I first encountered the suggestion that empathy is, or should be, the
basis of morality in a tiny little discussion group many years ago. It
struck me as a rather odd idea, and I dismissed it glibly as lacking any
principle. And that, in summary, is what this note is about.
The
concept that empathy is important has filtered through to news
production and I see it in commentary on social issues and
decision-making. For example, this article about American social
support:
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/01/25/opinion/sunday/nicholas-kristof-wheres-the-empathy.html?action=click&contentCollection=Opinion®ion=Footer&module=MoreInSection&pgtype=article&_r=0
This
is a moving piece about a man whose life fell apart and eventually
ended early from entirely preventable causes, despite him living in a
supposedly civilised society. But its call, its title, is 'where is the
empathy?', and its final comment is asking you to have empathy for
people like the man. In this article, which is merely the most recent in
a line of reports, news items and commentaries, the link between
empathy and morality isn't so explicit. But I still think that calling
for empathy is a pernicious and ultimately counter-productive act.
First
of all, it's worth mentioning that empathy is a widely-accepted basis
for morality. Moral philosophers long ago realised that arbitrary codes
of conduct supposedly vouchsafed by God(s) are difficult to justify or
compare on that basis alone, and have sought other bases for moral
systems. The typical approach is a wonderful example of a circular
argument (begging the question): a moral philosopher has an intuition
that something is wrong, creates a moral rule that declares that this
thing is wrong in order to meet his intuition, and thereby claims to
have reached his intuition as a conclusion when actually it was a
premise.
Of course, if the moral rules all cohere then there is
indeed a system of morality that can be used, but there are innumerable
systems that are internally consistent. What most of modern philosophy
does, as far as I can tell, is to use an entirely arbitrary method of
deciding which rules to support and propose. One's own intuitions are
barely better than divine fiat, especially given that divine fiat is
basically someone else's own intuitions with some extra stories built
around them.
So I'm not in any mood to accept arguments from the supposed authority of the academic field of moral philosophy.
On
the other hand, what I'm complaining about isn't academic; it's in
popular media. I do understand the attitude that thinks that 'if only
someone understood the situation better, that person would be more
generous'. I dispute the implicit assertion that empathy is the key to
understanding, or necessary for treating someone well, or fairly. I
don't want to get into an argument about other possibilities for the
complete basis and structure of morality, so I hope to show here that
using empathy as the intuitively sensible basis leads to some
counter-intuitive results that make it internally inconsistent. It's
incoherent nonsense, and I want to demonstrate that with some examples.
Next,
let's define empathy. According to Wikipedia, it's the capacity to
understand what another person is experiencing from within the other
person's frame of reference: i.e the capacity to place oneself in
another's shoes. But I think it's popularly used to include vicariously
experiencing another's feelings. Empathy is feeling what another feels;
sympathy is understanding intellectually what another feels, or feeling
sad about the bad experiences of another person.
This contrast is
informative: people are arguing that it is emotion and not rational
thought that gives us morality. I accept that engaging people's empathy
is often an effective way to encourage good behaviour, but I don't think
that the empathy itself either justifies the behaviour or defines what
is good. It's simply a motivating force that offers no insight into how
good or bad an action is. The simple fact is that our emotions can
deceive us, just as our intuitions and instincts can be wrong.
I should have noted all the examples over the last few years, but here are some:
Spock,
in the updated Star Trek franchise, is not the main character he once
was. Whereas in the original series he was an aspirational character,
with a delicate balance struck between his powerful intellect and Kirk's
supposed leadership, creativity and ability to bluff, in the updated
film franchise we are explicitly shown that emotions trump reason; that
pure intellect is not what makes us human. I can understand why: society
has moved on, and we no longer feel as close to the barbaric past, with
a need to distinguish ourselves from it by looking to a rationalist
future. For centuries humans defined themselves by what they could do
and animals couldn't. Now we convince ourselves of superiority by
trumpeting the greatness of what we can do and our machines can't.
Further, emotions are universal: everyone experiences them, and in that
respect everyone is equal to others, whereas we do rank people by
intellect. Basing humanity on emotionality is a very democratic basis
for defining ourselves. No-one will feel inferior when we decide that
emotions are all that are required, and are superior to other aspects of
humanity. Instead of a barbaric past, people feel the need to reject a
cold, unforgiving present run by systems and machines. I would hazard a
guess that it's possible to have a warm, friendly society that
nonetheless uses reason and intellect to make decisions, but that
possibility isn't in people's minds.
So we claim that emotions are
the defining feature of humanity. And it's blatantly untrue. We named
ourselves 'homo sapiens' because we are distinct from our ancestors and
other animals because we can think. We have the most powerful minds on
the planet. Other animals quite clearly experience emotions and
instincts, but no species has proven that it can think abstractly in the
way we can. If morality, which is a different set of rules from the
state of nature, can be based on one human attribute, it must be the one
attribute that distinguishes us from the rest of nature, not one we
share with other animals.
Of course, one film doesn't
necessarily represent popular culture. What else is there? Well, we
recently had an outcry over the footballer Ched Evans who was found
guilty of rape, served his sentence and was due to return to football.
Amongst all the fuss about bad role models (this role model fuss is
mostly a waste of time; I prefer to encourage people to plough their own
furrow, or not get stuck in a rut at all, rather than imitate someone
else) I saw someone advocating empathy for the victim(s). In particular,
many commentators were angry that he continued to protest his innocence
and thought that he should not be allowed to get away with it. We were
told to think of how the victim felt that her attacker could return to
the high life with no approbation.
See the BBC summary here:
www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-30699017
I
haven't examined the details of what happened myself, but I will for
the moment assume that the courts were right, and that he did indeed
rape her. The courts found him guilty of a crime and gave him a
punishment as mandated in English law. What exactly is the problem? The
assumption is that he's a nasty man, hard to empathise with, whereas the
woman was an innocent victim. But he has served his time, as mandated
by law. Do we really want to argue that criminals should never become
part of society after an offence? That's not very fair to all the
reformed drug addicts, childhood criminals or passionate people who
genuinely regret their crimes and want to escape their past.
Of
course, a major problem seemed to be that he protests his innocence. Are
we going to make people's beliefs a crime now? I fully understand the
incredible frustration of self-righteous people who are utterly wrong. I
spent a great deal of my life with a father at home, and bullies at
school, who firmly believed (and probably believe still) that they were
the saintly heroes of the world, and their occasional experiences of
justice or sense were unfair. But our laws don't allow for thoughtcrime.
There might be some room in sentencing and parole decisions for whether
a prisoner shows genuine regret and contrition, but Mr Evans has served
his time. People who want to punish him want to break the law in a
specific case because they have heard about it, and they want to punish
someone who seems unpleasant to them. They hate the idea that he can go
back to a high-paying job and earn more than his victim. I agree that it
seems unjust that he should earn so much. But the same applies to vast
numbers of sportsmen (sportswomen don't tend to get paid much); these
are people who often demonstrate severe character flaws and show little
virtue beyond the narrow ability at sport.
Perhaps we
should change the law, or sentencing guidelines, so that rapists such as
he get more severe punishment. Perhaps we should somehow prevent
footballers, or anyone, earning thousands of times as much as an average
person. But we should not treat one man differently from all others.
That is, intuitively, unfair and unjust.
What other
examples are there? One that has come up quite regularly is debate about
cancer drugs. Cancer drugs are invariably expensive, and new ones don't
necessarily offer much. The pharmaceutical industry has run out of
ideas and has already done all the easy things to find chemicals with
major health benefits, and so it is making small changes or finding
slight variations of chemical composition in already-established drugs
to get small improvements. And it charges a lot more money for these
'new' drugs. Given concerns about publication bias or even biased
research it's not clear that even these small improvements in
effectiveness exist, but let's assume that they do.
We
regularly see news stories about an unfortunate individual with cancer
who wants some new drug but has had it refused because it is too
expensive. The NHS has a limited amount of money and must judge
cost-effectiveness. Some drugs achieve a level of effectiveness where
NICE, the organisation that makes these decisions, hasn't decreed that
the drug should never be used and allows local hospitals to decide for
themselves. So sometimes we see stories about the postcode lottery that
means that this cancer patient will suffer and/or die but others won't.
This
hyperbole is stupid, as most of these drugs merely offer a tiny extra
chance of surviving or just an extra month of life. But empathy makes
people upset at the injustice of this person missing out on life when
there are more opportunities to save the person. Empathy doesn't make us
think of all the people whose lives would be lost or who would suffer
if we took the money from their treatment in order to fund cancer care.
Because we don't see the stories of other suffering people we don't
think about how cancer drug money might alleviate their suffering,
whatever form it might take.
We also regularly see a
story about a dead or murdered child. I saw a story recently about a
runaway truck that killed a four-year-old girl and two men and injured
the girl's grandmother. The headlines and main photos were about the
young girl; the men got little captions elsewhere. One of the man had
just got married; the other had a family depending on him. But the
tragedy was apparently the death of a child barely old enough to think
clearly, with no lasting friendships, no dependents and little effort
invested in her. People die every day, but I suppose maybe one story has
to be the story to publish. So if this was the story, and all the other
deaths just happened not to be involved, why were the adults less
important? Are we sure that some human lives are more valuable than
others?
My guess, although I might be wrong, is that everyone can
empathise with the idea of a life cut short. Everyone can imagine their
own life cut short back when they were young, and the things that
they've already experienced that would not have happened. It's harder to
empathise with someone who has taken a different path in life.
Of
course, someone might say that we simply need more empathy; we need to
learn to have empathy for everyone, including those who aren't currently
in our thoughts. My examples are of empathy based on anecdote, not on
full data, but if we could be aware of all the information, empathy
would work properly. If my examples are simply cases of misplaced or
insufficient empathy, why is some people's empathy misdirected or
insufficient? If empathy needs enhancement through careful
consideration, is it not the rational consideration that is the key to
moral action, not the empathy that directed people the wrong way? If
empathy isn't working properly but is the basis for morality, how did we
define what 'working properly' is?
We defined morality first,
then saw that empathy wasn't getting there, so we saw the flaw in
relying on empathy as it currently is. That must mean that empathy isn't
the basis for morality, or it couldn't possibly give a different
result.
Not convinced yet? Let's try a different tack.
Is a dog worth more than a human life? Is a teddy bear? We can form
bonds not only with other people, but with pets and inanimate objects.
Most children have a toy or blanket that means a lot to them, and most
of us have experienced the anthropomorphisation of something, when we
ascribe it a character and feelings. We don't want to hurt the feelings
of our toy!
Some people form a bond with an invisible friend, their home, their country or an AI on the computer.
But although we feel empathy for these things, we are deceived, because
they don't experience the emotions that we feel on their behalf. A
teddy bear has no emotions, and nor does a country. If empathy is the
basis for morality, then we must value these things as if they had
emotions that they do not, simply because empathy tells us to. Of
course, if empathy needs to be tempered with thought, then, as before,
we've defined morality first, and then seen that empathy leads us to the
wrong conclusions. Yet again, it's clear that empathy does not define
morality at all; it is morality that defines what empathy we ought to be
acting on, and what we ought to feel empathy for.
Of
course, philosophers haven't got it entirely wrong. Empathy often leads
us to what seem like good actions. That's because we often define 'good'
by reference to the effects on other people, and empathy makes us value
other people's experiences. However, empathy is a blunt tool and misses
some people out, and includes some things that aren't people. In the
terms of Daniel Kahneman, empathy is 'thinking fast'; it's an
evolutionary shortcut that is often right but which sane and rational
humans should aim to replace with precise and well-defined rules.
Empathy
is a shortcut for thinking about others. Empathy is feeling about
others, and it comes naturally without any effort. That helps ensure
that people actually do it, but doesn't make it more likely to find the
truth. The amount of effort involved has no effect on being right (which
is why I didn't like the idea of having a lot of best effort prizes at
school and one actual prize). What people ought to say when touting
empathy as the key to good behaviour is courtesy, thoughtfulness or
politeness. These all involve thinking about other people. It takes
effort to think about other people, whether it's the possibility of
someone behind you on a narrow path wanting to get past or a married man
who was run over by a truck. It takes effort to be a good person, to
function in society with other people.
That's a hard message. People
want to imagine that they can breeze through life doing their own thing,
and people hate being expected to think about more things. A few extra
things to consider all the time costs a lot of effort, and I understand
that. The stress of balancing all sorts of considerations is not
proportionate to the amount of time it takes to act on those
considerations. And in crowded societies with millions of people, there
are a lot of other people to consider. It's a lot easier to cut people
up on the road because as a road-user you have the right to be using it.
It's easy to scan a news story and feel sad about another small
child... and easy to support a campaign to increase child protection as a
consequence. It's easy to bully the person who doesn't tug on your
heartstrings if it makes people laugh who you do want to impress.
It's
hard to be courteous all the time, even to faceless strangers who have
no hold on us. It's hard to grasp that perhaps children are harmed no
more often than previously, or than adults. It's hard to do cost=benefit
analyses and actively try to think of what else child protection money
might be spent on. But maybe that money will come from child healthcare
or education and isn't necessary.
I do understand all this. But
'easy' isn't 'right'. And every time a well-meaning person invokes
empathy, he's telling everyone to value feeling over thought, and he's
telling people that being right is easy; it's merely a question of
listening to your instincts. I think that choosing to be thoughtless
despite our abilities is positively wrong. Do you think?
Sunday, 1 March 2015
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Female entitlement
There is a segment of society that claims to believe in equality and fairness; and yet refuses to examine the privileges of one half of ...
-
When you want equality with those who are doing well, you might think you have a clear case. There are privileged people out there who h...
-
I was listening to a podcast about fraud in academia which resonated with me. I left academia behind, not because of any fraud that I ha...
-
Our understanding of what politics in a democracy should be like is sadly lacking. In fact, the yawning chasm between how we act and how...
No comments:
Post a Comment