Magazines and Newspapers

Voluntary Euthanasia - For and Against

A referendum was held in New Zealand in 2020 to decide whether to legalise voluntary euthanasia. I summarise the main arguments for and against legalisation.


Was the Revolution Justified?

In 2018, Armenia experienced a velvet revolution in which huge protests forced the resignation of the government. In this article I apply some argument from political philosophy to assess whether the revolution was justified.


Mill, Liberty, and Euthanasia

I argue that voluntary euthanasia should be legalised on the basis of the argument Mill gives for liberty in general in his essay On Liberty, 1859. Published in Philosophy Now, October/November 2015.

The article is discussed on the BioEdge website here.


When principles of democracy conflict

Published in the Bangladesh newspaper The Daily Star in October 2013, this article addresses a constitutional controversy regarding caretaker governments and tries to resolve the controversy by applying the ideas of Rousseau.


Should we be vegetarians?

Published in the Bangladesh newspaper Daily Sun in September 2012, this article discusses the ethics of vegetarianism.


The Case for Affirmative Action

Published in The Philosophersʼ Magazine, issue 32, 2005, pp.74-76. (Replies to objections in issue 33, 2006.


Clear Thinking

These were a series of newspaper columns that appeared in the Christchurch newspaper The Press in 2005. The series was called 'Clear Thinking' and won the Australasian Association of Philosophy Media Prize in 2006.

A PDF file containing photocopies of the original columns (along with some letters to the editor in response) can be seen here: Clear Thinking


When reasoning fails

(August 12, 2005)

One of the justifications given for the US's war against Iraq was a humanitarian one: Saddam Hussein was a ruthless dictator and quite apart from any risks he posed to other countries, the people of Iraq would be better off without him. The common response to this is to point out that there are plenty of other regimes with terrible human rights records, so why doesn't the US invade these countries too? Surely this shows that the humanitarian justification for the war should not be accepted. This seemingly convincing argument is actually a fallacy. Suppose I see you give $10 to charity. If I point out that there are at least a dozen other equally worthy charities, does this show that you acted wrongly? Surely not.

What if the other charities were somehow even more worthy? (Similarly, perhaps the people of Myanmar are worse off than Iraqis under Saddam were.) While it would have been better to give to the more worthy charity, this still does not show that you were wrong to give money to the less worthy charity.

What if you did not have enough money to give to the other charities? That would of course be a good excuse, but let us assume for the sake of argument that it's not true. Say someone with ample disposable income gives to charity. Pointing out that they could have given more to other charities still does not show they acted wrongly by giving to only one.

It might be thought that giving to charity is different from going to war since the latter is a life-and-death matter. But suppose John rescues a child he sees drowning in a park pond. Does John act wrongly when there are several other children also drowning in the pond, even when he knows this? What if he could have saved more but chose not to? This example and the charity case show that while it would be even better to give more to charity/ save more drowning children, it is not wrong to give only $10/ save only one child. Giving only $10 and saving only one child are better than doing nothing.

There is a general lesson to be learnt here. In arguing the rights or wrongs of any issue, consistency is generally thought of as a virtue. If in situation X the right decision is Y, then in any other situation the same as X, the right decision is also Y. But the examples above illustrate that sometimes inconsistency is better than consistency. While consistently doing the right thing is best of all, inconsistently doing right and wrong things is better than consistently doing wrong.

Translating this into the terms of the invasion of Iraq, critics of the humanitarian justification seem to assume that it would have been better for the US to refrain from war completely rather than wage war against Iraq while at the same time doing little or nothing about Myanmar, Zimbabwe, etc. But surely the reverse ranking would be better. It would be best if all unjust regimes in the world were overthrown. But the inconsistency in attacking Iraq but not other regimes which violate human rights is preferable to doing nothing at all. The failure to try to overthrow all unjust regimes in the world is not a reason to refrain from overthrowing at least one of them.


Focus on messenger misses the point

(August 26, 2005)

When National announced it would cut taxes, the reaction of many was that this was a cynical ploy to gain votes. When the US invaded Iraq, many suspected that its real motivation was narrow economic interests. When scientists insist that cloning, stem cell research, and other controversial technologies could result in therapeutic benefits, their claims are often put down as hyperbolic attempts to gain more research funding.

These reactions, if true, seem like strong criticisms but they are actually all examples of the same fallacy. Ad hominem arguments attempt to refute a claim by criticising the person who makes it rather than addressing the claim itself. In other words, these examples all tackle the player rather than the ball.

Imagine we discover that Einstein's work was motivated by a desire for everlasting fame rather than a love of knowledge. What would follow about the truth of his theory of relativity? Absolutely nothing. Surely we wouldn't think that this discovery gave us reason to reject the theory of relativity.

Imagine we discovered something similar about Nelson Mandela's struggle against apartheid. This would in no way affect the truth of his belief that the apartheid regime was an evil one that he was justified to resist.

We might revise our assessments of Einstein and Mandela as virtuous men, but these discoveries would not affect the truth of what they said.

Exactly the same point can be made against all ad hominem arguments. The question of whether taxes should be cut is independent of the motivation of whoever proposes such cuts. What the US's motivations were has no bearing on the truth or otherwise of its claim that the war against Iraq was justified. Perhaps scientists are merely trying to get research money, but it could still be the case that their research could have therapeutic benefits.

If ad hominem arguments are mistaken, why are they so common? The answer, I suggest, is that they are so easy. Take the tax cuts issue. Whether taxes should be cut is a complex question that requires weighing up many factors. These include not only questions of fact but also what principles to apply to these facts. The factual questions include: How would tax cuts affect government spending? Would cuts be made in health and education or only to ridiculous tertiary courses? The questions of principles include: Do income earners have a right to what they earn? Would tax cuts benefit the worst off in society or mainly the better off? Instead of cutting taxes, could there be a better use for the money? Since it is such a burden to have to consider all these questions before coming to a view on tax cuts, it is tempting to avoid them by focusing instead on the motives of the National party.

Why bother trying to assess the justifications for war against Iraq, its benefits and costs, when we could just say ‘but the US is only after oil'?

And what about cloning? Many people recoil at the thought of having to assess that complicated issue. Far quicker to wait for scientists to propose it and then vilify their motivations.

But assessing social and political issues is not that easy. To decide whether taxes should be cut, whether war is justified, and whether cloning should be allowed, we have to assess the merits of the issues themselves rather than the motives of their proponents.

There is one worry remaining. I've suggested that ad hominems, though fallacies, are common because those who make them are lazy. This of course sounds like an ad hominem.


The notion of economic coercion

(September 9, 2005)

The legalisation of prostitution last year saw renewed debate on this age-old issue. Among the arguments, one perennial is that most prostitutes are forced into the occupation as a result of economic circumstances. Women from poor backgrounds have few options and so can hardly be said to freely choose to become prostitutes. Hence, so the argument goes, a society that legalises prostitution is allowing a practice that forces women in dire straits to become prostitutes.

This is a particular instance of a general form of argument that appeals to the notion of ‘economic coercion.' The same form of argument is often made in other areas. The idea of allowing people to sell their blood and organs is often objected to on the same grounds, as are payments for participation in medical research. I've even heard the argument made against boxing. The concern in all these issues is the same: that the people who ‘choose' these activities would most likely be those from poor economic backgrounds.

Is this a coherent objection to these practices? One possible response is to take a more robust view of personal responsibility. Being offered a lot of money when you have very little makes something very tempting but it is hardly the same as having a gun pointed at your head. However, for the sake of argument let's set this aside and assume that prostitutes from poor economic backgrounds are in some sense forced into that occupation.

A second response is to say that rather than being an argument against prostitution, concerns about economic coercion are reasons to bring about a fairer distribution of wealth in society. If some people are so poor that they're forced to become prostitutes, sell their organs, etc then something should be done about this extreme poverty so that they will not be forced to make those decisions. Once this is done, no one will be forced into these desperate occupations.

This I think is a good answer but still leave us with the following question: given that a radical redistribution of wealth will not happen anytime soon (Labour and National are currently vying for who can pander to middle-incomes the most rather than helping the worst off in society), what should be done about prostitution, organ-selling, etc in the meantime? The economic coercion argument seems to say that since prostitution is a result of poverty, this a reason for legally prohibiting it. But that can hardly be the correct response. Many people who work in factories have few other job opportunities available to them but we wouldn't think this is a reason to prevent them from working in factories. Prohibiting prostitution would actually make would-be prostitutes worse off. Society would be saying “your economic circumstances are so bad that you are forced into option X (whether it is prostitution, organ-selling, boxing or whatever), so we are going to block option X.” But this is crazy. Surely somebody in poverty but with option X, which will allow them to make money, is better off than somebody in poverty without option X.

So why is the economic coercion argument such a common one against organ-selling, prostitution, etc? I suspect the answer is that there is an underlying belief that the people involved are forced to make decisions that are ultimately against their best interests. If economic circumstances forces a person into option X, that is bad if option X is bad for that person. This is a highly paternalistic attitude to take towards people. Society would now be saying “your economic circumstances are so bad that you are forced into option X and we know better than you that X is bad for you.”

Now this may not bother some people, since they may think that paternalism is sometimes justified. But it is not clear that it is in the cases we're examining. If one is in severe poverty it may well be perfectly rational to sell one's spare kidney for $10,000. After all, one can survive adequately well on one kidney and $10,000 can make a great deal of difference to one's quality of life. Similarly, it is far from clear that other decisions such as to become a prostitute or agree to try out a new drug for its effectiveness and side effects are irrational if the compensating rewards are large enough.

Economic circumstances may mean that people are forced into certain activities, but this is no reason to legally block those activities.


Sticking to a deal

(September 23, 2005)

The election result has left New Zealand First holding the balance of power. One of its policies is to remove all mention of the Treaty of Waitangi from New Zealand law. Such a policy is sometimes defended on the grounds that the Treaty was made so long ago that it is no longer relevant. Since the circumstances of the mid-19th century are so different to those of today how can a document from then matter to us today? This thought is sometimes reinforced by pointing out that people today are not obligated to make up for wrongs committed by their ancestors. If my great-grandfather insulted your great-grandfather, I do not owe you an apology. So how can it matter to New Zealanders today that the Treaty was not adhered to after it was signed?

This line of argument is mistaken but the response often given to it by defenders of the Treaty is equally mistaken. That response is to say that the Treaty somehow embodies principles for biculturalism that are still relevant today for regulating interaction between Maori and Pakeha. This is immediately open to the criticisms that it is far from clear what the principles embodied in the Treaty are, that figuring out what these principles are involves much creative interpretation, and that the result will be confusion and judges having too much power. And these of course are precisely the problems that New Zealand First's policy is intended to address. Even if all these difficulties could be overcome, there is still a further problem with the response: if these are good principles for Maori-Pakeha relations then what does it matter whether they are embodied in a 165-year-old treaty or not? Good principles are good principles, so even if the Treaty had never occurred the principles should be applied anyway. So what relevance is the Treaty?

In contrast to this principle-based answer, a better response to criticisms of the Treaty is to make a contract-based answer. Contracts are not merely legal arrangements, they are moral ones too. If I suddenly found myself on another planet with another being whom I do not share any legal system with, it is still possible for us to agree to help each other out and this agreement creates rights and obligations for both of us. Parties to a contract are morally bound to the terms of the contract.

Contracts also bind over time and as circumstances change. If two parties agree to exchange resources several years from now, it is no good if when the time comes one of the parties says “but that was several years ago, what does it matter today?” Part of the point of agreements is that they enable people to make arrangements that persist over time rather than having to take each day as it comes. Similarly for changed circumstances. If I agreed to give you a lift in my car I ought to do so even if something else I'd rather do instead has arisen in the meantime.

These examples all involve individuals, but associations can also be parties to contracts. A Doctor Who appreciation society might make an agreement with a Star Trek fan club to support each other so that a low-point of popularity for Star Trek during a Doctor Who revival, or vice versa, need not spell doom for either. This agreement could be long term and it remains binding even when one side perceives that it is shouldering a greater burden than the other. And the crucial point – relevant for the Treaty – is that the agreement remains even though the individual members of the clubs change over time. Members who join after the agreement was made might regret that it was ever made but they should not simply cast it aside as irrelevant.

This then is the relevance of the Treaty today. It is an agreement between several associations to establish a common authority while at the same time limit the power of that authority in certain ways. Since these associations persist over time, members of those associations today should keep to the terms of the agreement.


Arguments on a downhill slide

(October 7, 2005)

In debates on any social issue, it is not long before a slippery-slope argument is made. Such arguments take the following form: even though X in itself is not wrong, if X is allowed to occur then Y will also occur and Y is wrong.

Take the euthanasia debate. Some argue that while the terminally ill ideally should have the right to end their own lives, if society allowed this there is the danger that some people would be forced into ending their lives against their will. And that would only be the first step down a slippery slope. People might be killed without even being asked, ‘unproductive' members of society could be despatched, and who knows what other horrors could be upon us.

Slippery slope arguments are difficult to respond to for two reasons. First they appeal to consequences that are undeniably bad. No one would doubt that a society in which the frail and elderly are killed against their will would be a terrible society. Second they emphasise that no one can say for certain that those bad consequences would not occur. If euthanasia were legalised we don't know for sure what would happen and if there is some chance of the dire predictions coming true that seems a compelling case against it. Campaigners for euthanasia emphasise that it would be subjected to careful regulation, but how can we be certain that this regulation would succeed? And even if we were, those who make the slippery slope argument respond that euthanasia would bring about a change is people's beliefs such that the sanctity of life would be undermined, which no amount of regulation could prevent.

Despite these strengths, slippery slope arguments ought to be avoided. It is not enough to point out the mere possibility of something bad happening. That would rule out every conceivable change to society. It has to be shown that the bad things are likely to happen. And for this evidence must be given. Those who make slippery slope arguments are seldom forthcoming with evidence and when they are they usually select only the evidence that supports their case, conveniently ignoring the rest.

Philosopher Richard Arneson has pointed out how, in response to some proposed change to society, uncertainty about the future leads to highly speculative harms being over-exaggerated. British politicians in the Victorian ages, for example, argued that allowing divorced mothers access to their own children would bring about the downfall of the family. To allow unfounded speculative harms to outweigh the real benefits that would be done by say allowing the terminally ill to end their own lives is absurd.

Slippery slope arguments should be resisted by pointing out the clear differences in the steps on the slope. In euthanasia, there is a clear difference between the terminally ill freely choosing to end their live and people being killed against their will. In the absence of any evidence of slipperiness from one step to the next, we can be as sure as it is possible to be that society will not slide down the slope.


Religion: a barrier to clear thinking

(October 21, 2005)

For this final article in the Clear Thinking series I asked myself ‘what is the biggest obstacle to thinking clearly about social and political issues?' Several answers suggested themselves but time and again I came back to the same thing: religion. In deciding what kind of society to have and what kinds of policies government should pursue, many people take the dictates of religion to be an authoritative guide. Arguing against abortion and euthanasia by appealing to the sanctity of life given by God is but one example, but the same influence occurs in just about every imaginable topic. What we ought to do, so many people believe, depends upon what religion tells us.

Nothing could be further from the truth. What religion says is irrelevant to deciding what we ought to do.

The fallacy of grounding morality upon religion was pointed out by Plato over two thousand years ago. If we discovered that the true religion (if we knew what that was) required us to drown kittens for fun, indiscriminately shoot people, and generally be a nuisance we would not (hopefully anyway) take that as a reason to do those activities. This shows that there are independent standards for what we should do, independent that is of the dictates of religion. What makes it right or wrong for society to allow some activity does not depend on whether religion says it is okay. On the contrary, if religion says it is okay that is because it is okay for reasons independent of what religion says. In short, reason rather than religion should be our guide.

Plato's pretty convincing demonstration has been ignored by the vast majority of people in the intervening millennia. Why are appeals to religion so common? We might think that religion is not so influential today as in say the middle ages, but events of recent years seem to indicate that more and more people across the globe are letting religion be their guide about decisions for what kind of society to have as well as in personal matters.

There are, I suggest, two reasons for this.

The first is that appeals to religion are so much easier than thinking carefully about issues. Pointing to a list of ten commandments carved in stone or written in a book saves us the trouble of having to figure out for ourselves what to do or what kind of society to have.

It is no doubt true that appealing to religion is easier, but this of course does not make such appeals appropriate. To avoid difficult questions by taking the easy way out is irresponsible.

The second reason is that for many, religion provides some kind of objectivity about ethics that cannot be got any other way. Reason and argument, on this view, are merely personal opinions and such opinions are neither right or wrong, good or bad, correct or incorrect. They are just that: opinions. There are as many opinions as there are people in the world and relying on reason and argument will result in interminable disagreement. Religion on the other hand at least provides (relatively) clear guidance, and guidance from (it is hoped) someone or something who is entitled to decide.

This picture of ethics is an inaccurate one according to philosopher Derek Parfit. He suggests that due to the dominance of religion, non-religious thinking about ethics is something that has been done by only a handful of people (Plato was one) throughout history. It is one of the youngest of subjects. Hence it is no wonder that it has not yet produced clear guidelines. Expecting it to do so is like expecting primitive people of 10,000 years ago to provide clear principles of thermodynamics. To give up on reason and turn to religion is to give up far too prematurely. With more thought, reason will provide the answers that people seek in religion.

So we can be hopeful that by setting aside religion and thinking clearly about social and political issues, the prospects of arriving at reasoned consensus on those issues are good.