John G. Messerly's Blog, page 119

Marijuana for Anxiety

(Disclaimer – I am not a medical doctor.)

A few days ago there was an interesting article in the New York Times, “The Feel-Good Gene,” by a professor of clinical psychiatry at Weill Cornell Medical College. The author wonders why some people are predisposed to anxiety which doesn’t have obvious environmental causes, and which is thus not helped by psychotherapy.

Not surprisingly, the answer is “a genetic variation in the brain makes some people inherently less anxious, and more able to forget fearful and unpleasant experiences. This lucky genetic mutation produces higher levels of anandamide — the so-called bliss molecule and our own natural marijuana — in our brains.” Those who have this mutation are also “less likely to become addicted to marijuana and, possibly, other drugs — presumably because they don’t need the calming effects that marijuana provides.” Unfortunately only about 20% people have the mutation.

The author has found that marijuana is generally effective for patient’s anxiety, and the reasons for the this are physiological.  It turns out that marijuana targets “the endocannabinoid system [which] is closely related to the brain’s own anandamide.” And when anandamide “binds to the cannabinoid receptor, it has a calming effect … We all have anandamide, but those who have won the lucky gene have more of it because they have less of an enzyme called FAAH, which deactivates anandamide. It is a mutation in the FAAH gene that leads to more of the bliss molecule anandamide bathing the brain.”

So the evidence strongly supports that the mutation doesn’t just correlate with less anxiety, it causes people to have less anxiety. The author’s moral conclusion is that “there is more to abstinence than grit and moral fiber: Having a double dose of a gene mutation gives you a big advantage in being able to “just say no.” Of course the author notes that “… these studies should be taken to mean that biology calls all the shots … The environment plays a critical role and can sometimes even trump genetics.”

As for the use of marijuana to treat anxiety the author is skeptical.

The problem is that cannabis swamps and overpowers the brain’s cannabinoid system, and there is evidence that chronic use may not just relieve anxiety but interfere with learning and memory. What we really need is a drug that can boost anandamide — our bliss molecule — for those who are genetically disadvantaged.

Reflections – I have written recently about issues of freedom and responsibility regarding anxiety and depression. I think we can accept that many things are out of control, especially the past, while accepting that we have influence on the present and future. So I agree with the author’s claim that such diseases have a strong genetic influence.

As for marijuana, while I have never been a user myself, I disagree with the author’s conclusion. Alcohol, nicotine, antidepressants and benzodiazepines have more bad side-effects than marijuana. If we can develop drugs which make you blissful with no other side effects that’s fine, I’m a transhumanist. But in a cost-benefit analysis between the cost of the possible side effects of marijuana, and the benefits of less anxiety, marijuana would usually win. Ask yourself this. Do you want cortisol coursing through your veins? Do you want to experience life-effecting and possibly life-destroying anxiety, or feel better with some possible minor cost. I think the rational choice is clear. And while I’m at it I think nicotine gum would be a better, safer alternative than most of the above prescribed drugs.

Critique of Epictetus and Stockdale

I recently wrote about the story of James B. Stockdale, who survived as a prisoner of war with the help of the philosophy of Epictetus. Since writing that piece I came across a more negative view of Stoicism, particularly as it is embraced by the American military, in a New York Times piece, “A Crack in the Stoic’s Armor.” It was penned by Nancy  Sherman, University Professor of Philosophy at Georgetown and the first Distinguished Chair in Ethics at the U.S. Naval Academy.

Sherman notes that “In the military, even those who have never laid eyes on a page of Epictetus, still live as if they have.” In other words, many military personnel embrace the Stoic doctrine of being undisturbed by external events. In short, they tough it out as best they can to deal with various stressors. But Sherman found, after interviewing soldiers, that many wished “to let go of the Stoic armor.” They were tired of sucking it up, and wanted to deal with “feelings blocked off by idealized notions of Stoic purity and strength that leave little room for moral conflict and its painful residue.”

Even the Stoic Cicero, after losing his daughter in childbirth, said: “It is not within our power to forget or gloss over circumstances which we believe to be evil…They tear at us, buffet us, goad us, scorch us, stifle us — and you tell us to forget about them?” Many soldiers told Sherman the same thing about the experience of war. And I think many of us would benefit from removing our armor. Many tough it out until they break, trying to be good Stoics, but this helps no one. The strongest minds can be broken. At some point physiological change ensues at which point more than willpower is necessary.

Utilitarianism (Part 3–Conclusion)

(continued from yesterday’s post.)

The Problem with Consequences

The most important difficulty for utilitarianism is that it emphasizes consequences exclusively. Utilitarians claim that “the ends always justify the means,” and therefore we can do anything to maximize utility as long as the consequences are good. For example, imagine that our neighbor opens our mail every day before we get home and then meticulously closes and replaces it with such skill that we cannot tell it has been opened. He derives great satisfaction from this activity and we never find out about it. When we are out-of-town and give him the key for emergencies, he rummages through our mail and personal effects, carefully replacing them before we return. He finds these activities immensely pleasurable, we never find out, and the net utility increases. An act utilitarian says he acts morally. But isn’t there something wrong here? Should our privacy be sacrificed to the net utility?

Act utilitarians are willing to sacrifice privacy, rights, or even life itself to the net utility. Imagine a country sheriff who has been charged with finding the perpetrator of a recent homicide. The powerful elite of the town inform the sheriff that if he does not find the murderer, they will kill the inhabitants of the local American Indian reservation, since they believe an American Indian committed the crime. The sheriff has no idea who committed the murder, but he does believe that framing some innocent individual will avert the ensuing riot which will almost certainly kill hundreds of innocent people. In other words, the sheriff maximizes utility by framing an innocent victim.

Now according to an act utilitarian, this analysis is certainly correct. Nonetheless, most individuals think something is terribly mistaken with framing innocent persons. But why? If we don’t frame the innocent victim, hundreds of people will die. True, something may foul our plan. For example, someone may find out that the victim has been framed. But this just repeats a critique of utilitarianism that we never know the consequences for certain which we have already answered. All the sheriff can do is the best he can. That is all anybody can do. And remember, if we do not frame the innocent victim, the blood of hundreds of other innocent victims is on our hands.

This is a situation in which a moral theory conflicts with our moral intuition. We ordinarily assume we shouldn’t frame innocent people. But maybe that is just ordinarily? And this is an extraordinary situation. Nevertheless, most of us think something is terribly wrong here. Maybe the theory can be reformulated to handle these cases?  

8. The Problems with Rule Utilitarianism

Problems of this sort are precisely what led to the formulation of rule utilitarianism. Rule utilitarians claim that the rules “never violate a person’s privacy” or “never frame innocent persons” maximize utility compared with the rules “sometimes violate a person’s privacy” or “sometimes frame innocent persons.” But rule utilitarianism is beset by its own unique difficulties.

A first problem is whether utilitarian rules allow exceptions. To illustrate, consider that the moral rule “never kill the innocent” maximizes utility compared to the rule “always kill the innocent,” and thus a strict rule utilitarian adopts the former, from these two choices, without exceptions. But the rule “never kill the innocent except to save more innocent lives” might maximize the utility better than either of the other two rules. If it did, a  strict rule utilitarian would adopt it without exceptions. But this is not the best possible rule either. The best possible rule is “never kill innocent people except when it maximizes the utility to do so.” But if that is the best possible rule, how is rule utilitarianism any different from act utilitarianism?

The issue is further complicated by the fact that different interpretations of rule utilitarianism exist. In what we will call a strong rule utilitarianism, moral rules have no exceptions. In what we will call a weak rule utilitarianism, rules have some exceptions. The more exceptions we build into our moral rules, the weaker our version of rule utilitarianism becomes. But if we build enough exceptions into our moral rules, rule utilitarianism becomes indistinguishable from act utilitarianism.

Think about the traffic light again. A strict rule utilitarian says “do not go through traffic lights” because, compared with most other rules, this rule maximizes utility. If we compare it with the rules “go through traffic lights when you want to,” or “go through traffic lights if you’re pretty sure you won’t cause an accident,” it fares well. But compare it with the rule :”do not go through traffic lights except in situations where it maximizes the utility to do so.” A rule utilitarian should find this rule acceptable because it is the best conceivable rule. But if rule utilitarians act according to this rule, then their theory is indistinguishable from act utilitarianism.

Strong rule utilitarians can avoid this problem by not allowing exceptions to rules. They argue that if we make exceptions in individual cases, then the net utility will decrease because individuals naturally tend to be bias because they make exceptions that favor themselves. The act utilitarians counter by calling rule utilitarians superstitious “rule-worshipers.” If it maximizes the utility to do “x,” then why obey a rule that prescribes “y?” This issue could be resolved with some modified rule utilitarianism that would allow exceptions but not collapse into the situational character of act utilitarianism. The attempt to formulate such rules completely has met with mixed success.

A second problem with rule utilitarianism is that it tells us to abide by the rules that maximize the utility if generally accepted. Suppose they aren’t generally accepted? If we still abide by them we make useless sacrifices. Imagine that public television is conducting their annual fundraising campaign. A rule utilitarian reasons that if everyone abides by the rule “give what you can to public television,” the net utility will be increased. But suppose no one else contributes and public television goes broke? Then the individual that contributes has made a useless sacrifice. These objections show that many difficulties plague rule utilitarianism.

Conclusion

The two key concepts in utilitarian thinking—happiness and consequences—are problematic. Whereas deontology places moral value on something intrinsic to the agent his/her intentions utilitarianism places moral value on something extrinsic to the agent the action’s consequences in terms of happiness produced. For deontologists, the end never justifies the means; for utilitarians the end always justifies the means. Note that both theories are based on a principle. For Kant, the principle is the categorical imperative and for Mill it is the principle of utility. The ultimate principle in natural law is to promote the good or natural and in contract theory it is to do what is in our own interest. But maybe all of these theories are too formal and precise. Is there any theory of moral obligation that is less reliant on objective, abstract, moral principles and more contingent upon subjective, concrete, human experience? It is to such a theory that we now turn.

Utilitarianism (Part 2)

(continued from yesterday’s post.) (This article was reprinted in the online magazine of Institute for Ethics & Emerging Technologies, March 10, 2015. )

4. Mill and Utilitarianism

John Stuart Mill, a protegé of Bentham and Mill’s father James Mill, became the most eloquent spokesman for utilitarianism. Mill was one of the most fascinating individuals in the history of Western philosophy. A child prodigy, he studied Greek and mathematics from the age of three and read all of Plato’s dialogues in Greek by his early teens. Mill’s classic work, Utilitarianism, sets forth the major tenets of the doctrine and reformulates many of Bentham’s ideas.

In Chapter 2 of Utilitarianism, Mill noted that utilitarianism had concentrated upon the quantity of pleasure but it did not address any qualitative differences in pleasure. Mill feared the emphasis on pleasure would reduce utilitarianism to hedonism, a doctrine he considered “worthy of swine.” He argued that some pleasures are qualitatively better than others, that the “higher” mental pleasures are superior in quality to the “lower” physical pleasures. How do we know this? Those who have experienced both kinds of pleasure show a decided preference for the higher ones, Mill stated, and this demonstrates that the higher pleasures are preferable.  But are they really?

Mill admitted that nonhuman animals sometimes appear happier than human beings, but this is misleading. To paraphrase his famous quote: better an unhappy human than a happy pig; better a dissatisfied Socrates than a satisfied fool. If the fool or pig disagree, Mill continued, it is only because they have not experienced higher pleasures. The major difficulty with Mill’s view was its appeal to a standard other than happiness in order to make a distinction between kinds of happiness. But if there is another value besides happiness, then we have abandoned the idea that happiness is the only good.

In Chapter 4, Mill began by defining the desirable end of all human endeavors. The only thing desirable is happiness, and all other valuable things are only means to the end of happiness. Bentham had wavered as to whether happiness or pleasure was the only good. In this more lucid version, happiness replaced pleasure as the moral standard. In this way, Mill avoided the charge that utilitarianism is hedonism in disguise.

Mill then proceeded to offer his famous “proof” of utilitarianism. We prove that something is visible by the fact that people see it and we prove that something is audible by the fact that people hear it. In the same way “the sole evidence it is possible to produce that anything is desirable, is that people do actually desire it.” For Mill, the simple fact that people desire happiness establishes it as desirable.

Of course merely because people desire happiness, the opponents of Mill replied, does not show that it is the only desirable thing. Mill answered that other goods like virtue or wealth are really means to happiness. But his opponents pointed to another difficulty with Mill’s proof. It rests upon a confusion between what people do desire and what they ought to desire. There mere fact that people actually desire happiness does not show, so critics of utilitarianism maintained, that happiness really should be desired. But Mill maintained that no other proof of the desirability of happiness was possible than to point out the fact that humans naturally desire it.

Mill also makes it clear that only the consequences matter. You do the right thingmaximize utilityby saving your friends from drowning whether you do it for love or money. After all, the net utility is merely the sum of individual utilities, and if you are happy, all the better. Why, Mill wonders, should we do our duty if it makes us unhappy? Amarillo Slim, a famous professional poker player, expressed Mill’s position succinctly when he replied to someone who criticized his occupation: “Would the world really be better off if I was miserable pumping gas?”

Act and Rule Utilitarianism

Let us now turn to the question of whether utilitarians consider individual actions or classes of actions when deciding to maximize utility. Neither Bentham or Mill addressed this question, but contemporary philosophers have made a distinction between two types of utilitarians. Act utilitarians ask “which individual action, from the available alternatives, maximizes utility?” Rule utilitarians ask “which rule, when generally adopted, maximizes utility?” Oftentimes there is no difference between the prescriptions of the two types of utilitarians; at other times, there is a great difference. We will illustrate this basic difference with a number of examples.

Imagine that we are stopped at a red traffic light at three in the morning. Looking both ways as far as possible down the road we are about to cross, we see no cars in sight. It suddenly occurs to us that we should not remain stopped. Why? Because by running the red light we will save our mother a minutes worry, the country a little gas and pollution, and ourselves a little annoyance.  Furthermore, we will get home sooner rather than later, decreasing the possibility that we or others will be injured in an accident. The net utility will be increased by our action and so, according to an act utilitarian, we should do it.

Contemplate another example. The President has requested that we turn down our thermostats to save  heating oil. Unfortunately, our grandmother’s arthritis is aggravated by a cold apartment. We reason as follows: if grandother keeps her heat high, she will not contribute significantly to the country’s oil problem. Moreover, she will feel much better and so will we. She will be more comfortable physically, and we will not have to listen to her complain about arthritis, government corruption, or greedy oil companies. Her physical state positively affects her mood. Her good mood makes us and our family happier. An act utilitarian advises grandmother to keep her heat on high.

Finally, ponder this simple case. The sign on the college lawn says “keep off the grass.” Officials at the college have determined that the college looks better, and attracts more students, with nice lawns. Now suppose you are in a hurry to complete some task that will make you and others happier, assuming that you complete it sooner rather than later. Assume also that cutting across the lawn saves a significant amount of time. Again, act utilitarians reason that their little footprints do not make a significant difference in the appearance of the college lawn, and since we can make so many other people happy by cutting across the lawn and completing our task sooner rather than later, we should do so.

Now consider these three cases from a rule utilitarian perspective. In every case the rule utilitarian asks, “what if we made a general rule of these actions?” In other words, “what if everybody did these?” (This is the Kantian question, but Kant wants to know about the consistency, not the consequences, of rules.) Rule utilitarians want to know if rules maximize utility or bring about good consequences. Take the first case. It should be clear that if everyone disobeys traffic lights the consequences are disastrous. Given the choice between a rule that states “always obey traffic lights” or one that says “sometimes obey traffic lights,” the first rule, not the second one, maximizes utility. Rule utilitarians argue that the net utility will decrease if persons are more selective about their obedience to rules. They might begin to disobey traffic lights at 11 p.m., whenever there are no cars in sight, or whenever they think they can beat the oncoming cars!

A comparable analysis applies in the other two case. The rule, “do not turn up your thermostat to save heat for the country” maximizes utility compared with the rule, “turn up your thermostat if you’re cold despite what the President requests.” Similarly, the rule “do not walk on the grass” maximizes utility compared with the rule, “do not walk on the grass except when you are in a hurry.” Therefore, in all of these cases act and rule utilitarians prescribe different actions. Act utilitarians perform the action  that maximizes the utility, rule utilitarians act in accordance with the rule that, when generally adopted, maximizes utility. They both believe in maximizing utility but are divided as to whether the principle of utility applies to individual acts or general rules.

The issue between act and rule utilitarians revolves around the question, “is the moral life improved by practicing selective obedience to moral rules?” The act utilitarians answer in the affirmative, the rule utilitarians in the reverse. Rule utilitarians believe the moral life depends upon moral rules without which the net utility decreases. Act utilitarians believe that whether moral rules are binding or not depends upon the situation. Thus, act utilitarians treat moral rules as mere “rules of thumb,” general guidelines open to exceptions, while rule utilitarians regard moral rules as more definitive. We will look at problems for both formulations of utilitarians in a moment. Let us now look at the most general problems for utilitarianism.

6. The Problems with Happiness

A first difficulty with using happiness as the moral standard is that the concept of the net utility implies that happiness and unhappiness are measurable quantities. Otherwise, we cannot determine which actions produce the greatest net utility. Bentham elaborated a “hedonistic calculus” which measured different kinds of happiness and unhappiness according to their intensity, duration, purity, and so on. Some say that it is impossible to attach precise numerical values to different kinds of happiness and unhappiness. For example, it may be impossible to assign a numerical value to the happiness of eating ice cream compared to the happiness of reading Aristotle. Still, we can prefer one to the other, say ice cream to Aristotle, and, therefore, we do not need precise numerical calculations to reason as a utilitarian.

A second difficulty is that it may be impossible to have “interpersonal” comparisons of utility. Should we give Sue our Aristotle book or Sam our ice cream? Does Sue’s reading pleasure exceed Sam’s eating pleasure? There is no doubt that different things make different people happy. For some, reading and learning is an immense joy, for others, it is an exceptional ordeal. But we can still maximize utility. We should give Sue the book and Sam the ice cream, or if we can only do one or the other, we make our best judgment as to which action maximizes utility. Besides, we agree about many of the things that makes us happy and unhappy. Everyone is happy with some wealth, health, friends, and knowledge. Everyone becomes unhappy when they are in pain, hungry, tired, thirsty, and the like. We do not need precise interpersonal comparisons of utility to reason as a utilitarian.

Despite Mill’s proof of utilitarianism, a third difficulty concerns doubts about the overriding value of happiness. Is it more valuable than, for example, freedom or friendship? Would we sacrifice these for the net utility? We would maximize utility by dropping “happiness pills” into everyone’s drinks, but this doesn’t mean we should do it. Shouldn’t individuals be free to be unhappy? And if we believe this, isn’t that because we think freedom is a value independent of happiness? We might even refuse to take happiness pills even if given the choice, because they limit the freedom to be unhappy.

Or suppose we promise to meet a friend but, in the meantime, some little children ask us to play with them. It may be that playing with the children maximizes utility. After all, our friend is  popular and will probably make other arrangements after waiting a while. But maybe we should keep our promise. Maybe promisekeeping or the friendship it engenders are valuable independent of the total happiness. These examples suggest that happiness is not the only value.

Most contemporary utilitarians have abandoned the idea that happiness is the only value. They have retreated from claims about absolute values to claims about individual preferences. (This was Gauthier’s argument in Chapter 4.) The type of utilitarianism which argues that we should maximize an individual’s subjective preferences is called preference utilitarianism. The problem with this type of utilitarianism is that some subjective preferences might be evil.

A fourth difficulty is that  utilitarianism considers only the quantity of utility not its distribution. Should you give $100 to one needy person or $10 each to ten needy persons? The second alternative might be better even if the first one creates the most utility. Concerns with the total happiness have troubled many commentators and some have suggested that we consider the “average utility.” But this version has problems too. Do we want a society where the average income is very highsay $1,000,000but many people live in destitute poverty, or one where the average income is much lowersay $30,000but no poverty exists? In fact, the idea of the welfare state assumes that money has a diminishing utilityit doesn’t benefit the rich as much as the poorand thus the enforced government transfer of money from the rich to the poor is justified. But isn’t it possible that individuals who work hard for their money deserve it, whether or not forcefully taking it maximizes utility? This analysis reveals another fundamental difficulty with utilitarianism. Everything is sacrificed to the net utility. But should all moral acts be judged by the consequences they produce?

We’ll conclude our discussion of Mill tomorrow.

Utilitarianism (Part 1)

(This article was reprinted in the online magazine of Institute for Ethics & Emerging Technologies, March 10, 2015. )

Utilitarianism

“…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.”

Utility and Happiness

Jeremy Bentham (1748 – 1832),  who lived in London during the Industrial Revolution, was a philosopher and social reformer who wished to alleviate the period’s dreadful living conditions. Poverty, disease, overcrowding, child labor, lack of sanitation, and miserable prison and factory conditions inspired Bentham to be an agent of social reform. He graduated from Oxford at the age of fifteen and used his prodigious gifts as social critic and legal and constitutional reformer. He became the leader of a group of individuals, including James Mill (1773 – 1836) and John Stuart Mill (1806 – 1873), who espoused the principles of a moral philosophy called utilitarianism. Utilitarianism was an influential force in eighteenth and nineteenthcentury England, and Bentham personally influenced the British legislature to adopt virtually all of his proposals.

The guiding principle of Bentham’s thought was the principle of utility: human actions and social institutions should be judged right or wrong depending upon their tendency to promote the pleasure or happiness of the greatest number of people. A popular formulation of the principle is “promote the greatest happiness for the greatest number.” Bentham himself defined the principle of utility as “that principle which approves or disapproves of every action whatsoever, according to the tendency which it appears to have to augment or diminish the happiness of the party whose interest is in question.” Bentham was not clear as to whether the principle referred to the utility of individual actions or classes of actions, but he was clear “the party whose interest is in question” refers to “anything that can suffer.” Thus, utilitarianism was the first moral philosophy to give a significant place to nonhuman animals.

Utility measures the happiness or unhappiness that results from a particular action. The net utility measures the balance of the happiness over the unhappiness or, in other words, the balance of an action’s good and bad results. To compute the net utility, we subtract the unhappiness caused by an action from the happiness it causes. If an action produces more happiness than unhappiness, a positive net utility results. If it produces more unhappiness than happiness, a negative net utility results.

When deciding upon a course of action utilitarians take the following steps. First, they determine the available courses of action. Second, they add up all the happiness and unhappiness caused by each action. Third, they subtract the unhappiness from the happiness of each action resulting in the net utility. Finally, they perform that action from the available alternatives which has most net utility. (Technically, this is “act” utilitarianism, to be distinguish from another type shortly.)

If all of the available actions produce a positive net utility, or if some produce positive and some produce negative net utility, utilitarians perform the action that produces the most positive utility. If all the available actions produce a negative net utility, then they perform the one with the least negative utility. In summary, utilitarians perform that action which produces the greatest balance of happiness over unhappiness from the available alternatives. Thus, the first key concept of utilitarianism is that of maximizing utility or happiness.

It is important to note that computations of the net utility count everyone’s happiness equally. Unlike egoists, who claim that persons should maximize their own utility, utilitarians do not place their own happiness above that of others.  For example, egoism recommends that we insult others if that makes us happy, but utilitarianism does not. For utilitarians, the happiness we experience by insulting them is more than balanced by the injury they endure. Analogously, robbing banks, killing people, and not paying our taxes may make us happy, but these actions decrease the net utility. Therefore, utilitarianism does not recommend any of them.

Utilitarianism is a doctrine which grips the imagination of most twentiethcentury people. Nearly all newspaper columnists, politicians, social reformers, and ordinary citizens believe that we should “make the world a better place,” “increase social justice,” “promote the general welfare,” “establish equality,” or “create the greatest happiness for the most people.” Utilitarian thinking underlies most of these phrases, and many individuals believe they are morally obligated to increase the happiness and decrease the unhappiness in the world.

The Consequences

The second key concept of utilitarianism is that we judge moral actions by the consequences they produce. The only thing that counts in morality is the happiness and unhappiness produced by an action. In other words, according to utilitarianism, the ends justify the means. It does not matter how you do itwhat means you takeas long as you increase the net utility. In most cases, as we have already mentioned, the action that utilitarians recommend mimics the recommendations of other moral theories. For instance, given the choice of telling Sue that she looks beautiful or terrible, we would usually maximize utility by telling her the former. Similarly, given the choice of granting or denying her request for a loan, we would usually maximize utility by granting her request. However, if she will probably use the money to buy drugs, become intoxicated and then beat her children, we should deny her request. On the other hand, if Bob will use our money to feed his children, we should probably loan it to him. We should always perform that action that will, most likely, increase the happiness and decrease the misery of all involved.

Since the right action depends upon our assessment of the consequences, we must know what the consequences of our actions will be. Some object that the theory fails precisely because this is not possible. And it is true that we never know absolutely what will happen as a consequence of our action. We may think the consequence of loaning Bob some money will be to cheer him up, but he might buy a gun and commit suicide! We may think the consequence of shooting Sue will be to hurt or kill her. But her subsequent paralysis might serve as the motivation for a successful writing career! In fact, any of our minuscule choices might alter human history, but we are only responsible for consequences we can reasonably anticipate. We anticipate the consequences as best we can and proceed to act accordingly. Thus, the fact that we can never be absolutely certain of the consequences of an act does not undermine utilitarianism.

We can now summarize our discussion thus far. Moral actions are those that produce the best consequences. The best consequences are those that have the most net utility, in other words, those that increase happiness and decrease unhappiness. When calculating the net utility everyone’s interests count equally. The two key concepts of utilitarianism are happiness and consequences.

Examples of Utilitarian Reasoning

Consider this complex situation. Our teacher arrives the first day of class and makes the following announcement. “Let’s not have class all semester! We will not inform the authorities and we will keep it a secret. None of us will do any work. I will not have to teach, and you do not have to study. I will give you each an ‘A,’ and you can give me excellent teaching evaluations. All of us will be happy and the net utility  increased. Any questions? Class dismissed!” On the one hand, the action appears to maximize utility. No one has to work and no one is hurt. On the other hand, consider that the students are nursing students who need to learn the class material in order to function as competent nurses. If they do not learn the material, it is easy to see that they will be incompetent nurses. A society of incompetent nurses decreases the net utility and therefore, in this case, cancelling class decreases net utility.

Note again how utilitarianism differs from egoism. If the teacher and the students were egoists, and would rather skip class than work, there would be no class. On the contrary, utilitarians assume that the net utility dereases if no teaching and learning take place. Remember, utilitarians usually prescribe exactly what other moral theories do. They forbid killing, lying, cheating, and stealing and prescribe helping others, working hard, and doing good deeds.

However, there are times when utilitarianism prescribes more controversial actions. Consider euthanasia. The natural law tradition, which has exerted more influence on Western ethics than any other, maintains that it is wrong to intentionally kill innocent persons even if they are suffering. But suppose Joe Smith is terminally ill, in excruciating pain, and asks his wife, his trusted comrade of fifty years, to shoot him. Since he is more affected by his illness than anyone else, it is reasonable to assume the net utility will increase by his death. There will be some unhappiness caused by his deathhis wife will mournbut she would rather he die than suffer.

According to the utilitarian, if his wife shoots him as he requests, she does the moral thing. This analysis applies whether he killed himself or had his physician assist him. Here is a case in which what many of us believe to be immoral is, on utilitarian analysis, perfectly acceptable. In this case, the pain and suffering of the relevant parties determines the proper course of action for a utilitarian.

Examine some other controversial cases. Many cultures have practiced infanticide, the willful killing of innocent children. Often their rationale was that the lack of available food for all children required that the youngest and most dependent be sacrificed for the group. On a utilitarian analysis, this is perfectly acceptable because one death is preferable to many. The same kind of thinking might have justified the use of atomic weapons in World War II. Assuming the choice was between “x” number of deaths as a result of dropping atomic bombs and “4x” number of deaths as a result of a land invasion of Japan by American troops, the utilitarian choice was clear.

If other options were available that had a greater net utilitysay dropping the bomb in an unpopulated field as a show of forcethen that action should have been performed. We may object that in the case of infanticide or atomic bombs, “innocence” has a moral significance which overrides the utilitarian conclusion. But, according to the utilitarian, maximizing utility determines the proper action.

We’ll continue the discussion tomorrow.

Epictetus and Admiral James Stockdale

                                               

Admiral James Stockdale                                                                               Epictetus

In the last few days I have written about each of the three major Stoic philosophers: Seneca, Marcus Aurelius, and Epictetus. The Stoics claim that their philosophy has practical applications, and the story of James Stockdale attests to its power. While a student at Stanford, Stockdale had studied Epictetus’ Enchiridion assiduously. He would soon find out the value of those studies.

James Bond Stockdale (1923 – 2005) was a United States Navy vice admiral and one of the most-highly decorated officers in the history of the U.S. Navy. His plane was shot down over Vietnam in 1965, and he was held as a prisoner of war for seven and a half years. During his captivity he spent more than four years in solitary confinement and was repeatedly tortured—his shoulders torn from their sockets, his back broken, his legs crushed. He walked with a limp and endured other pain for the rest of his life. Stockdale wrote multiple books about detailing how the philosophy of Epictetus was the key to his survival in captivity. Those works include:

Courage Under Fire: Testing Epictetus’s Doctrines in a Laboratory of Human Behavior

A Vietnam Experience: Ten Years of Reflection

Thoughts of a Philosophical Fighter Pilot

In Love and War: The Story of a Family’s Ordeal and Sacrifice During the Vietnam Years

What Stockdale learned from Epictetus was that happiness demands that we differentiate between what is, and is not within our control. Yes, we should try to influence fate, but we can’t control it. So when fate strikes, the measure of a person is their reaction to fate. (This is reminiscent of Victor Frankl’s claim that we find meaning through our response to life.) In short, we can either accept what we can’t change or be miserable. Epictetus, like Stockdale, tells us to do the former.

He also learned the importance of seeing bad things as providing us a chance to act virtuously, instead of thinking of freedom and happiness as getting and doing whatever we want. As Epictetus says, “Do not ask things to happen as you wish, but wish them to happen as they do happen, and your life will go smoothly.”

In 1993, in a speech delivered at the Great Hall, King’s College, London, Monday, Stockdale described his thoughts immediately after his plane was hit:

After ejection … I whispered to myself: I’m leaving the world of technology and entering the world of Epictetus … as I ejected from that airplane was the understanding that a Stoic always kept separate files in his mind for (A) those things that are “up to him” and (B) those things that are “not up to him.” Another way of saying it is (A) those things that are “within his power” and (B) those things that a re “beyond his power.” Still another way of saying it is (A) those things that are within the grasp of “his Will, his Free Will” and (B) those things that are beyond it. All in category B are “external,” beyond my control, ultimately dooming me to fear and anxiety if I covet them. All in category A are up to me, within my power, within my will, and properly subjects for my total concern and involvement. They include my opinions, my aims, my aversions, my own grief, my own joy, my judgments, my attitude about what is going on, my own good, and my own evil.

Stockdale explained his “own good and your own evil” by quoting the Alexander Solzhenitsyn, who spent years in Soviet gulags. “It was only when I lay there on the rotting prison straw that I sensed within myself the first stirrings of good. Gradually it was disclosed to me that the line separating good and evil passes not between states nor between classes nor between political parties, but right through every human heart, through all human hearts.” As Stockdale puts it:

… good and evil are not just abstractions you kick around and give lectures about and attribute to this person and that. The only good and evil that means anything is right in your own heart, within your will, within your power, where it’s up to you. Enchiridion 32: “Things that are not within our own power, not without our Will, can by no means be either good or evil.” … In short, what the Stoics say is  “Work with what you have control of and you’ll have your hands full.”

Stockdale concluded his moving speech with a story about a note from a fellow prisoner that he received during his long ordeal.

 Back in my cell, after the g u a rd locked the door, I sat on my toilet bucket––where I could stealthily jettison the note if the peephole cover moved––and unfolded Hatcher’s sheet of low-grade paper toweling on which, with a rat dropping, he had printed, without comment or signature, the last verse of Ernest Henley’s poem Invictus:

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishment the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

Admiral James Stockdale and Epictetus

                                               

Admiral James Stockdale                                                                               Epictetus

In the last few days I have written about each of the three major Stoic philosophers: Seneca, Marcus Aurelius, and Epictetus. The Stoics claim that their philosophy has practical applications, and the story of James Stockdale attests to its power. While a student at Stanford, Stockdale had studied Epictetus’ Enchiridion assiduously. He would soon find out the value of those studies.

James Bond Stockdale (1923 – 2005) was a United States Navy vice admiral and one of the most-highly decorated officers in the history of the U.S. Navy. His plane was shot down over Vietnam in 1965, and he was held as a prisoner of war for seven and a half years. During his captivity he spent more than four years in solitary confinement and was repeatedly tortured—his shoulders torn from their sockets, his back broken, his legs crushed. He walked with a limp and endured other pain for the rest of his life. Stockdale wrote multiple books about detailing how the philosophy of Epictetus was the key to his survival in captivity. Those works include:

Courage Under Fire: Testing Epictetus’s Doctrines in a Laboratory of Human Behavior

A Vietnam Experience: Ten Years of Reflection

Thoughts of a Philosophical Fighter Pilot

In Love and War: The Story of a Family’s Ordeal and Sacrifice During the Vietnam Years

What Stockdale learned from Epictetus was that happiness demands that we differentiate between what is, and is not within our control. Yes, we should try to influence fate, but we can’t control it. So when fate strikes, the measure of a person is their reaction to fate. (This is reminiscent of Victor Frankl’s claim that we find meaning through our response to life.) In short, we can either accept what we can’t change or be miserable. Epictetus, like Stockdale, tells us to do the former.

He also learned the importance of seeing bad things as providing us a chance to act virtuously, instead of thinking of freedom and happiness as getting and doing whatever we want. As Epictetus says, “Do not ask things to happen as you wish, but wish them to happen as they do happen, and your life will go smoothly.”

In 1993, in a speech delivered at the Great Hall, King’s College, London, Monday, Stockdale described his thoughts immediately after his plane was hit:

After ejection … I whispered to myself: I’m leaving the world of technology and entering the world of Epictetus … as I ejected from that airplane was the understanding that a Stoic always kept separate files in his mind for (A) those things that are “up to him” and (B) those things that are “not up to him.” Another way of saying it is (A) those things that are “within his power” and (B) those things that a re “beyond his power.” Still another way of saying it is (A) those things that are within the grasp of “his Will, his Free Will” and (B) those things that are beyond it. All in category B are “external,” beyond my control, ultimately dooming me to fear and anxiety if I covet them. All in category A are up to me, within my power, within my will, and properly subjects for my total concern and involvement. They include my opinions, my aims, my aversions, my own grief, my own joy, my judgments, my attitude about what is going on, my own good, and my own evil.

Stockdale explained his “own good and your own evil” by quoting the Alexander Solzhenitsyn, who spent years in Soviet gulags. “It was only when I lay there on the rotting prison straw that I sensed within myself the first stirrings of good. Gradually it was disclosed to me that the line separating good and evil passes not between states nor between classes nor between political parties, but right through every human heart, through all human hearts.” As Stockdale puts it:

… good and evil are not just abstractions you kick around and give lectures about and attribute to this person and that. The only good and evil that means anything is right in your own heart, within your will, within your power, where it’s up to you. Enchiridion 32: “Things that are not within our own power, not without our Will, can by no means be either good or evil.” … In short, what the Stoics say is  “Work with what you have control of and you’ll have your hands full.”

Stockdale concluded his moving speech with a story about a note from a fellow prisoner that he received during his long ordeal.

 Back in my cell, after the g u a rd locked the door, I sat on my toilet bucket––where I could stealthily jettison the note if the peephole cover moved––and unfolded Hatcher’s sheet of low-grade paper toweling on which, with a rat dropping, he had printed, without comment or signature, the last verse of Ernest Henley’s poem Invictus:

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishment the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

What Is Philosophy For?

This brief video does a good job of answering its title question. It was produced by London based The School of Life which “is devoted to developing emotional intelligence through the help of culture. We address such issues as how to find fulfilling work, how to master the art of relationships, how to understand one’s past, how to achieve calm and how better to understand, and where necessary change, the world.”

The School of Life tries to bring philosophy backs to its roots—as a search for wisdom. Thus the school isn’t interested in esoteric philosophical problems, but in how philosophical insight can help us to live well. The video is divided into five parts.

1) Philosophers should ask questions about life’s meaning, and how to find inner peace.

2) Philosophers should question so-called common sense.

3) Philosophers should seek self-knowledge.

4) Philosophers should teach us how to live well.

5) Philosophers should do all of the above publicly.

Having spent more than 40 years in the academy, I can attest to the disappointment at how detached much of academic philosophy is from the concerns of life. I applaud the School of Life for its effort and I will try to continue this blog’s focus on big questions like: What does is all mean? Who am I? How do I know myself? How do I transform myself? Well, here we go.

Marcus Aurelius: A Brief Summary of The Meditations

If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment. ~ Marcus Aurelius

Statue of Marcus Aurelius on horseback in Rome.

Marcus Aurelius (121 – 180 AD) was Roman Emperor from 161 to 180, and is considered one of the most important Stoic philosophers. The Meditations: A New Translation (Modern Library) take the form of a personal notebook—they weren’t intended for publication and he called them “Writings To Myself.” They were written in Greek, even though his native tongue was Latin, and  they were probably written while Marcus was on military campaigns in central Europe, c. AD 171-175. He died, probably from the plague or cancer, on a military campaign in present day Austria. The work is divided into 12 short books.

In Book I Aurelius thanks those to whom he is indebted. He thanks his grandfather for teaching him to be candid, modest, and even-tempered; his father for teaching him to be humble, calm, and frugal; his mother for teaching him to be generous and non-materialistic; and his teachers who taught him the value of hard work, self-discipline, equanimity, rationality, humor, and tolerance. From his teachers he also learned to love practical philosophy unconcerned with metaphysics, logic and the vanity of the Sophists. He also thanks his wife for being affectionate.

In Book II Aurelius reminds us that each day we will meet some terrible people. But we have faults too, so we shouldn’t be angry with them. For we are all just bits of blood, bones and breath. Life is fleeting; our bodies will decay. As for death, it is nothing to fear; it can’t hurt us. But the most important part of us is our minds. We shouldn’t let them be slaves to selfish passions, quarrel with fate, or be anxious of the present or afraid of the future. We can’t guarantee fame or fortune, but we can keep our minds calm and free from injury, a state superior to pleasure and pain. Freedom is the control of our minds.

In Book III Aurelius tells us to be mindful of little things like cracks in a loaf of bread, the texture of figs and olives, and the expressions of wild animals—everyday things have charm. But we shouldn’t gossip, or speculate about what others say or do. Instead think and talk only of things you would not be ashamed if they were found out. Think and talk with sincerity and cheerfulness and there will be a kind of divinity within you. There is nothing more valuable than a mind pursuing truth, justice, temperance, fortitude, rationality and the like. So be resolute in pursuit of the good.

In Book IV Aurelius tells us that we can always find solitude in our own minds. And if our minds are serene, we will find peace and happiness there.  As for how others view us we have little control. But virtuous things are still virtuous whether or not they are praised. Remember our lives are ephemeral, one day we live, the next we are dead. So act virtuous, use your time well, and be cheerful. Then, when you drop from life’s tree, you will drop like a ripe fruit.

In Book V Aurelius says we should get up each morning and do good. This includes acting naturally, unconcerned about the reproach of others. And if you do good deeds don’t ask for payment or gratitude. Be satisfied with acting like a vine that bears good fruit.

In Book V Aurelius disavows revenge—better not to imitate injury. Do your duty, act righteously and be not disturbed by the rest, for in the vastness of space and time we are insignificant. Think of good things and control your mind.

In Book VII Aurelius advocates patience and tolerance. Nature works like wax, continually transforming—so be patient. People will speak ill of you no matter what you do, but be tolerant. Evil people try our patience and tolerance, but we can remain happy by controlling our response to them.

In Book VIII Aurelius argues that being disconnected from humanity is like cutting off one of your own limbs. Instead, live connected to nature and other people. No matter what you encounter maintain a moderate and controlled mind. If you are cursed by others, don’t let it affect you anymore than your cursing the spring affects the springtime.

In Books IX, X and XI Aurelius argues that we should be moderate, sincere, honest, and calm. If someone reports you are not virtuous, dispel such notions with your action and probity. And be gentle and of good humor to disarm the worst people.

In Books XII Aurelius asks why we love ourselves best, but often value the opinion of others over our own. This is a mistake. Remember too that the destiny of the greatest and worst of human beings is the same. They all turn to ashes. Do not then be proud, but be humble. Die in serenity. As Aurelius wrote from his tent far from home and never to return: “Life is warfare and a stranger’s sojourn, and after fame, oblivion.”

Reflections – I have more to learn about Stoicism, Buddhism and other practical philosophies. But I think there is a hunger today for practical philosophies of life, especially in a modern world where religious stories no longer provide comfort to so many. Tomorrow I’ll continue this investigation by talking about the point of philosophy. Shortly thereafter I’d like to discuss Admiral James Stockdale on how Epictetus helped him endure more than seven years as a prisoner of war.

Bertrand Russell: What He Believed

Readers of this blog know that Bertrand Russell (1872 – 1970) is one of my intellectual heroes. In his short volume, What I Believe (1925), he sets out views on a variety of topics including religion. Here is some of his marvelous prose:

God and immortality … find no support in science… No doubt people will continue to entertain these beliefs, because they are pleasant, just as it is pleasant to think ourselves virtuous and our enemies wicked. But for my part I cannot see any ground for either … All the evidence goes to show that what we regard as our mental life is bound up with brain structure and organized bodily energy. Therefore it is rational to suppose that mental life ceases when bodily life ceases.

Still Russell knows that rational arguments will not convince most people. “Believers in immortality will object to physiological arguments [against personal immortality] on the ground that soul and body are totally disparate … I believe this to be a metaphysical superstition. ” And Russell believes that the desire for immortality is rooted in our fear of death

Fear is the basis of religious dogma … fear of nature that gives rise to religion … we cannot prevent death … [but] immortality removes the terror from death. People who believe that when they die they will inherit eternal bliss may be expected to view death without horror …

The most accessible source for Russell’s view on religion is the classic  is the classic Why I Am Not a Christian. I would highly recommend it to readers who want to investigate these issues further.