Friday, November 7, 2014

Time for a difficult conversation

Linguistic gymnastics to avoid criticism of Islam are regrettable



Two weeks ago at 10 a.m. any Canadian within earshot of a television screen or radio could have guessed the ideology ascribed to by the man running around downtown Ottawa with a loaded rifle.

It wouldn't have been a wild guess, for instance, to suggest that the 32-year-old perpetrator, who had just gunned down a Canadian soldier before shooting his way the Centre Block of Parliament, hell-bent on killing others, was a follower of the Islamic religion. No, this would have been a good guess — an educated guess — given the apparent frequency and regularity with which such events occur worldwide.

In the wake of these sorts of events, most of us desperately engage our linguistic gymnastic skills in order to avoid saying anything negative about Islam. We suggest the actions are the work of madmen, lone wolves or, simply, losers. Moderate Muslims encourage us in these beliefs — no doubt in an effort to help cast their religion in the best light possible. This is entirely understandable, but regrettable, nonetheless, for the inaccuracies (and sometimes blatant falsehoods) it helps to promote.

It's time, however, that we were honest with ourselves, and others: Some of the fundamentals of Islam are a problem and do provide a credible excuse for acts of terror.

The reason I say this is that, despite a concerted public relations campaign to assert the contrary, Islam isn't a religion of peace. It's not all warm and fuzzy, through and through. No, like most religions, including Christianity, Islam is complex, diverse, textured, and represents both some of humanity's highest aspirations and basest impulses.

It is undeniable, for instance, that significant portions of the Qur'an — the source text of the Islamic faith — are categorically and undeniably pro-violence, and explicitly call on believers to brutalize and kill non-believers (i.e. every person who isn't a Muslim). Admonishments from Allah (God) to "strike unbelievers over the neck" (cut off their heads) and to "smite over all their fingers and toes" (cut off their fingers and toes) and to "cast terror into the hearts of those who … disbelieve" (and the like) litter the pages of the Qur'an, especially in its later chapters.

And that's a problem, because like it or not fundamentalists do provide a tenable, if all too ignoble, interpretation of these violence-laden passages — sometimes to murderous effect. For them the Qur'an provides a gold-plated excuse for unabashed 7th century savagery. They're purists, of sorts (in the worst possible sense of the word) and present a danger to us all, as recent events make painfully clear.

This doesn't mean, of course, that the majority of Muslims aren't peaceful — the vast majority most certainly are. Just like the vast majority of Christians, for example, who no longer burn witches at the stake, target Jews or kill homosexuals (practices which were easily squared, and in some darker regions, still are squared, with the teachings of the Bible), moderate Muslims across the globe have worked hard to fit Islam, and the Qur'an, into a modern moral framework. That framework is now entirely at odds with the brutality and savagery of ages long-since past, but forever captured in such holy texts as the inerrant word of God.

If we deny, however, that some very bad ideas do find support in the Qur'an, or if we simply gloss over this fact or fail to see how such ideas might hold sway with some people, surely we do so at our own expense.

Thus, despite all of the tragedy and heartbreak the recent events in Ottawa and Quebec represent, Canadians must now find it within themselves to become uncomfortable and to cause some discomfort in those who would otherwise prefer to avoid having difficult conversations.

The topic of Islam, once again, is a relevant and pressing one, and it's time we put away the fear of being inopportune or offensive, and say what's really on our minds. It's time, in short, that all of us were a bit more honest with ourselves about what we believe and what we wish were the case, but simply isn't so.


T. David Marshall is a former lecturer in ethics and current lawyer practising in Hamilton.



Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Tolerance? Yes. Accommodation? We’ll see

There’s a crucial difference between hearing out odious ideas and acting on them

By 

A decision by York University this month to accommodate a student who, for religious reasons, declared that he could not tolerate partaking in activities involving women, has once again raised the question of the proper limits of toleration and accommodation.

York University's administration, in its infinite "wisdom," decided it was better, or easier, to simply tolerate this student's misogynistic outlook, and make accommodations for him, rather than mount even the most perfunctory of defences for the values thereby put at risk — gender equality, academic freedom and individual dignity, just to name a few.

The administration's decision would have been to the detriment of that portion of the class possessing vaginas — and to those with penises and brains — had it not been for the demonstrated intestinal fortitude of the professor at the centre of this self-imposed mess. This professor, a male, refused to assent to that student's absurd request and then refused to assent to the still-more-absurd demand of the school to permit gender segregation. In doing so, he did what the school's administration should have done in the first place.

His moral courage, in the face of such pressure, is deserving of praise — and is, I fear, an increasingly rare and (therefore) precious thing.

I say "rare" because the disturbing fact is that this school's administration is not alone in its hapless and misguided accommodation of the patently absurd and barbaric. Britain, of late, has experienced its own spate of battles with "accommodation-gone-awry" and has fared only half well. In that country, an association called Universities UK (which represents nearly every university in the country) recently decided to go about the bizarre task of crafting guidelines for the segregation of classes to accommodate visiting Muslim professors (lest one of them be offended by the presence of a woman, or — gasp! — not attend). In these guidelines, the association counselled its members — 133 universities — that the segregation of women was "OK," so long as they weren't relegated to the very back of the classroom.

Such ghastly affronts to reason and sense raise, I think, the important questions of how far the elastic notion of toleration takes us and how far we should accommodate unreasonable ideas.

The toleration of ideas (even patently bad ones) is a good thing — as John Locke's famous 1689 Letter Concerning Toleration rightly points out. The forced conformity of one's mind to the prevailing notions of society concerning matters of right and wrong, good and bad, is both a practical impossibility and very undesirable thing. When it comes to the range of ideas to be possessed and expressed by its possessor and expositor, even the most odious idea is entitled to a fair hearing.

This disposition of liberality, however, has no analogue in the case of accommodation. In determining what to accommodate and what to reject, we are forced to appeal to, and exercise, our reason. Accommodation asks of us not simply that we lend an ear to, or entertain the thoughts of, another, but that we positively make room for (and perhaps even lend a hand to) the carrying of such ideas into effect. This exercise, unlike the other, demands that we reason out the evidence for and against the ideas in question, before deciding how — or indeed, whether — to act.

The necessity of undertaking the task of reasoning, however, appears to have entirely escaped York's administration. The only other possible conclusion is that they haven't the collective wherewithal to reason themselves out of a paper bag, because it's not just that gender segregation is so obviously a bad idea (as it has, at its core, the subjugation of women) but that gender equality is so obviously a good idea.

Reasons abound to support it: What genitalia one possesses is determined by the lottery of birth; differences in the treatment of individuals should be based on salient distinctions and not on the basis of that lottery; it promotes social stability, equality and industrial development; it decreases the likelihood of individual and group poverty and contributes to lower rates of infectious disease — and I could go on.

But without even an attempt at reasoning it out, York University very nearly let the lesser idea win. And that's a problem for us all.

If there is a silver lining to these events, however, it is that we have been reminded that the price of freedom is eternal vigilance. Tolerance? Yes. Accommodation? We'll see. But in that fight our weapon and our shield is — and forever will be — reason, and we relinquish that at our peril.

T. David Marshall is a lawyer practising in Hamilton.

Monday, November 25, 2013

An Appetite for Democracy



For better or, yes, worse, Mayor Rob Ford is a product of — and subject to — the democracy we cherish

By
I've spoken with countless people over the past week or so excited about the recent Rob Ford revelations — crack smoking; allegations of gang connections; extortion allegations and the general debasement of basic civics at Toronto City Hall, just to name a few.
Again and again, people asked me the same question: "How could a guy like that get elected?"
Indeed, I had to ask myself that question — could it simply be that we've all been drinking the democratic Kool-Aid? Maybe democracy isn't all it's cracked (excuse the pun) up to be.
In western liberal democracies like Canada, we simply assume that democracy is the best form of government. But is it — and if so, why? We assume, for instance, that when set against a background of essentially fair preconditions ("a level playing field"), the aggregate choices of rational agents must always lead to the best possible outcome. In the marketplace, our choices, and the pressures these exert, regularly lead to the invention of better washing machines, tastier coffees and niftier cars, and there's little doubt that that's a good thing.

Upon reflection then, and given all of human history, it — democracy — is actually a rather remarkable feat we’ve pulled off. Even today the greater balance of the globe doesn’t have what we’ve got.

But sometimes the Big Macs of politics get elected and we find ourselves with, for example, Rob Ford as mayor, or George W. Bush as the leader of the free world. Disaster ensues.
What went wrong? If, like coronaries from unhealthy burgers, unrepentant and selfish politicians are not, on the whole, the best of all possible outcomes, then why do we persist in touting democracy as the best form of political organization? Could we be wrong?
In short, no, we're not wrong — or not exactly, anyway. But I think the outcome (good or bad) of the whole process is really beside the point, so perhaps I should explain.
Clearly, the democratic process isn't the greatest way of picking the best among us. Maybe a test would be better. George W. Bush would never have been elected if there had been a series of skill-testing questions to answer, and I think it's safe to say Rob Ford would have flunked such a test too. After all, neither one was a Philosopher King, and "virtue" is not a word we typically associate with their names. But, at the end of the day both of these men were the guys regular folks believed they could sit down and have a beer with — and that's exactly what the market delivered.
So what is it, then, that we prize so much about the democratic process? In two words: freedom and accountability.
Despite our collective lamentations about Rob Ford's criminal and base-behaviour, he was our (the royal "our" — not me!) choice. No czar or central committee of The Party picked Ford for us to falsely swoon over; no one ever proclaimed him a living god. For better or (obviously) worse, Ford rose through the ranks of municipal politics, held himself out for public display, and let the voters decide.
As for accountability — well, we've got that, too. For starters, Ford is subject to the law, just like the rest of the guys and gals who voted him in to office. Then there are councils, which are empowered by us to create rules and regulations, and in Toronto's case are using those powers now to curb Mayor Ford's. And, finally, there's always next year when the mayor's job will be back on the auction block — sold to whoever secures the most votes.
Upon reflection then, and given all of human history, it — democracy — is actually a rather remarkable feat we've pulled off. Even today the greater balance of the globe doesn't have what we've got. It's not open, for instance, to a Chinese person — any one of the one billion individuals who populate that country — to openly question his or her leader.
Nor is it possible for the small village boy, or girl, to reasonably dream of one-day leading his or her fellow Zimbabweans to a brighter future. Forget glass ceilings and wheelchair access — for the vast majority of our numbers on Earth, there isn't even a door.
So Jimmy Kimmel, John Stewart and Jay Leno are having their fun with Mayor Rob Ford — goodness knows we had ours when Bush was in power. These guys, and sometimes gals (remember Sarah Palin?), get elected and to me that's quite all right. Democracy might not be what it's cracked up to be, but it sure beats the alternative.
Next time though, let's just make sure we order the Quarter Pounder.
T. David Marshall is a lawyer practising in Hamilton. He is also a vegetarian. No animals were eaten during the writing of this article.


http://www.thespec.com/opinion-story/4232737-an-appetite-for-democracy/

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Dr. Justice T. David MARSHALL


MARSHALL, Dr. Justice T. David
 
In memoriam Died November 20, 2009

Even at our greatest, one must, upon reflection, be humbled by the utter insignificance of our individual lives. At best, we merit a fleeting reference here, or a bookmark there. Each of us is but a drop in the veritable ocean that is mankind. We are born to die; to give birth; to let loose our grasp in favour of those to come. Our brief day begets a long night to come.
 
And still, individuals, like drops, count - the whole is nothing without its parts. Perhaps, then, and in the final analysis, this is the most any of us should dare to dream - to be remembered fondly, if at all, by those who shared with us our brief moments in the sun. To ask for more, surely, would be to ask for too much. 
 
T. David Marshall is loved and fondly remembered by Jill Marshall, his children Jillian, Julie,
Albert, Thomas, David Jr., by their families and his friends.
 
T. David Marshall, Jr. 2013
 

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Fact: Religion is not Reasonable - Promoting Unreason (faith) has its Consequences

Science is not a "thing," a doctrine or a set of beliefs — it is a mode of thinking and method of inquiry. There is no Book. Once this concept is grasped, the errors in reasoning committed by the writer of the May 3 letter to the editor entitled Muddying the Waters ought to become obvious. But, because an understanding of these errors will, invariably, continue to elude some, I fear it necessary to bring more to bear upon the subject.

There is an unsettling fact I think most religiously inclined readers will be loath to accept: Religion is not reasonable.

I mean this in the most analytical sense, of course, in that religious belief is not based upon reason, but upon authority. The claims to "Truth" by Jesus or Mohammad rest entirely upon the basis of their assertions to have been (in the case of Jesus) the son of God, or (in the case of Mohammad) to have communed with God through an intermediary: These are not reasons — these are simply further claims.

This is precisely why such doctrines are called "faiths." It takes an active willingness to suspend one's otherwise critical faculties in order to believe — on the basis of no evidence — that the claims proffered by such men are true. This is, incidentally, the very definition of irrational behaviour.                       
 
Science, however, is unlike religion. The only basis for its claims is that they are reasonable — that is, reason-based. Our belief in the accuracy of the statement "the Earth goes round the sun" is not premised upon who utters the statement, but upon what reasons we are given for believing it to be so.

There is, in this sense (and contrary to the assertions of the writer), no falsity to the dichotomy proffered by Scott Thompson in his April 30 column on the Comment page entitled Terror in the Name of God. Reason, and the application of reason to the discovery of truths about our world (a process we commonly call "science" or "scientific"), really is on one side of the equation, while superstition and unreason really are on the other.

The question posed by Thompson as to whether those who support and promote an unreasonable view of the world ought to be, in some way, held accountable for the actions of followers who take religious texts seriously, is a pressing one.

Apologists for religion, such as the writer, want everyone to believe that it's simply the work of a few extremists — a few bad apples — who bring a measure of disrepute to religion.

But this, surely, is a faulty, ahistoric and myopic view that betrays a certain naiveté about the true nature and effect of religion (as systems of irrational beliefs) upon the minds of otherwise morally decent people.

Religious observance — which is simply another way of saying "a dogmatic and unreflective fidelity to the dictates of an authority that demands obedience" — really is linked to the 9/11 attacks, the Boston bombings, the denial of condoms to AIDS-ravaged sub-Saharan African communities, the genital mutilation of girls (and boys), and to the deaths and enslavement of millions in a way that a mode of thinking or method of inquiry can never be.

I grant without reservation, of course, that for the majority of followers, faith has not entirely dulled their moral faculties. Despite, for example, the Koran's (and the Bible's) ringing endorsement of such inhuman practices as slavery, misogyny, xenophobia, homophobia and murder, most religiously inclined folks have found a way to navigate around these less-noble parts of their faith in order to act decently toward others. But this feat has always been achieved in spite of religion, not because of it.

In this respect then, it should come as no surprise that those who are attracted to unreasonable claims in the first place will include highly unreasonable people who are utterly incapable of reasoning their way out of their faith's commandments to, for example, murder infidels, subjugate women or kill homosexuals.

And so, contrary to the writer's assertion that all faiths should get a free pass, I would suggest that any system of unreasonable claims — whose leaders actively recruit and retain people who are themselves apt to believe such things — ought to share some of the blame when things go, as it were, entirely by the Book.

Thankfully, for reason and science, there is no such Book — and so far as I know, no downside to being "extremely" reasonable.


T. David Marshall is a lawyer and former lecturer in ethics and lives in Cayuga.

Available at: http://www.thespec.com/opinion-story/2555864-fact-faith-is-not-reasonable/
See also http://www.thespec.com/opinion-story/2257233-didn-t-galileo-show-us-truth-is-not-found-in-authority-and-obedience-/
Follow on Twitter: https://twitter.com/TDavidMarshall

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

'Fiscal Impact’ vs. Individual Autonomy


The bottom line doesn’t justify government regulation of our private selves

To the extent that the writer of the article entitled “Healthy choices and John Stuart Mill,” (Comment page, Jan. 24) was encouraging Canadians to become more healthful, one can hardly find fault with his opinion. Good health is a laudable goal, no doubt.

But there is something deeply wrong with the balance of this writer’s thesis, which suggests nothing less than the total disintegration of any discernible boundary between our public and private selves. Of this, I believe, something should be said.

The idea this writer promotes — that the public administration of societal goods warrants government regulation of the details of our lives, so long as our life choices have “prejudicial” fiscal impacts on “the system” — is at the very least, a very bad one. Even he could not help but point out a couple of the systemic reasons why we, as a society, might balk at (for instance) taxing people with high blood pressure.

But his reasons (he cited bureaucratic bloat and cost) were largely unimaginative and failed to adequately capture what I think is the core reason why most Canadians would, upon reflection, reject his thesis.

I will start with an uncontroversial claim: Each of us inhabits both a public and private sphere.

If I am brushing my teeth I am likely to say, in that instant, that I inhabit the private sphere of my life as an individual only. No one is watching me, nor would I expect or want someone to be. I am a citizen in that instant too, of course, but the defining characteristics and obligations associated with that role, (as a citizen), I am apt to think, will play little part in how I go about the task.
Conversely, if I am a member of a jury, I am likely to admit, in that instant, I inhabit the public sphere of my life. In that role, the responsibilities and duties I bear as a citizen will determine, in large part, the choices open to me. It would be improper — and it would be an abdication of my duties — to choose to brush my teeth during the trial, for example.

How we define this boundary between our public and private selves — and the corresponding obligations and freedoms these roles necessarily entail — is, therefore, of vital importance in determining what we owe and what we are due. But upon what principles do we determine one thing to be public and the other private?

If the writer’s thesis were left to stand, our public responsibilities and private freedoms would be determined by the quotient of “fiscal impact.” As he would have it, if “my life choices end up costing the community” money, then these choices — be they about my body or the things I might put into my body — are fit for public regulation. This, I think, is an unacceptable way of distinguishing the public from the private.

In part, it is unacceptable because it is under-inclusive. The quotient of “fiscal impact” does not, in any meaningful way, capture the myriad of reasons we are likely to cite in support of a just division between our public and private spheres.

When one chooses, for example, to become vegetarian or to start taking the stairs, one is unlikely to see these decisions as being informed by considerations of the fiscal impacts or benefits that might accrue to society. Rather, one is likely to view these decisions, and one’s ability to choose for ones’ self, as matters of personal autonomy and individuality.

Thus, respecting the autonomy and individuality of others — as a correlative to the claim each of us makes for ourselves — is at the core of our deliberations when determining the proper division between our public and private selves. This core aspect, however, is lost when we give primacy to the quotient of fiscal impact.

It is tempting, of course, to view our obligations in purely economic terms. It makes determining what we owe each other — and what we are due — as easy as pulling out a calculator.

But to do so is to obscure, and diminish, what it means to be fully human. Our fellow citizens are not simply debits and credits — they are individuals deserving of respect. And to respect anything less — the taxpayer or the bottom line only, for example — is to fail to pay heed to what really matters: our humanity.
T. David Marshall is a lawyer practising in Hamilton

http://www.thespec.com/opinion/columns/article/877586---fiscal-impact-vs-individual-autonomy

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Henry David Thoreau

T. David Marshall
Marshall Philosophy Lecture Series
October 2012

Topic: Henry David Thoreau’s Essay, Civil Disobedience and the Importance of Active Citizenship

INTRODUCTION
“I went to the Woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out the marrow of life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner…”[1]
Henry David Thoreau was born in Concorde, New England, in 1817. He died in 1862. Civil Disobedience was published in 1849. This essay is cited as inspiration for some of the greatest thinkers of the last 2 centuries, including such giants of history as Mahatmas Ghandi and Martin Luther King Jr.
Thoreau was a rugged individualist and friend of humanity. He saw the individual as the singular and indivisible unit and source of morality, and felt that every man's nature was mutable and amenable to reason. The source of every man's sense of right and wrong, according to Thoreau, was his conscience. When Henry David Thoreau was sick and near-death he was asked if he had made his peace with God - to which Thoreau replied: “I did not know we had ever quarrelled”. Throughout his life, Henry David Thoreau sought to live by the dictates of his conscience, cost what may: this manner of living, he thought, rendered God's forgiveness unnecessary.
Thoreau was a friend of Ralph Waldo Emerson, the great transcendentalist philosopher. They lived together, as friends, for many years. Of philosophy Henry David Thoreau had this to say:
“To be a philosopher is not merely to have subtle thoughts, nor even to found a school, but to so love wisdom as to live according to its dictates, a life of simplicity, independence, magnanimity and trust. It is to solve some of the problems of life, not only theoretically, but practically.”[2]
This is Henry David Thoreau.
CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE (Published 1849)
There are many ways to read Thoreau’s 1849 Essay. It is about civil disobedience – of course - but it is about the events of 1849; it is about slavery and his nation’s prosecution of an unjust war. It is also about Active Citizenship.
At the bottom of page 11, Thoreau states the following: “Action from principle - the perception and performance of right - changes things and relations…”
Throughout the essay Henry David Thoreau implores his reader to act from principle.
“The mass of men serve the State… not as men mainly, but as machines with their bodies. In most cases there is no free exercise whatever of the judgment or of the moral sense; [Most men]… Put themselves on a level with wood and earth and a stone…Why has every man a conscience, then? I think we should be men first, and subjects afterward.”[3]
Being human, for Thoreau, is inextricably tied up with the notion of being “active”, and, of acting out of principles consonant with one’s conscience. Henry David Thoreau states, on page 6, that men who serve the state as mere machines - or what we might today call automatons – “have the same worth...as horses and dogs.” This is so, according to Thoreau, because such people, who allow themselves, unwittingly or wittingly, to be rendered mere things at the disposal or use of others, degrade the very thing that makes them different from beasts or objects – their independence in thought and action and their ability to choose the ends they seek.[4]
To this end, Thoreau is critical of his fellow citizen’s inaction with regard to some of the most pressing social issues of his day - among these, the issue of slavery:
“There are thousands who are in opinion opposed to slavery and to the war, who yet in effect do nothing to put an end to them; while esteeming themselves children of Washington and Franklin, sit down with their hands in their pockets and say that they know not what to do, and do nothing[.] They will wait, well disposed, for others to remedy the evil, that they may no longer have it to regret…there are nine hundred and ninety-nine patrons of virtue to one virtuous man.”[5]
Virtue and Active Citizenship, according to Henry David Thoreau, are one and the same. To be virtuous is to act with conviction and to “not leave to the mercy of chance” what the dictates of conscience require be done.[6] To abandon one's conscience, is to abandon what makes one fully human.
“Is there not the sort of bloodshed when the conscience is wounded? Through this wound a man’s real manhood and immortality flow out, and he bleeds to an everlasting death. I see this blood flowing now.”[7]
According to Thoreau, impartiality is always partial, for it necessarily favours the status quo. Action from principle, on the other hand, and the perception and performance of right, stirs the individual moral agent from his slumber, and enlivens him to the evil he abets through his disinterest in his own moral power.
“It is not a man's duty, as a matter of course, to devote himself to the eradication of any, even the most enormous wrong; he may still properly have other concerns to engage him; but it is his duty, at least, to wash his hands of it, and, if he gives it no thought longer, not to give it practically his support… I must first see, at the very least that I do not pursue [my own aims] sitting upon another man's shoulders.”[8]
Here, Henry David Thoreau states the obvious: it is not my duty to save someone from drowning but it is my duty to exercise my moral judgment and ensure I do not contribute to that person’s plight.[9]
CONCLUSION
At first blush, perhaps, Thoreau’s idea of Active Citizenship does not appear very active – “its not a man’s duty…to devote himself to the eradication of any…wrong” he says. But this is to miss the insight Thoreau provides the attentive reader. Just as Martin Luther King Jr.[10] would discover in his quest for greater racial equality in the United States, and, just as Ghandi discovered in his quest to liberate India from the clutches of the United Kingdom[11], Thoreau knew that the one condition necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.[12] As Thoreau rightly asserts, “The broadest and most prevalent error requires the most disinterested virtue” in order to sustain it – nothing more.[13] Being an active citizen then, according to Thoreau, means only this: taking seriously one’s moral agency and duty to act according to the dictates of conscience in order to avoid either harming another, or lending one’s weight to the machine that would do so in one’s stead. Why all men have a conscience is so that they might use it in order to check themselves.  Its good use, when “well done, is done forever.”[14]
DISCUSSION and FACT-SCENARIO QUESTIONS


[1] Walden
[2] Walden
[3] Civil Disobedience, pages 5 and 6
[4] For those interested in this topic of what it means to be Human, you may wish to read Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason,
[5] Civil Disobedience, pages 8 and 9
[6] Civil Disobedience, page 9
[7] Civil Disobedience, page 15
[8] Civil Disobedience, page 10
[9] Civil Disobedience, See bottom of page 7
[10] See MLK Jr.’s discussion of what he terms “the moderate” in his Letter from Birmingham Jail
[11] Ghandi, in fact, used Thoreau’s example as a model in order to mount a campaign tactic that paralysed British India and ultimately helped hasten the United Kingdom’s departure from the sub-continent – this tactic became known simply as “non-cooperation”. 
[12] This adapted phrase is often attributed to the philosopher Edmund Burke; It also appears, with attribution to Burke, in Primo Levi’s book Survival in Auschwitz
[13] Civil Disobedience, page 11
[14] Civil Disobedience, page 14


UTILITARIANISM


T. David Marshall

Marshall Philosophy Lecture Series

November 2012

 
Topic: Utilitarianism and the Greatest Good (Happiness) for the Greatest Number Principle

Introduction

The creed which accepts as the foundation of morals, Utility, or the Greatest Happiness Principle, holds that actions are right in proportion as they tend to promote happiness, wrong as they tend to produce the reverse of happiness.[1]

What does it mean to say that someone has acted morally, in any given situation?

Enter the following thought experiment:

Suppose a clerk at the local corner store sees a young child come to the counter with a handful of candy. Suppose also that the child does not know the price of the candy in his hand, and no one is with this child to chaperone the clerk’s conduct towards him. The child puts his fistful of change on the counter for the clerk to count.

If the clerk takes more change than is the price of the candy, most will certainly agree he has not acted properly towards this unsuspecting child. But what of the clerk’s motivations – do his motivations play any role in our determining whether or not the clerk has acted morally towards the young child if he, in all instances, in fact ends up taking the correct amount of change?

a)       Suppose the clerk thinks that this child might suspect something should he take too much change and believes thereafter the child will go about town telling potential customers of his having been cheated – would refraining from taking too much change, in this situation, be viewed as an act that has moral worth? Would we say that the clerk acted morally in this situation in having not taken more change than he was due?

b)       Suppose the clerk knows for a fact that this child will not suspect him, and so the clerk might cheat the child with total impunity. Cheating the child would also make the clerk very happy, and would not diminish the child’s happiness one bit. Nonetheless, in this scenario, the clerk reasons that cheating is wrong and so takes only the correct amount of change due. Would the clerk’s decision, in this case, be an act which has moral worth? Would we say that the clerk acted morally in this situation?

From a Utilitarian perspective, the answers to both “a” and “b” might strike you as a bit odd: In “a” the Utilitarian is likely to say that the action of the clerk is moral because it likely promotes the happiness of many future customers, along with the happiness of the child. In “b”, however, it is not entirely clear that a Utilitarian would say the clerk acted morally at all. If the child would not be harmed by the cheating, but the clerk would have enjoyed the cheating of this child greatly, it’s not entirely clear that a Utilitarian would favour giving the correct change at all!

Let me explain.

Utilitarianism

Think about the following Hypothetical conversation you and I might have:

What motivates you to get up in the morning? You might say simply, “my alarm clock” – but truly, why did you set your alarm, then? “An exam”, you reply. But then, can I ask, why do you want to take this exam? “Because I want to get good grades”, you retort. And why do good grades matter to you? “Because, I want to get a good job” you say. And why is a good job important to you? “Because I want to toil as little as necessary and for the greatest return” you tell me. And why is that important to you? “Because I want to be happy and avoid or lesson my pains and unpleasant efforts wherever I can” you blurt. Ah and why, can I ask, do you want to be happy? “What a silly question!” you say. “Because - that is why”.

Enter Jeremy Bentham – an English philosopher, lawyer, writer and social reformer who lived from 1748 to 1832. Bentham is recognized as the father of the moral theory of Utilitarianism – the idea that actions are right insofar as they promote happiness and lesson pain, and wrong insofar as they promote the opposite.

Bentham believed that all human action is undertaken with regard to two primary considerations: pleasure and pain. Bentham believed that all actions (as illustrated, above) can be traced to the dictates of these two inward “sovereign masters”; they “govern us in all we do, in all we say, in all we think”.

If one chooses poorly – say by not setting the alarm for an early morning exam – it is only, according to Bentham, because the individual has failed to properly weigh the attendant pleasures and pains accompanying this choice. For sure, one might enjoy a morning lay-in, but in exchange for this momentary pleasure, this individual might give up even greater pleasures (getting the degree or job, for example) or even suffer the pain of long-term failure, defeat, or poverty.

To test what is the right thing to do (what is the right action to be undertaken), in promoting happiness and lessoning pain, Bentham therefore devised a 7-part test:

1.       Ask how intense the pleasure to be had, or pain to be avoided, is

2.       Ask what is the likely duration of the pleasure to be had, or pain to be avoided

3.       Ask what is the certainty of the pleasure or pain that will result from the intended action(s)

4.       Ask what is the proximity of the pleasure or pain to the action to be undertaken (i.e. will the pleasure be long-delayed, or the pain far-off?)

5.       Ask how likely the pleasure or pain expected will lead to other pleasures or pains (fecundity)

6.       Ask how pure the pleasure or pains to result from the action will be (i.e. will the pleasure or pain be of nearly equal parts, or intermixed?)

7.       Ask of the number of persons to be affected by the action to be undertaken

What Makes Utilitarianism different from Pure Egoism?
In short, it is the 7th consideration outlined in Bentham’s 7-part test which makes Utilitarianism unlike strict or pure Egoism.

Bentham believed that all persons can experience happiness or pain in approximately the same proportions and thus all persons are (approximately) equally entitled to seek pleasure or avoid pain. That is, according to Jeremy Bentham, no particular person has a greater claim to happiness than any other person, objectively speaking. Thus, favouring your own happiness, over that of other’s, would be irrational; 1=1, always. If you value your “1” more than others, it’s simply because you can’t do basic math.

Given then, that all humans are motivated by these two “sovereigns” (pleasure and pain), Bentham believed that one could not rationally rank any one person’s happiness above another’s – nor pass judgment on what any particular person might find enjoyable, or painful. “Pushin” said Bentham,  “is as good as poetry”.[2]

In determining then, how to rightly engage with others (i.e. in determining what are morally praiseworthy actions), Bentham states that one should act so as to promote happiness – the chief end of all human action – or seek to lesson its antithesis. Actions are right – are moral, insofar as they promote the ends of all human action (that is, the attainment of pleasures and avoidance of pains), and wrong insofar as they frustrate the achievement of these ends.

Lets try applying the principle of the Greatest Good for the Greatest Number in the following fact-scenarios.

Hypothetical Fact-Scenarios

1.       The year is 1884. You are a mate on a ship called the Mignonette. Your ship is overtaken by massive waves and you and 2 other men, along with a cabin boy who is about 17 years of age, seek refuge in a small, leaky life-boat. A month goes by - there is no food in the life-boat left to eat, and the last time anyone ate was 4 days ago. Against your advice, the young cabin boy, the night before, began drinking sea water. He is now out of his mind, sick and likely dying at the front of the boat. There are no ships on the horizon, and in the 1 month you and your 3 mates have been lost at sea, you have not seen any sign of rescue. There is little to no hope. Dudley, the oldest and strongest member on the life-boat signals to you to aid him in killing the dying cabin boy. He says that if you and he do so, everyone still alive will share the cabin boy's blood and flesh, and thereby survive at least a fortnight more. You are asked to join in the kill and will be rewarded for your efforts if you do.

What do you do? Why? 

2.       You are a doctor in a hospital in Hamilton Ontario. A young healthy single homeless fellow has come in for a routine, minor procedure that requires that he be put under general anaesthetic for a few hours. You also deal regularly with a number of patients at the hospital and know for a fact that there are 5 people in Ward “C” (which stands for “Critical”) who are in desperate need of organs such as a pancreas, kidneys, etc. The patients in Ward C are miserable in their current state – they have families and just want to live and be happy once again. Your single homeless patient is a former convict with no family and no home. His life is an unhappy one, filled with inner anguish and continual self-doubt. Your nurse, Ms. Ratchet, turns to you, just as the fellow is put under for the routine procedure, and proposes that the two of you work to harvest this homeless fellow’s organs for the benefit of your 5 Ward C patients. No one will miss this fellow, and no one will find out about your good deed, should you decide to do as Ms. Ratchet suggests. In the meantime, the blood work has come back on the homeless fellow – he is a match to all 5 Ward C Patients!

What do you do? Why? 

3.       You are a nurse at the Toronto General Hospital. Your patient, Mr. Jones, is dying. Mr. Jones is a kindly old man, who worked hard his entire life. He has amassed a great deal of cash over the years – and because he trusts you, Mr. Jones has told you, in strict confidence, where all his money is hidden – no other living soul knows of this hidden cash. It amounts to nearly $2 million dollars! Mr. Jones asks you to promise him that you will deliver the hidden cash to his equally well-off younger brother, Indiana Jones. Indiana is a single, older fellow who now lives in the woods and spends his remaining days fishing and trapping. He has given up any remaining interest in re-entering society, has no need for cars, planes and the like, and simply wants to enjoy his remaining days in utter solitude. Indiana never settled down and so has no a children or wife.  You look Mr. Jones in the eyes, hold his hand and promise him that you will deliver the hidden cash, as instructed.

Three days later, Mr. Jones dies. That same day, a young lady from the local orphanage approaches you and asks if you might be able to help her out. The orphanage she is in charge of is in desperate need of funds and many children’s lives will be greatly improved if only you could help her make its funding goal of $2 million happen. So far, no one has contributed to the fund, winter is coming, the furnace is broken and no funds are available to fix it. The orphanage’s roof is leaking badly and they have been having toxic mould issues which have resulted in many illnesses and the death of a young Mr. Oliver Twist. “Please sir” says the lady, “2 million dollars would greatly improve the happiness, and lesson the pain, of these poor, retched children.”

What do you do? Why? 

Conclusion

Do you find Bentham’s account of morality persuasive? If correct, Utilitarianism (a form of “consequentialism”) has far reaching implications for normative ethics. What is right, in any situation, is determined solely by reference to what good the intended action is likely to produce, and by how many people that good will be enjoyed by. Many radical results flow from this sort of calculation - not least of all because Utilitarian answers to moral dilemmas often scrape up against our basic intuition that some things are just plain wrong - no matter what the consequences. Whatever the case, it is clear that Utilitarianism, as a system of moral and ethical reasoning, has had far-reaching effects. It’s a simple, calculating, and persuasive theory and its impact on questions as diverse as ‘how to deal with terrorism’, or ‘how to effectively deliver healthcare in a resource-limited, finite system’, is clearly visible. But, what do you think?

T. David Marshall

[1] Mill, John Stuart. Utilitarianism (1863) at chapter 2, page 2
[2] This is what Mill spends a fair amount of time disputing in his work, Utilitarianism, Chapter 2 (your reading for this week).