Skip to content

Category: Random Thoughts

A Letter to my Pro-Life Friends

I am pro-choice for the same reason you are pro-life: My ethics demand it. The difference is that instead of fixating on the well being of an unborn embryo or fetus, my moral calculus looks at the well being of adult women, the quality of life of their possible future children, and the ramifications of the policy for all of society.

Any moral decision must weigh the well being of individuals and society. To calculate this we must compare the experience of a full grown woman with that of an unconscious embryo, or vaguely conscious fetus. We also must compare quality of the lives of children born at the wrong time into the wrong circumstances compared those born at the right time in the desired circumstances. In each of these cases, I believe the pro-choice stance brings about greater happiness for all.

In short I think the quality of life is more important than the quantity of life.

At the societal level, I believe forcing a half million women to give birth to unwanted children every year produces more long term pain and suffering than allowing a half a million abortions of (largely unconscious) embryos and fetuses. In fact, I think the term pro-life is a misnomer. It is more accurately described as “pro-birth” (indeed, pro forced-birth). In my eyes a genuine “pro-life” stance would also be interested in funding children’s health care, education, and ensuring that child has clean air and water. But there is a strange inverse correlation between pro-life leanings and support for child welfare.

So just as you see my pro-choice stance as a short sighted, moral mistake perhaps motivated by selfishness or a lack of understanding of what it means to be human, I see the pro-life stance as a short sighted, moral mistake motivated by a primitive understanding of what consciousness is and what it means to be human.

FAQ

If an embryo/fetus is alive at 20 weeks, isn’t it also alive at 19 weeks (and so on)?
Life is the not issue. Bacteria is alive. The issue is the complexity and experience of the organism. For the majority of a pregnancy, an embryo or fetus is less biologically complex and has had less conscious experience than a mouse, cat, or any other full grown mammal.

What about the pain and suffering of the fetus? What could be worse than death?
Lots of things can be worse than death. I do not believe embryos to be capable of thought or experience and I believe fetuses are far less cognizant than than the typical pro-lifer imagines. Fetuses are lost naturally all the time: While this is tragic for the parents who desired that child, we have no reason to believe it is tragic to the unborn children in any way. We have no memory of life before 1 year of age, we have no reason to think fetuses posses any higher order awareness.

However I do believe fetuses in late term abortions suffer (brief) pain, and this must be calculated in my moral opinion. I am amenable to laws protecting fetuses that could be birthed viably. However, as a man, I have little insight into the mental or emotional distress this may cause a woman (Which is why I do not think men should have any say in abortion laws in any way)

Isn’t abortion murder?
It is not murder. We have different definitions of an human embryo, a human fetus, and a human. Both scientifically and legally.

Aren’t unwanted children often a blessing?
That is true, in fact, I suspect a vast majority of unwanted children likely turn out to be a blessing in many ways (I, myself, was an unplanned pregnancy). But statistics show us unwanted children are slightly more likely to be 1) abused, 2) neglected 3) born to unfit parents 4) born into poverty 5) make it less likely the mother will escape poverty 6) linger in foster care 7) Suffer all the developmental problems these factors introduce. Even if an unwanted child is just 1% more likely to be abused or neglected, that translates into 5000 abused children each year. I believe a life time of abuse of even just one child produces more suffering than all half million abortions in any given year.

And as for blessings. Parents are free to have more children when they are ready. Most parents have a mere fraction of the children it is possible to have. We have a moral obligation to make the lives of the children they do have the best they can possibly be and this means birthing them into desired circumstances.

Isn’t there a waiting list for adoptions?
There is for healthy white babies. Currently, hundreds of thousands of unwanted children are languishing in foster care – It’s currently not feasible to add a half a million unwanted children a year (20% of all children born) to that equation. But more to the point, I simply do not value the quantity of life over the quality of life. In an overpopulated world I see little intrinsic good in forcing birth. The only argument that could sway me would be one that stated the value of keeping the embryo/fetus alive is greater than the well being of the woman for the 9 months of gestation. For previously stated reasons, I do not think it is.

What about the Bible?
First of all I do not recognize the moral authority of a book written by primitive cultures. However, even if I did, the Bible makes almost no mention of abortion and certainly does not equate it with murder. According to the Bible, the penalty for killing a woman’s unborn child by force (against her will) is paying a fine to her husband. Other verses in the bible suggests life begins at at the “first breath”, and a king recommends the drinking of “bitter water” (thought to induce miscarriage) as a test to see if a child belongs to a husband. Furthermore, 10-20 percent of pregnancies end in miscarriage. If God exists, he is the largest abortion provider on Earth.The notion that abortion is murder and Christians must oppose it was created wholesale by right wing political operatives to drive people to the voting booth (google the history of the pro-life movement) It is routinely abused by the most corrupt political charlatans (including the one in office right now)

No matter what we call it, (embryo, fetus, or human) it has a soul doesn’t it? This give it value beyond its flesh.
I think the word “soul” is useful in describing something difficult to put words. It is a useful word for our emotional selves, a poetic term for consciousness. But I see no reason to postulate that this exists independent of our body. However this is totally irrelevant because I do think brains exist, and I think they are capable of everything others feel souls are capable of: Love, heartache, joy, serenity, bravery, etc… So my ethical decision does not change whether or not these capabilities originate from something physical or something non-physical.

The most common retort I hear to this is one that is conveniently unprovable: That brains die and souls are immortal. I’m not sure how adding an immortal soul (that is unharmed by an abortion) to the equation makes ending a pregnancy more of a moral outrage. I suppose the idea is to imbue a fetus with fully formed personality and intellect and thus make it seem more like murder. In order for me to believe this, I would have to see something a soul can do that a brain cannot. It can’t speak at 6 months. It has no memories before the age of 2. It is not emotionally mature at the age of 6. Likewise, if the soul is the seat of our consciousness, it seems to deteriorate along with our brain, as it can no longer recognize loved ones when senility hits. Is there any quality of the “soul” that is not perfectly congruent with that of the brain? And if not, why postulate its existence at all?

As for life after death, what if I told you that when a baby is aborted that the soul does not go to heaven but instead moves into the next conceived child – thus it does not miss out on life at all? I have no proof of this, but I assure you it is true and demand you take it into account when creating our laws. Does this sound ridiculous? Now you know exactly how I feel when you tell me fetuses are imbued with souls at the moment of conception and fly away to heaven upon death and live for eternity. We can both make up rules all day about things we cannot see or prove, it’s not going to get us anywhere. (If you feel I grabbed the above example out of thin air, recall over a billion humans believe in reincarnation)

Harris and Dennett’s Freewill Debate

When we speak of free will it is good to discern between two separate ideas:

1) Free will independent of physical world. (commonly referred to as libertarian freewill)

2) Human choice and decision making.

Both compatibilists and determinists agree the first of these does not exist and the second one does.

However, they disagree on the definition of the word “free will”. Determinists believe the term “free will” refers to the first phenomena: action independent of the physical world. Compatibilists believe the term “free will” refers to the 2nd phenomena: human choice and decision making.

I believe the term has traditionally referred to the first of these phenomena, for why else would the debate between determinism and free will even exist? No one would claim humans do not make decisions (our brains evolved specifically to make increasingly better decisions). The insight of determinism is that the choices and decisions we make are ultimately determined, hence the term determinism.

Thus, I feel the term compatibilism is misleading. It suggests they’ve made some great insight that the traditional notion of free will (libertarian freewill) is compatible with determinism. it is not.

That said, a good case can be made that the term “free will” is better defined as our capacity to make decisions. In fact, this use of the word is more congruent with common speech (we say we have free will all the time). But if compatibilists wish to adopt that definition, they ought to call themselves revisionists not compatibalists as they have simply revised the traditional definition of free will in this debate to be compatible with determinism.

The Moral Landscape

Sam Harris’ The Moral Landscape shows us how science and reason are the most effective tools to maximize our aggregate happiness and well-being. This argument should be fairly straight forward to an atheist. However, Harris never truly addresses the more basic moral question: To what degree should we value humanity’s aggregate happiness? Especially when it in inversely correlated with our personal happiness and well being.

This is the more basic moral question Harris ignores: “To what degree should I sacrifice my own happiness to create more happiness for others?” This is the question people grapple with when they decide whether or not to give aid to those in need, reduce their carbon footprint or avoid factory-farmed meat. What does one owe the world? Should we forgo the luxury trim on our new car when there are hungry people on the other side of the world? Should we allow the less fortunate into our country if they are ultimately a drain on our resources?

These questions lie at the heart of moral inquiry. They are, at their core, a debate between selfishness and selflessness. Harris ignores them so he can focus on the easier question: How to maximize well being. This is, indeed, a question well fit for science to answer. But unless we are sold on the idea of self sacrifice, it won’t matter.

Religions have, for generations, suggested that self-sacrifice is in our best interest because it can gain the favor of the creator of the universe, if not on Earth, then in the afterlife. Harris needs to make the case that these religions are not necessary motivators. He needs to show why self-sacrifice is, in the long term, in one’s own self interest, even when there is no arbiter in the sky doling out reward and punishment or magic Karma that will recompense your kindness.

So, for clarity’s sake, let’s break down our moral argument into two questions:

The Basic Moral Question: To what degree (if at all) should we sacrifice our own current happiness and well being for others (i.e., the happiness of friends, strangers, and future generations)

Only once we determine this balance between selfishness and selflessness can we ask the more advanced moral question:

The Advanced Moral Question: What is the best way to maximize humanity’s happiness?

Harris leapfrogs the basic moral question (the why of morality) and answers the advanced one (the how of morality).

The Basic Moral Question

In order to show that science and reason can answer the basic moral question without appealing to any supernatural laws or beings, we must convince people that it’s ultimately in their own self-interest to be concerned with the happiness of others. This argument is quite easy when it comes to the manner in which we treat those in close proximity to us, but becomes more difficult the the more removed we are from consciousness beings by geography and time. So let us break the question down into three steps, starting with the most obvious and building from there:

Part 1: Should we be concerned with the happiness of our friends?
Part 2: Should we be concerned with the happiness of strangers?
Part 3: Should we be concerned with the happiness of all of humanity (including future generations)

Part 1: Should we be concerned with the happiness of our friends?

Let us start by accepting the theologian’s accusation: Without God or some kind of supernatural authority, there is no moral truth, nor any moral obligations, thus any attempt to govern others’ behavior is merely a debate between what you want and what I want.

We will accept this as true: Humans act in their own self interest. Furthermore, we must admit that it is often the case that our immediate wants and desires are diametrically opposed to that of our neighbors. For instance, I might want to steal my neighbor’s wallet, and my neighbor might want to steal mine. Absent of universal laws handed down from above this may quickly devolve into a nasty fight.

And it often does exactly that, especially if one party is larger or stronger than the other and can easily overpower them. Of course, if I were to physically overpower my neighbor, it may motivate them to acquire a weapon of some sort to gain the upper hand. To combat this, I can procure a more powerful weapon. I could even hire thugs with machine guns to protect my house and storm his house at night, to which he may respond by poisoning my water. It wouldn’t be long until we were engaged in an endless stream of hiring mercenaries, installing security systems, and constantly looking over our shoulders.

Fortunately, most people have the foresight to realize this and develop a contract of sorts, one that says, “I’m not going to steal your wallet if you won’t steal mine.” It’s a win-win agreement, and given enough judicious foresight, it’s clear that it’s in both parties’ self-interest to join in such contract. It’s also an important illustration to show how eschewing our own immediate selfish desires can ultimately increase our own happiness. This is why it’s important to evaluate the long-term consequences of our actions. To put it simply, it is in our long-term self-interest to take the interest of our friends and neighbors into account.

Countless philosophers have made this basic argument, but it is illustrated perhaps most convincingly by science, specifically the science of game theory employed in computer simulation (See Rapoport, Axelrod, Trivers). Its truth is relatively beyond dispute: Those humans that engage in reciprocally altruistic relationships with the neighbors fare better than those that don’t. People who make friends have greater well being than those who make enemies. It’s a truth so basic that it’s literally written into our genes; we evolved with a natural inclination to be friendly. We need not do any quick calculation of reciprocal altruism to lend a helping hand; it comes quite naturally.

Part 2: Should we be concerned with the happiness of strangers?

It may be obvious that it’s in our best interest to play fair with our neighbors, but it is less obvious that we should play fair with strangers: Those whom we will never see again and have no immediate means of reciprocating our kindness.

For instance, suppose I am alone in an alley and find a wallet with $100 inside. Why should I return it to its owner when I could easily pocket the money and no one would be the wiser? In this case, there is seemingly no downside to cheating the stranger because they cannot possibly retaliate. And while they might reward my good deed if I were to return the wallet, it is unlikely any monetary reward will be equal to or greater than the $100 I have found. If there were no god watching over me with punishment and reward at the ready, why wouldn’t I pocket the $100?

One might argue that the reputation I earn by returning the money will be worth more than $100 in the long run. This is likely true, but this answer still doesn’t satisfy, for this requires us to advertise our good deeds. Doesn’t the truly moral individual donate anonymously? We all face countless opportunities to do good or ill throughout the day, during which no one will be there to blame us for our malfeasance or credit us for our moral fortitude. Consider the decision to refrain from throwing a plastic cup out of our window when driving alone on a rural road, or returning a cart to the cart corral at 2 a.m. when no one can see you do it.

Why do I choose the moral option in each of these situations if there is no god to reward or punish my actions? The answer is quite simple: Because I want to live in a world where people return wallets, do not litter, and keep parking lots tidy. I may lose my wallet someday, and if I expect it to be returned, I must do my part in building a society of wallet returners (that means returning any wallet I find).

Whatever personal gain I may get from keeping the money will be offset by the small crack my act creates in the “trust and honesty” code of our society, or a “social contract”. The owner of the wallet will likely feel cheated and will himself be less likely to return any wallet he may find. This sets off a chain reaction of selfishness and eventually makes life worse for us all. It’s not long until anyone who loses their wallet can just kiss it goodbye. The same is true for our propensity to litter. We are more likely to toss a candy wrapper in the gutter when the streets are already teeming with trash, or leave a cart out in the parking lot when they are already strewn about.

Returning the wallet has the opposite effect: It sets off a chain reaction of selflessness and cooperation. The owner of the wallet, happy to get the wallet back, feels he can trust strangers on the street. Society has offered him the hand of cooperation, so as a loyal tit-for-tatter, he is more likely to extend a helping hand to another stranger, who is then more likely to do the same. Society becomes better for us all, and one needn’t fear dropping his wallet, because he knows it will be returned. So in the long run, we really are repaid for our selfless act. We are no longer in a reciprocal altruistic relationship with one other person, but instead we are in one with all of society. It’s a phenomenon that borders on magic.

Indeed, Eastern religions define it as such. They call it karma, the belief that good deeds may not be repaid by the beneficiaries of those good deeds but will, in fact, be repaid at some point in the future. Western religions prefer to personify this idea into an all-seeing god that doles out reciprocation for our actions (both punishment and reward). Both of these ideas frame the issue of kindness to strangers in terms of reciprocal altruism between friends (a language and motivator we evolved to understand). And while there may be insufficient evidence in your life that your good deeds are being rewarded, religions often promise you reward after death: the Eastern religions in the form of reincarnation; the Abrahamic religions in the form of an afterlife. But we need not embrace these myths (and the accompanying dogma) once we have a deep understanding of how moral behavior benefits us.

Part 3: Should we be concerned with the happiness of all of humanity (and future generations)?

We’ve established that friends can directly reciprocate our kindness, and strangers can indirectly reciprocate our kindness by maintaining a society in which we all adhere to agreed-upon behaviors. But surely we can imagine demographics that will likely never be in a position to reciprocate our kindness, like the homeless, or those starving in other nations, or those in future generations. How does the secular philosopher argue for behavior that benefits the whole of humanity?

We can start by showing how establishing “higher principles” that apply to all demographics is ultimately in our own self-interest. Here we can lean heavily on the work of moral philosophers like John Rawls, Emmanuel Kant, and John Stuart Mill. These philosophers point out that, although it might make our lives better in the short run to embrace selfishness (i.e., ignore the plight of the homeless, or even to round them up and ship them to a deserted island), this would establish a principle that may well come back to bite us, for we never know when we will find ourselves in a disadvantaged demographic. An accident might render us unable to work. An oppressive government might outlaw our sexual orientation. Unruly mobs might attack the wealthy. If we work to establish “higher principles” concerning the treatment of all humans (what Kant called “moral imperatives”), we will likely eventually find ourselves the beneficiary of said principles at some point in our lives.

But even this does not give us selfish reason to be concerned for future generations. Our kindness to future generations will never be reciprocated, even indirectly. It is true that kin selection (the original driving force of altruistic behavior in evolution) will motivate some concern for future generations; we’d like to leave a safe, prosperous world for our children, But not all adults have children. And some acts of self sacrifice do not pay for hundreds of years (being a good steward of the environment for instance). There is no guarantee our children will have children and even if they do, is a concern about one’s increasingly diluted genes in subsequent generations a feature of human psychology or a bug? Whatever the case, when we consider that humans have spent billions of dollars to create enough weaponry to destroy the world many times over but seem unwilling to commit the resources to save it, it becomes clear that evolution alone did not instill us with enough concern about future generations.

But why then, do so many exhibit a concern about the future of the world? I can think of 4 reasons.

1) The aforementioned desire to leave a safe, prosperous world for our children is present (whether or not its a feature or a bug)

2) Virtue signaling: Showing genuine concern about future generations advertises good character in the present.

3) Generosity “feels good”. This is the only explanation Harris provided, and while it is inadequate alone, it certainly does play at role in our behavior. Evolution made sure of this to encourage friendships among those that can reciprocate our kindness. Evolution also made sure that this warm glow dissipates as we move away from our inner circle of friends and towards those less likely to reciprocate our kindness — but the discerning between friends and strangers is not an exact science – after all, strangers can become friends (especially when treated with kindness). So even if we cognitively realize that future generations will never reciprocate our kindness, the emotional mechanisms in our brain can still give us something of a warm glow when we help them.

4) Humans are not skilled at imagining our non-existence (consider the myths of reincarnation and the afterlife). This is to be expected, existence is all we’ve ever known. Our reputations are so important to us during our lives that it’s easy to see how we might consider them important even after death. Particularly is one is under the impression that their consciousness will persist.

These, of course, are reasons to explain why some people are concerned about future generations, but they are not exactly arguments to convince another to be concerned. This is the task Harris purported to tackle, but ignored.