Kenneth
Goodpaster makes it clear in his article, On Being Morally
Considerable, that in order for
we rational beings to offer moral consideration toward other beings,
it need not be necessary that the beneficiary of our generosity be
rational or sentient. This notion may come as great shock to some
given that much of the theoretical progress made on environmental
ethics concerns moral obligations toward non-human animals on the
grounds that animals are sentient. For the animal liberation
movement, this has been a good theoretical framework in which to
advance their politics. However, Goodpaster feels that even this is
too restrictive, and there are more participants in our world other
than human and animal. Our ethical scope must come to include more
entities than previously considered, and he believes that the primary
component to being the beneficiary of moral considerability is life.
While I do not disagree that life in itself can make any entity who
has it worthy of consideration, cannot the scope be stretched to
include the non-living as well? I aim to show that while Goodpaster
makes light of an arbitrary mapping at the hands of other theorists
in the ethical field, he himself does not step out from the shadow of
such arbitrary prose.
It's important to note that his reasons for criticizing prior
theories involve the view that such theories are not as rational as
they could be if their framework were to include all those who live
under the eyes of moral consideration, which is why they are deemed
arbitrary; they abruptly stop when there is more ground to be
covered. It is this sudden halt that Goodpaster finds irrational.
What I wish to impose is that he is no more or less irrational than
those he criticizes, and in doing so suggest that the use of reason
is one of the most popular means to disguise arbitrariness as
progress. This is not to be a slight against Goodpaster, I actually
find his text quite likeable. If anything, he assists me in the
notion that moral consideration is less dependent on reason, and more
so on care and effort.
To
start, I will give an overview of Goodpaster's view, including his
response to some objections. Afterward I will present my own
criticism and response. As mentioned from the start, Goodpaster is
challenging the notion that either rationality, and/or sentience, be
the necessary requirements for any entity to be the beneficiary of
moral consideration; being alive is the plausible non-arbitrary
criterion (while he italicized “being alive”, I chose otherwise
for the purposes of my thesis). He immediately follows this claim up
with a distinction between moral rights and
moral considerability.
The former is something he defines indefinitely but perceives it as
something that is narrow in scope as it applies only to humans. While
he does not consent to this view of rights, he shifts his focus on
moral consideration, the view that while non-human entities may not
have rights, this still does not prevent them from being considered
in matters of moral treatment. An additional dichotomy he quickly
mentions is between consideration and moral significance.
The latter is thought to pertain to comparative judgments that mean
to express a moral priority between competing cases of consideration.
The simple example used is whether one should offer more
consideration toward a dog than a tree.
Moral
rights and significance are both important concerns, but they are not
what Goodpaster wants to focus on. He seems to express an
epistemological doubt towards rights and significance, an important
factor for his responses to objections later. While he implies that
non-human entities should fit into both categories, he finds it best
to establish that they do in fact fall into the jurisdiction of
consideration, perhaps the only category that eludes the above
mentioned doubt. This is so because an entity that is alive in any
way falls into such jurisdiction. It should be obvious that there are
many types of life-forms
other than animal and human. Plants and insects are to name a few.
Our planet is heavily coated with living entities, and Goodpaster
observes two views that mean to limit our scope of consideration. The
first is a Kantian view that restricts consideration to rational
human persons. This is quickly dismissed in that children and the
mentally disabled are not included in such a view. Next is Warnock's
notion of potentiality, granting consideration to those humans who
posses the potential for rationality. From this we should note that
the mentally disabled may still not make the cut, and that it should
take more than potentiality to give reason for consideration.
Goodpaster proceeds to indicate the move toward sentience as the
attribute that determines the scope of consideration and makes
mention of a crucial aspect in the theoretical framework of this (and
possibly all) rational discourse: the object of
moral enterprise. The notion of this object is key to my criticisms
later on, but what's important to note at the moment is that each age
of rational thought to have found the object: first it was rational
human persons, but rational culture came to see this as an arbitrary
halt, and that sentience covered more ground. Goodpaster now sees the
same mistake from previous culture in the current one.
The face of sentience as the object of moral enterprise seems to
have the best reasons as its support. Singer is one of the
forerunners for said object, as he thinks there to be nothing to
consider in the absence of sentience. It may even be said that it has
come to be common sense to consider the well-being of those who have
the capacity to suffer, especially when juxtaposed against
non-sentient entities. Comfort in regards to cases of significance
appear to be growing in relation to an expanding map of
consideration. Infants, animals, and mentally disabled all make the
cut this time round, so it would seem that we have included all
possible parties under the roof of moral considerability. Not quite
yet, thinks Goodpaster, as plants, as well as a whole host of natural
life, are still the outsiders looking in. Referring back to the
previous culture in which rational humans were the sole object (and
for some today still are), it was thought crazy to extend the fence
to include non-human entities. Without going into details, times
changed, and now its thought as lunacy to extend the fence to all
life. Too much ground to cover! This is a fascinating objection, one
that Goodpaster deals with later, in that one recognizes that there
is indeed further ground. This is not the case for all, as Singer
indicates there is no more ground beyond sentience, but this
objection is to include those who believe there to be more beyond the
current fencing limits, but that our ethical plates our full enough
with sentience. Good thing for Goodpaster, and all outcast
life-forms, there are those of us who are still hungry.
To continue with the hunger metaphor, those that perceive that there
could be more ground to cover, and yet rather us remain content with
the object we have offer reasons as to if we're not full why we
should be. Goodpaster discusses Feinberg's idea of the “interest
principle”, and how it aims at assisting the object of sentience.
Although Feinberg speaks in terms of rights, Goodpaster chooses to
interpret the conditions of interest in terms of consideration. The
interest principle has two factors, the first of which is that only
beings who can be represented can receive moral consideration, and in
order to be represented one must have interests. The second is to be
a beneficiary of moral consideration one must be capable of being
benefited, and for that one must have interests. To examine interest
in regards to representation, “mere things” do not qualify: a
chair cannot be represented as being concerned over whether I sit on
it or not. However, it is in human interest that a chair be in good
condition for one to sit on. Mere things are purely instrumental to
us, nothing more, and it is not difficult to observe interests in
animals when they seem to use things to achieve ends, as a monkey
that climbs a ladder at a zoo. Examples including infants and
mentally disabled can be found just as easy, but what of plant life?
Feinberg admits that plants are not mere things in that conditions of
the environment can be good or bad for them, so he swaps terms to
save his hypothesis and substitutes “mere things” for “mindless
creatures”. This substitution implies that interests now comes in
degrees, and that only higher forms of interests ought to receive
consideration: desire, wants, aims, and other forms of more complex
consciousness.
While interests do not seem to expand the fencing, it does appear to
make it taller. Sentience alone seems to make most content with how
we position ourselves against outsiders, but with interest adding to
its muscle, the satisfaction of rational ethical conquest is all the
more apparent to everyone. Goodpaster attempts to disrupt this
comfort by giving thought to the possibility that plants have
interests, and that it should not matter what degree they come in.
Given Feinberg's shift in terms, rational humans are conveniently
placed at the highest end of the significance spectrum (we haven't
left Kant that far behind us), but Goodpaster sees no reason why we
should accept this shift, and we can easily imagine a representation
of the needs of a tree not to be bulldozed for the sake of a parking
lot. If this is so, then why resort to the life requirement?
Interests appear to do the trick if we are to examine the ways in
which, as Goodpaster observes, plants and trees maintain and heal
themselves. However, if interests did the trick, then this discussion
would be superfluous. The interests of non-sentients would already be
contained in common sense much like the well-being of sentient
entities.
Despite expressing some hesitation to link the two, Goodpaster
proceeds to discuss how our cultural dependence on the simplest type
of hedonism that has come to determine the object of moral
enterprise. He clarifies that neither the notion of sentience as the
object, nor our type of cultural hedonism, entail each other. His
claim is simply that they support each other. Given this, we are more
irrationally inclined to deny interests toward plants and trees, and
far more willing to take up Feinberg's idea of mindless creatures.
This is to be heading dangerously in the wrong direction for
Goodpaster. As mentioned before, the combined work of both sentience
and interests give support to society's sense of rational progress,
and because of which we might feel that to step out beyond this
progress would be excessive. This can be thought similar to how we
may have rejoiced at our “progress” as a society to develop
certain technologies and an ever expanding string of laws, all while
certain people were being restricted from voting (Africans and
women). While Goodpaster thinks that the prior generation was blindly
irrational, and that further progress of reason is needed, I'm more
inclined to indicate that reason might support his cause to turn the
focus on the “life principle”, but it is simultaneously reason
that keeps it from getting off the ground.
One last step before confronting my criticisms is to observe
Goodpaster's responses to possible objections. I will not include
them all, but only the ones that assist my thesis as well. The first
objection alludes back to the idea that we have not left the Kantian
concept of moral considerability entirely behind just yet. Some
suggest that to make life the object of moral enterprise is to
belittle the human status by implying that humans are no more
considerable than plants. This can viewed as connected to the Kantian
perspective because it is humans only that are belittled by this. We
are still given priority, most likely due to our propensity for
reason, or higher consciousness. After all, we're not the mindless
creatures. Overall, this is to overlook Goodpaster's aims in that
this objection is more an appeal to moral significance. He does imply
that he thinks non-human entities should have a higher status on the
significance scale, but this is too big a leap given our present
cultural disposition. He leaves significance be, and simply seeks to
include non-humans within the scope of consideration. As long as we
are able to tell the difference, then including non-humans in
consideration is not belittling.
Next
is more toward my criticisms as he entertains the objection that
extending interests to non-sentient living beings lacks any sort of
strong epistemic status. His response is simple: the same goes for
you. The notion of sentience is aided by the interest principle, but
Goodpaster is claiming that we are no more reasonably inclined to
grant interests to animals than we are to plant life. It is hardly
certain that the mentally disabled have interests as well, and yet we
are hesitant to restrict them from being morally considerable. What
is interesting about this response is that he is not claiming to have
a sound epistemological grounding, but rather that his opponents are
in the same boat. This may suggest tu quoque,
which indeed it does, but this objection/response shines the
spotlight onto the dilemma that both sides fail to see: the each
think themselves to be the last step on the path of moral progress.
Each age can be said to have thought itself the last. As I will soon
discuss, Goodpaster is not tearing down the fence, but expanding it
like those before him.
The final objection, which is just as helpful to me, is referring
back to the “too much” problem. Opponents to Goodpaster think
that if the life principle is taken seriously, then it is absurd to
think that anyone can actually live by it. There's hardly a moment
that passes in which we are not doing harm to some form of life. The
vegan, or vegetarian, who we can consider to be walking on a moral
carpet by following the object of sentience will have the rug pulled
out from underneath them. Goodpaster thinks this misinterpretation of
his disposition is similar to the problem of the first objection, and
that this is more an appeal to moral significance. Taking the life
principle seriously may be a predicament for significance, as it
should be, but not for consideration. The character of moral
consideration is more an appeal toward “sensitivity and awareness,
not for suicide”. Some may interpret this to water down his entire
position up to this point. Are we ultimately being asked to simply
have plants and trees in mind while they actively get the short end
of the stick of moral significance? Kant still has presence in the
form of his imperative!
If
this passivity is interpreted as a slight against Goodpaster, he
defends it best by claiming that a shift toward such an awareness
might help to cause a cultural reaction in the direction of better
life-respecting practices. Many Native American tribes prior to
English settlement practiced something similar to what he has in
mind. The tribes people were well aware that life came at the hands
of death, but a respect was shown towards those whom the tribe took
from. An open field might have given way to tons of buffalo, but a
hunter from the tribe saw it in himself to kill only one, or as few
as possible. Ceremonies were conducted in form of forgiveness and
apologies toward the environment used and the animals killed. This
kind of belief made the degradation of the land and its non-human
inhabitants quite difficult. However, it is this same kind of belief
that the English saw as “savage”; there was little reason
in holding prayer circles for deer, plants, and all other
non-rational bodies. The Kantian perspective would offer very little
to have prevented the buffalo massacre of the 1870s.
What is it then to establish a moral boundary, or fence as I've come
to refer to it as? Goodpaster's initial problem with the current
state is that our current fencing arrangement is too exclusive. When
we take his life principle into account this appears to cover all
possible ground does it not? Those that object with “too much”
can also recognize the arena beyond sentience, which ironically is
the inspiration behind their objection. The life principle then seems
as a truth they don't want to admit to. Then we truly are the last!
Reason has finally achieved an all encompassing conquest with the
possible acceptance of the life principle. Humans are a creative sort
though (or at least they can be), and something else can always be
thought to be the object of moral enterprise. Goodpaster criticizes
Singer concerning his idea that there is nothing beyond sentience,
but how is Goodpaster any different in saying there is nothing beyond
life (as the object)? Both considered themselves to be the last in
the age of reason. This is not to say that we cannot agree with
either Singer or Goodpaster, in various aspects I agree with both of
them. The consideration of sentience is what led me to be vegetarian,
but the life principle is what troubles me about it.
What I desire to shed light on is the notion that Goodpaster is
doing nothing different than his contemporaries and predecessor in
that he's erecting another fence. What are we barricading? Life
covers all ground does it not? No. What about non-living entities?
These can be “mere things”, as certain cultures come to place
certain values on material, man-made objects. Some Christians will
tell you that the cross around their neck is more than mere jewelry,
as with one's wedding ring. A coworker of mine once lost his wedding
ring while stocking items, came clean off. He was a manger, and while
his immediate duties called for him to attend to both product and
customers, he placed greater significance on finding his ring (which
he failed). One could respond by calling his search unfortunate, yet
irrational. Is this not similar to the settler's description of the
“savage”? The term suits them best coming from a perspective that
attributes moral considerability to rational humans alone, not trees
or wedding rings (as though no settler ever lamented over the loss of
a material item). As we discussed, this arbitrary halt has its
problems, and so we expand the field to include sentient beings, but
this excludes plants and trees. We can speak of the latter two in
terms of interest, but seeing as interest is in allegiance with
sentience, a good portion of our current culture is hesitant to
include plants and trees in matters of consideration. The life
principle oversteps this, however, and notices that neither
sentience, nor rationality, is required of entities to receive
consideration. The wedding ring, then, is just one requirement short
of making the fence.
The question then is why should the boundary stop where Goodpaster
proposes? Boundaries and fences serve two purposes: to keep things
in, and to keep things out. The dilemma is that each rational age
looks to bring new things in, but in doing so continue to leave
things out. In the process, each age believes that only the former is
occurring, but why construct a boundary if not to exclude? As
mentioned above, some believe there to be more beyond the set object
of moral enterprise, but think it best to leave things out because it
is neither possible, nor practical, to consider all. Each expansion
imposes more obligations on those who are capable of providing
benefits, and so each fence allows for some comfort. If we are to
consider the objection Goodpaster addresses concerning the epistemic
status of the object of moral enterprise, he is willing to plead a
degree of ignorance insofar as his critics are as well. What
Goodpaster shows is that each prior fence is grounded in just as much
ignorance as his is, and that our desire for comfort in rational
progress leads to an arbitrary establishment of the object. There
does not seem to be any reason to stop the fence short of non-living
entities apart from comfort.
My coworker's wedding ring does not seem to have interests, but
neither is it certain that trees and plants do as well in light of
the criticism over epistemic status. In discarding the necessity for
sentience, we do so for interests as well seeing as the latter was
meant to provide support for sentience, especially in regards to
moral significance. If trees and plants do not need interests in
order to be considered, then why exclude the ring? Let us not
overlook other non-living entities, such as the dead. There is much
that can be said about this, and the idea of how the living honor the
dead. I see nothing absurd in translating such honor in terms of
moral considerability. Many religious dispositions ascribe certain
rites to the deceased, as do the non-religious in the form of
funerals. We can definitely imagine instances of disrespect in
regards to disrupting the considerability of the dead, such as grave
robbing, interrupting funeral processions, or not holding a funeral
at all.
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