The Winter of My Discontent

Total number of times people have assumed I'm gay since starting to write here: 8 and counting...

Name:
Location: Everett, Washington, United States

I am a dedicated futurist and a strong supporter of the transhumanist movement. For those who know what it means, I am usually described as a "Lawful Evil" with strong tendencies toward "Lawful Neutral." Any apparent tendencies toward the 'good' side of the spectrum can be explained by the phrase: "A rising tide lifts all boats."

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Scary thought

I have always been particularly fascinated by ethical issues involving living beings. Whether those living beings are non-human animals subjected to human oppression and torture or a human animal trying to determine whether it is morally permissible to end the life of a fetus growing inside her, issues of life and suffering have always found me to be a receptive listener and willing analyst. Particularly when dealing with issues of human life (but on rare occasions for non-human animal life) I find people coming back with the ethical equivalent of political party’s published ‘talking points’ – small soundbites of intuitively palatable moral wisdom which the public seems to absorb and digest approximately as well as they would absorb and digest a steel ball bearing. Inevitably, sometime in the discussion, someone will regurgitate the soundbite, poisoning the discussion for a frustratingly vast stretch of otherwise useful conversation.

Among the most pernicious of these moral maxims people love to parrot is ‘All life is precious!’ This little gem seems lovely on its surface, but it never seems to pass inspection by anyone who stops to look beyond the initial “Ooh… shiny!” intuitive reaction. All life is precious? If someone seriously thinks this, I’m worried about whether they understand the meaning of the terms ‘life’ and ‘precious.’

Currently in the United Kingdom, a furor is being raised over a medical decision being made by a mother with a teenaged daughter. The daughter, Katie Thorpe, appears to be severely disabled (both mentally and physically) and she cannot care for herself in any appreciable way. The mother, fearing that her daughter will soon begin menstruating has chosen to have doctors perform surgery on her daughter to remove the daughter’s uterus. The mother’s explanation is that while her daughter may not have a very high quality of life, she can at least spare her the indignity of monthly cramps, headaches, and bleeding that will cause her discomfort she is wholly unequipped to understand or deal with.

Groups which stand up for the rights of the disabled, however, are incensed. They are calling the procedure a forced sterilization of a disabled individual, and some advocates holding their position are invoking the time-honored tradition of painting their opponents as Nazis. In discussing this issue with some people who agreed that the medical procedure should be prohibited from being performed on this girl, they invoked that classical gem ‘But all life is precious, therefore we should let this little girl flower into womanhood and make her own reproductive choices.’

Now, I’m going to sidestep over my critique that the girl is wholly incapable of making any choices – whether those choices are of what to wear that day or of whether to undergo costly and invasive surgery to prevent her from becoming a reproductive adult. I’m also going to leave by the wayside the logical structure of the argument where the conclusion ‘we should let the girl [not have the surgery]’ doesn’t in any way follow from the premise that ‘All life is precious.’ Instead, I want to think about the concept of whether that first statement of ‘All life is precious’ is actually true.

Most people won’t hold the position that the statement is meant to actually include ALL life, so I’ll ignore non-human animals and plants. The statement appears to have two conceptual parts: First, there seems to be the assertion that all human lives are equally valuable, and second, there seems included the hidden statement (that would alleviate the logical error committed by my friend above who made the statement that sparked my thoughts on this matter) of ‘performing action ‘X’ which causes harm to a human on the basis of some inter-human discrimination is morally objectionable.’
Is all human life equally valuable and are inter-human discriminations morally objectionable? It seems morally palatable to say so on the surface. This intuition (whether natural or learned) is precisely what allows us to easily say that treating someone differently on the basis of their skin color, the shape of their eyes, the language that they speak, or the religion that they practice is wrong. There isn’t any reason for us to treat these groups differently. Just because someone of darker skin than I have looks different than me doesn’t mean that I can morally treat them differently than myself. It isn’t a valid line to draw across humanity since we are all the same.

And yet, to blithely assume that there are no valid lines that could be drawn across humanity, for any reason at all, seems to me to be somehow strikingly naïve. Here, of course, we aren’t discussing ‘final solutions’ or anything that terrible – we’re talking about whether another person can make medical choices on behalf of another person simply because of the latter person’s membership in some sub-set of humanity.

But let’s take a step out further into the crazy land of philosophical hypotheticals and propose a scenario that actually WILL entail the deaths of others. Does the idea that we are all equally valuable even hold up there, where we might think it to be the strongest?

Suppose that reality actually is the plot of some awful Hollywood Sci-Fi action flick (which however terrible, I’d probably still want to see it). A giant meteor is rushing toward the Earth and a scientist has managed to discover it in time to alert the world’s governments as to the immanent demise of our world. For the purposes of this scenario, suppose the meteor is so large that diverting it or blowing it up simply aren’t options. We will either leave the Earth or we will die. After getting together enormous sums of money, the world’s governments manage to construct a massive ‘Noah’s Ark’-like spaceship on which to load 1,000 humans, our accumulated knowledge, scientific equipment, and genetic samples of as many non-human animals and plants as they could accumulate. The spaceship will provide a safe home for the thousand individuals chosen to inhabit it, and they are capable of surviving the fiery holocaust to come for long enough to allow the planet’s surface to become habitable again. You are in charge of filling the available spots in the life-raft, so to speak. Who will you choose?

Of course, there will be discriminations made, and I’m sure that even an ‘All life is precious’ sort of person will be more than amenable to saying that the ship will need highly skilled people to help rebuild civilization after when the smoke clears. Doctors, engineers, metallurgists, and other trades will be needed. I don’t think that anyone would truly favor a sort of purely random lottery choice to fill the ship since you might end up with a group reminiscent of the spaceship found in Douglas Adam’s ‘Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’ series, where the spaceship sent to colonize a new world was populated only by hairdressers, advertising people, and phone-booth sanitizers. What I’m after is whether there are any appropriate physical discriminations that can, or rather should, be made when choosing who will live and who will die.

Suppose there are two engineers with identical skills and knowledge. Both would be useful for helping society to rebuild. Both would be equally capable of designing the new roads, bridges, and vehicles necessary to do the work. The only difference between them is that one of the engineers is in a wheelchair and the other has the full use of his legs and is easily mobile. However heartless it might seem, there does seem to be a plausible argument for letting the ambulatory individual onboard while sadly condemning the wheelchair-bound fellow to a terrifying death.

Assuming that all of the ‘knowledge’ or ‘craftspeople’ positions were filled and you still had another hundred spots to fill, would it be appropriate to fill one of those spots with an individual who is profoundly mentally retarded? With someone with Down’s Syndrome? To make the discrimination even more clear, would it be appropriate to fill the spot with someone who is known to have a heritable heart defect, or even someone in whose family runs poor vision necessitating the wearing of reading glasses? Given the ample supply of equivalent, but non-defective human specimens from which to choose, aren’t such discriminations morally obligated?

Naturally, when extended to absurd lengths, common moral sentiments can be found to have gaps and holes all over them. Invoking the ‘lifeboat’ situation always finds ways to strain our conventional notions of morality. The point of the exercise is rarely to point out that the lifeboat scenario holds the key to moral choices in everyday life, but rather to show that our moral statements are not nearly so absolute as we might otherwise think. Some other rule as yet unexplicated tells us where to draw the line between the lifeboat case and the easy case of whether to discriminate on the basis of skin color. Instead of invoking the rule now shown to be non-absolute, perhaps it is time to delve into the project of figuring out when it is and is not appropriate to make those discriminations. Perhaps it is time to examine the exact preciousness of the life at issue in the given case under the given circumstances to determine what the moral choice is.

It is a difficult path to walk, but it is one that I would recommend for everyone. Striving to understand how one ought to live demands more than regurgitating simplistic moral axioms and applying them to novel situations. It demands that one be willing to override the easy answer and question everything, including whether there are some times when it is morally acceptable or even obligatory to make a decision that condemns billions to a fiery grave. If it might so be acceptable or obligatory, then we need to be substantially less blase about how we go about positing the rightness or wrongness of ordering a hysterectomy on a single developmentally disabled child.

Monday, October 08, 2007

I'd like to say that I was busy saving the world, but the truth is that I was just busy.

I seem to be in the habit of going on especially long hiatuses recently. I certainly don’t intend that to be the case. I’ve always found that writing down my thoughts and publishing them in some context or other has been profoundly useful to me in straightening out the things that I think and ironing out the wrinkles in the way that I understand the world to be. Nothing can quite show you the truly horrific gaps in your reasoning or fallacious conclusions quite like having to critically examine them as you write them down. It is a simultaneously humbling experience to see your own thoughts laid so plainly in front of you and a powerfully uplifting experience to see at once how to improve your own arguments and think more coherently.

I’ve dozens of topics about which I have been meaning to write. The refusal of New York City officials to allow the Iranian President to lay a wreath at ‘Ground Zero’ for the victims who died when the towers collapsed on 9/11 galled me, especially since the predominant reason seemed to be a nebulous form of racism or religious discrimination. Iran has never been shown to have been involved in the devastation wrought that day, but the publicized opinion of New Yorkers seemed to be ‘He [the Iranian President] should be ashamed to even ask such a thing. He should go to hell.’ After all, he’s a brown person, right? And a Muslim to boot. “They” must all be guilty, right?

I meant to write about how the Iranian President was received when he came to speak at a university. Imagine such an honor! The visiting President of a foreign nation deigning to speak to a crowd of at a college? It’s fantastic. That kind of thing is a fabulous opportunity for students to meet and learn about a man who will shape the foreign policy of a whole region of the world – and who might influence the foreign policy of our own country as well. Instead of simply allowing the Iranian President to speak freely of his ideas and letting the students decide for themselves how totally screwed up (or not) he is (and he is very screwed up, let me assure you), his introduction to the assembled auditorium was filled with vitriol calling him a petty dictator and asserting that most of the visiting dignitary’s ideas were false. While it is true that many of his ideas are false, simply asserting so in such a manner runs flatly counter to the entire educational enterprise and should have been condemned for what it was: a cheap ploy to pander to the same popular anti-Muslim/racist sentiment that motivated the New Yorker’s response to the same man. (Git ‘im! He’s a brown feller what worships a demon desert-god!). If the University had desired to have their students learn from the episode instead of treating the event as a publicity stunt designed to hold a foreign Executive up for ridicule (fat chance of having other foreign leaders address our Universities now…), the University could have easily arranged for a second presentation afterwards in which historians presented the powerful and overwhelming evidence that the Holocaust most certainly did occur, or where sociologists presented the evidence which would show that Iranians are not immune from being born as homosexuals (one of the Iranian President’s more silly claims).

I’ve wanted to write about my battles with the state bureaucracy here in Washington, in which official after official gives me differing and sometimes contradictory answers to identical questions, and in which state and county agencies seem to make quite serious errors without any noticeable effort on their parts to discover the sources of those errors or remedy them in a timely fashion. For instance, I registered to vote in Washington by mailing in a form to the Secretary of State’s office. After waiting a month without receiving my voter’s registration card, I called up my local elections office who notified me that I was indeed registered to vote, but that for some unknown reason, they had simply failed to mail me a registration card. When I asked for one to be mailed, they informed me that because the primaries were starting, they’d be too busy to mail me the registration card - documentation that I needed for another government service. After the primary was completed (a month later), they said they would mail me the card they had initially forgotten to send, but that card didn’t arrive in my mailbox until a full two-weeks after they said it had been mailed to me. I know mail can sometimes be slow, but given that the elections office from which it was mailed is located within ten miles of me, I’m fairly sure that two weeks is an unreasonably long time to wait. I could have walked it to my mailbox in a minute fraction of that time…

Anyway, there have been many developments about which I have wanted to write, exploring my thoughts and feelings about them in some depth, but over the past month, I have consistently failed to ever sit down and attempt to write down my thoughts. Every time I attempted to do so, I found myself distracted.

Here’s to hoping that I can manage to set aside my attention-span issue for a moment and get back to work.