An essay on animal welfare

“the question is not, Can they reason? nor, Can they talk? but, Can they suffer?”

                                                                                         Jeremy Bentham

In the United States, 25 million land animals are killed for food each day, most of whom spent their lives suffering in horrible conditions. The lives of most farm animals can be accurately described in terms of bodily mutilation, suffocation, disease, starvation, confinement to small cages and pens, chronic pain, and perpetual darkness. Annually, the number of animals slaughtered is more than the world’s current human population (~9 billion), and that is not counting any of the farm animals in Asia, Europe, Africa, South America, or Australia (~56 billion). Aside from the fact that conventional farming practices exploit billions of animals per year, they also result in serious environmental costs. Meat production results in the release of a significant amount of CO2 and methane gases, directly contributing to the potentially disastrous effects of anthropogenic global warming.

What should we glean from such facts? Some conclude that it is simply immoral to purchase meats that are produced from "factory farms" (large farms that treat animals inhumanely). The argument is rather straightforward. Purchasing factory farmed meat indirectly supports and perpetuates unjustifiable animal suffering on a massive scale. Causing suffering without sufficient reason is immoral. Therefore, factory farming is immoral and it is immoral to support or perpetuate such practices through purchasing their animal products. 

Given that the argument is valid, with premises hard to deny, there are several ways for meat-eaters to respond to such information. One would be to disregard such news and to continue one’s prior eating practices and food shopping habits. This would consist of taking up an attitude of moral indifference and extreme selfishness. Another way to respond would be to continue one’s prior eating practices but with a guilty conscience. I think the right way to respond is to become more critical about what you buy at the grocery store. This doesn’t entail full-blown veganism, or even vegetarianism. In my view, simply purchasing less meat counts as a moral improvement. One could also support humane farming practices (e.g. local farms with pasture raised animals) by purchasing their meats, as well as switching over to vegan dairy alternatives (e.g. soy milk, vegan butter). Just like there has been an increased awareness about nutrition amongst consumers, there ought to be an increased awareness of the ethical and environmental harms associated with our diets.

The cost in changing one’s eating habits is largely a matter of inconvenience. Our grocery bills might go up, awkward conversations with friends and family will likely increase in number, and we may no longer be able to eat our favorite foods. Having to live with such inconveniences may be too psychologically or financially demanding for some individuals. But for the vast majority of individuals, in the developed world, I think the attitude of indifference is morally indefensible and blameworthy. To be clear, I am not arguing for the abolishment of meat production or that everyone should become a vegetarian or vegan. I am arguing that 1) supporting factory farmed meat production is immoral and 2) we all ought to seriously reconsider our eating habits and make some changes. For those shaking your head in disagreement, I will now run through and dismantle a number of bad arguments commonly used to defend meat eating. I will then turn to possible objections from vegans and vegetarians who may argue that my approach is way too soft. 

Objections from meat eaters

1. What about the plants?  If we worry about the interests of non-human animals on factory farms, then we have also to worry about the interests of plants. The quickest response is to say that plants do not have interests because they cannot feel pain or suffer. No serious scientist even entertains that idea. It is worth pointing out that there are even plausible instances of animals that lack such capacities (e.g. oysters and other kinds of shellfish).

2. What about being healthy? Restrictive diets do have certain disadvantages, but it does not follow that meat is essential for a healthy diet. Meats contain high amounts of protein and some contain high amounts of vitamin B-12. Protein can be found in nuts, cereal grains, beans, soy-based products (e.g. protein powder, milk), and certain vegetables. B-12 can be found in soy milk, nutritional yeast, and certain cereals. B-12 can also be acquired through taking supplements. As long as one is health conscious, vegetarian or vegan diets can be just as healthy as one containing meat.

3. Why care about animal suffering? I take it that we all do care about animal suffering. After all, humans are animals, and most of us believe that human suffering—regardless of race, sex, or intelligence—matters a great deal. We are at a point in history where we now condemn racism and sexism on the grounds that such views unjustifiably exclude the interests of certain groups from equal consideration. The philosopher Peter Singer forcefully makes the point that we ought to be consistent with this moral principle and extend it to non-human animals as well.

“our concern for others ought not to depend on what they are like, or what abilities they possess…It is on this basis that we are able to say that the fact that some people are not members of our race does not entitle us to exploit them, and similarly the fact that some people are less intelligent than others does not mean that their interests may be disregarded. But the principle also implies that the fact that beings are not members of our species does not entitle us to exploit them, and similarly the fact that other animals are less intelligent than we are does not mean that their interests may be disregarded.” (Singer 1979)

Farm animals can feel pain and suffer. Hence, farm animals have interests that we need to consider; they have an interest not to undergo pain and suffering. If one accepts the principle of equal consideration of interests, but denies its extension to non-human animals, one must demonstrate where the morally relevant difference lies. One might point towards a difference in intelligence, but we do not accept this as a morally relevant factor in the case of human beings. If two human beings are suffering, we ought to try and help both, not ignore the one who is less intelligent. A refusal or inability to point out a relevant difference may indicate implicit speciesism (analogous to sexism or racism) or just an inability to articulate what they take the difference to be.

4. Animals kill each other all of time. Why is it wrong for us to do the same?

This point can be made in several other ways. Some argue for a kind of Darwinian ethics and that ‘survival of the fittest’ should be our moral slogan. To make such a claim is to commit the rather well known naturalistic fallacy. It does not logically follow that if something is natural that makes it good, safe, or morally acceptable. It also seems to derive an ought from an is; a direct violation of Hume’s law. Just because the world is a certain way, doesn't mean that it ought to be that way. A third issue is that it holds all animals to the same moral standard. The idea is that, if it’s morally acceptable for a lion to kill a gazelle, then it’s okay for a human to do so. There are at least two relevant differences between lions and humans. First, lions, like most non-human animals, do not have an understanding of right and wrong. Second, lions, unlike humans, are carnivores and need to consume some meat to be healthy. Given that most humans can reflect upon the moral status of their actions and are not living in the wilderness hunting for their survival, there is no comparison to the situation of the lion. Humans can choose to eat meat. It is a further moral consideration of whether or not they should. 

5. What about the majority of your peers who disagree with you?
I think they’re wrong. Just because a majority of the population believes something doesn’t make it true. One ought to believe things based on valid arguments and evidence, not through appealing to popular opinion. At one time, the majority of the population believed the Earth was flat. In that instance, the false belief was due to scientific ignorance. Perhaps an even better example, just a couple hundred years ago, most believed that slavery was morally permissible. And it’s not like beliefs about slavery changed overnight. It took a long time for people to realize their moral shortcomings. I think the same is true in the case of the mistreatment of non-human animals, only, that it may take even longer for people to accept such conclusions, given the role that animal products have played in our diets and cultural traditions throughout history. 

6. What about the rich culinary traditions from around the world that use animal products? Are you really suggesting no more Thanksgiving or BBQs?
It’s not clear that we will in fact lose such traditions. The development of lab-grown meats and meat/dairy alternatives may gradually come to replace farm-based animal products. For those skeptical, try some of the meatfree options (e.g. TVP, vegan orange "chicken") at a local Trader Joe’s or Whole Foods. Depending on how it is prepared, the taste of texturized vegetable protein (TVP) can be indistinguishable from ground beef. But even if we did have to give up some of our beloved recipes and traditions, would that constitute a moral reason in favor of meat production? It sounds like more of an aesthetic reason, one that should be weighed against the interests of the animals. Reflecting upon the consumption of a burger, what is more important? The well being of the animal used to make it, or the few minutes of human nourishment and pleasure derived from its consumption?

7. Aren’t you a man? Perhaps this isn’t an argument intended to be serious but, rather, a knee-jerk defense mechanism against moral criticism. Taken seriously, it seems to imply that actively participating in the exploitation of billions of conscious creatures is some kind of initiation ritual in becoming a “real man”. Even if this were true, there would still be grounds for criticism. If that’s what it takes to be a “real man”, why would anyone with a respectable moral character take the idea seriously? Anyways, doing what’s morally right seems to trump concerns of lower social status amongst some of our male peers.

8. I saw you eating a burger the other day! It’s true that, as of 2016, I eat meat, but my current eating habits are fairly consistent with everything I have said so far. I have recently reduced my overall intake of meat and have switched over to a number of dairy/meat alternatives. The majority of my meals are now vegetarian. If I had a bigger budget, I would buy meat from local farms and buy cage-free eggs on a regular basis. I’m far from perfect, but it’s a start.

Objection from vegans

1. Everyone should be a vegan. How can you defend even occasional meat eating? Ethical vegans abstain completely from purchasing or eating meat altogether, largely due to animal welfare concerns. While I sympathize with their attitudes regarding factory-farmed meats, I disagree with their assessment of various alternatives. If farm animals live a decent life and are slaughtered in a way that involves no pain or suffering, I don’t see much wrong with killing such animals for food. In fact, it could be argued that such lives would be preferable to not existing at all, an option many vegans seem to prefer. Secondly, going to the grocery store is not the only way to acquire meats. I think that hunting for food, provided that the hunter has an accurate shot, can be morally acceptable. Especially in cases where a region suffers from an overpopulation of animals, such as deer or wild pigs. Since the alternative modes of death for such animals would be starvation, predation, or collision with a car, taking a bullet may be one of the best ways to go.

If we are to make progress on improving the lives of non-human animals, we need to start off slow. Expressing moral superiority or condescension towards friends and family will likely be counterproductive in aims of spreading awareness and changing behavior. We should instead encourage and praise ethically motivated changes in behavior regardless of far it is from moral perfection.

There are reasons to be optimistic. Just recently, Perdue Farms have agreed to make serious changes to the living conditions and slaughtering practices of their chickens. This is significant because 7% of all factory-farmed meat in the United States comes from Perdue Farms. Due to consumer demand, other farms may end up following Perdue's lead. It is not clear when Perdue will implement its new guidelines (could take years), but the fact that they have announced such plans is still good news. 

To end the post, I will present a checklist of simple changes we can all make to support humane farming practices and to decrease the amount of animal suffering in the world.

1)      Reflect upon the ethical and environmental consequences of your eating habits.

2)      Switch from dairy to soy milk (same with butter).

3)      Try some of the meat alternatives (Some are tasty!).

4)      Cut back meat consumption, your heart will thank you too! (e.g. meatless Mondays).

5)      If you can afford it, buy meats and animal products from farms that humanely raise their animals, or look for wild caught meats (e.g. wild boar, deer). A good place to buy your meats would be from Whole Foods. All of their meats come from non-factory farms. They even have a rating system (1-5 stars) to inform you of the specific ethical guidelines followed by the farms. A 5 star rating means that the animals are pasture raised, humanely transported to the slaughterhouse (i.e. they're not crammed into a truck and driven several hours away), and humanely slaughtered. 

6)      When going out to eat, try restaurants that purchase meats from local farms (They typically disclose such information on their websites. Likely to only find these in the city, though).

7)      Read Peter Singer’s book “Animal Liberation” or recommend it to a friend.

Works cited

Singer, P. (1979). Practical ethics. 1993. New York.

            

An essay on abortion

Within the context of politics, the abortion debate is usually framed as having two sides: pro-life and pro-choice. Those who are pro-life believe that abortions are immoral. Pro-choice is the view that a woman should have the right to decide the outcome of the fetus, and that at least some abortions are morally permissible. Note that the pro-life view seems to make an absolute claim about abortion, namely, that it is always objectionable, though, some who consider themselves pro-life allow for a few exceptions to the rule (e.g. rape, incest). The pro-choice view is committed to a far weaker claim; there are some instances of morally acceptable abortions. Making broad moral generalizations about the practice of abortion would require one to ignore the fact that abortions involve a highly diverse set of circumstances that may make a difference to the moral evaluation of any given procedure. In order to make a well-informed moral evaluation of abortion, as a practice, one must consider all of the morally relevant details. I will argue that the vast majority of abortions (in the United States) are morally acceptable but that some late-term abortions are morally objectionable.

I think there are at least three broad kinds of moral difference makers when it comes to abortion. First, there is the fetal stage of development. Second, there is the type of procedure (relevant in how much harm it involves). Lastly, the health and well-being of the fetus and the mother. I must first set some groundwork defending the, perhaps, most controversial claim, that the stage of fetal development is morally relevant.

Human life is said to have intrinsic moral worth. That is to say, human lives have a certain kind of moral value that a rock or chair does not. Some believe that God bestowed souls or moral qualities upon us that give us a natural right to life. This is known as the sanctity of life view. On this view, all humans—no matter what stage of development—have equal moral value. Humans have a right to life, and it is simply wrong to kill them. An alternative view, which I shall call the developmental approach, argues that humans have moral worth because of certain mental capacities and features, and that these features emerge at different stages of development. At perhaps the earliest stage, creatures acquire the capacity to feel pain and to experience pleasure. It is at this stage where creatures begin to have interests (e.g. avoid pain and suffering) and when it becomes wrong to harm them. Later on in development, creatures acquire more complex psychological traits such as self-awareness, the capacity to form life narratives and long-term goals, the formation of complex social bonds, and an understanding of morality. Philosophers call creatures that possess such features persons. Persons have a far greater number of interests than do creatures lacking personhood, making it morally worse to do them harm. For instance, persons may have an interest in self-survival and in cultivating one’s abilities.

The sanctity of life view is not plausible because it is overcommitting and too restrictive. While it may sound intuitive to say that ‘it is always wrong to kill or end the life of an innocent human being’ there are some widely agreed upon exceptions to the rule. Anencephalic infants—which are born missing most of their brain—are not conscious beings. Their life expectancy is typically between several hours to a few days; at most, a few months. Few—on both sides of the debate—accept that it is wrong to end the life of a human with anencephaly. A second exception is the case of an adult human who lapses into a permanent vegetative state. It is commonly believed that a fully formed adult human that permanently loses all of their mental capacities, also loses their moral worth. It is not wrong to end the life of an individual in a vegetative state because there is no person to harm or stream of consciousness to end. The only subjects of harm would be their close family members, and even they, in most cases, decide to end their loved one’s life.

The sanctity of life view is also limited, as it seems to apply only to humans. It is implicitly speciesist (analogous to sexist or racist views). After all, there may be other kinds of creatures that are have as much moral worth as humans. Adult chimpanzees seem to be self-aware, possess a rudimentary sense of fairness and morality, and engage in long-term planning and complex sociality. If we were to ever run into any, we would be probably be inclined to attribute moral qualities to intelligent extra-terrestrials as well (e.g. ET, Spock).

Bearing in mind the developmental stage is relevant for making moral judgments because each stage comes with its own measure of moral worth based upon the capacities present. Personhood, I think, unfolds gradually. That is just to say that I do not think that all of the morally relevant capacities emerge at the same time. It is also the case that many of the features fall on a continuum, rather than being all-or-nothing. For instance, 10-month old children seem to possess a rudimentary understanding of moral norms and punishment. But the 10-month old’s understanding is nowhere as sophisticated as, say, a five or six year old’s understanding of moral norms. Exactly when the personhood features emerge is an empirical matter. Hence, one should take my estimations with a grain of salt. I think most would agree that it is more wrong to end the life of an adult than a young child; a young child than newborn; a newborn than 6-week old fetus. Those who hold the sanctity of life view might be inclined to agree with this, but would likely reject the idea that a fetus before 6 months lacks moral worth altogether. They might argue that while fetuses lack the features and capacities that are morally relevant, they have the potential to acquire them later in life. There is a lot more to be said about this point and I plan to take up it up in a future post. For now, the developmental view still seems to capture our intuitions about the value of human life at differing stages.

Other moral difference makers include how the abortion is performed, and the reasons for why it is performed.

When we hear of abortions, we tend to think of rather graphic surgical procedures. Those only make up 1% of abortions performed. About 25% of abortions come in the form of a pill. RU-486 is a common form of medical abortion, effective up until the second trimester. The most common form of abortion is surgical vacuum aspiration, a procedure performed when the fetus weighs less than an ounce and is only two inches tall. According to the CDC, the vast majority of abortions (92%) occur before the thirteenth week, and only 1% of abortions occur after week 22. Neuroscientists have determined that fetuses probably don’t develop the capacity to feel pain until week 26. They have determined this by looking at the development of the fetal brain. Most neuroscientists think the neocortex is involved in the processing and sensation of pain, and fetuses do not start developing neocortical regions until around week 26. Therefore, fetuses probably lack the capacity to feel pain until that time. Even if scientists are off by a wide margin (say 13 weeks), it would still be true that a majority of abortions would be morally permissible on this view. After all, if the procedure involves no fetal pain or suffering, the fetus is not harmed. One may argue that there may be other sources of harm (e.g. to society), but it is implausible to suggest that there is harm in killing the 13 week old fetus in itself.

Why do most women have abortions? A study conducted by the Guttmacher Institute found the following answers:

Rape	0.3 % (0.1-0.6 %)
Incest	0.03 % (0.01-0.1 %)
physical life of mother	0.1 % (0.01-0.2 %)
physical health of mother	0.8 % (0.1-3 %)
fetal health	0.5 % (0.1-1.0 %)
mental health of mother	?? (0.1-8 %)
elective --too young/immature/not ready for responsibility --economic --to avoid adjusting life --mother single or in poor relationship --enough children already --sex selection --selective reduction	98.3% (87-99 %) --? (32 %) --30% (25-40 %) --? (16 %) --? (12-13 %) --? (4-8 %) --0.1% (<0.1-? %) --0.1% (<0.1-0.4 %)

(Johnston 2016)

Most agree that certain circumstances absolve the mother from blame. This is true when a rare genetic abnormality is detected late (e.g. huntington’s disease, microcephaly), potential harm or death to the mother is likely, and when the pregnancy resulted from rape or incest. But it turns out that 98% of abortions are performed for elective reasons, rather than for reasons related to the health of the fetus or mother. Based on such results, one may think that most abortions are morally objectionable. But on the developmental view, this would be a mistake. We need to also consider when most of these procedures take place. As stated earlier, 99% of abortions are carried out before a fetus has the capacity to feel pain. There is limited data to draw from when determining why most late-term abortions are carried out. But Professor Diane Foster, a researcher at the Bixby Center for Reproductive Health, suspects that fetal anomalies “make up a small minority of later abortions,”. If we assume that most late term abortions are morally objectionable, we still end up with a fairly low figure for morally objectionable abortions. Put in terms of numbers, there would be approximately 7000 morally objectionable abortions carried out each year in the US. On the developmental view, these 7000 abortions would not be the moral equivalent of killing 7000 adults. It might be more like killing 7000 non-human animals (e.g. cows, chickens) a year, or 20 a day. One might object that this comparison between human and non-human fetuses is illegitimate. It may be argued that only human fetuses have the potential to realize personhood and other morally relevant properties. Therefore, human fetuses have more moral worth than non-human animals. I will not take a stand on this issue here and will simply leave it to the reader to dwell over.

In this post, I’ve defended a developmental stance on abortion against the sanctity of life doctrine. On the developmental view, the moral permissibility of an abortion depends largely on when the procedure is carried out, but there are other morally relevant factors (e.g. procedure, health of fetus/mother). Given that most abortions occur before the fetus develops any of the morally relevant features, I have argued that most abortions are morally permissible. While the sanctity of life doctrine may be popular amongst laypeople (especially those who are religious), it is not the most sophisticated anti-abortion view to hold. In a future post, I will return to the subject of abortion to take on what I take to be the strongest positions.

Further reading:

IEP encyclopedia entry on abortion

The philosopher Michael Tooley's influential article on abortion (highly recommended)

Videos:

A debate between two philosophers, Don Marquis (pro-life) and Peter Singer (pro-choice)

A discussion between Don Marquis and Michael Tooley on abortion

What Fodor got wrong: Distilling theoretical issues in philosophy of biology into plain talk

In 2011, the philosopher Jerry Fodor riled up philosophers and scientists alike with the release of a book, co-written with a cognitive psychologist, criticizing Darwin and his theory of natural selection (Fodor and Piattelli-Palmarini 2011). Fodor is a card-carrying atheist, and accepts most of what modern evolutionary biology teaches: the glaring exception being the theory of natural selection. If I read Fodor correctly, this is roughly what he argues in his book, “What Darwin got wrong”: The theory of natural selection is—by itself—empty or unexplanatory. This is because, for any two linked traits (e.g. pumping blood and thump thump noises), the theory does not tell you which was selected for. In the case of the heart, evolutionary biologists know perfectly damn well that it was selected for pumping blood (Fodor thinks even his grandma could have known that!). However, the evolutionary biologists are drawing from lots of empirical evidence and fields of study (e.g. functional biology) that fall outside the reach of the theory of natural selection. Since Darwin’s theory does not provide an answer to the selection question (i.e. pump or thump?), natural selection—understood as a scientific theory—does not account for the very phenomenon it tries to explain (i.e. the selection of traits). Fodor thinks that trying to provide a selection mechanism to save the theory is a fool’s errand, since there’s likely no such mechanism. Therefore, Fodor concludes that we should give up on the theory all together. There are two burning questions: 1) how does Fodor reach this conclusion? & 2) what is the significance of Fodor’s claim (if he’s right)?

§1: The theory of natural selection

Before I get to Fodor, I will quickly summarize some basic concepts with the aim of further illuminating Darwin’s theory. Those who are familiar with the theory can skip or skim most of this section. Darwin’s theory is predicated on two theses: 1) common descent and 2) the transmutation of species. Roughly, these state that 1) all life on earth shared a common ancestor (in the distant past) and 2) lifeforms have changed—or evolved—over time. The second thesis can be equated with evolution, understood as a natural phenomenon. The theory of natural selection aims to explain how evolution is possible. Amongst laypeople, it is commonly asked whether or not evolution is true, or whether the theory of evolution has been proven. However, both of these questions are ill-posed.

I think that the question of whether evolution is true or not commits, what philosophers call, a category mistake. If one understands evolution to be the mere phenomenon of creatures changing or evolving over time, then such a question would be akin to “Is gravity, or precipitation true?” Gravity is a natural phenomenon, one we are all familiar with. In addition, there are theories of gravity (e.g. Einstein’s general relativity theory) that explain how the phenomenon works. It would be strange to say that gravity—the phenomenon itself—is true. Likewise, it is improper to say that evolution is true. Phenomena cannot be true or false; they just occur or not and can observed or detected. The main disconnect between gravity and evolution is that virtually all of us directly observe the former but not the latter. Evolution—like other natural phenomena (e.g. formation of islands, glacial movements)—is typically too slow or subtle for most of us to notice in the real world. However, scientists observe evolution occurring (both directly and indirectly) on a regular basis (e.g. the evolution of the flu virus).

Taking up the second question—of provability—is again making a category mistake. There are no instances of proven scientific theories because they aren’t the sorts of things that can be proved. It would be like asking, “What is the marital status of a triangle?” Proofs are perhaps the standard in disciplines like mathematics, but not in science. Scientific theories perform a number of functions. Explanation is perhaps the most important role. Of explanations, we can ask whether or not they are adequate, plausible, well supported by evidence and so on. It is often remarked that “evolution is just a theory”. But this ignores the wide spectrum of theories, some of which aren’t supported at all by evidence (e.g. Dogs are cleverly disguised Martians), and our scientific theories supported by an overwhelming amount of evidence (e.g. relativity theory, quantum mechanics, plate tectonics). It would be like saying that “So and so is just a basketball player”, discounting all of the diversity of skill level that could fall under such a description. No reasonable person would lump their next door neighbor, who plays basketball for fun by himself on weekends, to an NBA hall of famer. Likewise, no reasonable person should put well-supported scientific theories into the same boat with wildly speculative and empirically unsupported theories.

The theory of natural selection is typically broken down into three key ideas that aim to explain how species evolve over time: variation, inheritance and selection. The first two ideas are fairly straightforward. First, in order for creatures to change over time, there needs to be some way for differences (e.g. anatomical) between creatures to accrue. An organism that gave birth to a carbon copy of itself would result in no species change. Second, mere trait changes would not get very far if there wasn’t a way for the offspring to inherit those changes. We now know that both variation and inheritance can be explained at the level of the gene, and that genes can be altered through random mutations which result from a number of causes (e.g. UV rays, natural sources of radiation on Earth, genetic copying mishaps). Genetic variation combined with a mechanism of inheritance (i.e. genes) provides a way for creatures to change over time.

The final piece of the puzzle is to account for why certain creatures survive and pass along their genes, while others die out. Darwin made a distinction between two kinds of solutions. The creatures can be selected (to survive) either artificially or naturally. Artificial selection is perhaps best exemplified by the evolution of the domestic dog. All domestic dogs—including the Chihuahua and Great Dane—shared a common wolf ancestor roughly 30,000 years ago (Skoglund 2015). Modern domestic dogs vary so significantly because of humans, whom artificially selected the nicest and prettiest wolves. Natural selection involves no selecting agents such as humans. Natural selection occurs by a number of means, though natural disasters (e.g. forest fires, tsunamis), disease, and predators are the big three. Typically, the creatures that survive long enough to reproduce are the ones that are best adapted to their environment. Sadly, since most environments change over time (e.g. due to climate change, asteroid impacts, etc.), most creatures will die out. Roughly 98% of all creatures that have ever existed have gone extinct. The survivors—including us humans—did not just get lucky; all extant life on the planet survived for a reason, namely, we all more-or-less inherited the traits necessary to survive in our respective environments.

§2: How Fodor gets there

The previous section laid out Darwin’s theory of natural selection in a nutshell. To make the issues more engaging, one might now imagine Fodor’s reaction after sitting in on such an overview of the theory.

Fodor: Artificial selection makes a lot of sense; it’s the natural selection part that gets me. When a dog breeder selects the dogs he wishes to breed, there is both an obvious selection mechanism at work (i.e the dog breeder) and an obvious way to determine which trait is being selected for; you just ask the guy! However, when it comes to natural selection, there is the question, for any pair of linked traits (e.g. pumping blood and thump thump noises), which gets selected for? There is first the issue of there being no human breeder (e.g. God) to interrogate, as well as the issue of what a natural selection mechanism—that picks out one trait and not the other—would even look like. In every instance where you have linked traits, it seems as if ‘nature’ has to select both. It is obvious to everyone that there is a fact of the matter about which trait is being selected for (the heart!), but there doesn’t seem to be a way for Darwin’s theory to tell us which, absent some kind of natural selection mechanism or a law of adaptation.

Upon learning about evolutionary theory, really no one (other than Fodor) raises such problems. Why is the theory so commonsensical to scientists and laypeople alike, but so incoherent to Fodor? I think there is a straightforward answer, and one that does not appeal to name-calling. Fodor has some pretty sophisticated views about the nature of scientific theories, laws and explanations. The reason why scientists don’t really engage with his claims is because they probably don’t have any well-developed views on the nature of explanation and science, both of which typically fall under the heading of ‘philosophy of science.’ The reason why most philosophers of science have not “seen the light” is because Fodor’s views on these matters are not widely held today. For example, Fodor endorses Hempel’s deductive-nomological (DN) model of explanation (Smith 2008). Without getting into the details, this view on explanation does not work very well for Darwin’s theory, an observation made well before the publication of Fodor’s book (Hempel 1965). For those uninterested in evaluating the merits of the competing philosophical views on explanation, here is an (overly simplistic) argument you might find helpful.

What Fodor says about natural selection essentially hinges on the truth of Hempel’s view on explanation. If Hempel’s view is wrong, then Fodor is wrong. According to most contemporary philosophers of science, it is doubtful that Hempel’s view works (see Strevens 2006 for an overview). Therefore, Fodor is (probably) wrong about Darwin’s theory. 

§3. What if Fodor’s right?

Given that Fodor concedes that evolutionary biologists have the tools answer the selection question, the science can proceed as it has for some time. However, I think that the scientists would have to concede that they aren’t answering the selection question via the theory of natural selection. Additionally, they would have to admit that the theory of natural selection adds nothing to their scientific understanding of selection effects. What would then become of the theory? One might think that the theory might still be perfectly useful as a metaphor for introductory purposes. Perhaps eventually, an even better metaphor might replace Darwin’s own (Fodor and Piattelli-Palmarini 2011, ch. 9). However, one might still be unimpressed with Fodor’s argument. So what if we don’t derive truths about selection effects from Darwin’s theory? Darwin laid the groundwork for fields that now do manage to get at those truths. If all that we have to change is how we should talk about Darwin’s theory, no one is really going to care. But I believe Fodor’s claim (if right) would actually be somewhat significant. You wouldn’t be able to call Darwin’s theory a theory any longer. Would this cause celebration amongst creationist circles, or some embarrassment amongst evolutionary biologists? Possibly so. Would it change anything about how the actual science proceeds? Probably not.

Works cited

Darwin, C. (1897). The origin of species by means of natural selection, or, The preservation of favored races in the struggle for life. Vol. 1. International Science Library.

Fodor, J., & Piattelli-Palmarini, M. (2011). What Darwin got wrong. Profile books. Chicago         

Godfrey-smith, Peter (2008). Explanation in evolutionary biology: Comments on Fodor. Mind and Language 23 (1):32–41.

Hempel, Carl (1965). Aspects of Scientific Explanation and Other Essays in the Philosophy of Science. The Free Press.

Neander, Karen (1991). Functions as selected effects: The conceptual analyst's defense. Philosophy of Science 58 (2):168-184.

Skoglund, P. (2015). "Ancient wolf genome reveals an early divergence of domestic dog ancestors and admixture into high-latitude breeds". Current Biology 25 (11): 1515–9.

Strevens, M. (2006). Scientific explanation. Encyclopedia of Philosophy, second edition. DM Borchert (ed.). Detroit: Macmillan Reference USA.

Foundations of morality

At a very young age, children are able to tell the difference between social conventions (e.g. raising your hand in class) and moral norms (e.g. do not kill people). One major difference between the two is that social conventions are only binding in certain contexts or settings whereas moral norms are taken to be binding across all contexts and settings. At least some moral norms are thought by some to be instinctual or self-evident, whereas all social conventions are learned. A final, yet controversial, distinction is that moral norms have a basis in fact, whereas social conventions are invented for practical purposes. Over time, we humans believe to have made moral progress, and will continue to make discoveries as to what kinds of actions are morally right or wrong. Just like there are facts about mathematics that were unknown to mathematicians of the past, there are probably facts about morality that we have not yet discovered. As stated previously, the comparison of morality to mathematics is a controversial one. Those who make such comparisons usually adopt a view called moral realism. 

Moral norms	Social conventions
Universally binding	Not universally binding
Instinctual or Self-evident	Learned and not self-evident
Factual basis	Invented

Moral realism is the view that states that there are facts of the matter as to whether a particular action is right or wrong, regardless of the context, culture, or time period. Moral realists typically believe that slavery was morally acceptable in the United States during the 17^th century, but that the practice was still morally wrong at the time. Moral realists think the answers to moral questions—like mathematical questions (e.g. 2+2=4)—are timeless, and that people of past generations who got the answers wrong were either ignorant of some relevant facts or incompetent at doing their moral calculations.

A competing view, moral relativism, states that there are just facts about what is wrong in a given context, culture, or historical time period. To contrast, the moral realist will say things like “harming animals without any justification is wrong”, whereas the moral relativist will say things like “harming animals without any justification is wrong in western cultures, but morally acceptable amongst the Hopi Indians.” On moral relativism, facts about morality have to be relativized to a certain culture, time period or even an individual. 

Lastly, moral anti-realism denies the existence of moral facts. The anti-realist might believe that moral claims are invented by humans to preserve the peace or that they are the product of our emotional reactions and evolutionary history. The anti-realist would deny many of the distinctions between moral norms and social conventions and argue that moral norms are just a sub-class of social conventions. Now moral anti-realists do not deny that moral talk is useless or irrational. Rather, most accept that moral talk is indispensable, or an incredibly useful fiction. Furthermore, being a moral antirealist does not prohibit one from endorsing normative theories such as utilitarianism or social contract theory. Anti-realism is meta-ethical view, one that just makes claims about what moral language amounts to.

Moral realism is perhaps the common sense view. Most major religions imply a kind of moral realism by having God as the foundation of moral facts. For instance, one might believe that something is right or wrong because God—the moral authority—commanded it. A common challenge raised to the moral realist is the existence of moral diversity. People of different cultural, religious, and philosophical backgrounds often disagree about what is right and wrong. If so many people disagree about what is right and wrong, how can there be a fact of the matter? Furthermore, how can moral disagreements be resolved? Moral realists typically respond by saying that moral diversity exists because moral questions are hard to answer. Moral disagreements should in principle be resolvable, but it might take extensive debate and discussion to understand why such disagreements exist. Take for instance meat eating. 

Say that Tom believes that factory farm meat eating is wrong and Sally believes that it is morally acceptable. What could be the source of their disagreement? One possibility is that Sally and Tom disagree about other matters of fact. For instance, Sally might believe that animals don’t feel pain or experience emotions while Tom believes animals can experience pain and suffering in a way similar to human beings. If this were the case, the moral realist would have an easy way to settle the moral disagreement. The right answer to the moral question (i.e. Is eating meat morally acceptable?) hinges on whether animals can experience pain and suffering. 

Regardless of what one thinks about the ontological status of moral claims (i.e. whether they're factual or not), there are other unrelated kinds of views one may hold about how to determine what is right and wrong. Philosophers develop theories to try and make sense of how we arrive at answers to moral questions. In a later post, I will discuss the area of moral philosophy that deals with such theories about morality known as normative ethics. 

Next week, I will discuss the evolution of biological organisms, the theory of natural selection and the many misconceptions about both. I will also assess the atheist philosopher Jerry Fodor’s critique of the theory. Fodor argues that natural selection cannot be true because it involves a contradiction. I will try and explain where I think Fodor goes wrong. 

Metaphysics and the mind/body problem

If you have browsed through the shelves of popular book stores such as Barnes and Noble, you may have come across a section labeled metaphysics. Within this section, there are books about witches, UFOs, ghosts, and crystal healing. Within the academic study of philosophy, metaphysics deals with very different kinds of topics. In this post, I will explain what philosophers mean by ‘metaphysics’ and compare it to the science of physics. I will also argue that theories in physics—as well as the other sciences—make metaphysical assumptions. 

Metaphysics deals with questions about the nature of reality. Here are some of them:

Ø  Why is there something rather than nothing? 

Ø  What is the relation between minds and brains? Are minds and brains one and the same? Can minds exist without brains or are they dependent upon them?

Ø  Are future events just as real as the present or the past events? 

Ø  Do numbers exist?

Ø  What is the world ultimately like? Does science give us a complete and accurate description of what there is, or is there much more to reality that what we can observe? 

 The word ‘metaphysics’ goes back to the time of Aristotle, translating roughly to beyond or after physics. While I have not heard the discipline of metaphysics characterized like this before, I think that it can also be understood as a prequel to physics. Before engaging in theories about the physical world, you will likely need to have some views about the nature of reality. Reality is what the world is really like, whereas science tells us about the observable physical world. One may ask what the difference is between the observable world and reality. Aren’t they the same thing? Plato often made a distinction between appearance and reality. Large buildings may look very small when we are far away, but they in fact aren’t. Science gives us better tools for examining the world and its contents, but those appearances may be deceiving as well. The world may be very unlike how our current (and future) scientific theories describe it to be, and it is possible that we may not be able to know what the world is really like. Putting such skeptical worries aside, it is still intelligible to say that there are (deeper) facts of the matter. There is a way that the world is, and metaphysics is a discipline that actively tries to figure out the details.

 Rene Descartes in his book ‘Meditations’ tried to establish a firm foundation for science by reflecting upon the metaphysical views one may think it presupposes. For instance, science presupposes that there exists a physical world (made up of discrete objects) that is external to the minds of human beings. Descartes tried to defend such views by appealing to the existence of God, whereas philosophers such as George Berkeley tried to deny them, maintaining that everything that exists is mental in nature. On Berkeley’s view, there simply are no objects ‘out there’ in the world, it’s all in our (and God’s) mind. Likewise, philosophers such as Spinoza deny that the world is made up of discrete objects. On Spinoza’s view, there is only one thing in the world—the universe itself. The universe is comprised of many (possibly infinite) parts, and passes through various stages (or as Spinoza called them ‘modes’), but it is ultimately one highly complex object. The views of Berkeley and Spinoza may sound very outlandish, but it a matter of ongoing scholarly debate as to where exactly they go wrong (if they do at all). With respect to 1) whether the world is physical or mental, and 2) whether the world is one or many objects, science can carry on undisturbed. The truth or falsity of such metaphysical theories can be thought of as running parallel to scientific theories. Scientists may sometimes rightfully ignore metaphysical issues, but there are instances where science runs deep into metaphysical waters. 

Two of our best scientific theories (i.e. quantum mechanics and general relativity) run into problems of interpretation. By problems of interpretation, I mean that the experimental data is compatible with a multitude of metaphysical hypotheses (11 to be exact). To give just two examples, the many worlds interpretation states that there are an infinite number of branching universes, whereas the Bohmian interpretation states that there is only one universe. At the moment, it is thought by many physicists and philosophers that there is (in principle) no scientific test or observation that could favor one interpretation over another. But surely, only one of these interpretations can be correct. The world can only be one way. There have been different reactions to the problem of many interpretations. Some scientists reserve judgment, others argue for one interpretation over the others, and some adopt a position known as ‘instrumentalism’. Instrumentalism states that science is in the business of making accurate predictions and models, not informing us what the world is really like. Perhaps the instrumentalists have got this right. If science cannot tell us what the world is really like, maybe metaphysics and philosophy can. 

It is believed that most (if not all) metaphysical questions are to be solved through careful thought and logical analysis, rather than through observation and experimentation, two of the central investigatory tools of science. Scientific findings may inform the discussion, but they rarely answer metaphysical questions by themselves (*though most scientists believe the exact opposite is true!). Metaphysical views are compared with one another in terms of their overall plausibility, their compatibility with other theories, logical coherence and on measures of elegance and simplicity. To understand how metaphysical debates are carried out, I will focus on the relation between the mind and the brain. If we are to appeal to science alone, what kind of experiment or observation might determine whether minds and brains were one and the same?

 Let’s say that future scientists perfect brain imaging. Furthermore, let’s stipulate that such technology allows scientists to pinpoint the source in the brain for all mental activity. Your emotions are correlated with brain activity in region X, while your personality and moral character are correlated with brain activity in region Y, and so on. Could we conclude from such observations that the mind is simply identical to the brain, and that, for instance, there is no immaterial soul? Not from experimental data alone. Even perfect correlations between brain activity and mental activity do not establish causality, though it does provide one with good reason for thinking they are causally connected. Substance dualists, whom believe that the mind and brain are distinctly different kinds of things, will argue that the experimental data shows how the physical brain is affected by the immaterial soul. It doesn’t conclusively demonstrate that there is no soul. 

How can one rule out the possibility for there to be a soul causing all of the activity in the brain? Since the soul is said to be immaterial—i.e. not located in space—there would be no way to scientifically test for its presence. Instead of relying upon experimental data or observations, philosophers have offered several arguments for why there probably isn’t an immaterial soul. The first style of argument appeals to scientific theories and laws. It is argued that 1) the alleged causal interactions between souls and brains violate laws of conservation of energy and 2) are in conflict with Einstein’s relativity theory. 

A second style of argument is conceptual in nature. Such arguments question the coherence of mind-to-brain causation. If a mind is not located in space, and is not made up of anything physical, how does it interact with a physical brain located in space? Let’s suppose that the soul causes the brain to feel guilty about an immoral action. We can give a nice story about what goes on in the brain during such an experience, but what happens before the moment of soul-to-brain interaction? How does the soul initiate the sequence of brain activities? In everyday causal interactions (e.g. knocking over a glass of wine), objects typically interact through direct contact. My hand makes contact with the glass and then the glass falls off the table. But it doesn’t really even make sense to say that the soul ever “contacts” the brain since the soul does not occupy any space. The soul must interact with the brain in some other way. But given that the soul and brain have no properties in common (other than existing in time), it is hard to see how any kind of interaction is possible. Rene Descartes, an early proponent of substance dualism, conceded that this problem of causal interaction was a powerful objection to the view, and ultimately, was unable to give a satisfactory reply. At this point, a dualist might appeal to mystery. Just because we do not know how the causal interaction is possible doesn’t mean that it’s impossible. Soul-to-brain causation might just be beyond human comprehension.  

Lastly, a third style of argument appeals to a principle of logical reasoning called Occam’s razor. Occam’s razor states that you ought not multiply entities beyond necessity. Put in everyday English, if you have a theory that explains everything by positing one thing (e.g. the brain), then you shouldn’t posit something else (e.g. a soul) in addition to it. Positing additional entities runs the risk of error. A theory is more likely to go wrong if one starts adding extra parts that are unnecessary. For example, take a theory of electricity that appeals to electric demons. The theory is otherwise identical to modern theories of electricity, but insists that the flow of electricity is maintained by sprinting immaterial demons. What should we make of such a theory? It is clearly absurd to posit such entities to a theory because the demons don’t add anything to the explanation. If anything, they just complicate it for no good reason. The same is thought to be true of the addition of a soul to modern psychological and neuroscientific theories. Scientists and philosophers alike argue that we can explain everything without positing a soul on top of the highly complex organ that is the brain. Dualists might insist that there are certain things that psychology and neuroscience leave out. For instance, our subjective experience of the world. How can brain cells and chemicals give rise to consciousness? 

In closing, I have argued that there a subset of meaningful questions that science alone cannot answer. The distinction I’ve implicitly made between science and philosophy may be challenged. I’ve taken science to comprise the activities that scientists regularly engage in (e.g. observation and experimentation), and metaphysics—as a sub-branch of philosophy—to be the activities that philosophers regularly engage in (e.g. conceptual analysis, logical reasoning). I do not want to say that there isn’t a great deal of overlap between science and philosophy. On the contrary, I think that the two disciplines are entangled together. There are times in which we are all philosophers, and times in which we are all scientists. Philosophy and science are intellectual activities that human beings practice to better understand the world and their place in it. When we entertain purely metaphysical questions, we have our philosopher’s cap on. When we perform experiments, make predictions, or analyze data, we have our scientist’s cap on. Metaphysical questions have been lingering for millennia and offer no easy solutions. But each of us will likely find one of the (many) solutions to be plausible or, at the least, not as crazy as the rest. 

Free will and moral responsibility

On Halloween night, a man in a white mask goes door-to-door killing everyone in his sight with a large kitchen knife. He is arrested and brought in to trial. On a scale from 1 to 10 (1=not at all responsible, 5=somewhat responsible, 10=fully responsible), how responsible would you consider the man to be for his actions in light of the three following scenarios:

a)      The man was possessed by evil spirits

b)      The man was psychopathic with a severe self-control deficit

c)      The man planned everything and knew that his actions were immoral

If you think that the man wasn’t responsible in (a), but near fully responsible in (c), on what basis did you come to such judgments? Common sense says that the man who planned everything is responsible because he made the decision to kill all of those people whereas the man under possession did not. We consider ourselves to be responsible for those actions under our control. We do not blame small children or non-human animals for their actions because they are lack certain mental capacities (e.g reflective reasoning) and/or knowledge (e.g. moral norms) that allow for reason-guided action. It seems then that moral responsibility depends on whether or not we can freely act or make decisions, otherwise known as free will.

A view held by many scientists (and some prominent philosophers) rejects this common sense picture. Free will skepticism (FWS) entails that 1) no one has free will and that 2) no one is responsible for anything. If we are not morally responsible for our actions, then the correct answer for (a-c) should be a (1). The man who planned everything and knew his actions were immoral was no more responsible than the man who had all of his actions manipulated by evil spirits. 

FWS has radical implications for our moral, legal, and social practices. Unlike certain abstract philosophical questions (e.g. whether numbers exist), the free will debate is of real world significance. In this post, I will assess the plausibility of free will skepticism and defend compatibilist theories of free will—which I take to preserve many of our moral, legal, social practices—from recent attacks. Before I get into the details, I’d first like to state that the free will debate is deeply interconnected with many other philosophical topics (e.g. the nature of causation, philosophy of action, the mind-body problem, and laws of nature) for which there are no easy or obvious answers. In taking a side in the free will debate, one must tacitly accept views regarding all of these other topics. Likewise, the free will debate itself comprises a number of different questions:

·         What is free will?

·         Is free will compatible with determinism?

·         Is free will required for moral responsibility? 

·         What is moral responsibility? 

·         What follows if we don’t have free will and/or moral responsibility?

Free will can be conceived of in more than one way. There is first, the libertarian conception of free will, which states that free will gives us ultimate control of our actions or the unconditional ability to do otherwise. Possession of libertarian free will entails that if we were to rewind the clock right before the moment of some action (e.g. eat cereal for breakfast)—*fixing all of the past conditions (e.g. mental states, prior events, etc.)*—we would be able to do otherwise (e.g. eat eggs for breakfast). This conception of free will often goes hand in hand with dualism—the view which states that the mind and body are independent—as well as theism (1). Under a theistic reading, free will can be thought of as a god given power, giving humans ultimate responsibility for their actions. Many scientists and philosophers doubt that we have this kind of free will. Without this kind of free will, it is thought that humans are just like billiard balls, with each action the result of a long chain reaction of past events constrained (or determined) by the laws of nature. But there is also the compatibilist conception of free will, an alternative that’s been around since Ancient Greece (2).

Compatibilism states that we can have free will even if the universe, and our actions, are the result of past events and the laws of nature. In a nutshell, compatibilism is the view that we can be morally responsible even if we lack immaterial souls or magical causal powers. Hume thought of free will as the ability to make decisions without any external constraints (e.g. having a gun up to your head) (3). Eddy Nahmias, a contemporary compatibilist, conceives of free will as a set of psychological capacities (4). Such capacities include: self-control, future planning, and rational deliberation. The extent to which an agent has free will depends on whether there are any internal (e.g. mental illness) or external (e.g. gun to head) pressures working against these capacities. On this view, free will is not an all-or-nothing feature, but rather, a matter of degree. 

Many have challenged compatibilist theories on the grounds that their proponents are changing the subject. Free will skeptics claim that most people (i.e. non-philosophers) have the libertarian conception in mind, and that therefore, it is then misleading to say that we have free will, but of a different kind. Sam Harris gives a nice way to illustrate this objection.

“Imagine that we live in a world where more or less everyone believes in the lost kingdom of Atlantis. You and your fellow compatibilists come along and offer comfort: Atlantis is real, you say. It is, in fact, the island of Sicily. You then go on to argue that Sicily answers to most of the claims people through the ages have made about Atlantis. Of course, not every popular notion survives this translation, because some beliefs about Atlantis are quite crazy, but those that really matter—or should matter, on your account—are easily mapped onto what is, in fact, the largest island in the Mediterranean. Your work is done, and now you insist that we spend the rest of our time and energy investigating the wonders of Sicily” (5).

For Harris’s analogy to work, one must assume that everyone more or less believes in the libertarian conception of free will. This is an empirical question, one that, at best, remains unsettled (6). But let’s assume for the sake of argument that most people do have the libertarian conception in mind. Does it follow that we should then conclude that free will does not exist? Another option would be to state that the folk are simply wrong about the nature of free will. We wouldn’t want to say that energy doesn’t exist simply because the folk conception of ‘energy’ is erroneous. What’s relevant is whether the concept maps onto something in the world, not how many people happen to misunderstand it. There are further, pragmatic, reasons for siding with the compatibilists. 

It would be absurd, if not impossible to give up talk of moral responsibility altogether. As human beings, we have emotional reactions to certain kinds of behavior (7). We feel indignation towards those who do us wrong and we feel gratitude towards those who help us. If no one is morally responsible, then no one deserves blame or praise. It would thus be irrational to experience such reactive emotions and we would be rationally compelled to try and eliminate them from the human experience. Unless we come to the point where drugs and genetic modification can rid us of such emotions, I think they are here to stay. 

In summary, there are roughly three positions one may take up in the free will debate. One can be a libertarian, a skeptic, or a compatibilist. I have argued that compatibilism is the most appealing option, on the grounds that it preserves our common sense intuitions about moral responsibility (which may be part of our human nature), but this is far from a knock-down case for the view. There is much more to say about all three of these views. In the future posts, I will dive much deeper into many of the questions raised here. I will focus mainly on the debate between free will skeptics and compatibilists and ultimately argue that compatibilism is the more plausible view to hold. 

Works cited:

(1)   Not all libertarian views are religiously motivated. For example, the philosopher Robert Kane defends a naturalistic theory of libertarian free will. See his 1998 book, “The significance of free will”, for an articulation and defense of his view. 

(2)   Scholars have argued that ancient Stoics, such as Chrysippus, advanced compatibilist theories. Sharples, R. W. (1983). Alexander of Aphrodisias on fate: Text, translation, and commentary. Duckworth.

(3)   http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/hume-freewill/

(4)   http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/11/13/is-neuroscience-the-death-of-free-will/?_r=0

(5)   https://www.samharris.org/blog/item/the-marionettes-lament

(6)   Murray, D., & Nahmias, E. (2014). Explaining away incompatibilist intuitions.Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 88(2), 434-467.

(7)   The philosopher Peter Strawson has written extensively about the relevance of emotions to the free will debate. See his classic text Freedom and resentment (1963).

Further reading:

http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/compatibilism/

http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/freewill/

Recommended films with connections to the free will debate:

The Adjustment Bureau

Minority Report

A Clockwork Orange