fully expect that there will be readers who view the ethical conduct of human
subject research in terms of the currently accepted doctrines and, therefore, see
my proposal as immoral. Some critics of my proposal for universal required
participation in biomedical research may see it as a violation of autonomy, in
that it would require participation even from those who would prefer not serv-
ing as a research subject. That stand would, however, miss the point of auton-
omy as the rule-giving, self-legislating capacity to undertake responsibility and
to create influences to control one’s own behavior. Every principle and every
policy that a person endorses constrains her own future behavior. That’s what
every personal commitment does, and it is what all laws do. Most people do
want biomedical science to pursue therapeutic advances, and they are prepared
to do their fair share when others do so as well. So, when a person seriously
considers the proposal as well as the alternatives, and then endorses a policy of
required research participation, compliance and even compulsory participation
do not violate autonomy because it is the rule that the person legislates for her-
self. Just as other laws compel compliance from those who previously en-
dorsed them in one way or another, there is no obvious reason why a research
participation policy should be different. Neither laws nor policies that one en-
dorses violate autonomy by requiring compliance when the laws or policies
are, in fact, the expression of an autonomous choice.
Oh duty,
Why hast thou not the visage of a sweetie or a cutie?
Kind of an Ode to Duty, Ogden Nash
In On Liberty, John Stuart Mill argues for the importance of liberty and that
the prevention of harm to others is the only legitimate justification for a state’s
infringement on liberty. 13 Those, including Matti Häyry, who embrace Mill’s
view might join me in acknowledging the importance of research participation.
Yet, I expect that Matti and those who share Mill’s perspective would balk at
the idea of making it mandatory and compelling participation. They could ac-
tually find an infringement on liberty for the sake of advancing the common
good to be immoral. I also appreciate that many want to avoid hearing that
they have to, or that they must, do anything. People often share Ogden Nash’s
sentiment and would rather accept the gentler conclusion that it would be nice
if you would participate, or that you’d be a dear if you would sign on, but it’s
totally up to you.
Although I agree that safeguarding liberty is a very important ethical con-
sideration, I also believe that doing some things is sometimes a matter of duty.
There are also factors beyond harm to others that can sometimes justify over-
riding individual liberty.
In the case of research participation, at least three significant reasons jus-
tify limiting liberty: the importance of advancing biomedical science for the
common good, the moral importance of equality with the concomitant problem
of injustice created by free-riders, and the need for general cooperation for the
success of the project. Whereas my presentation above inherently incorporated
all three threads, allow me to tease them apart to further clarify the need for
accepting research participation as a duty and the ground for a mandatory par-
ticipation policy.
Advancing the Common Good. Because almost everyone and almost all
of their loved ones has medical needs at some point in their lives, and because
we frequently cannot know in advance which medical needs any particular
subject will have in the future, and because researchers sometimes need to
study subjects who are ill, sometimes subjects from different genetic groups,
and sometimes entire populations, participation in research should be seen as a
prima facie social duty. Medical needs are very widely appreciated. Some-
times a medical need is related to a genetic predisposition, sometimes some
accident of life. Nevertheless, when a person perceives the need to have a con-
dition of the body alleviated, they want the means to be available to address
the problem, and today many conditions cannot be satisfactorily addressed
with currently available interventions. Yet, advancing the good that medicine
can do can only be achieved by studying our bodies. Whereas other social ob-
ligations can be fulfilled in other ways (e.g., by writing a check, by sending a
stand-in, by paying for someone else’s labor), at a certain point in biomedical
research, there is nothing that we can substitute for us. Study involves some
sacrifice of our flesh, our privacy, our safety, our comfort, and our time.
Because these basic goods that medicine can provide are precious to eve-
ryone, non-instrumental basic moral principles of equality, universalization,
and mutual love require us to give of ourselves as we would wish to receive
from others. For those reasons, every one should accept responsibility for do-
ing her fair share so as to further the common good of biomedical science from
which we expect ourselves and our loved ones to ultimately benefit. In sum,
the fragility of our bodies, the invasiveness of research, our emotional and ge-
netic interrelatedness, the lack of an adequate alternative, and the commonality
of the desire to benefit from medical knowledge combine to create the partici-
patory duty. Ethically speaking, when something is a duty, it is no longer op-
tional, it is morally required.
The practice of medicine is advanced by research. When physicians and
patients acknowledge and accept that treatment in the context of research of-
fers our best hope for advancing the field we will be significantly more likely
to improve medical knowledge. As an illustration, consider the field of organ
transplantation. Given the severe shortage of cadaveric transplant organs to-
gether with the growing demand for transplantation and retransplantation, it
becomes crucial to learn about conditions that are likely to promote graft and
patient survival and factors that are likely to predict organ rejection and other
problems. The model of research joined hand in hand with treatment that I am
advocating would consider every organ recipient as a patient and also as a col-
laborator in the ongoing research effort. A treatment approach that also em-
braces research would allow clinician researchers to store and identify speci-
mens and records for later use in projects that have not yet been conceived, to
follow-up with identifiable previous organ recipients to help confirm or dis-
confirm hypotheses, and to re-contact patients when they are needed to help
further future research goals. Because those who hope to benefit from receiv-
ing an organ transplant are beneficiaries of not only the donated transplant or-
gan, but also the knowledge already gained from the study of previously trans-
planted patients, and because opportunities to advance this field should not be
wasted, everyone who hopes to receive a transplant organ also has an obliga-
tion to participate in transplant research.
On this view the social purpose of biomedical research is a legitimate
goal for medicine, and advancing that goal requires accepting a moral duty to
do one’s fair share. Saying that we each have an obligation to participate in
biomedical research implies that clinicians should invite or even urge patients
to participate in research and that patients who refuse to participate have to
justify their refusal at least to themselves. Without going so far as actually
adopting my proposal, this suggested change in attitude toward research puts
the onus on the opposite side of where it has been under current conceptions of
the ethics of research. Once the social purpose of research is accepted as a le-
gitimate ground for a participatory duty, the next questions are who has such a
duty, and what measures to assure compliance are justified?
Equality. Although people are all different from each other in many
ways, they are similar enough to one another to be considered as if they were
equal in two important respects. First, biologically, people are all mortal, they
are all vulnerable to death, disease, and injury, and they all can experience
pain, suffering, and disability. Furthermore, the function of organs and the bio-
physiological processes in one human is very much like the function and proc-
esses in another. These biological factors make us roughly fungible equivalents
for purposes of medical treatment and biomedical research. What is learned on
one of us can be used later to benefit another.
Second, ethically, for the most part, at least among those who are capable
of abiding by moral rules and actually treating others as they think they should,
the differences between us are not significant enough to amount to a moral
difference in how we should treat one another: Every one is owed caring and
respect from others. Given these two sources of equality, we are morally
bound to treat one another as we would have others treat us. This is the basic
standard of morality.
Since we each would want medicine to be advanced enough to respond
effectively to whatever medical needs we should develop, and since treatment
advances necessarily involve human subject research, given our biological and
moral equality, we should not expect others to contribute their bodies when we
are not willing to do so as well. Accepting the medical advances of research on
others, when one has not contributed her own body in reasonably safe studies,
would be taking advantage of their participation without doing one’s fair share,
benefiting from the contributions of others while not contributing in kind. That
is the essence of being a free-rider, it amounts to treating others unjustly by
denying their moral equality. Hence, we are each required to do unto others as
we would have others do unto us, which, in this case means that we each have
a duty to participate in biomedical research, at least when the oversight is ade-
quate and when the studies are reasonably safe.
Collaborative Necessity. There are many projects that can be accom-
plished alone or in concert with just a few other individuals. Bench research
and animal studies surely fall into that category. Paying a salary is sufficient to
accomplish some of the tasks that require the participation of others. Many
Phase-1 drug studies could be conducted with paid subjects. 14 But other kinds
of research require people who actually have one condition or another. And in
some circumstances the risks and burdens of a study can only be justified when
it is performed on those whose serious or deteriorating medical condition
leaves them in a situation with little to lose, or perhaps lots to gain, from expo-
sure to the risks involved in a study. And in many situations, such as when
researchers are trying to determine unusual side effects of a drug, or subtle
differences in responses of alternative treatments, or the effects of some envi-
ronmental change on an entire population, or learn about the effectiveness of
treatment for some relatively rare condition, it is clear that everyone, or every-
one in the target group should participate as study subjects.
The achievement of numerous societal goods requires general coopera-
tion. Sometimes general cooperation is intrinsic to the good that is to be
achieved. For example, everyone must obey the criminal law in order to create
the safety and stability that the criminal law protects. Sometimes the justifica-
tion is structural. For example, to assure that every one accused of a crime can
be tried by peers, no individuals or groups can be privileged to opt out of jury
service. Sometimes general cooperation is required merely for reasons of effi-
cacy. For example, it would be too costly to provide non-fluoridated water to
those who want to avoid the chemical. Sometimes the requirement for doing
one’s fair share is justified by the great good that cannot be achieved without
general cooperation. Roads, schools, environmental protection, sanitation ser-
vices, a standing army, emergency management services, centers for disease
control, boards of elections, and an array of other services supported by taxes
are all instances of social goods that require funding from the general public.
Other social benefits require general behavioral compliance: observing traffic
regulations, abstaining from littering, cleaning up after your dog. Sometimes a
social good cannot be achieved when some are allowed to opt out. Water and
air pollution may be threatened by the exemption of even a few individuals.
In all such cases, the need for general cooperation justifies limitations on
individual liberty, even though harm to others would only apply as a justifica-
tion in a few examples. Because of the significant and important social good
that can be achieved through general cooperation in biomedical research, and
Human Research Subjects,” 16 and the agency for compliance was first the Of-
fice for the Protection from Research Risks (OPRR) and now the Office for
Human Research Protection (OHRP). Although there is an obvious intuitive
appeal in the desire to protect those who are least able to protect themselves,
current research policies too often limit research, particularly with individuals
who are classified as “vulnerable,” and thereby promote practices that are un-
ethical and unreasonable by being harmful, wasteful, or both. Rather than ac-
cording a reasonable balance to a range of interrelated issues that affect the
moral assessment of various projects, (e.g., risk, efficacy, justice, respect), the
rules give special weight to the protection of the vulnerable.
Under the banner of informed consent, the U.S. Department of Health
and Human Services has increasingly moved its regulatory attention in the di-
rection of protecting human research subjects from coercive pressures or
harms. Parents should certainly protect their children. But, consider the bike
riding policy that parents would adopt if they took protection to be their pri-
mary parental responsibility. Children would not be allowed to ride bikes be-
cause it would subject them to risk of harm. Parents who actually allow their
children to ride are likely to consider the importance of protection and also the
importance of other developmental goals such as: independence, risk manage-
ment, social interaction, and exploration. When a multiplicity of goals is ac-
cepted, protection is considered in the context of other critical objectives and
other aims will sometimes be overriding, particularly when potential subjects
who are perceived as vulnerable. 17
Presumably, certain groups cannot be expected to understand or appreci-
ate information about proposed research projects, and that makes them vulner-
able to exploitation and abuse. OPRR, and the newly created OHRP have reaf-
firmed protectionist commitments. According to their policies, and those of
IRBs that introduce additional policies inspired by the regulations, vulnerable
groups include: the mentally ill, the mentally handicapped, pregnant women,
fetuses, products of in vitro fertilization, children, prisoners, the elderly, people
who are in the midst of a medical emergency, and the educationally or eco-
nomically disadvantaged. That’s a lot of people. Even more vigorous efforts to
protect vulnerable subjects of research are urged by non-governmental groups
such as the Alliance for Human Research Protection.
Although the regulations express legitimate concerns about the potential
for harm, force, and deception, the efforts to protect the vulnerable are guided
by a distorted view of the significance of informed consent. Some groups that
are classified as “vulnerable” clearly lack decisional capacity. For that reason,
research involving children, the profoundly retarded, the seriously mentally ill,
the demented, and the unconscious clearly need special oversight. But protect-
ing research subjects from other groups based on their classification as “vul-
nerable” does not show respect for their autonomy and concern for liberty. It is
actually a denigration of their autonomy and an infringement on their liberty.
Protective policy presumes that the vulnerable are unable to appreciate and
assess risks and that judgment of benefits and burdens should, therefore, be
made by others. This is paternalism. It denies people the opportunity to evalu-
ate the costs and benefits of research participation in light of their own priori-
ties, their own goals, and their own values. Instead of respecting the autonomy
of others by assuming that they are autonomous, classifying people as “vulner-
able” denies them the ethically required default presumption, that they can
make decisions that reflect their own values and commitments.
The outlandishness of this approach to groups designated as “vulnerable”
becomes vivid when we notice that pregnant women are presumed to have the
capacity to make choices about child bearing, that the mentally ill are fre-
quently allowed to make choices about their living arrangements, and that re-
strictions on the liberty of the elderly or the educationally or economically dis-
advantaged in any circumstances other than consent to research would be
branded unacceptable discrimination. Although some who can be included in
these groups may lack decisional capacity, evaluation cannot be based on
group membership. The determination must be predicated on a demonstration
that the particular individual in question is not entitled to be presumed
autonomous or, for some reason, lacks the capacity to make a decision about
research participation in particular. 18
Respect for another as an autonomous being requires allowing that per-
son to make choices about research participation policy by assessing the per-
sonal and societal disadvantages and advantages involved. This permits indi-
viduals to factor their personal values and experience into their choice. When
those engaged in research oversight in the name of autonomy take the stance of
“protector,” they express a willingness to deny genuine respect for autonomy
out of fear of possibly allowing someone to make a less than ideally autono-
mous choice. However, as Mill and Häyry have taught us, respect for liberty
requires the opposite approach by recognizing the illegitimacy of limitations
on personal choice out of concern for the personal safety of others.
Yet, today’s research subject “protectors” seek ever more demanding
mechanisms of protection and search out more and more groups that may be
less than ideally rational and, so, in need of their protection. These well-
meaning efforts are misdirected and counter-productive in that many may do
more harm than good by curtailing liberty and disrespecting autonomous
choices. This fact is demonstrated in the U.S. by many people who suffer from
one disease or another organizing disease-based groups (e.g., the mentally ill)
to advocate for more research on their condition and fewer restrictions on par-
ticipation.
I am suggesting instead that regulative attention be directed at the devel-
opment of reasonable boundaries for the conduct of human subject research.
Rather than focusing narrowly on the protection of vulnerable subjects, IRBs
should prohibit everyone from participation in studies that are unreasonably
Parents who allow their children to ride bikes, may impose limitations
that reflect a concern about protection from excessive or likely risks. Parents
may restrict bike riding to bike paths and require children to wear helmets.
Similarly, IRBs can impose limits on research or prohibit studies that expose
subjects to excessive or likely significant risks. The changes in IRB responsi-
bility that I am suggesting would involve additional expertise, training, staff-
ing, and monitoring to provide the appropriate level of review and oversight.
The details of how these costs can be met goes beyond the scope of this dis-
cussion.
9. Conclusions
To the extent that my arguments in support of the decent proposal for the con-
duct of human subject research are persuasive, and to the extent that my re-
sponses to the expected objections of those who would find it immoral are
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
Preliminary work on this paper was presented as, “Rethinking Informed Con-
sent for Research,” first at the International Bioethics Retreat, Florence, Italy,
October 4, 1999, and a later, fuller version that was read at Davidson College,
November 5, 1999. A far more complex critique of current research regulation
appeared as “Rethinking Research Ethics” in American Journal of Bioethics. I
thank Matti Häyry, Joe Fitschen, Ian Holzman, and Jonathan Rhodes, as well
as the members of those audiences, for their comments and suggestions.
NOTES
RATIONALITY, MORALITY,
AND REPRODUCTION
1. Introduction
Not all children are accepted as they are by their parents. Although the ideal of
an unqualified, whole-hearted parental love is probably widely accepted in the
Western world, very few of us who have children can claim to consistently
fulfill this ideal in practice. Various qualities in our children may annoy us;
some of us wish to have children of a certain sex or with certain aptitudes,
such as talent for music or math. In these kinds of cases, having a child with a
“wrong” sex or “wrong” kind of aptitudes may be difficult to accept. Some
may even have difficulties of cultivating loving emotions toward their child
whom they find ugly or resembling someone they loathe.
Nowadays the highly advanced medicine can, to some extent, help par-
ents to fulfill their wishes regarding the qualities of their potential children. In
practice this means that prenatal diagnosis can provide parents with informa-
tion concerning the characteristics of their potential child, and on the basis of
this information, they may choose to terminate the pregnancy (i.e., selective
abortion). Prenatal diagnosis has probably in its part increased the mixed emo-
tions of many parents toward procreation and parenting; on the other hand they
may think that they should be willing to accept any kind of child they will get,
and be capable of loving him or her unconditionally. But then, if the parents
can avoid, with the help of medicine, the birth of a child with undesirable
characteristics, would not they be foolish not to seize the opportunity?
Ideas of parental duties, responsibilities and virtues have entered bio-
ethical discussions in connection with new reproductive technologies, espe-
cially when the aim is to prevent the birth of children with certain characteris-
tics. Apparently, there are two (possibly conflicting) discourses regarding par-
enthood and procreative autonomy. The official discourse among health care
professionals emphasizes parental autonomy, self-determination and respect
for privacy. Accordingly, people have the inalienable right to choose within
certain time limits, for example, what kind of children they are willing to bear.
On the other hand, in the Western culture parenthood is often seen to include
the kind of virtues and duties that limit parents’ choices; parents should com-
mit themselves to parenting in the way that children’s good comes always first.
This could be seen to imply that potential parents should be willing to commit
themselves to bearing and rearing children despite their characteristics.
Various philosophical arguments have been developed to support both of
the discourses mentioned above. Rosamond Rhodes, 1 for example, has argued
that a fetus’s right to life is based on the mother’s or both parents’ assent to
carry the pregnancy to term. According to this kind of assentist account, after
assenting to the continuation of a pregnancy, the parents have accepted the
responsibility to care for their offspring until it can be independent and able to
assume obligations as a moral agent. The commitment to caring for and nurtur-
ing a child is (during the early pregnancy) conditional for parents: the assent
given by the parents to care for a child applies only to the kind of child that
will be able to become a moral agent. A child incapable of developing into a
moral agent and living an independent life will become a lifelong burden to her
parents. Imposing this kind of obligation on parents is, according to Rhodes,
unreasonable. This being the case, the parents are morally justified in with-
drawing the fetus’s conditional right to life and withdrawing themselves from
the parental position on the grounds of the fetus’s impairment. They can, of
course, make “a new act” by committing themselves to caring for a child who
cannot become an independent moral agent. However, this kind of a renewed
commitment seems to be in Rhodes’s view more or less a supererogatory act.
Simo Vehmas has criticized Rhodes for being too permissive. 2 Vehmas
argues that a conscious decision to procreate is an act of assent to commit one-
self to the project of parenthood that includes certain responsibilities and obli-
gations. Also, true parental assent cannot be conditional in the sense that peo-
ple could commit themselves to parenting only a child of a certain kind, with
pre-defined qualities and aptitudes. This implies that parents ought to commit
themselves to caring unconditionally for any kind of child. Prospective parents
who have decided to procreate are morally parents and they should have an
unconditional attitude towards their prospective children in the same way as
parents should take towards their actual children. According to Vehmas, this
implies that selective abortion is prima facie morally wrong.
If one approaches the issue from a purely descriptive viewpoint, it is clear
that a lot of people do not consider parenthood as an unconditional position or
project. To many, impairment or gender is a proper reason to terminate preg-
nancy. These potential parents obviously do not think that they should accept
or love unconditionally their future child despite of its characteristics. The
general question directing the discussion in this paper is whether such parents
are right or wrong. More specifically, our interest is the content of parental
commitment and responsibility. We ask whether unconditional love for one’s
children is part of parental commitment and if it is, can it be posited as a paren-
tal duty? Finally we review a few possible implications that a positive answer
to the above questions would have for the discussion concerning the moral
justification of selective abortion.
To set a frame for the subsequent discussion, we will first briefly review assen-
tism as a form of a Kantian theory. In both Rhodes’ and Vehmas’ accounts
parental assent creates an obligation or a law to the parents for governing their
action. 3 “The law” referred to here is a moral prescription, a duty, that a parent
would accept when relying on her own pure reasoning. This means reasoning
purified of self-seeking interests that might make it unjust or prejudiced.
Clearly this is a Kantian model of arriving at moral judgments. The reasoning
of an autonomous person (in the Kantian sense of the term) is the grounding of
moral right and wrong. The issue, when it comes to the subject of this paper
then is, as Matti Häyry has noted in his discussion of Rhodes’ and Vehmas’
positions, what exactly would the (ideally) reasonable person agree to were she
to assents to the project of parenthood. 4 Good parenting is commonly thought
to require love for one’s children. But to answer the question of whether a ra-
tional person assenting to parenthood would also agree to love one’s children,
one would first have to answer the question whether it is possible to posit love
as a duty. Since the assentist position is Kantian in its nature, it seems sensible
to approach this question in the light of Kant’s account of love.
The usual criticism levelled at Kant’s moral theory is that it leaves very
little room for emotions. However, various scholars have demonstrated that
Kant actually assigned several important roles in his moral theory to emo-
tions. 5 Kant did, nevertheless, see (particularly in The Groundwork) a particu-
lar group of emotions, which he referred to as inclinations, mostly as a nui-
sance which any rational being should avoid. 6 Inclinations are “habitual sensi-
ble desires” 7 ; they are habitual, since the desire is associated with some object
or state of affairs that the agent seeks to bring about because of some antece-
dent pleasures associated with it. They are sensible or “empirical” desires be-
cause they exist independently of reasoning or reflection. 8 Thus, they are not a
matter of reason and active free will but, rather, the products of the passive and
deterministic part of human beings. Inclinations have no role in the estimation
of the moral worth of an agent, or his or her actions. In Kant’s theory, moral
worth is attributed to agents solely on the basis of being motivated by respect
for duty. Human dignity is grounded on the autonomy of practical reason
which is a faculty that enables human beings to legislate moral law for them-
selves. Respect for duty is the same as the recognition of the dignity of
autonomous personhood in oneself, and in others.
So, from a Kantian perspective, morally worthy parenthood would be re-
duced to acting according to one’s duty—and whatever the content of this duty
is, love as an inclination would not be a part of it. However, a strict
Kantian view of the moral essence of parenthood causes at least two problems
for a strong formulation of parental duties. First, neither fetuses nor newborn
infants are persons in the Kantian sense. This being the case, they do not be-
long to the moral realm, they cannot be respected and one cannot have moral
obligations towards them. Although this, in a sense, seems indisputable, it also
leads to uncomfortable conclusions. If a pregnant mother has no obligations
whatsoever to the fetus she carries, she would have no moral reason to restrain
from using excessive amounts of drugs or any other habits that may harm the
fetus. But it does seem that the mother has some sort of an obligation to con-
sider her future child’s well-being if she has decided to carry the pregnancy to
term. Secondly, duties of respect towards persons are in Kant’s theory negative
duties, which are supposed to limit our actions; particularly they oblige us
from injuring the dignity of other persons. However, this standpoint does not
oblige persons, in this case the parents, to actively further other persons’ (i.e.
their child’s) interests. But this seems counter-intuitive; surely parents are re-
quired to actively further their child’s well-being. It also seems that if they in-
tend to do this well, they should love their child. But does love have any place
in Kant’s moral theory and if it has, what does love mean within this theory?
Kant differentiates between two kinds of love, pathological and practical.
Pathological love is an inclination, a feeling of pleasure or delight in the per-
fection of another and a disposition to benefit her on the basis of this pleasure.
It is, in other words, a passive feeling. Since pathological love is “a matter of
feeling, not of willing, and I cannot love because I will to, still less because I
ought to (I cannot be constrained to love),” pathological love cannot be any-
body’s duty. So, as for pathological love, “a duty to love is an absurdity.” 9
Practical love, however, can be a duty. Practical love refers to a desire to bene-
fit another out of duty to act according to the maxim of benevolence. 10 When
the moral agent “loves practically,” she adopts the ends of another moral agent
as her own; she recognizes a duty to further the good and the ends of another
moral agent.
In sum, according to Kant we cannot (at least totally) control how and
what we feel. Therefore, we cannot be obligated to have certain feelings. But
since human beings are autonomous moral agents, they can be, and indeed are,
obligated to act according to certain duties, of which practical love is one.
Love in a moral sense, then, is not about feeling in a certain way but about act-
ing in a certain way. 11
Kant’s account of love raises some concerns as for the moral essence of
parenthood. Regardless of how love is defined, it seems intuitively clear that a
genuine love for one’s children should be an essential part of being a parent.
This intuition can be supported with the following considerations: (1) The se-
curity that parental love brings allows children to flourish and to trust. (2) Pa-
rental love protects children, during childhood, from loneliness and isolation.
(3) Whether or not parents love their children affects children’s ability later to
form and to maintain intimate relationships with others. (4) Parental love fos-
ters children’s developing self-respect. 12 Now, if it is true that parental love is
needed for children to obtain the kind of benefits pointed above, and if there is
a moral demand for parents to care to their best ability for the good of their
children who are utterly dependent on them, love is one crucial requirement of
parenting a child. And if this is the case, love ought to be a part of a moral the-
ory concerning parenthood.
If one leans on Kant’s theory, parents are obliged to act in a way which brings
about the benefits mentioned above. The crucial moral issue is how they act
toward their children, not what kinds of feelings they have for them. Now, it is
logically possible that parents could act toward their child as if they felt love
for her although, in fact, they do not. However this most probably would not
work in practice because people (including children) usually can tell whether
those near to them truly feel love for them or merely act as if they did. And to
recognize that one’s parents act out of duty in the way good parents should act,
but actually do not have any “emotional warmth toward and connectedness
with the child, genuine delight in the child herself,” 13 would probably be dev-
astating to any child. It is very difficult to feign the feeling of love. Without
heartfelt parental love children probably cannot feel loved by their parents.
Since parental love is valuable to children, parents should actually feel love for
their children. 14 In other words, parenthood seems to require, in Kantian terms,
pathological love, tender sympathy as an inclination. Such love cannot, how-
ever, be posited as a duty.
At this point, it should be pointed out what we mean by emotions. Emo-
tions have often been identified with feelings; they are visceral sensations that
people are often able to feel in their bodies. For example, we feel jealous or
angry; we can identify our emotional state by recognizing its physical symp-
toms (tightness in the stomach, rapid heart beat and so on). However, most
emotions are differentiated by our beliefs and evaluations, not by how we feel.
Our beliefs of what is, for instance, socially or morally appropriate, has a piv-
otal effect on our emotions. Because of this, we can often predict our feelings
associated with certain actions. In other words, most of us would infer that if
someone is caught stealing an acquaintance’s wallet, she would feel shame.
Thus, emotions are not just feelings, they include a cognitive component and
thus rational component as well. 15
Although Kant thinks that feelings cannot be willed and that therefore
there cannot be a duty to have certain feelings, he does not think that they are
totally beyond a person’s own control. Kant suggests (in The Metaphysics of
Morals) that moral agents have a duty to cultivate inclinations that enable them
to more fittingly follow the duty dictated by reason. 16 Feelings or affections
can be of help in motivating a person with the pursuit of fulfilling his or her
duty of practical love. In this sense, feelings can be seen as useful in the Kant-
ian framework, although they add nothing to the moral worth of fulfilling the
duty.
We are ready to accept that there is no duty to love but, at the same time,
we think that it is quite plausible to argue that people in certain positions have
a duty to try to cultivate certain emotions, and accordingly feelings, that are in
line with the demands of practical love. It is clear that people can, at least to
some extent, cultivate and control their emotions. Because of this, they are also
partly responsible for them. Cultivating one’s emotions is possible because of
the cognitive dimension related to them. By changing one’s evaluations of a
certain thing or person, one can often change one’s emotions about it as well.
This is not always easy, though. We are accustomed to react emotionally on
the basis of our personal histories. Emotions are thus habits, in a way, and hab-
its are not under our direct control. Habits are often deeply entrenched disposi-
tions so learning to control and cultivate them can be very tricky, but not nec-
essarily impossible. 17 However, since not all the factors affecting our emotions
are under our control, responsibility for the success of the effort to cultivate
one’s emotions cannot be posited.
LaFollette defines love as “a disposition to act lovingly, a disposition
which typically causes, or is associated with, loving feelings.” 18 If it is as-
sumed (like we assume) that love is a crucial disposition in a parental role and
if it is assumed that one can to some extent cultivate such a disposition and the
concomitant feelings, how is one to do that in practice? A rough answer could
go as what follows. We must learn to understand why we feel as we do in cer-
tain situations and with respect to certain people. Without an understanding of
one’s emotional processes, one does not have control over them. So, when we
know what and why we feel, we have the chance of altering the way we feel.
After that, “we can deliberately develop emotional capacities through choosing
to undertake activities typically associated with the capacities we want to en-
gender.” 19 Now, if a potential parent feels that she would not be capable of
loving a child with, say, Down syndrome, she could attempt to do the follow-
ing: First, the parent should try to understand why she actually finds it more
difficult to love a child with Down syndrome than without it. What does she
know about Down syndrome? Is her lore of Down syndrome based on appro-
priate knowledge or on mere stereotypes? Has she ever spent time with a child
with Down syndrome? Would her emotions and feelings about parenting a
child with a Down syndrome change if she actually spent time with such chil-
dren, considered them as unique individuals with interests and rights of their
own, and acted accordingly? Finally, she might want to ask what the idea of
good parenthood means to her: is it something conditional, something that de-
pends on the “normality” of the child?
4. Conclusion
Our aim in this chapter was to examine the contents of parental obligations in
procreative decision-making with a special reference to selective abortion. We
introduced two different assentist positions regarding parenthood and the rights
of fetuses. Common to both of these positions is a Kantian notion of duties that
parents assume towards their children. The positions differ in that whereas
Rhodes sees these duties as conditional, that is, the assumed duties do not ap-
ply if it turns out that the fetus is impaired, Vehmas has argued that the assum-
ing of parental duties should be unconditional from the moment that parents
NOTES
1. Introduction
Matti Häyry has suggested the term, “Prereproductive Stress Syndrome” for
infertile couples who find themselves in stress and turn to fertility technology
for a solution. The first researcher to identify and define a medical syndrome
often gets immortalized by having the syndrome called after his or her name. I
therefore suggest the term: Häyry Syndrome. In Matti’s opinion, when Häyry
Syndrome sufferers turn to fertility technology as a solution to their problem,
they “could be told that, according to at least one philosopher, it would be all
right for them not to reproduce at all.”1
Matti has a number of reasons for his opinion, including argumentation
based on some technical points in Professor Rawls’ philosophy. But I want to
cut through the technicalities and scholarly discussions. I want instead to get
directly to the heart of Matti’s opinion, which I believe is summed up in the
following statement in his essay:
In a response, Søren Holm commented: “Few now hold the belief that an en-
gagement with philosophy has strong therapeutic effects (even fewer when
they have met real life philosophers).”3 I share Søren’s doubts of the value of
quoting philosophers in clinical practice. Indeed I doubt that it is of much
value for philosophers to work as “clinical ethicists,” who may simply relieve
the medical staff of responsibility for ethical decisions. Calling in an ethicist is
an easy way to wash one’s hands. But philosophers do have a role as educa-
tors. Many philosophers teach in medical schools. Physicians and future physi-
cians can hear philosophers’ opinions, weigh them against other opinions, and
draw their own conclusions for clinical practice. It is for this reason that I think
that a discussion of Matti’s opinion may be of value not only for philosophical
entertainment, but also for clinical practice.
In spite of the fact, which I shall presently explain, that Matti does not
really believe that it is “wrong to bring about avoidable suffering,” I think that
the statement which I have just quoted expresses the heart of his opinion. And
that is the statement which I shall discuss.
Actually, I am quite sympathetic to Matti’s clinical conclusion that infer-
tile couples can be advised that “it would be all right for them not to reproduce
at all.” But I disagree with Matti’s reasons for his conclusion. I am, moreover,
a happy father of five and a grandfather of five. I am a loyal member of a soci-
ety where childbirth and large families are encouraged. I look forward to my
unmarried children getting married: the sooner the better. And I look forward
to all of my children having their own children: the more the better. But, for
reasons other than Matti’s, I agree that fertility technology is not necessarily
the best option for couples who are not fortunate enough to have children in
the natural way.
Incidentally, it is surprising that Matti, who believes that it is immoral to
have children, should make fertility technology the main issue in his paper.
Many, many more people have children through the traditional method. In-
deed, fertility technology seems to be restricted to a tiny affluent minority. The
issue of fertility technology may be statistically quite insignificant globally. I
am surprised that, instead of attacking fertility technology, Matti doesn’t make
an all-out attack against reproduction in general, perhaps by writing polemics
in favor of perpetual virginity. (Birth control would be out, because birth con-
trol can fail and Matti seems to oppose taking any risk, even statistically rather
small risks, of causing suffering.) But since Matti has chosen to discuss fertil-
ity technology, I’ll discuss it as well.
I’ll explain in section 2 of this chapter why it is clear that Matti does not
really believe what he says. This will lead, in section 3, to a discussion of the
meaning of suffering. Finally, in section 4, I’ll explain why I am sympathetic
to Matti’s clinical conclusion, even though I am all for having children.
Not long ago I showed Matti a paper which I had written. He suggested that I
submit it to a journal of which he is a sub-editor. At the same time he made
some suggestions for revisions. Dutifully, I carried out his suggestions. Not
writing or researching easily, I endured quite a bit of suffering as I toiled away
to re-research and re-write the paper. Finally I thought that the paper was good
enough for me to submit it proudly to Matti. But what did Matti do? He sent it
to readers, got their criticisms, and sent me a whole bunch of further requests
for revisions: thereby causing me even more suffering. In spite of all this tor-
ture, however, I thank Matti today. Of course he did the right thing to request
revisions. Of course he did the right thing to send the paper to referees and
then request more revisions. Matti’s editorial sadism lead, I trust, to a better
paper. And it lead to my learning quite a few things which I do not think I
could have learned without that suffering.
I am not saying that all suffering which editors cause can lead to learning
things. For example, when a publisher scorns academic and literary freedom
and (rather than simply asking for consistency) insists on arbitrary standards of
style and spelling, as well as linguistic adherence to a preconceived political
ideology, about the only lesson which one learns is to submit in future to other
publishers. But this rare example aside, I think that editorial sadism is usually
benign.
The reader will object that this kind of suffering barely deserves the name
of “suffering,” so minor it is, as compared to the horrid and intense suffering
which so many human beings have to endure. This is true, and the more horrid
forms of suffering will be discussed later. But there is an important bioethical
lesson to learn from even such a weak form of suffering. There is often a proc-
ess, a causal relationship—which utilitarians often ignore—between suffering
and good results.
Some excellent examples may be found in a book by the British physi-
cian, Sir George Pickering.4 According to Pickering, Charles Darwin, Florence
Nightingale and Mary Baker Eddy, among others, arrived at some of their
most fruitful ideas while suffering from illness. Pickering observes that there
may be a close connection between illness and creative thinking. Illness gives
one time to reflect. One is, hopefully, relieved of the burdens of daily business.
Illness provides an excellent excuse for neglecting tedious chores, and for
keeping guests and family members away, so that one can concentrate on crea-
tive work.
About fifteen years ago, I was driving my car home after spending the
day at a library in Jerusalem. In a suburb of Bethlehem, an Arab threw a stone
at me. The combined force of the stone and my speeding car smashed half of
my head. Unconscious, all of my weight was on the accelerator pedal and the
car sped ahead. Fortunately a soldier hitchhiker grabbed the steering wheel,
turned off the ignition, and guided the car to a safe stop, saving both of our
lives. I endured a rather memorable amount of suffering as a result of this ex-
perience. But my suffering had beneficial results. Besides the benefits to the
maxillo-facial surgeons, who gained valuable experience during the fourteen
hours they spent reassembling my head, I also gained from the event. The ex-
perience made me more tolerant and accepting. Although we have a war with
the stone thrower, and others like him, I do not hate them. They are doing what
they have to do, and I am doing what I have to do. It also gave me something
which some people would call faith, but which I would call a kind of meta-
physical calmness inside. It made me more fearless in dangerous circum-
People who survived the Nazi holocaust, or the American atomic bombings of
Hiroshima and Nagasaki, or whose children have been killed or permanently
maimed and crippled in recent terror attacks, may accuse me of obscenity for
daring to compare the victims of editorial sadism to the victims of real suffer-
ing. My own suffering from the head injury was infinitesimal as compared to
what these people have endured. Their accusation would be quite justified. I
gave the example of editorial sadism because it helps us to see that nobody, not
even Matti, can be totally against all suffering. But much more importantly,
editorial sadism gives us a simple way to understand the causal relationship
which may hold between suffering and benefit.
There are, however, three major differences between real suffering and
the suffering which is caused by editorial sadism or by my head injury. The
first is the enormity of the suffering which individuals may endure. The second
is the enormity of the numbers of people who may suffer in real suffering.
The third difference far surpasses our ability to make sense of human life.
While editorial sadism and injuries like my own can and often do result in
clear benefit, real suffering often seems to benefit nobody. A Hiroshima
housewife, who had nothing to do with the bombing of Pearl Harbor, was on
her way to buy groceries. Suddenly she was walking around with burning flesh
falling from her skeleton. For what? People suffer, are miserable, die, and that
is the end of it. But why should I make my weak attempts at eloquence when
Shakespeare’s Macbeth has said it all:
Religions say they have an answer: Suffering which we endure in this life may
sometimes be rewarded in this life. But when it isn’t, then its purpose is to pre-
pare us for another life, or at least for another state, or other states, of exis-
tence.
According to a Christian version of the religious answer, the suffering
which we endure in this life may be deducted from the account of the punish-
ments for our sins, which await us in the next life. The more we suffer now,
the less we’ll have to suffer in Hell or Purgatory.
Mystical Judaism (kabala) and Hinduism have a more sophisticated an-
swer which, to my mind, is easier to believe. I refer to the doctrine of reincar-
nation. Through suffering in each of many lives, we learn lessons: our souls
become “repaired” or purified. Eventually, after enough lives and enough les-
sons and repairs (maybe millions) our souls will be fit for a blessed, spiritual
state which requires no more incarnations.
Unlike mystical Judaism and Hinduism however, which see a meaning in
our suffering, Buddhism says that our suffering is meaningless, as is all human
life. But once one realizes the meaninglessness of life, one is freed from caring
about it, and one reaches the Buddha nature, the state of eternal enlightenment
in which no further incarnations are necessary. Macbeth and some existential-
ists resemble Buddhists to some extent, although they lack the state of eternal
enlightenment.
Can any of these doctrines be proved? In our private lives we may be-
lieve as we please. But as responsible university lecturers, we have a responsi-
bility to base our opinions upon evidence and/or logical deduction. Personally
I believe that I have had experiences in my life which only a doctrine of rein-
carnation seems to provide a theoretical framework for explaining them. But I
doubt that an account of such experiences would make much sense to anyone
who has not had similar ones. So I’ll leave them out of this paper. And I’ll as-
sume that none of these religious doctrines can be proved.
But the fact that they cannot be proved doesn’t make them false. Indeed,
there is neither adequate evidence to prove them, nor adequate evidence to
disprove them. Among the three positions—theism, atheism and agnosti-
cism—the only one which is “rational” in a philosophical or scientific sense is
agnosticism. Only agnosticism does not require a blind leap of faith. It takes a
great deal of faith to state with bold certitude that God or afterlives do not ex-
ist. How can anyone possibly know this? Some people think that they can
prove that God does not exist by arguing that an all-powerful, all-good God
could or would not create so much suffering. But Judaism does not teach that
God is all-good. Judaism teaches that we should bless God both for the good
and for the bad. So although this argument might work against the Christian
God, it doesn’t work against the God of Israel.
The fact is that we do not and cannot know anything at all about the
meaning of life, if it has a meaning, or about the meaning of suffering, if it has
a meaning.
But if we do not know what if any meaning suffering has, then we have
no grounds to draw philosophical conclusions from our ideas about it. And we
have, a fortiori, no grounds to draw conclusions for clinical medicine. Not
knowing what happens to people after death, we have no way to even guess
whether bringing these people into existence is a good thing or a bad thing. Of
course anyone who is born has a good chance of suffering. But we have no
way to tell whether or not this suffering will lead to greater goods for them.
So, in cases where our suffering does not lead to clear benefits in this life, we
have no foundations for either agreeing or for disagreeing with Matti’s opinion
that it is unethical to bring about avoidable suffering.
Sahin Aksoy based his disagreement with Matti on his opinion that: “life
and existence is always better than non-existence.”6 But we cannot know any-
thing about this subject either. “Non-existence” can either mean non-existence
in this world, or it can mean absolute non-existence. If the former is meant,
then we really have no way of knowing which is better. For if souls which are
not born into this world exist in some other world, we do not know whether
existence in that other world is a paradise or a hell or maybe even something
else which goes far beyond our powers of imagination and speech. But abso-
lute non-existence cannot enter into our consideration either because we have
no way of knowing whether souls which do not exist in this world exist in
some other world or absolutely don’t exist. There is, therefore, no way to know
whether Sahin’s opinion is true or false. So it is clinically irrelevant.
In a reply to Sahin, Matti has asked: “Who exactly is the absent someone
who is sentenced to non-existence; and who precisely is the unborn child
whose interests would be served by bringing her to birth? How can we attrib-
ute experiences and interests to beings who have not existed in the past, do not
exist now, and will possibly never exist in the future?”7
I assume that Matti’s rhetorical questions are not quite about unborn
children, who may exist in utero, but about children who have not yet been
conceived. But if Matti thinks that as-yet not conceived children do not exist in
any way, shape or form, I will not state dogmatically that Matti is wrong. I will
only state that it is dogmatic to take any stand on this issue. Maybe before we
were conceived we existed in other bodies; maybe we existed as unembodied
souls; maybe we existed in some form which we are incapable of conceiving;
and maybe Matti is right and we didn’t exist in any way, shape or form. All we
can say is that we do not know.
Indeed, assuming that it is likely that anyone who is born will endure
some suffering, we have no way of knowing whether or not this suffering
would be avoided by not causing this person to be born. The reason is that
some religious people would say that if we do not cause this soul to be born
now, it will likely be born at another time and in other circumstances. And we
have no way of predicting what its life would be like in the other time and cir-
cumstances.
Again, I am not saying that these religious views of life and suffering are
true. But I am saying that we should not ignore the possibility that they might
be true. I side with those people who—although not unaware of the likelihood
that any child born may have to endure some degree of suffering in the course
of a lifetime—proceed to have children in the calm optimism, that no matter
what suffering may await human beings, all will be well in the end. This calm
optimism, which is one of the benefits I received from my head injury, de-
scribed above, is too easily confused with what some religious people call
“faith.” But “faith” has too many connotations of uncritical, brainwashed reli-
gious fanaticisms of various kinds. So I prefer to talk not about faith but about
calm optimism instead.
dunes of that area into highly fertile agricultural land. Digging under the sur-
face of the sand, one could even see black streaks, signs of the beginnings of
organic soil created by the rotting roots of our previous crops. After we agreed
to give the Sinai to Egypt, however, and during the last few days before our
withdrawal, Bedouin tribesmen arrived on camels, herding huge flocks of
sheep and goats. They quickly devastated our remaining greenery, returning
the land once more to desert. But the fact remains that we have proved that
sterile deserts can be turned green. Handling shifting dune sand is not easy.8
But difficulties are not insurmountable. The earth has the agricultural potential
for much more population growth.
As I’ve also mentioned, however, I do not totally disagree with Matti’s
proposal that when Häyry Syndrome couples turn to fertility technology as a
solution to their problem, they could be told that it would be all right for them
not to reproduce at all. I would like to modify his proposal, however, and
would like to propose instead that various alternatives to fertility technology be
explained. One alternative is not reproducing, but adopting a baby instead.
Other alternatives are natural, traditional, non-technological ways in which an
infertile couple can have a baby. These will be explained presently.
I do not know how many people working in fertility clinics would be
willing to suggest alternatives. Entire medical professions and infrastructures
get built up over new technologies. It is hard to shake them once they exist.
But I do think it would be worthwhile if such couples could be persuaded to
think of other alternatives. I have three reasons for believing this.
In the first place, although many questions are being asked nowadays
about the ethics of high-tech fertility, intracytoplasmic sperm injection, human
reproductive cloning, and the like, these questions are coming too late. These
questions should have been asked when human artificial insemination was first
tried, because it was such a radical departure from the traditional way of mak-
ing babies. In most, although perhaps not all, societies, religion, legend and
culture have always assumed that we all have or have had fathers in the tradi-
tional sense of the word: a man who got one’s mother pregnant in the old way
of getting women pregnant. Freud and other psychoanalysts wrote about the
impact on our personalities of our relationship with the man who fathered us in
the traditional sense. What will be the personalities of people who do not have
fathers in this sense? What, moreover, is it like to be conceived in the imper-
sonal environment of laboratory equipment, as compared to the warm contact
of human bodies? I am not saying that fertility technology is detrimental to the
child. I am only saying that we do not know. I am very happy for friends and
neighbors who delight in their IVF children. But citing a few examples of
wonderful IVF children is inadequate evidence for medical science, which is
trying to become evidence-based. Most parents of IVF babies seem to disap-
pear with no researched follow-up being carried out. We need very long-term
longitudinal studies over very large populations. Some such studies have been
published. But it is too early to draw any general conclusions. In the meantime,
and with all due respect to my friends who have IVF children, and to my col-
leagues who work in IVF from a sincere desire to help people, I cannot be a
supporter of IVF.
In the second place, ancient societies have had other means of coping
with infertility. Here in Israel we have the Biblical example of Rachel and Ya-
akov (Jacob). As many readers will recall, Yaakov married two sisters, Leah
and Rachel. He and Leah had children. But Rachel was unable to get pregnant.
The Bible tells (in the King James Version):
And when Rachel saw that she bare Jacob no children, Rachel envied her
sister; and said unto Jacob, Give me children, or else I die. And Jacob’s
anger was kindled against Rachel: and he said, Am I in God’s stead, who
hath withheld from thee the fruit of the womb? And she said, Behold my
maid Bilhah, go in unto her; and she shall bear upon my knees that I may
also have children by her. And she gave him Bilhah her handmaid to
wife: and Jacob went in unto her. And Bilhah conceived, and bare Jacob a
son. (Genesis XXX, 1-5)
Later on, with the help of a herbal treatment, Rachel bore two children herself,
Yosef and Binyamin, dying during the second childbirth. But this is besides
our present point. Yaakov and Rachel are considered very holy people by Jews
and other Bible-believing peoples. When a couple’s infertility seems to be due
to a problem with the wife, Bible-believing religious leaders should urge them
to consider following the example of Yaakov and Leah and allowing the hus-
band to have babies through another woman, rather than turning to fertility
technology.
For cases where a couple’s infertility seems to be due to a problem with
the husband, the Japanese used to have a solution. In Ibaraki Prefecture not far
from Tokyo and near the science and university city of Tsukuba, there is a holy
mountain called Tsukuba-san (Mount Tsukuba). Tsukuba-san has two peaks
representing the male and female deities, Isanage and Isanami, who are said to
have created the islands of Japan. The mountain is connected with fertility in
Shinto belief, and one often sees there pairs of stones, one tall and thin and the
other low, round and with a crack: representing the male and the female. I once
visited a spot on Tsukuba-san where annual bacchanalian free-love festivals
were held from ancient times until they were stopped in the modern age. Peo-
ple would come from all over Japan for the festival. A Shinto priest told me:
“It was an excellent solution for infertile couples.”
Today, it would be hard to gain acceptance for this kind of solution
among many religions, especially those that accept the Bible, in which the
prohibition of sex with a married woman is very strong. Two of the Ten Com-
mandments relate to this prohibition. Religions, however, can be pretty ingen-
ious in time of need, and can sometimes find ways to get around divine prohi-
bitions. Perhaps the idea should be considered as an alternative to fertility
technology.
In the third place, I wonder how often adoption is seriously considered as
an alternative to fertility technology. War, disaster and disease have created so
many orphans in the world; it is a shame that more infertile couples are not
considering this solution. It is also a shame that so many resources are invested
in high-tech solutions rather than in building logistic and support infrastruc-
tures to make it easier to adopt babies from poor countries, war zones, and dis-
aster areas.
On the other hand, since my wife and I have been lucky with children, I
cannot judge those couples who insist upon having their own children through
fertility technology. I would not have the heart to argue with them. But I do
think that alternatives might be gently suggested.
NOTES
I will not here address the immorality argument, which turns on fundamentally
the same conceptions of formal argument and of causation, outcome, compari-
son between suffering and non-existence. The issue of the relationship be-
tween the rational and the moral is too complex to go into here. Here I am in-
terested in the questions of rationality raised by this argument.
Before we go any further, it is worth setting this argument into the con-
text of Matti Häyry’s previous work. One interpretation might go as follows:
in this paper (and in his reply to critics 3 ) he is simply drawing a logical con-
clusion from a previous paper 4 in which he argued that it is both irrational and
immoral to bear children who are at risk of perinatal infection by the mother
with HIV. In fact in this paper, he conflates the rational and the moral, as
(some) consequentialists often do. Here is what he says:
The normative starting point of this paper is simply that avoidable suffer-
ing should not be inflicted, by acts or omissions, on actual or prospective
individuals, unless even greater suffering can thereby be alleviated or
prevented. This is a position I share with many contemporary philoso-
phers of the consequentialist tradition. 5
In this earlier paper (first presented in 1995) he concentrates on the policy op-
tions for preventing, or reducing the number of, births of HIV positive babies,
taking it as given that to be born HIV positive is to be born harmed. He then
generalizes to other kinds of disorder, disease or disability:
I agree that it would be wrong to single out HIV carriers, and blame only
them for bringing suffering children into existence. I do not however,
wish to restrict my comments to them. Everybody who intentionally or
negligently allows avoidable suffering in reproductive matters is equally
guilty, be the source of suffering medical, social or hereditary. 6
The relevant difference between the argument in 1995 and the argument of
2004-5 is that in 1995 he was comparing the state of children born with HIV
with that of children born without (other things being equal), whereas in 2004-
5 he was comparing the state of children born with the state of non-existence
(if state it be). Notwithstanding the notorious difficulties involved in compar-
ing the state of existence with the (non-)state of non-existence, or in compar-
ing children born in different possible worlds with different characteristics, 7
many people would want to say that a child is harmed in some relatively com-
monsense terms if it is born HIV positive, and this could have been avoided.
As Matti Häyry says in his 2004 article:
The conclusion relies on the judgement that human lives can sometimes
be bad. Individuals who see their own lives as good, and assert that eve-
rybody else’s life must be similarly assessed have frequently challenged
this view. Many actual people believe, however, that they would have
been better off had they not been born. This is often the essence of
“wrongful life” charges on which individuals have sued their parents or
medical providers for damages. These legal claims may be controversial,
but it cannot be disputed that at least some of the people in question
genuinely see their lives as worse than non-existence. 8
there is, relative to these parents, a possible infant in comparison to whom this
actual infant is worse off. 9 This, if you like, is the “positive utilitarian” version
of what Matti Häyry is attempting in “negative utilitarian” guise in 1995 and in
2004-5. I must confess that I feel more comfortable, metaphysically, with the
positive utilitarian version of the argument, since we are comparing identifi-
able individuals and their measurable welfare, albeit across distinct logically
possible worlds, rather than individuals with non-individuals. 10 Nonetheless, I
do not feel that this is the interesting element in the argument here. Intuitively,
we do make such comparisons, although we may be wrong to do so; theoreti-
cally, there may be ways to reconstruct our intuitions appropriately in order to
make nearly equivalent comparisons. But the power of Matti Häyry’s argu-
ment lies with its claim to rationality rather than any more or less debatable
metaphysical or epistemological claims about the substantive matter of possi-
ble comparison. In this I think at least Bennett and Aksoy partially miss the
point.
Before we leave this question of negative or positive utilitarianism, it is
interesting to recall what Matti Häyry said about this issue in his major theo-
retical statement, Liberal Utilitarianism and Applied Ethics (1994):
Indeed, at this point he allows that “even granting that the removal of pain and
misery is more urgent than the promotion of positive happiness, it cannot be
denied that it is the latter that provides life with its ultimate value.” 13 This
qualification is surprising in the light of the position he reaches in 1999, in an
essay investigating the normative and axiological foundations of John Harris’s
work in applied ethics:
Here he admits that one can assume “that individuals can have a serious need
to have their own children”. Given that his own liberal utilitarianism has as an
axiom the following:
This is hardly surprising, but what is clear is that for Häyry although we may
be barred from compelling others to adopt this pain minimization strategy (of
non-reproduction) by this principle, we are fully entitled to talk them out of it.
Hence, in 1995, he argues that firm social disapproval is a legitimate tool of
persuasion to discourage HIV positive women from having children at signifi-
cant risk of HIV infection, and in 2004-5, he says:
I am fully aware that other people have different moral views on this and
other matters. I do not think moral considerations are universal, overrid-
ing commands, as some philosophers do. I think they are opinions which
I am entitled to express freely in private and in public, as I think other
people should be entitled to express their opinions. 16
While in 1999 there is an ambiguous note to his suggestion that voluntary ex-
tinction be “condoned”, as it is in the context of whether John Harris’s views
about the impermissibility of voluntary extinction are consistent with John
Harris’s negative utilitarian views (as Häyry sees them), by 2004 the ambigu-
ity has passed, and Häyry is advocating quite explicitly a voluntary extinction-
ist position. This seems to involve a retreat from his 1994 view that positive
pleasure was of legitimate interest to the utilitarian and analytically distinct
from the simple absence of pain or suffering. In retrospect, his admirably lib-
eral and humane, dare I say Enlightenment, version of utilitarianism of 1994
has now been fully driven out by a Schopenhauerian version of utilitarianism,
in which the only reason not to annihilate the human race (and other sentient
creatures) is that doing so coercively would create even more anguish, through
the violation of autonomy and the frustration of certain basic, if irrational,
needs.
Having set out Matti Häyry’s argument for the irrationality of procreation, I
have set it into the context of his work on utilitarianism and its applications. I
think grounding it in his previous work on “wrongful life” due to foreseeable
medical or genetic harms or wrongs to future people shows something of the
point of the argument, as well as illustrating its structure more perspicuously.
But of course the argument is a formal one, standing on its own feet, and al-
though this contextualising work may help orient the mind, we should perhaps
disregard it in evaluating the argument.
Other commentators have suggested two lines of attack. The first is to
dispute that the form of rationality Häyry has taken to be normative in decision
situations of this kind is in fact inapt to this sort of choice. 17 The second is to
dispute Häyry’s axiology. 18 According to the first line of attack, Häyry’s ap-
proach to rationality is no more or less than the precautionary principle,
which, it is argued, is not normative for rational choice and fails to be action-
guiding in any useful way.19 I find this entirely convincing. Although Häyry in
his 2005 paper 20 denies that he takes it to be the only criterion of rationality, it
is clear that sometimes 21 this is the criterion he is using to mount this argu-
ment. However, I don’t find this argument against what Frank Jackson calls
“decision-theoretic consequentialism” entirely conclusive, since something
structurally very like this kind of rationality is at work in many (most?) com-
monsense decisions and choices, and so if it fails in this kind of low risk (but
serious consequence?) situation, it is probably the axiology that is at fault,
rather than the criterion of normative formal rationality. 22 An alternative,
which I shall explore, would be to say that this kind of rationality is not ration-
ality tout court but only a specific model of rationality embedded within a
more general model. Häyry, in his reply to his critics 23 accepts this possibility,
without acknowledging that this means that failure to adhere to the require-
ments of this decision-theoretic rationality is not in itself irrationality tout
court.
Suppose, then, that we grant the possibility that decision-theoretic ration-
ality just is rationality tout court. Suppose further that we accept (pace Bennett
and Aksoy) Häyry’s axiology, and in particular his proposals for the compara-
bility of welfare between states of existence and inexistence of persons. And
suppose, finally, that we accept that within decision-theoretic rationality is
embedded (at least) classical first order propositional calculus, so that we are
allowed to draw standard inferences from combinations of propositions. Then
it does look as if we are committed to accepting Häyry’s argument for the irra-
tionality of procreation.
One way to block the argument, for those who accept his more obviously
persuasive argument that it would be wrong to expose a foetus to a serious risk
of HIV infection perinatally, would be to deny that existence (and any associ-
I believe that Häyry’s (apparent) extinctionism gives us a clue to the way out
here. On Häyry’s argument, we have a rational argument for suicide. Indeed, a
strong rational argument (since it seems to make suicide rationally required,
rather than only rationally permissible). For if “it would be irrational to choose
the course of action which can realistically lead to the worst possible out-
come”, this means that continuing to live is irrational. I have no reason to sup-
pose that tomorrow I will not be violently waylaid by gangsters or terrorists,
subjected to horrible violence and humiliation, and left to a life of self-loathing
and bodily agony. Continuing to live leaves this possibility perpetually open,
and the way the world is going appears to involve the probability of this out-
come rising.
It might be objected that my continuing to exist and procreation affect
different people. And so they do. But perhaps not in a morally important way.
If it is states of suffering with which we are concerned, it really doesn’t matter
who is in that state, and whether that state is a state of my future self, or of
some other future self. We are not here concerned directly with morality
(where we might distinguish between harming oneself and harming another)
but with rationality, and the principle of avoidance of the worst possible out-
come of decision-making, judged non-morally.
And yet I continue to live, and I hope so does Matti, for many years to
come, other things being equal.
To choose a course of action that can realistically lead to the worst possi-
ble outcome is irrational
To ) is to choose a course of action that can realistically lead to the
worst possible outcome
Therefore, to ) is irrational.
The very generality of this schema suggests that we are in trouble, since it is
hard to conceive of an action to specify ) which does not make good semantic
sense of the schema. As noted above, part of the problem may be with the se-
mantics of “realistically lead to the worst possible outcome.” Following on
from this thought, we might reasonably argue about whether to ascribe this
characteristic to actions is not really to pick out any morally relevant features
of the action (if we allow that any action can go wrong), and indeed need not
be the “privileged” description of the action in question. Indeed, we might say
that to say of an act that it can go wrong is merely to say that it is an act. It
seems at least superficially plausible that the capacity to misfire or generate
unintended consequences is a necessary feature of action per se. So concentra-
tion of this feature of actions does not pick out which actions are to be pre-
ferred or dispreferred.
This argument is attractive, but has all the advantages of “theft over hon-
est toil.” We do after all characterize some acts as reckless or negligent, and
hence more likely to misfire than actions which are not reckless or negligent.
Here all Häyry needs to show is that of the option set {procreate, don’t pro-
create}, procreate is more likely to misfire than don’t procreate. Note in pass-
ing that as a consistent utilitarian, Häyry’s theory of action includes a denial of
the act/omission distinction, so that the given option set is a set of actions
which are comparable, rather than the murkier comparison between acting and
not acting. What he does not deny, however, is the existence/non-existence
distinction, so that there is a genuine difference between continue to exist and
don’t continue to exist.
While I think there is some mileage in the semantic argument, I will not
pursue it here, as it takes us too deeply into the theory of action and the theory
of descriptions. 26 Another approach would be to argue that the no-procreation-
suicide-instead result is a reductio ad absurdum of the argument schema.
Thus, although we cannot show that the schema leads to a strict contradiction,
no “reasonable person” would accept in informal reasoning a set of premises
entailing such a conclusion. Were it not for the consistency of Häyry’s argu-
mentation over the past 10 years and the fact that he has published versions of
this argument several times, and rebuttals of criticisms of this argument, one
could even think that he intended the argument to be taken as a reductio. But I
think this unlikely. It is, however, clear that this reductio was foreseen in his
1994 thoughts on the problems of negative utilitarianism, even though since
1994 he has changed its mind about whether it is ad absurdum.
We might be somewhat more generous, and argue that there is in fact
nothing wrong with Häyry’s argument here, and that the validity of his argu-
ment scheme and apparent acceptability of his premises entails that the argu-
ment is sound. Thus, he (with our help) has established an antinomy of practi-
cal reason. This is, in its turn, a conclusion supporting a sort of absurdist ap-
proach to living and procreating. We can neither justify these activities, nor
their rejection. We simply choose, beyond reason. There may be a dialectical
argument which grounds a particular resolution of the antinomies, but there
will always be something fishy about this resolution.
So, our tour around Häyry’s arguments may lead us to the following con-
clusion:
have done enough to motivate the thought that if the sort of rationality with
which we are concerned in making decisions to procreate is practical reason,
then some of the theoretically rational arguments proposed by Häyry may be
misleading. It can, for instance, be rational in the present sense to weigh the
options concerning procreation and decide in its favor. It can, further, be the
case that factors like the desire to procreate, the desire to nurture and cherish a
child or children, and the desire to give of oneself in this particular way are not
simply reasons for action in the motivating sense (that agents’ decisions to
procreate can be explained by determining that these reasons are operative for
them) but also in the normative sense—that they are good reasons for action,
in that they are recognizable by the agent as giving sufficient reason to go on
with their procreative and family-founding projects, and can be shared by oth-
ers as such in judging the behavior of the would-be parents.
I think we should consider the giving of reasons for (not) having children in
Wittgensteinian terms: it may be that the question “why do you want to have
children” makes no sense, or, that if it does, the answer “because I want to” is,
as Wittgenstein said of some explanations, “where the spade turns.” This is not
to say that we cannot give further articulation to the reasons involved, if the
person we are talking to appears not to understand. But in a rather profound
sense, if this interlocutor keeps insisting on being given further grounds, or
denies that the descriptions of the kinds of interests and emotions motivating
one to want to procreate give accounts of reasons, then we are entitled to ask
whether they have understood what is being said. It is not required of this ac-
count that the interlocutor shares these reasons or takes them to be reasons
which should motivate him or her. But it is a requirement of mastery of the
conceptual resources of English that they can see them as reasons.
The practice of giving reasons in dialogue is complex. One kind of rea-
son-giving is contrastive: ordinarily in such a case we would do X, but we are
here going to do Y—here’s the reason. Outside a teaching situation, we would
ordinarily not give reasons for each and every performance we undertake. In
the case of procreation, the practice has changed from the expectation that rea-
sons be given for not procreating to expecting that reasons be given for procre-
ating. So be it. But let’s not imagine that the reasons we are given for procreat-
ing are not reasons at all. Nor that these reasons are irrational, and the choice
to act on them is, ipso facto, not irrational. To do that, adapting Wittgenstein a
little, would be to see what happens when logic goes on holiday.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This paper was written while the author was holder of an Australian Bicenten-
nial Fellowship at the Centre for Applied Philosophy and Public Ethics, Uni-
versity of Melbourne. The author thanks Mark Sheehan, Michael Parker, Rony
Duncan, Tuija Takala, and, especially, Leslie Cannold for comments and dis-
cussion of the arguments of this paper.
NOTES
21. Ibid., Häyry, “A Rational Cure for Prereproductive Stress Syndrome”; Matti
Häyry, “If You Must Make Babies, Then At Least Make the Best Babies You Can?”
Human Fertility, 7 (2004), pp. 105–112.
22. F. Jackson, “Decision-Theoretic Consequentialism and the Nearest and
Dearest Objection,” Ethics, 101 (1991), pp. 461–482; E. Stein, Without Good Reason:
The Rationality Debate in Philosophy and Cognitive Science (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1996).
23. Häyry, “The Rational Cure for Prereproductive Stress Syndrome Revisited.”
24. T. L. S. Sprigge, The Rational Foundations of Ethics (London: Routledge,
1987).
25. Cabaret Voltaire (1986) The Crackdown, All tracks composed by R Kirk and
S Mallinder (Virgin Records, catalogue number CVCD1, 1986), track 7.
26. Onora O’Neill, “Modern Moral Philosophy and the Problem of Relevant
Descriptions,” Modern Moral Philosophy, ed. A. O’Hear (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2004), pp. 301–316.
27. S. Smilansky, “Is There a Moral Obligation to Have Children,” Journal of
Applied Philosophy, 12 (1995), pp. 41-53; Häyry, “If You Must Make Babies, Then At
Least Make the Best Babies You Can?”; L. Cannold, “Do We Need a Normative
Account of the Decision to Parent?” International Journal of Applied Philosophy,
12:20 (2003), pp. 277–290; L. Cannold, What, No Baby? Why Women are Losing the
Freedom to Mother, and How They Can Get It Back (Fremantle, WA: Curtin
University Books, 2005).
28. Richard E. Ashcroft, “Hanging Around with Jackson: Consistency in Ethical
Argument and How to Avoid It,” A Life of Value: Essays for John Harris, eds. S.
Holm, M. Häyry and T. Takala (Amsterdam and New York: Rodopi, in press).
29. Broome, Weighing Lives, p. 37.
30. J. Broome, “Reason and motivation,” Aristotelian Society Supplementary
Volume LXXI (1997), pp. 131–146; J. Broome, “Reasons,” Reason and Value: Themes
from the Moral Philosophy of Joseph Raz, eds. R. J. Wallace, P. Pettit, S. Scheffler, and
M. Smith (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), pp. 28–55.
1. Introduction
Matti Häyry argues that not only is the choice to have children always an irra-
tional choice but it is necessarily an immoral choice. Thus, for Häyry “human
reproduction is fundamentally immoral.” 1
In this chapter I consider the arguments put forward by Häyry in order to
assess his claim that it is always wrong to reproduce. I will argue that even
though the choice to bring to birth a child is, on many levels, a highly irrational
and an invariably selfish choice this does not necessarily make our choices to
reproduce morally unacceptable. In fact I will argue that if we create a world
governed by the principles Häyry advocates, not only would we fail in his aim
to produce a world morally superior to our current world, but we would also
produce an inferior grey and joyless world where individual autonomy is com-
pletely disregarded.
2. Häyry’s Position
Häyry argues that the reason that it is irrational and immoral to choose to bring
to birth a child is that “having a child can always realistically lead to the worse
possible outcome, when the alternative is not having a child.” 2 Häyry argues
that when people consider having children they are faced with a choice be-
tween deciding not to have children and thus harming or benefitting no-one
(this, it is argued has a value of zero), or choosing to have children where this
life may be good or bad and thus the value of this choice can be negative, posi-
tive or zero 3 . Thus, Häyry argues, the only rational and moral course of action
is to avoid suffering where possible and thus to avoid reproduction as all re-
production involves a risk of suffering.
I wish to consider this argument in three stages. Firstly, I want to explore
the notion of whether existence can be seen as a good thing. Secondly, I will
consider whether it is irrational to reproduce and what relevance the rationality
or otherwise of this decision has on its morality. And finally I will consider
There are those who argue that individuals benefit from existence and as a re-
sult that we have a moral imperative to reproduce. For example, Aksoy claims
that life and existence is always better than non-existence. Therefore, it is irra-
tional and immoral to “sentence” someone to non-existence while you have the
chance to bring them into life and existence. 5 However, such a position is logi-
cally impossible to maintain.
The problem here is that no sense can be made of the claim that someone
is sentenced to non-existence. An entity that does not exist cannot be harmed
by any action or inaction. Thus, no-one exists to be harmed by not being
brought to into existence. Aksoy and others who argue that being brought into
existence is a benefit and non-existence a harm, argue this from the under-
standable point of view that they enjoy their lives and feel they have benefited
from their existence. However, as Benatar points out:
The fact that one enjoys one’s life does not make one’s existence better
than non-existence, because if one had not come into existence there
would have been nobody to have missed the joy of leading the life and so
the absence of joy would not be bad. 6
A. Selfish?
B. Harmful Existence?
The absence of pain is good, while the absence of pleasure is not neces-
sarily bad. This asymmetry between pain and pleasure suggests that non-
existence is preferable to coming into existence. There is always some
pain associated with existence, whereas non-existence involves an ab-
sence of pleasure that is not bad, because there is no existing person who
is being deprived. 8
C. Irrational?
I believe it would be irrational to choose the course of action that can re-
alistically lead to the worst possible outcome. And I believe that having a
child can always realistically lead to the worst possible outcome, when
the alternative is not to have a child. 9
There are two main problems with Häyry’s position on the irrationality of pro-
creation. Firstly, it is not clear that choosing to have a child is likely to lead to
the “worst possible outcome.” I will explain this later when considering more
generally the immorality of procreation. Secondly, the irrationality of choices
to procreate is important when it comes to the morality of reproduction but not
for the reasons Häyry puts forward.
As we have seen Häyry argues that the irrationality of choices to repro-
duce arise from the fact that these choices may “lead to the worst possible out-
come.” 10 However, this claim seems to have little to do with irrationality but is
more to do with the immorality of this choice. It may be foolish or irrational to
make a choice that may lead to the worst outcome but it is not the irrationality
of this choice that makes such a choice morally unacceptable. What makes the
choice morally unacceptable is if it is likely to lead to the worse possible out-
come.
Indeed Häyry accepts that the irrationality of a choice does not make that
choice immoral by saying: “My moral objections to having children are not
necessarily linked with my views on the irrationality of the practice. I do not
claim human reproduction is wrong, because it is irrational.” 11 As Häyry
agrees that the irrationality of a decision to reproduce is not what makes this
decision immoral then it seems difficult to understand why the irrationality of
human reproduction is such an issue for him. It is difficult to see why focusing
on the issue of irrationality rather than leaving it aside and merely talking
about the immorality of reproduction is anything but distracting and confusing.
However, there is a different sense in which the irrationality of choices to
reproduce is relevant to the morality of this issue. This sense is alluded to in
Häyry’s work but never addressed directly. He argues that:
It is the “less than fully autonomous” nature of the choice to reproduce that is
important here and that deserves exploration.
For most people planning to conceive and bring to birth children, this
choice is necessarily an irrational one on many levels. In most cases we choose
to bring to birth children based on unquantifiable and unpredictable ideas of
what they will bring to our lives and the lives of those around us. Even if we
choose to bring to birth children for more pragmatic reasons such as producing
children to continue the family business or provide for one’s old age, it is im-
possible to determine whether this goal will or is even likely to be achieved.
Interestingly, one of the most “rational” and perhaps one of the only unselfish
reasons that might be given to make a decision to bring to birth a child is one
that has created great controversy. The aim of producing a “savior child” using
pre-implantation diagnosis and in vitro fertilization techniques to be a com-
patible donor for an existing ill child, would seem to be one of very few cases
where the choice to create a new child could be viewed as a rational choice.
However, most of us create children either for no reason at all or in an attempt
to produce outcomes that can in no way be predicted or guaranteed.
I would go further and argue that not only is human reproduction irra-
tional on many levels but as a result the choice to reproduce in many cases
could not be deemed the authentic autonomous choice of the individual. To be
an autonomous or authentic choice to reproduce, this choice should be based
on appropriate and accurate information and not be influenced or coerced in
any way. As I have already discussed choices to reproduce are mostly based on
unquantifiable notions of what our child will be like and what parenting this
child will bring to our lives. Further, the desire to reproduce is influenced not
only by our biological and genetic make up but also by social conditioning. As
a result choices to reproduce are invariably not the sort of choices that would
stand up to scrutiny in terms of gauging their authenticity.
The reason why irrationality, in the sense of diminished autonomy, is im-
portant here is not because choices that are irrational or far from fully autono-
mous are necessarily immoral choices. We invariably act in ways that are irra-
tional and far from autonomous. In fact many of what are considered to be the
most valuable experiences in life e.g. love, sex, dancing, creating children, art,
recreational drug/alcohol use, etc. may have little or no rational justification
(especially based on Häyry’s interpretation of rational) but their irrationality or
the diminished autonomy they arise from does not render these activities nec-
essarily immoral. The irrationality or non-autonomous nature of these choices
is irrelevant to their immorality. What makes an action immoral is reliant on
other factors such as whether this action harms another.
However, while irrationality and diminished autonomy do not equate to
immorality, the authenticity of a decision is clearly morally relevant. It is gen-
erally accepted that respecting individual autonomy is a fundamental moral
principle that enables individuals to have control over their own lives. If we
accept this principle then we should not only do all we can to respect the
choices of individuals but also to enable these decisions to be as fully autono-
mous as possible. By this we mean that what we wish to enable the individual
to make is the best choice for himself based on relevant and accurate informa-
tion and without pressure or coercion.
Thus, if it is clear that choices to reproduce are “less than fully autono-
mous” then we should do everything possible to increase the autonomy of
these choices. Here I agree with Häyry that we should make sure the message
goes out that “it would be all right for [people] not to reproduce at all” 13 in
order to attempt to counter the social pressure to reproduce and attempt to
maximize the autonomy of those considering whether to reproduce by making
it clear that a decision not to reproduce is wholly acceptable on every level.
This is an important notion to stress as although we might take it for granted
that no-one should be made to choose to reproduce when they do not wish to,
as the general assumption is that people value child rearing, then pressure is
inevitably put on people in this way. It would be no bad thing to counsel indi-
viduals both for and against reproduction to allow them to make the choice that
is the right one for them and their circumstances. However, if part of this
counseling involves convincing individuals that reproducing is immoral this
would not only, in my view, be unacceptable practically, but also theoretically
and thus morally.
Let’s recap on the argument so far. At this point (apart from this minor detail
of the relevance of irrationality to immorality) it certainly may seem that
Häyry is on a winning streak. I have accepted that there is no moral imperative
to reproduce as all choices to reproduce (bar perhaps “savior siblings”) are
selfish as children are not born for their own sake. This fact is clear as it is
logically impossible to make a case for the idea that existence is a morally
preferable state to non-existence. I have also accepted that the choice to repro-
duce is irrational on many levels to the extent that it is difficult to be sure of
the authenticity of this choice. Therefore, if we choose to reproduce we a) do
not benefit the resultant child, b) have probably been coerced into this decision
on some level by our biology and society and c) are not likely to produce the
outcome we imagined when we were making our choice to reproduce as how it
will feel to be a parent and what our child will become cannot be foreseen.
From this it is clear that it should be made clear to people that not having chil-
dren is a viable and completely acceptable option.
However, what of those who even after being presented with these con-
clusions still wish to reproduce? While their reasons for wanting to procreate
are likely to be irrational on many levels and influenced by social and biologi-
cal conditioning, these desires are often among the most strongly held desires
people ever have. I will argue that to deny the expression of these reproductive
choices, is, at least in most cases, cruel and unjustified.
That all human beings suffer is a fact. Even those of us who feel our lives are a
huge blessing and value our existence enormously suffer at some point. We all
endure physical and emotional pain to some degree. Here Häyry appears to be
arguing that a life that contains any suffering is a life that should not have been
created, that is, it is an unworthwhile life, a life of negative value. Thus, the
argument is that because of the suffering inherent in existence it is always a
moral wrong to create new lives.
If Häyry was convinced of the strength of this argument he would be
committed to the conclusion that as all lives are unworthwhile lives, not only is
reproduction immoral but also that all continued human existence is immoral.
If all human lives are of negative value and unworthwhile then non-existence
is a clear benefit and surely the only right thing to do is to end all human exis-
tence as soon as possible. If Häyry really believes that the morally preferable
course of action is that which avoids suffering where this is possible then it
seems that, based on his analysis, he should be encouraging not only the
avoidance of human reproduction but the ending of existing human lives in-
cluding his own.
It may well be that Häyry accepts this aspect of his argument and agrees
that the world would be a better place if all humans ceased to exist. This, of
This leads us to Häyry’s second justification. Here he overturns his earlier jus-
tification and accepts that some lives, even though they contain suffering, may
have a positive value but claims that the risk of creating a life of negative value
renders any choice to reproduce immoral. The argument here is based on what
Häyry calls the “maximin strategy.” 22 He explains this strategy saying that
when we “do not know with any certainty what the outcomes of our action or
inaction will be” then “[r]easonable precaution dictates that we should not pick
out policies, or courses of action, which can realistically have disastrous con-
sequences.” 23 The argument is then that if reproduction can produce lives that
are so dominated by suffering that they have an overall negative value and we
cannot eliminate the risk of this happening then reproduction should be
avoided. In Häyry’s first argument all lives are deemed unworthwhile because
all existence creates unnecessary suffering. On this second view the only un-
worthwhile lives are those lives that have a negative value, lives that are not
valued by those who lead them because of the overwhelming suffering these
lives contain. Thus on this second view, the point here is not that reproduction
necessarily causes suffering as some lives may well be of positive value, but
that there is always the risk that reproduction will lead to the creation of lives
of negative value. On this view reproduction should be avoided to avoid the
risk of producing such unworthwhile and negative lives.
While these two possible justifications for Häyry’s conclusion that hu-
man reproduction is fundamentally immoral are quite different in their detail
and incompatible with each other they do appear to lead to the same conclu-
sion. This conclusion is the conclusion that as reproduction unavoidably cre-
ates unnecessary suffering (either to all those who exist or to a small minority
of those who exist depending on the argument taken), then we have good
moral reasons to refrain from reproducing.
sider the lengths people will go to attempt to have children: enduring risky,
unpleasant, stressful (and often expensive) fertility treatment or, more com-
monly, enduring pregnancy, childbirth and the emotional, practical and finan-
cial burdens of being a parent. Clearly we should not impose these burdens on
those who do not desire them and all efforts should be made to ensure this does
not happen, however, to persuade those who do have these very strongly held
desires to forgo them will cause enormous grief for a huge proportion of the
population.
In response to this Häyry would argue that while he is convinced on the
immorality of reproduction he does “not advocate direct counselling.” 25 He
argues that there is little point in reproaching individuals who are planning to
have children as “the prospect of suffering will probably not deter them” 26 and
thus, he argues, “the best strategy is to tolerate their immorality.” 27 He seems
to be arguing that while reproduction is fundamentally wrong we should not
try and persuade people against reproducing. This stance is problematic on two
levels. Firstly, Häyry does not seem consistent in his “live and let live” atti-
tude. While rejecting directive counseling he does suggest that the irrationality
and immorality of having children should become a legitimate part of guidance
given to those expressing a wish to have children. 28 It seems difficult to see
how informing prospective parents of the immorality of reproduction is non-
directive counseling that allows a completely free choice.
The second problem with Häyry position here is that if he really believes
that it is fundamentally morally wrong to reproduce then why would it be
wrong to reproach those planning to do so? If something is morally wrong then
surely it is our duty to try and prevent this moral wrong occurring?
At very least the logical conclusion to Häyry’s argument is that we
should try and persuade/encourage people not to reproduce and perhaps even
take steps to prevent them from doing so wherever possible. Certainly, on
Häyry’s view, fertility treatment should be withheld from all but a small hand-
ful of cases (cases where fertility treatment was used by the fertile in order to
prevent the birth of children with genetic disorders, rather than by the fertile to
create new lives that otherwise would not have been created).
Further, if we accept Häyry’s maximin strategy that “we should not pick
out policies, or courses of action, which can realistically have disastrous con-
sequences.” 29 not only should we avoid reproducing but we should avoid all
sorts of activities that, are hugely important to many of our lives. For instance,
what justification do we have for having any close personal relationships let
alone sexual or romantic relationships? These relationships always cause suf-
fering even if it is only the suffering of minor arguments or bereavement but
more often relationships are characterized by disastrous consequences caused
by betrayal and rejection. Based on Häyry’s reasoning it would seem to be not
only wholly irrational, but more importantly immoral, to enter into such rela-
tionships as this will cause unnecessary suffering that could be avoided by
avoiding these collaborations. In reply to this he might argue that the suffering
caused by avoiding close relationships would be such that while avoiding such
relationships might be morally preferable it would not be morally wrong to do
otherwise as suffering is caused by either action. However, this is equally ap-
plicable to reproduction. If we deny ourselves the expression of our deeply
held desires to reproduce this will cause a huge amount of suffering to a huge
number of individuals. Perhaps desires to reproduce or enter into close rela-
tionships are not rational desires due to the unnecessary suffering these choices
create and perhaps we might do better not to have these desires but as the hu-
man psyche does not work that way where does this leave us?
Faced with this problem we seem to have two very different options open to
us:
A. Häyry’s World
We could attempt to create a world along the lines that Häyry’s analysis sug-
gests we should. In this world we would be encouraged to refrain from any
behaviour that might have disastrous consequences and cause unnecessary suf-
fering. Thus, in this world reproduction would be discouraged as would any
kind of close relationships, dangerous sports, potentially harmful social activi-
ties (e.g. casual sex, alcohol use) etc.
B. Bennett’s World
Or we could create a world where human desires such as the desire to procre-
ate, have close relationships, etc. are supported but with the proviso that we
should attempt to prevent these desires causing serious harm to others. In the
realm of human reproduction this would mean discouraging individuals from
creating lives that are likely to be so dominated by suffering as to render them
unworthwhile. While it would be possible to counsel those thinking of repro-
ducing and even offering screening in order to help prevent the creation of
lives of negative value, it will be impossible to remove the risk of creating
these lives completely.
8. Conclusions
Häyry’s point in all this was to try to determine the morality of reproduction.
In doing so he makes a case for the moral superiority of a world where unnec-
essary suffering is avoided by refraining from reproducing. But which of these
two worlds described above (if either) is actually morally superior? In which
world is suffering avoided? Both worlds still cannot avoid the creation of un-
necessary suffering. In Bennett’s world this takes the form of the unavoidable
creation of some lives of negative value and other forms of suffering inherent
in human activities and relationships. In Häyry’s world the suffering created
takes the form of the frustration or condemnation of individual’s deeply held
desires for procreation, close relations and other potentially dangerous prac-
tices. However, while both worlds may still contain unnecessary suffering it
seems that if we consider human autonomy as important then Bennett’s world
has the moral edge. While Bennett’s world is flawed, respect for individual
autonomy is at the centre of its morality, encouraging individuals to follow
their desires. In Häyry’s world it seems that concern for the removal of suffer-
ing is not only unsuccessful, in that one kind of suffering is replaced by an-
other, but also it is placed high above any concern for respecting individual
autonomy. In this world individuals are encouraged not to follow their desires
regarding what they wish to do with their lives even though this oppressive
regime will not achieve its aim of reducing suffering.
In conclusion, while it may well be immoral to choose to bring to birth a
child that is likely to have a life of negative value, this does not make human
reproduction necessarily immoral. While we have no moral imperative to re-
produce, those who wish to do so do no wrong if they take reasonable steps to
attempt to ensure that any resulting child will have a life that they will value.
The fact that choices to reproduce are irrational on many levels is largely ir-
relevant to the morality of the issue. However, what does seem to be both a
rationally and morally compelling prescription is to allow individuals to make
choices that, while running the small risk of creating a life of negative value,
are very likely to increase the personal fulfillment and sense of autonomy of
those who make them.
NOTES
People decide to have children for a variety of reasons. One might decide to do
so in order to carry on the noble family line, or to have someone to look after
one when one has become elderly, or to have a sibling for existent children, or
because one believes that children bring joy to the world, or because one
doesn’t like the couple in the apartment below. Contrariwise, there are also
good reasons not to have children, for example one might decide not to have
children (or any more of them) because one cannot afford to do so, or because
one believes that the planet is already overpopulated.
In broad terms, competent adults have the right to reproduce and this
right is a negative right, a right of non-interference. In this regard, the freedom
to have children is similar to the freedom to choose one’s own religion, part-
ner, or the method by which to educate one’s children, for the right to repro-
duce serves to protect individual values and interests against the interests of
others or social utility. Thus although we might all believe that the decision by
Smith and Jones to have a sixth child is very poor one, indeed, given the fact
that neither of them is employed, and even an irrational one given their own
concerns about over-population, if there is a right to reproduce then we would
not be justified in attempting to restrict their actions on purely utilitarian or
paternalistic grounds.
However, the right to reproduce carries with it certain moral responsibili-
ties and we expect prospective parents to act in a way that can be reasonably
expected to benefit the future child. For example, we expect parents to partici-
pate in appropriate prenatal care and to avoid behaviors that will predictably
lead to birth defects. Our social policy in this matter extends to mandating (and
sometimes providing for) maternity leave, offering free prenatal care, issuing
warnings about alcohol consumption and tobacco use by pregnant women, 1
and more controversial legal attempts to enforce “good behavior” among low-
income pregnant women. 2,3 As Matti Häyry says, we expect prospective par-
ents to “make the best babies” they can but this expectation is not too demand-
ing: prospective parents are expected to be responsible, not saintly. 4
In some cases the responsible decision may be to refrain from having a
child or to terminate the pregnancy, for example, in those cases where there is
a considerable likelihood that the future child will be born with profound cog-
nitive and physical disability. Underlying such a judgment is the belief that the
life of a child, like that of an adult, is worthwhile only if it is not utterly con-
strained by pain and suffering; if the life is considered to be so constrained and
judged not to be worthwhile then, other things being equal, the life has nega-
tive value and, hence, death would be preferable.
This quality of life notion is, of course, widespread, and we frequently
appeal to this notion in our decisions to withhold or withdraw life-sustaining
treatment from children and adults and, more controversially, in our decisions
to assist death more directly. This quality of life notion applies equally to pre-
sent and future lives: if we believe that it would be irresponsible and, perhaps,
immoral to continue to provide life-sustaining treatment for an existent patient
whose life has negative value then, other things being equal, it would be
equally wrong to bring such a life into the world. One might object that the
interests of others, for example, the family, are important or that one can never
accurately predict the value of future lives, but similar objections could be
raised about the value of present lives. If this is correct, then in those cases
where we can reasonably expect that the future life will have negative value,
the morally appropriate decision may well be to refrain from having the child
or to terminate the pregnancy. Thus on this analysis if Smith and Jones are
both carriers for Huntington’s Chorea or Tay-Sachs disease, or if it is deter-
mined that the fetus will be profoundly disabled, then Smith and Jones would
not be acting responsibly if they decided to have the child. In other words, pro-
spective parents have a responsibility to refrain from having children if the
necessary, but not sufficient, condition of a worthwhile life is not met.
According to Matti Häyry this condition is never met and hence it is always
morally wrong and irrational to have children. 5 Häyry’s argument for this con-
clusion runs as follows. Other things being equal, a person acts rationally if
after careful deliberation he or she chooses the action that leads to the best out-
come, consistent with the person’s beliefs and values. An appropriate and fa-
miliar example of this notion is the maximin strategy whereby it is rational to
avoid the worst possible outcome. As far as prospective parents are concerned,
the worst outcome is for the future child to have a life of negative value, hence
prospective parents act rationally if they seek to avoid this outcome. If pro-
spective parents decide to have children there is a risk that the future child will
have a life of negative value (either at birth or as the result of injury later in
life), whereas if they decide not to have a child there is no risk that the future
child will have a life of negative value. Since the decision not to have children
cannot logically be better or worse for the future child, this decision has zero
value. In conclusion, if parents act rationally so as to avoid the worst outcome
they should decide not to have children.
Häyry’s argument can be summarized as follows:
P1. It is rational to avoid the possible negative outcome when the alterna-
tive outcome has neutral or zero value.
P2. A decision not to have children has the value of zero in terms of the
potential future individuals and their lives.
P3. A decision to have children has a possible negative value
C. It is rational, therefore, to choose not to have children.
Is Häyry’s conclusion the correct one? I believe that there are a number of
considerations that suggest otherwise. Let us begin by looking at the first
premise of Häyry’s argument and the claim that it is rational to avoid the pos-
sible negative outcome when the alternative outcome has a neutral or zero
value. If the choice facing me is between a negative outcome or a neutral out-
come, then, other things being equal, it makes little sense to choose the nega-
tive one. Hence we would agree with Häyry that it would be rational to choose
the neutral outcome. For example, if I know that Angry Ferret is running in the
3:30 at Kempton Park and will certainly fail to finish, then it would be irra-
tional and foolhardy of me to bet £50 on the horse to win. In such a case the
best possible outcome is avoidance of the worst possible outcome—the best I
can do is not to lose my money.
the basis of goals, probability and degree of harm and benefit. In this regard,
the possibility that a choice might have a negative outcome, even a catastro-
phic one, is not sufficient to determine that this choice is rational. Consider, for
example, the parents of child with leukemia who have to decide whether to
enroll the child in an experimental gene therapy trial. Let us suppose that if
they decide not to participate it is predicted that the child will die within six
months, whereas if they do participate there is the chance that the child will die
within two months or live for another three years. What should the parents de-
cide? If their decision is to be rational it seems clear that the parents would
need to take into account the present and expected quality of life of the child,
the nature of the treatment and the probabilities involved. If the probability of
the child dying within six months is 90% and the chance of living for another
three years is 10% then the parents may well decide not to enroll in the clinical
trial, but if the odds are reversed then this may be sufficient for the parents to
decide to participate.
If one frames the decision to have children in terms of a choice between
facing the worst possible outcome and avoiding the worst possible outcome,
between a negative and a neutral value, then it is clear that we should decide to
avoid the worst possible outcome. But is this approach rational? If I am cook-
ing soup for dinner and am worried that it might be cold by the time we sit
down to eat, then one way to prevent this negative outcome is simply not to
make any soup. Similarly, if I am worried by the possibility of electrocution
when I change the light-bulb I could decide to always work by candlelight. In a
myriad of cases like these we can avoid a negative outcome by deciding not to
participate in a particular course of action, and in the same vein prospective
parents can avoid creating a life of negative value by deciding not to have
child. But this type of reasoning borders on the fallacious, specifically a false
disjunction, for the choice presented is restricted to that between inaction or
catastrophe, between no supper or cold soup. But in each of these cases catas-
trophe can be avoided by an outcome that is not merely neutral but positive—I
could keep the soup warm or be careful when changing the light-bulb.
4. Wrongful Life
I wish now to turn to the second premise of Häyry’s argument and the claim
that a decision not to have children has the value of zero in terms of the poten-
tial future individuals and their lives. If one accepts the claim that some future
lives have negative value then, prima facie, it sounds legitimate to say that it
would better for the child not to be born; nevertheless, I think that this way of
speaking confuses the matter. A decision to have a future child determines
whether or not a child will exist at all. If the decision is made not to have a
child then one cannot claim that this decision is somehow “better” for the fu-
ture child than the decision to have the child. For the decision to have the child
or not determines whether there is a future child whose life can be subject of
benefit or harm. In other words, we can only include considerations about what
is better or worse for the child once there is child.
Häyry makes the following claim with regard to the decision to have a
child, “The value of this choice, in terms of potential future individuals and
their lives, is zero.” 6 In one sense this is logically true: if one decides not to
have children, then there is no future child. Hence this decision has no value
for the non-existent future child. Nevertheless, Häyry’s conclusion that repro-
duction is irrational and immoral rests on a comparison between a wrongful
life of negative value and this non-existent future life of zero value, and this
comparison is made implicitly in terms of harms to the future child. (If this is
not the case and the comparison is in terms of some other factor, what is it?) In
other words, despite the fact that a future life cannot logically have value it is
seen as superior in comparison to a wrongful life.
One can argue that the Nash’s actions were rational in the sense that pre-
implantation genetic diagnosis is predictable, increases probabilities and in this
case was consistent with their goals and values. Furthermore, their actions
were moral in deontological and utilitarian terms on the grounds that it could
be argued that the parents were acting dutifully, and that the overall welfare
was increased—there are now four happy, healthy lives when there could have
been only two.
Perhaps Häyry would regard the Nash case as exceptional since in the
normal course of events one child does not have the opportunity or capability
to save a sibling’s life in such a direct way. The problem with this response is
it assumes the very point that Häyry denies, namely that we are able to predict
what future harms will occur. (Recall that Häyry argues that any future life
could be of negative value and hence it is irrational and immoral to have chil-
dren). As genetic testing, therapy, and pre-implantation genetic diagnosis in-
creases, one might contend that it will become more likely that future children
will be able to offer such significant benefits to their older siblings. If this is
correct, then perhaps it will become even more rational and moral to have
children. Alternatively, Häyry might respond that such utilitarian considera-
tions should never outweigh the possibility of a future life of negative quality.
In reply, one can repeat the point that probabilities matter.
Contrary to Matti Häyry, I think that it is sometimes irrational and im-
moral to have children rather than always so. I agree with Häyry that any fu-
ture life can have negative value and that we can prevent this happening by
deciding not to have children. But I disagree with Häyry’s conclusion that the
decision to have children is, therefore, irrational and immoral. In those cases
where it can be reasonably predicted that the life of the child will have nega-
tive value, then Häyry may be correct; but in those case where there is no basis
for such a prediction, or where we believe that the life will have positive value,
then the decision to have children is morally and rationally defensible.
NOTES
PHILOSOPHICAL RESPONSES
TO ENHANCEMENTS
DO WE HAVE AN OBLIGATION
TO MAKE SMARTER BABIES?
Lisa Bortolotti
1. Introduction
the motivation people have to reproduce might be more or less morally accept-
able, but once the decision to reproduce is made, no further harm can come
from enhancing the (future) child’s capacities.
In this chapter I defend the view that we have moral reasons to enhance. The
basis for my defense of enhancements is the principle of beneficence, accord-
ing to which people have a moral obligation to prevent harm and to confer
benefits when it is possible. But the presence of moral reasons to enhance does
not imply that people have any moral obligation to use any specific enhance-
ment strategy in conferring benefits to their (future) children. An “enhancing
strategy” is any activity that aims at preventing harm and conferring benefit.
On this account, organizing music instruction for one’s children when they are
aged 3-9 is an enhancing strategy, if it is true that there is a correlation be-
tween music instruction in young children and increased spatio-temporal and
mathematical abilities. 2
There is a gulf between recognizing moral reasons to enhance and argu-
ing that we should be morally obliged to adopt one specific enhancing strategy
in reproduction or parenting. And that is why the debate on enhancements can-
not be exhausted by an appeal to beneficence and the harm-benefit continuum.
There are pressing questions that must be raised and answered. How powerful
are the moral reasons we have for enhancing? Are there any moral reasons
against enhancing as such? What are the risks and costs involved in enhanc-
ing? Are there any moral reasons against any specific enhancing strategies?
For instance, Häyry 3 discusses one objection to embryo selection in assisted
reproduction as enhancing strategy. The process necessary for assisted repro-
duction might place an unnecessary burden on women, who would be required
to go through extensive testing and potentially distressful or painful proce-
dures. All these considerations must be taken into account in our decision-
making and only those measures that seem to have reasonable costs should be
adopted in order to enhance.
A. Disability
C. Changing Society
But before let me go back for a second to the moral justification of enhance-
ments in reproduction and parenting. Some might feel that, although there are
moral reasons to confer benefits, adopting enhancing strategies to do so is not
the best available course of action, as it precludes other, less controversial,
ways of doing it. For instance, Häyry 8 presents the promotion of social
changes as an alternative to enhancement if one wants to improve the life of
one’s (future) children. But I cannot see how changing society and improving
conditions in an individual would ever be mutually exclusive or even compet-
ing courses of action. If I have a child who is cognitively impaired, I might
want to act on the surrounding social environment with the hope that, as a con-
sequence, he will be better accepted by his peers and that he will receive more
support from his teachers, but my commitment to changing society for the bet-
ter is not incompatible with reducing the harm that the disability is causing to
my child by intervening on his disabling condition. Similarly, in the case of a
prenatal test revealing that my future child will have such a disability, I might
want to take measures to prevent or reduce its potential effects on him and at
the same time strengthen my commitment to creating a fairer world around
him. In the circumstances in which the disability is so serious that parents
come to believe that their future child will not have a life worth living, they
might decide to terminate the pregnancy. But even in these extreme circum-
stances, it is not clear to me that they are confronted with a choice between
changing society or changing the individual, or that they are sending any nega-
tive messages to other parents in similar circumstances who have taken a dif-
ferent course of action.
A. Safety
In the bioethical literature, the press, and even in recent cinematography, en-
hancements are viewed with great suspicion. First, there are concerns about the
safety of the procedures involved. Second, there are worries about the limited
amount of knowledge even experts have about the consequences of, say, ge-
netic engineering in cognitive domains. In Daniels (2005) we find an interest-
ing example. 9 Suppose that we learn that an enhancement of short-term mem-
ory would benefit many of our cognitive processes and that we have the oppor-
tunity to enhance short-term memory by operating on embryos. Daniels argues
that we should not do it because we would not be able to predict the conse-
quences of enhancing memory performance. Daniels’ concern is that en-
hancements might not really improve the quality of life. He is not just reiterat-
ing the idea that there are always risks involved in changing something that is
working well enough. He is saying that, given the nature of certain modifica-
tions and the complex way in which we would need to assess their conse-
quences, the fact that the capacity or trait to be enhanced is a necessary condi-
tion for better performance does not mean that by enhancing it we would pro-
duce an overall better offspring. Another example of this phenomenon is the
study that has been conducted at the University of Pennsylvania on mice. Mice
which had been genetically engineered to improve their memory and learning
were then shown to be unusually sensitive to pain. 10
Safety concerns should definitely be taken into account, and it is reason-
able to assume that a careful risk/benefit analysis would not recommend many
procedures that aim at enhancing complex cognitive functions at this stage.
This fact, though, does not seem relevant to deeming enhancements per se un-
ethical. What would be unethical is to risk people’s health by enhancing their
cognitive performance if the foreseen benefit is not worth the risk. Of course,
separate issues are whether we can obtain non-biased information about safety,
how the risk/benefit ratio should be calculated and by whom. It is a platitude
that the perception of risk might vary and that some people might value the
achievements made possible by enhanced conditions more than others. It is
reported that many athletes would take a drug that would enable them to win
every competition for a few years, even if the drug shortened their life signifi-
cantly. 11
B. Limited Resources
Safety aside, some people are worried about unfair allocation of resources. It is
a common thought that some enhancing strategies such as genetic engineering
are going to be very expensive and that only the better-off in society will be
able to afford them. As a consequence, the current divisions in society will
become even less bridgeable. Notice that this is not an ethical objection to en-
hancing as such, but a concern about the unfair distribution of resources. Actu-
ally, the worry about the ways in which enhancements will be distributed im-
plies that enhancements are perceived as a good thing. The problem of re-
source allocation is an extremely urgent one, but it is not specific to cognitive
enhancement in any interesting way. For all the available resources which can
be seen as beneficial to humans (e.g. food, education, therapies etc.), there is
an unfair distribution in society. If cognitive enhancements are going to be a
further available resource, the problem of access would apply to them too.
Mehlman suggests a way in which some fair access could be promoted:
C. Diminished Agency
Finally, some believe that the practice of enhancing and genetically engineer-
ing capacities will lead to a revision of our conception of agency. 13 Agents
typically enjoy a certain amount of freedom of action and are subject to judg-
ments of praise for their achievements and of blame for their failures. But if
the physical or intellectual achievement of the agent is only marginally due to
effort and discipline and mainly due to the effects of, say, a powerful drug, the
achievement might no longer be a good reason to admire the agent. The argu-
ment is supposed to show that a pervasive use of enhancement might lead to a
diminished sense of agency and responsibility.
To assess the force of this argument one needs to be able to account for
what the consequences of the practice of enhancement would really be for our
conception of agency. Partly, this is an empirical question. We know what our
current psychological reactions to illicit drug-taking by athletes are; we feel it
is cheating. But the scenario in which everybody is given an opportunity to
enhance some of their conditions safely is significantly different and our reac-
tions would almost certainly reflect that difference. It is not at all obvious that
we would lose the sense of ownership of our own actions if the capacities that
made it possible for us to achieve something desirable had been enhanced. One
possible consequence of pervasive enhancement could be a “raising the bar”
effect that would subtract little to the merits of the personal achievements of
the individual.
That said, it seems as if the diminished agency objection is on to some-
thing. Suppose you are a runner and want to increase your speed by 20%. Also
suppose that there are two methods by which you can achieve this target. You
can take a pill that has an immediate enhancing effect on your speed or you
can train for two months, three hours a day. Notice that these are both enhanc-
ing strategies if we define enhancements on the basis of their predicted out-
comes. Now, you might have a morally relevant reason to prefer the hard way
to the easy way. You might value self-discipline and think that you will grow
as a person if you achieve this target by making a conscious effort to perfect
your body during the next two months. You might believe that the sense of
satisfaction you would get at the end of the training for having achieved the
target is worth the time and the effort that are required. But all these considera-
tions do not amount to judging that it would be unethical for you to choose the
easy option.
An analogous case can present itself when we are considering the ethics
of enhancing cognitive capacities or cognitive performance in the context of
reproductive choices. To give a child the opportunity to learn how to play a
4. Commodification of Children
Häyry (2004) reviews the reasons why people make a conscious decision to
have babies in spite of the obvious fact that the future persons they generate
might suffer in the course of their lives. The assessment of the reasons for re-
producing is not the main concern of this paper, but I need to address another
common ethical objection to enhancing in reproduction, the so-called com-
modification of children, and the rationality of reproduction and commodifica-
tion are importantly related issues. One of the most popular objections to en-
hancing one’s children’s cognitive capacities is that it encourages parents to
conceive of their children as commodities, as objects that have a value not in
themselves but as means to achieve something else. Why do people want
trendier clothes, cars or mobile phones? Because their aesthetic properties re-
flect on the image of the person who owns them. One might argue that to want
a smarter child is an instance of the same kind of behavior. Parents, actual or
prospective, might regard their children as a means to achieve status, as some-
thing to boast about, and not as persons whose life is valuable in itself.
My view is that, once one makes the important decision to have children,
there are moral reasons to do whatever is in one’s power to make sure that
one’s children will have a happy life. This might include enhancing their cog-
nitive abilities by methods that one finds acceptable given their risks and costs.
Obviously, there are many things one cannot have control over and one can
never have any certainty that one’s children will be happy people. This is pre-
sumably why Häyry concludes that it is irrational to reproduce. But to claim
that there are moral reasons to enhance is not sufficient to dismiss the com-
modification objection. The way in which parents conceive of their children
has moral relevance and should be discussed, but not just in relation to en-
5. Conclusion
In this chapter I have argued that people have moral reasons to enhance the
cognitive performance of their children on the basis of the principle of benefi-
cence and subject to an evaluation of the risks and costs of the chosen enhanc-
ing strategies. To further support my argument, I have defended three claims:
(1) the practice of enhancement does not rule out the attempt to better one’s
children’s life by changing society and in particular by eliminating prejudice
against diversity; (2) the objections to enhancement that concern safety, alloca-
tion of resources and diminished agency do not seem to offer moral reasons
against enhancements per se; (3) the common thought that enhancing might
promote a view of children as commodities seems confused. The commodifi-
cation of children is a social phenomenon of which enhancement can be a
manifestation, but which has its roots in the morally dubious reasons people
might have to reproduce and which can manifest itself in numerous other
ways.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
NOTES
1. Matti Häyry, “If You Must Make Babies, Then At Least Make the Best Babies
You Can?” Human Fertility, 7:2 (2004), pp. 105–112.
2. Lois Hetland, “Learning to Make Music Enhances Spatial Reasoning,” Journal
of Aesthetic Education, 34 (2000), 179–238; Amy Graziano, Matthew Peterson and
Gordon Shaw, “Enhanced Learning of Proportional Math Through Music Training and
Spatio-Temporal Training,” Neurological Research 21:2 (1999), 139–152.
3. Häyry, “If You Must Make Babies, Then At Least Make the Best Babies You
Can?” p. 111.
4. Lisa Bortolotti and John Harris, “Disability, Enhancement and the Harm-
Benefit Continuum,” Freedom and Responsibility in Reproductive Choice, eds. J.
Spencer and A. Pedain (Oxford and Oregon: Hart Publishing, 2006), pp. 31–49.
5. John Harris, “One Principle and Three Fallacies of Disability Studies,” Journal
of Medical Ethics, 27 (2001), pp. 383–387, p. 386.
6. Jonathan Glover, Causing Death and Saving Lives (New York: Penguin, 1977).
John Harris, Violence and Responsibility (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1980).
7. Anjan Chatterjee, “Cosmetic Neurology: The Controversy Over Enhancing
Movement, Mentation and Mood,” Neurology, 63 (2004), pp. 968–974, p. 969. Max-
well Mehlman, “Cognition-Enhancing Drugs,” The Millbank Quarterly, 82:3 (2004),
pp. 483–506, p. 484.
8. Häyry, “If You Must Make Babies, Then At Least Make the Best Babies You
Can?” pp. 109–111.
9. Norman Daniels, “Can Anyone Really Be Talking About Ethically Modifying
Human Nature?” The Enhancement of Human Beings, eds. Julian Savulescu and Nick
Bostrom (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005).
10. Ya-Ping Tang, Eiji Shimizu et al., “Genetic Enhancement of Learning and
Memory in Mice,” Nature, 401 (1999), pp. 63–69; Ya-Ping Tang, Eiji Shimizu et al.,
“Do ‘Smart’ Mice Feel More Pain or Are They Just Better Learners?” Nature Neuro-
science, 4:5 (2001), pp. 453–454.
11. Mehlman, “Cognition-Enhancing Drugs”, p. 487.
12. Ibid., p. 499.
13. Michael Sandel, What’s wrong with enhancement, Council of Bioethics,
http://www.bioethics.gov.background.sandelpaper.html (2002).
YOUTHFUL LOOKS
—NO MATTER WHAT IT COSTS?
Heta Aleksandra Gylling
“How sad it is!” murmured Dorian Gray with his eyes still fixed upon his
own portrait. “How sad it is! I shall grow old, and horrible, and dreadful.
But this picture will remain always young. It will never be older than this
particular day of June …. If it were only the other way! If it were I who
was to be always young, and the picture that was to grow old! For that—
for that—I would give everything!” (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian
Gray.)
1. Introduction
also by offering a possibility to try to satisfy human vanity. Plastic surgery has
turned out to be an efficient tool in sculpting our features and figures to desired
proportions and forms. The improvement of surgical techniques and various
implants has enabled plastic surgery to rise from a medical branch which tried
to save and cure suffering patients to a lucrative client-oriented business, mar-
keted as unproblematically as new haircuts or artificial nails. First it cast its
spell on women, but now an increasing number of men have found its prom-
ises rather tempting. Especially the rich American woman in vogue seems to
be compelled to visit her plastic surgeon at regular intervals if she is not will-
ing to relapse into an unkempt and sloppy existence which could easily cost
her her job and social status. Even if excessive eagerness to maintain youthful
looks is frowned upon, even ridiculed, the fact remains that the advances made
in cosmetic surgery make it a tempting alternative to a growing number of
people in affluent Western or Westernized societies.
But what lies behind this increasing urge to have oneself cut and stretched for
often a heavy price? There is plenty of evidence showing that even those who
seem to be satisfied with the end result seem to have suffered more than they
expected. Even if the operation itself can be performed rather painlessly, the
pains, the discomfort and length of the healing period have taken many by sur-
prise. And even if the techniques have improved and knowledge about poten-
tial risks has increased, some operations still fall short of success. They may
turn out badly either aesthetically or medically, causing serious and permanent
health problems to their victims. Why then would anybody want to engage in
these activities? Is it a reflection of lost confidence in our inner worth, a sign
of twisted values somehow typical of our age and therefore something that
should be strongly disapproved or morally condemned? Or is it unnatural in
the sense that it would be justifiable to maintain that willingness to risk major
cosmetic surgery is a sure sign of diminished rationality, which allows pater-
nalistic interference? Or should we stoically accept the fact that our vanity
needs its outlet and admit that accusing people of being irrational or imprudent
may mean different things, ranging from genuine mental incompetence or dis-
order to mild differences of opinion.
The most elementary form of rationality usually requires that a person’s
beliefs and preferences form a more or less consistent whole and that she is
capable of understanding the potential consequences of her actions. And even
if we don’t agree, we may see the logic in someone’s wish to have her mouth
reshaped or his pate planted with hair. But if somebody tries to argue that his
life would be a thousand times better if his healthy, working legs were ampu-
tated, we might well be justified in saying that his rationality or sanity, i.e. his
competence for autonomous decision-making is seriously flawed. We know
that legs fulfill a function of moving which is an essential part of our idea of
being human, which in itself does not mean that those confined to wheelchairs
would somehow lose their human value when losing the ability to walk. A cer-
tain functionality is in our interest in the sense that cutting off a nose is not
comparable to rhinoplasty. No matter what the shape of the nose, as long as it
exists it is useful for sneezing. Surely it cannot be accepted that people have
unlimited freedom to butt into each other’s affairs whenever they see behavior
they personally dislike. On the other hand, if serious harm might befall a per-
son because he is not capable of sufficiently autonomous decision-making,
then paternalism may be acceptable.
Finally age, the great destroyer of beauty, threatens all these charms; and
if it proceeds according to the natural order of things, gradually the sub-
lime and noble qualities must take the place of beautiful, in order to make
a person always worthy of a greater respect as she ceases to be attractive.
Nevertheless, when the epoch of growing old, so terrible to every
woman, actually approaches, she still belongs to the fair sex, and that sex
disfigures itself if in a kind of despair of holding this character longer, it
gives way to surly and irritable mood. 2
Should we simply accept the fact that losing our looks may lessen our market
value or even our quality of life and disapprove of those who want to condemn
others who are willing to try to restore their looks? In what follows I shall try
to shed some light on this issue by analyzing different types of reconstruction-
ist desires.
Even if the enthusiasm to embellish has survived with sparkling vitality,
occasional religious forays have kept alive austere views warning, especially
women, of the dangers of frivolity. A modest demeanor, the religious
argument goes, gives a woman respectability without which she is liable to the
vagaries of everyday life. Even if these extreme ideas are nowadays seldom
encountered, one of the basic tenets of our Christian inheritance is a strong
belief in the acceptance of the natural order of things. Soap and water don’t
necessarily form the upmost limits of personal beautification, but a surgeon’s
scalpel, on the other hand, may still signify preposterous folly. The question is
why would any sensible person want to risk her health and suffer the pains of
plastic surgery just in order to make herself look—supposedly, at least—more
attractive?
Firstly, the reason for wishing to be operated does not always lie in poor
self-image or an exaggerated fear of being pitied by others. Sometimes it is
simply a question of such deformity that the only way the person can mentally
survive and live something resembling an ordinary life, is to resort to massive
operations. Even if the person himself accepts his lot of solitary existence, the
reactions of others can pain his life. Vulgar curiosity makes people stare and
embarrassment causes excessive avoidance; shunning which may hurt as much
as physical violence. These cases are basically what plastic surgery was
originally meant to deal with so that those who accept medical interference in
traditional somatic therapy shouldn’t have any difficulties in admitting the
benefits of reconstructive plastic surgery.
Secondly, there are cases where a certain feature or slight deviation from
what might be called normal, necessitates an operation. It could be the case
that even if most of us were to notice this particular defect, it would not in the
least affect our social relations with the person in question. The defect—
defined as a defect by the person herself—may cause anguish and frustration.
Genuine distress affects enjoying life and joining in social activities, and thus
justifies a person’s wish to have her looks altered—irrespective of what we
might feel in a similar situation. If one has good reasons to ameliorate one’s
quality of life, why not do so? If without an operation the person would suffer
from psychological trauma, the treatment should not be considered any
different from other operations which all carry a certain risk. If, for instance,
constant depression could be eliminated by fixing somebody with a new nose,
wouldn’t it be a better option than to pump the poor person full of anti-
depressants? It may be easy to tell other people that their worries have clouded
their judgment, but this of course does not mean that the speaker would be
right merely because the same kind of mishap wouldn’t cause her any serious
distress. Respect for autonomy often demands belief in the sincerity and
authenticity of others’ feelings.
But how should we feel about those who apparently, without any visible
reason, are ready to have their faces lifted, noses and lips reshaped, thighs
liposucted or who are ready—instead of just being nipped and tucked—to add
alien parts to their bodies. If rumors are to be believed, breast implants might
become more the rule than the exception while some men have felt that their
male ego has to be fortified with the help of some extraordinary surgical
measures on their genitals.
there is no doubt that Genius lasts longer than Beauty. That accounts for
the fact that we all take such pains to over-educate ourselves. In the wild
struggle for existence, we want to have something that endures, and so
we fill our minds with rubbish and facts, in the silly hope of keeping our
place …. The mind of the thoroughly well-informed man is a dreadful
thing. It is like a bric-à-brac shop, all monsters and dust, with everything
priced above its proper value. 3
So far, I have simply presumed that the demand for cosmetic surgery is just
another instance of autonomous choosing. But would it in fact be more
sensible to assume that behind this ever-increasing need is a strong social
pressure, pushing or even forcing both women and men towards these
operations. The desire for social and economic success creates competition and
tension which may present themselves both as a threat to lose one’s job and as
a constant reminder to keep company’s best interests in mind by taking good
care of one’s looks. In such cases is it really possible to say that the person has
herself deemed it necessary to upgrade her looks? Or have we ended up with
the situation where the old traditions that once held us captive have simply
been replaced by new customs which we are to honor if we want to keep our
acquired status in the social stratum? As easily as the company can tell its
executives that it is not appropriate for someone in their position to ride a
bicycle to work (and of course insist on having them drive a Jaguar), they may
without any sense of guilt employ drastic measures in order to make people
realize how they are expected to look. And unfortunately it might be easier for
a male employee to stick to his bicycle—him being a known eccentric—than
for a female employee to stick to her old sagging face. We do have good
reason to ask whether all decisions to have major cosmetic surgery are taken
by individuals, who are adult, sane, aware of risk, calm and under no pressure.
One major ethical problem concerning the cosmetic business is related to
professional ethics. A doctor’s duty has always been to try to alleviate pain and
suffering and if possible cure patients seeking their help. But in the case of
cosmetic surgeons the situation is different. The clinics advertising the latest
and finest operations are mainly interested in profit, and are trying to sell their
services whether the client really needs them or not. Or should we believe that
the doctors are eagerly trying to persuade their clients that their original nose
suits their face, or to convince them to forgo liposuction since a healthy diet
combined with physical exercise is just what they need? 4 This of course is
nothing unique since markets take care of our well-being in trying to sell us all
sorts of beautifying gimmicks, but it is fair to say that the difference between
the eager sales person behind the perfume counter and the plastic surgeon with
fancy diplomas is significant. The latter belongs to a class of highly respected
It was his beauty that had ruined him, his beauty and the youth that he
had prayed for. But for those two things, his life might have been free
from stain. His beauty had been to him but a mask, his youth but a
mockery. What was youth at best? A green, and unripe time, a time of
shallow moods, and sickly thoughts. Why had he worn its livery? Youth
had spoiled him. 5
NOTES
1. Introduction
In this chapter I study two interesting versions of cyborg theory and cyberso-
ciety, presented by Andy Clark and Donna Haraway. The first one is techno-
logical, ontological, and minimalistic. The second is political, epistemological,
and maximalistic. I introduce some methodological min and max concepts and
speculate on reasoning inside-out, outside-in, top-down and bottom-up. Clark
preaches the principles of cyborg construction but does not say much of what
happens next. Haraway provides us with a picture of cyberworld without say-
ing much of what its engineering features are. The obvious temptation to com-
bine both approaches must be resisted, however. They are mutually incompati-
ble. I try to indicate why this is so. I do not provide information about the
details of Clark’s and Haraway’s thinking. In the end I speculate about new
life forms, artificial life, artificial intelligence, and cyborgs. Clark as a social
liberal technologist is a traditionalist thinker unlike Haraway whose radicalism
goes deeper than one might think. It is not tied to any technological descrip-
tions or predictions, and this is her great strength. This makes room for new
life forms.
I shall try to show that Clark’s and Haraway’s ideas are mutually incompatible,
although Clark may suggest the opposite. He wants after all to “annex wave
upon wave of external elements and structures as part and parcel of their ex-
tended minds.”
Haraway’s approach is “outside-in” cybertheory, when Clark works “in-
side-out.” These two approaches seem to exhaust the relevant alternatives and
are mutually incompatible; therefore any cybertheorist and postmodern bio-
ethicist should consider them carefully. Only two choices are available. One
must choose, or forget this issue. It is not possible to write a less minimalistic
theory of cyborgs than Clark’s. According to him, cyborgs are made by adding
technoparts and -systems to a human biocreature who grows into a cyborg.
Paul Verhoeven’s film Robocop (1987) is my favorite illustration. Intuitively
this looks like the only possibility. The modern mind is procedurally technora-
tional because it is natural to think in terms of machine construction: take a
biobase and add functional technoparts to it and you get what you designed. If
you need to know more about this process, you must enquire into the origins of
the base and the new parts. Where do they come from? How are they made?
Once you have done this, you know how the design was put together. You
know what it is, just like an engineer does. And you know how it works.
Such an approach is inside-out because we start from a biocreature which
we expand into something new by adding parts to him/her. The crucial ques-
tion is this: What do we get if we continue this process of adding parts? Per-
haps we get something radically new?
These two approaches are mutually incompatible and they exhaust the possi-
bilities here. But is this so? First, consider the case against mutual compatibil-
ity. The following two theses show how things are:
ing and ineffectual. Why speculate about a situation where nothing new is
created? Social reality is as we know it and so are its individual members. Let
us take an example. We already discussed the following case:
Alternative (b) is not worth stating. In (b) one can replace “cyborg” with “hu-
man” and nothing changes. We need to continue to list the human organs in
order to find one whose function is lost or changed because of the cyberworld.
But in (a) the same is not true. The sex organs are an essential part of a human
being. If they are lost (in the social-epistemological sense), the human biobe-
ing disappears too. Haraway’s idea seems to be similar. Radical changes entail
the loss of the human being. What replaces us?—cyborgs as techno beings.
He/she becomes “it.”
What can be said about a possible maximizing inside-out alternative? Is it
equally uninteresting? It is, because first we need to create a cyberreality
which is maximally different from our current social world and then fill it with
technologically modified biocreatures or cyborgs. This procedure is either
redundant or inconsistent. It contains too much information. It is redundant in
the sense that in order to change our familiar modern society into postmodern
cyberreality all we need to do is to introduce the relevant cybersystems tech-
nologies into it, according to Haraway’s radical thesis. We do not need to
consider the relevant individual modifications of biocreatures which make
them cyborgs. They are already cyborgs. The suggested procedure is redundant
because cyberreality as such implies the existence of cyborgs, yet now one
proposes that humans be transformed into cyborgs. How can you do that, if no
pure human biocreatures exist anymore? In other words, the maximal approach
presupposed the existence of cyborgs, but to be viable the inside-out vision
requires human biocreatures as starting points. This is conversationally incon-
sistent.
Jean Baudrillard writes: “the meticulous operation of technology serves
as a model for the meticulous operation of the social ... this is the essence of
socialization, which began centuries ago.” 2 But we have already seen that such
an engineering approach need not be the only game in town; on the contrary.
Haraway shows that we can also write like this: the meticulous operation of the
social serves as the model for the meticulous operation of the technological ...
this is the essence of the technological. Inside-out is no privileged or “natural”
Cyborgs may constitute a new life form. Clark’s minimal cyborgs hardly qual-
ify as something new, which indicates a disappointing traditionalism. Techno-
logically improved humans have been with us for a long time without creating
overwhelming theoretical interest. Haraway does not say much about technol-
ogy, as we have seen. But her construction is till closer to new life forms than
Clark’s. Actually Haraway’s approach is at least open to radically novel inter-
pretation, more so than Clark’s which is tied to the mundane prospects of
modern engineering. If he wants to say how new life forms are to be generated,
he actually needs to make those inventions and innovations which are un-
known to us now. He must tell us the story of how to engineer a cyborg which
contains something which is so radically new, that we get the idea of a new life
form. There is also one more constraint: no SciFi material is allowed. Of
course there is no logical reason why Clark could not do it, but we can also say
that there is no reason why he could do it.
Haraway’s case is much easier because she works outside-in. If she is
able to describe a cybersociety and its politics so that her construction is novel
and makes sense, she may have reached her goal. This is how I see it. Haraway
wants to create a maximal cyborg outside-in. That is why she sketches a cyber-
social order in her “Cyborg Manifesto.” Suppose that society is completely
networked so that members are connected to each other by means of a mobile
interface permanently connected to one’s central nervous system. Think of a
mobile phone like a device plugged into one’s brain stem and spinal cord.
Everyone has it together with an ID chip under the skin and a GPS. Such a
being is certainly a cyborg. However, we need not specify, as we did above,
how the identification, localization, and connectivity of the cyborgs are
achieved. Maximal effects (politically) may be achieved by means of minimal
modifications. Networked, virtual, and collective consciousness and a life
world mean a maximal change compared to the modern isolationistic life style.
But at the same time individual cyborgs are minimally altered, and thus we
need to know minimally about their techno changes. A couple of simple de-
vices are enough. This is to say that they are cyborgs because of their social
political world rather than their own physical modifications. The members of a
cybersociety are cyborgs. This is the crucial idea. It is not the case that a cy-
bersociety emerges because of cyborgs, however heavily modified they are.
The same idea applies to the new life forms: in the new cybersociety we have
them, regardless of the nature of the creatures which inhabit the new world. In
the new society we are alive in a new sense of the old word.
NOTES
1. Andy Clark, Natural Born Cyborgs (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003),
p. 34, and Donna Haraway, “A Cyborg Manifesto” (1985) in Neil Spiller, Cyber
Reader (London: Phaidon, 2002), pp. 110-114, p. 111.
2. Jean Baudrillard, Simulacra and Simulation (Ann Arbor, MI: University of
Michigan Press, 1994), p. 34.
3. W. E. Bijker, Of Bicycles, Bakelites, and Bulbs: Toward a Theory of Socio-
technical Change (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1995).
4. John Searle, Minds, Brains and Science (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University
Press, 1984).
5. Steven Johnson, Emergence (New York: Scribner, 2001); Eric Bonabeau,
Marco Dorigo, and Guy Theraulaz, Swarm Intelligence (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1999).
Hayes and John Bell Award for Leadership in Medical Ethics and
Professionalism.
FRANK LEAVITT, whose friends call him by his Hebrew name, Yeruham,
was with his wife, June, a homesteader in the forest of Western Massachusetts,
an organic gardener and dairy goat raiser in Upstate New York, a mechanic for
racing bicyclists, an irrigation worker and general repairman on a kibbutz in
the Northern Sinai, a Hebron settler, an Israeli soldier, a glazier, and a
plumber. He is also a philosophy graduate of John Carroll, Toronto and Edin-
burgh Universities and teaches since 1990 in the Faculty of Health Sciences,
Ben Gurion University, Beer Sheva, Israel. Among his teaching subjects are
biomedical ethics, philosophy of the health and life sciences, health in the
Eastern and Western philosophy, and aging in Eastern and Western Philoso-
phy.
LEILA TOIVIAINEN was born and educated in Finland but has lived over-
seas all of her adult life. She trained as a registered nurse and registered mid-
wife at the Newcastle General, UK in the seventies and then emigrated first to
New Zealand and then on to Australia, where she had a career in neonatal in-
tensive care nursing. In the late eighties she started studying philosophy at the
University of Tasmania where she obtained her doctorate in 2000. In the same
year she became Adjunct Professor at the University of Helsinki, Finland. She
has been teaching bioethics since 1994 and her main academic interest is in the
philosophy of Nietzsche. Her hobbies are free-range chickens, yoga and surf-
ing.
SIMON WOODS is Senior Lecturer at the Policy, Ethics and Life Sciences
Research Centre (PEALS), University of Newcastle, UK where he is the Di-
rector of Learning. PEALS is an ethics “Think Tank” involved in research
teaching and public engagement on the ethical and social implications of the
life sciences. Simon spent 10 years as a clinical cancer nurse and holds bache-
lor and doctoral degrees in philosophy. He has conducted empirical and con-
ceptual research in bioethics. His current research concerns the ethical and so-
cial implications of early human development research, medical nano-
technology, and translational research in neuromuscular diseases.
Wallace, James D. 48
Wallace, R. J. 195
Walters, LeRoy 159
181. John Kultgen and Mary Lenzi, Editors, Problems for Democracy.
A volume in Philosophy of Peace
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Dimensions of Nonviolence and Peace. A volume in Philosophy of Peace
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Matters: Stances on the Neurobiology of Social Cognition. A volume in
Cognitive Science
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Pragmatism, Education, and Children: International Philosophical
Perspectives. A volume in Pragmatism and Values
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Philosophical Explorations in Globalization, Global Behavior, and Peace.
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Beyond. A volume in Philosophy and Psychology
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European Pragmatist Forum, Volume Four. A volume in Central European
Value Studies
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Entrepreneurs. A volume in Hartman Institute Axiology Studies
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Through the Surface: Philosophical Approaches to Bioethics. A volume in
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