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The Moral Demands of Affluence
How much are we morally required to do to help people who are much worse off than us? Philosophers have often raised this question in assessing the plausibility of particular moral theories. But it is a pressing question whatever one's moral outlook. Any plausible moral outlook should recognize requirements of beneficence -- requirements grounded directly in other people's need for assistance. Given this, there is a forceful case for thinking that we are morally required -- not only collectively, but also as individuals -- to devote a substantial proportion of what we have to helping the poor.
One way to present this case is by means of a simple analogy: an analogy between giving money to an aid agency and rescuing a needy person directly. Part I of Garrett Cullity's book examines this analogy in detail, discussing the ways in which it is politically and metaphysically simplistic. However, there remains an important truth in the simple analogy. It is that we are morally required to help.
In one way, our world imposes a radical separation between its rich and poor inhabitants: our material circumstances are starkly different. In another way, however, it does not: the human experiences and fulfillments of rich and poor are fundamentally the same. This is an important part of the case for thinking that their welfare grounds requirements of beneficence on us to help them. But Part II shows that it is also part of the case for limiting those requirements. Drawing attention to the range of goods that ground requirements on us to help each other, Cullity argues that these requirements only make sense on the assumption that a life of a certain kind -- a life that is not restricted in an extremely demanding way -- is one that it is not wrong for us to live.
One way to present this case is by means of a simple analogy: an analogy between giving money to an aid agency and rescuing a needy person directly. Part I of Garrett Cullity's book examines this analogy in detail, discussing the ways in which it is politically and metaphysically simplistic. However, there remains an important truth in the simple analogy. It is that we are morally required to help.
In one way, our world imposes a radical separation between its rich and poor inhabitants: our material circumstances are starkly different. In another way, however, it does not: the human experiences and fulfillments of rich and poor are fundamentally the same. This is an important part of the case for thinking that their welfare grounds requirements of beneficence on us to help them. But Part II shows that it is also part of the case for limiting those requirements. Drawing attention to the range of goods that ground requirements on us to help each other, Cullity argues that these requirements only make sense on the assumption that a life of a certain kind -- a life that is not restricted in an extremely demanding way -- is one that it is not wrong for us to live.
- GenresPhilosophyEconomics
300 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2004
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
August 11, 2019
I found this book a bit of a struggle to read -- so although I rate it highly it isn't a book I think I'd actually recommend to anyone. This is not "popular science" in any meaningful way. This is a highly technical book that is written like a 200 page mathematical proof. It is written by a professional philosopher and for professional philosophers with none of the affordances that would make it approachable for a lay audience.
That said, I enjoyed it because of that same rigour & intellectual honesty.
The book sets out to answer a seemingly simple question: for those of us who live in affluence (which, on a global scale, means virtually every Westerner) what is our moral obligation to help others?
He starts with the "life saving analogy", first popularized by Peter Singer but also used by nearly every non-profit fund raiser: if we are walking down the street and we see a child drowning, are we morally obligated to help the child even though it would ruin our freshly dry-cleaned suit?
You don't need a fully developed, complicated moral philosophical system like Utilitarianism or Consequentialism to say "Yes, of course you are morally obligated to save the child! You can dry-clean the suit again!". And one of the great strengths of Cullity's work is that is independent of any such big overarching philosophy.
One thing I really liked about the book is that, instead of tearing down strawmen (which is what often happens in popular science books), Cullity actually spends nearly half the book trying to build the strongest possible case for an argument he believes is wrong. This not only signals intellectual honesty but gives you more confidence in his ultimate findings.
The crux of the book is that the "iterative approach" seems like the correct way to view things. But the "iterative approach" also generates an "extreme demand" requiring all of us to give away virtually all of our possessions so we can donate more time & money.
The iterative approach is this: You are walking to work and spot a child drowning. Are you required to save the child? Yes, definitely. After saving the child, you resume walking to work and spot another child drowning. It seems clear that you can't say "Oh, I already saved one child, so I'll let this one die." And then you see a third child, a fourth, a fifth. Eventually you've quit your job and spend all your time saving drowning children.
In the real world it would look like: Say you make $100,000 a year. No one can plausibly argue that donating $1 a year to save a life is a burden to you. So that leaves you $99,999 to live. But you still can't argue that donating $1 a year to save a life is a burden. Keep repeating the argument...eventually you've donated $10,000; $20,000; $50,000. When you're donating $70,000 a year and living off of $30,000....you still can't really argue that donating $1 to save a life is too much, can you?
Cullity's entire thesis is building this into the strongest argument possible and then showing why it is still wrong.
The end of his argument is succinct -- and doesn't let us off the hook! -- this gives you a flavor of how "technical" the book is:
What the heck is a "requirement-grounding amount"? What is a "commitment good"? What is a "non-altruistically-directed life"? Even though the book is barely 200 pages (ignoring appendices, notes, and references), it took me many weeks to read because reading just a few pages was challenging.
One thing I found refreshing was the humility that Cullity expresses during the course of the book. He will often write things like "My reason for not attempting such an account here is simply that I do not see how to derive it from the other things I have said in this book" or "And it is hard to see how doing nothing could be right." His phrasing suggests it might be possible -- he's not making a definitive statement. I liked that, in contrast to so much popular writing which is overflowing with certainty. In the conclusion he even admits that the possibility that the steps of his argument are dubious:
By the time you get to the conclusion it is, I have to admit, a bit of a let down. Cullity provides an strong argument -- and it is interesting to see how he develops it -- but the final conclusion doesn't strike me as especially controversial.
That said, I enjoyed it because of that same rigour & intellectual honesty.
The book sets out to answer a seemingly simple question: for those of us who live in affluence (which, on a global scale, means virtually every Westerner) what is our moral obligation to help others?
He starts with the "life saving analogy", first popularized by Peter Singer but also used by nearly every non-profit fund raiser: if we are walking down the street and we see a child drowning, are we morally obligated to help the child even though it would ruin our freshly dry-cleaned suit?
You don't need a fully developed, complicated moral philosophical system like Utilitarianism or Consequentialism to say "Yes, of course you are morally obligated to save the child! You can dry-clean the suit again!". And one of the great strengths of Cullity's work is that is independent of any such big overarching philosophy.
One thing I really liked about the book is that, instead of tearing down strawmen (which is what often happens in popular science books), Cullity actually spends nearly half the book trying to build the strongest possible case for an argument he believes is wrong. This not only signals intellectual honesty but gives you more confidence in his ultimate findings.
The crux of the book is that the "iterative approach" seems like the correct way to view things. But the "iterative approach" also generates an "extreme demand" requiring all of us to give away virtually all of our possessions so we can donate more time & money.
The iterative approach is this: You are walking to work and spot a child drowning. Are you required to save the child? Yes, definitely. After saving the child, you resume walking to work and spot another child drowning. It seems clear that you can't say "Oh, I already saved one child, so I'll let this one die." And then you see a third child, a fourth, a fifth. Eventually you've quit your job and spend all your time saving drowning children.
In the real world it would look like: Say you make $100,000 a year. No one can plausibly argue that donating $1 a year to save a life is a burden to you. So that leaves you $99,999 to live. But you still can't argue that donating $1 a year to save a life is a burden. Keep repeating the argument...eventually you've donated $10,000; $20,000; $50,000. When you're donating $70,000 a year and living off of $30,000....you still can't really argue that donating $1 to save a life is too much, can you?
Cullity's entire thesis is building this into the strongest argument possible and then showing why it is still wrong.
The end of his argument is succinct -- and doesn't let us off the hook! -- this gives you a flavor of how "technical" the book is:
A few pages ago I summed up the implications of my view as follows. I can justify refusing to reduce my personal spending any further when, but only when, one of the following is true:
It would deprive me of a non-altruistically-directed life.
It would worsen my life by a requirement-grounding amount.
It would deprive me of a good that is better than the alternatives by a requirement-grounding amount.
It would deprive me of a commitment good.
When we apply this as a test for morally permissible personal spending, what does it mean in practice?
What the heck is a "requirement-grounding amount"? What is a "commitment good"? What is a "non-altruistically-directed life"? Even though the book is barely 200 pages (ignoring appendices, notes, and references), it took me many weeks to read because reading just a few pages was challenging.
One thing I found refreshing was the humility that Cullity expresses during the course of the book. He will often write things like "My reason for not attempting such an account here is simply that I do not see how to derive it from the other things I have said in this book" or "And it is hard to see how doing nothing could be right." His phrasing suggests it might be possible -- he's not making a definitive statement. I liked that, in contrast to so much popular writing which is overflowing with certainty. In the conclusion he even admits that the possibility that the steps of his argument are dubious:
If my argument is controversial, it is not because it assumes a contentious starting point. Perhaps the moves it makes from that starting point—its claims about what is required if others’ interests are to provide us with compelling reasons—are dubious. I do not think so; but that is something I have to leave to the reader to judge.
By the time you get to the conclusion it is, I have to admit, a bit of a let down. Cullity provides an strong argument -- and it is interesting to see how he develops it -- but the final conclusion doesn't strike me as especially controversial.
My view could be described as a moderately demanding one. It does not yield an extremely demanding moral outlook, in the sense outlined in Chapter 5. It is revisionary, though, in a demanding direction. There are monetary sacrifices that each of us could make without depriving our lives of worthwhile achievement, enjoyment, close personal relationships, commu- nity involvement, understanding, integrity, or autonomy to any significant degree—certainly not enough to make our lives substantially worse. I have argued that it is morally wrong for us not to make them.
April 4, 2017
Fairly balanced and nicely written consideration of what moral demands there are for us to help those suffering extreme poverty. I found Cullity's arguments quite reasonable and convincing, until the point at which he said that the reason we are not required by beneficence to assist some people's interests is that those interests are undermined by some internal flaw (e.g. they are going to be used for a bad purpose). It seems a more reasonable assessment is that we are not required to assist those interests because assisting those interested will result in a net reduction in interests (e.g. fixing the gun will lead to a murder, and that murder will be more detrimental to interests overall than beneficial). Unfortunately, it seems that without accepting Cullity's account of why beneficence does not require that we further these interests, his argument for why we need not meet extreme demands of beneficence fails.
May 23, 2016
4 1/2 stars.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews