Showing posts with label ontology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ontology. Show all posts

Monday, October 8, 2012

The uninvited neighbour: A Christian response to modern refugee issues

I would like to thank Jessie Taylor & Gordon Preece for helping me to think about this issue in a clearer manner.

Refugees on Nauru during the 'Pacific Solution' era


Biblical teaching suggests that Christians have a special duty to love those who are foreigners and refugees (Deuteronomy 10:19). How should this teaching be understood and applied by Christian citizens in Australia's current political context?  


Introduction

This article seeks to examine if and to what extent the normative elements of the Christian texts are relevant to the context of the current debate surrounding uninvited asylum seekers in Australia. I begin by providing a brief outline of the current political situation. Then, I explore the relationship between the biblical narrative, Christian principles of justice, and the politics of asylum. Finally I will consider the normative implications of applying Christian principles of justice within the Australian political context and what issues this may raise.

The Australian context

Many Australians will remember the famous words of John Howard in 2001 when he declared ‘we will decide who comes to this country and the circumstances in which they come.’[1] Thus began, or at least brought to the surface, a nation’s fear of so-called ‘illegals’, ‘queue-jumpers’, ‘aliens’, or the all-inclusive term ‘boat people’. In August of that same year, a small fishing boat called ‘Palapa I’ was discovered by MV Tampa as it carried 433 asylum seekers who were ‘mostly Hazaras escaping the Taliban.’ MV Tampa, the Norwegian fishing vessel proceeded to take the asylum seekers to Christmas Island, However, the SAS forcefully gained control of the vessel. On September 11, 2001, the Federal court ruled that ‘the government was obliged to bring the asylum seekers ashore and assess their claims.[2] Later, that decision was reversed and the refugees recued by MV Tampa were taken to Nauru. The ‘Tampa affair’ presented Howard with the perfect opportunity to reassure Australians that the government was in control of the nation’s borders.[3]

The offshore processing of the refugees discovered by MV Tampa in the Indian Ocean marked the beginnings of the ‘Pacific Solution’, which would a decade later be reinvented by the Gillard-Labour government in response to political turmoil over an apparent ‘influx’ of ‘boat people’. This costly endeavour of sending those who ask for our help to offshore detention centres has been praised for its effectiveness, or more precisely, its ability to ‘stop the boats’. The slogan ‘stop the boats’ has been embraced by both major Australian political parties.[4] Digging beneath the surface of such a slogan reveals the troubling normative issues in deterring asylum seekers through what is effectively indefinite imprisonment (or more diplomatically, detention). The costs associated with offshore processing are not just financial but also moral, psychological, and spiritual. I believe the Christian metaphysical underpinning that can operate from a non-consequentialist basis has something unique to offer the ethical discourse on this matter.

A biblical narrative

The narrative of the biblical texts are crucial for developing a holistic understanding of what a biblical response to this seemingly complex issue could look like. Rev. Dr. Gordon Preece emphasises that ‘we are all boat people,’ and that like us, ‘the Israelites needed repeated reminding that they were originally refugees.’[5] William Cavanaugh goes further in suggesting that the church itself is ‘already constituted by refugees,’ not merely originally, but is continually a body of refugees.[6]

The Old testament provides countless images of refugee stories. The Hebrew word ‘ger’ appears 92 times in the text. The word is translated to mean ‘stranger’ (Gen15:13, 23:4), ‘sojourner’ (Exod 2:22, 1 Chron 29:15), ‘alien’ (Exod 12:19, 2 Chron 2:17), or ‘foreigner’ (1 Chron 22:2).[7] Nearly all appearances of this word are accompanied by normative commands. Examples of these normative commands can be found when God orders no preferential treatment for the native-born over the alien (Lev 24:16, Num 9:14), when God orders the Israelites to love the foreigners (Deut 10:19), and when God commands the Israelites to leave enough food ‘for the foreigners, orphans, and widows (Deut 24:20).[8] Rather than top down charity which reinforces existing power relations, there is a strong emphasis on empathetic solidarity in the biblical text.[9]

Furthermore, Jesus is presented as a refugee who is fleeing a despotic dictator who gave orders ‘to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under.’[10] As a refugee King, Jesus recapitulated the normative themes explored in relation to refugees in the Old Testament texts. In Matthew 25, for example, Jesus tells his followers that we must view actions which are to the benefit of the least advantaged members of society as our duties as people who claim to love God.[11] It is in this crucial passage where Jesus explicitly states that there is no difference between an act of commission and an act of omission. Not doing something good, in Jesus’ ethical framework, is doing something bad. In other words, ignorance is not bliss.

Christians are far from united on the specific issue of ‘boat people’, perhaps even more so than other modern political and ethical issues that the churches are tackling. Tony Abbott, the leader of the federal Liberal party, when responding to a question about ‘why his attitude to asylum seekers was unchristian’ responded by suggesting: ‘I don’t think it’s a very Christian thing to come in by the back door rather than the front door.’[12] But as Preece points out, there have been plenty of Christian Refugees at Maribynong, Woomera, and Curtin detention centres.[13] Others, such as the Anglican Archbishop of Sydney, Peter Jensen, have endorsed the Houston and Aristotle reports, effectively supporting the reintroduction of the ‘Pacific Solution’ even though Jensen opposed offshore processing a decade earlier, arguing that ‘illegal’ actions of asylum seekers were caused by necessity.[14]

Normative issues

The consequences of a policy of deterrence can be severe and the policy can cost lives. On the other hand, the consequences of having no deterrence mechanism in place could also cost lives. In a normative sense, all I have suggested thus far is that we should be nice to refugees, which I presume is fairly uncontroversial. The next section seeks to establish which moral theory is most compatible with a biblical response to this issue.
The justifications given in support of coercive deterrence mechanisms in regards to those seeking asylum are largely utilitarian. The utilitarian perspective suggests that the means can be compromised in order to achieve the desired ends. This means that a utilitarian would find it acceptable to strive towards an ideal through non-ideal means. This is the first and most obvious clash between Christianity and utilitarianism. If Jesus wanted us to ‘love our neighbours’ or ‘love our enemies’ only when it was effective, then the command itself is ruled invalid by a greater command of ‘do what is most effective’. Martin Luther King, Jr. noticed this contradiction between Christian thought and utilitarianism, contending, ‘ultimately you can’t reach good ends through evil means, because the means represent the seed and the end represents the tree.’[15] Elsewhere he suggests that ‘the means represent the ideal in making and the end in process ... So as you seek justice as an end, you use just methods to get there.’[16] Paul writes in Romans that the people who think the Christians are teaching ‘let’s do evil so that good will come from it’ will be justly condemned.[17] Sending asylum seekers to detention centres in third world countries is the most explicit example of doing evil, in the hope that good will eventuate.

The second problem associated with the utilitarian justification for sending asylum seekers to places like Nauru is that it treats the individual asylum seekers who are sent to Nauru as mere means rather than ends in themselves.[18] This is a separate problem from the first issue raised which is specifically about the inconsistency of the means. The second problem differentiates the common asylum seeker from the common criminal. The common criminal has her liberty denied firstly for her own sake (rehabilitation, inability to reoffend), and the secondly, as a means to deter other people from committing that same crime.[19] For example, I would agree to live in a society where if I murdered someone I would then be incarcerated. Even if I am not rational at the time I murder someone, I can say now that it would be in my best interests to be separated from society for a time and to receive compulsory counselling and behavioural training so that I can be rehabilitated. Whereas, the common asylum seeker differs from the common criminal in that the asylum seeker has committed no moral or legal wrong, does not need rehabilitation, and imprisonment, (particularly in places like Nauru) and imprisonment is not in the asylum seekers’ interests. Imprisoning people who have committed no crime in order to deter other people from asking for our help treats the imprisoned people as a means rather than an end and strips them of their personhood and equality under God.

It is important to remark, that even if the utilitarian framework is accepted, one still needs to consider whether the empirical data shows that coercive deterrence leads to the maximisation of welfare. In a similar way, a utilitarian would only support torture in circumstances where welfare is maximised (eg., torturing one person to save the lives of two others). Authors such as Andy Lamey point out that Australia’s deterrence system causes asylum seekers to suffer from high stress levels and an increased risk of committing suicide.[20] He also points out that it gives them a status lower than criminals which is detrimental to their identity.[21] This shows that even from a utilitarian perspective (which does not generally synthesise with biblical teaching) it is difficult to justify ‘stopping the boats’.

A common objection to applying biblical principles to national security policies is the radical and demanding outcomes they infer. Unfortunately Christian thinkers such as Preece and Ralston have done very little to address the objection which asks: ‘at what point ought we turn people away?’ Preece inaccurately suggests that ‘even the most bleeding hearted, naive liberal is not saying ‘let everyone in’.’[22] Perhaps most liberals are not arguing this approach, but some of them are, and they should be considered. Still, it is unclear as to when Preece thinks we should begin to refuse asylum seekers protection and what means we should use to keep uninvited asylum seekers out of Australia. Ralston suggests that it is not necessary for the church to ‘advocate for a complete open-door policy to refugees,’ pointing out that the break-even point may arise if resettling refugees has a negative outcome for the ‘existing marginalised populations.’[23]

One suggestion would be that our obligations begin at the point where we have to sacrifice something significant, but they should not exceed the point where our self-care diminishes. In regards to where our obligations begin, we should take seriously Carens’s claim that ‘we have an obligation to open our borders more fully than we do now,’ and especially more fully to those who are in need.[24] Carens suggests that ‘open immigration would change the character of the community, but it would not leave the community without character.’[25] We must avoid holding on to our ideals of a static hegemonic culture when displaced people require our assistance. In regards to the upper constraints of our obligations, we should not require of ourselves more than God has called us to. God has called all believers to love their neighbour as themselves, which requires a basic level of self-love and self-care as a means to fulfil his work on earth.

Conclusion

In terms of acting upon our obligations as Christians to care for the refugee, I will briefly note one model which Ralston believes is compatible with a Christian understanding of justice. Ralston suggests that one of the most effective ways of communicating God’s ‘love and presence’ is through living with refugees, as exemplified by the Jesuit Refugee Service (JRS). He believes that the church is lacking in genuine encounters with refugees, and I am not inclined to disagree with him. This same model is being replicated through the ‘First Home Project’ in Perth, Australia. The Christian call is, however, not limited to one particular model (which some may find too demanding in their current context). Political activism and financial donations, or offerings of skills training and language development are all ways that Christians can live out the community and compassion they have been called to.

In conclusion, the Christian narrative and principles of justice encourage Christians to treat asylum seekers as humans who hold inalienable rights. This essay has shown the incompatibility of utilitarianism and the Christian ethical framework. First, coercive deterrence mechanisms severely compromise the commands which have been given to us in regards to how we ought to treat our neighbours. Second, people should not be treated as mere means due to their mode of transport and their legal status. Therefore, the Christian cannot endorse a policy which seeks to coercively use one lot of people purely as a means to deter others from asking for our assistance.

Works Cited

ABC. “Seek and Ye Shall Submit (Transcript).” Q&A, September 10, 2012. http://www.abc.net.au/tv/qanda/txt/s3581623.htm.
Biblos.com. “Online Parallel Bible”, 2011. http://bible.cc/.
Burnside, Julian. “Australians Don’t Fully Understand What Is Being Done in Their Name.” The Age, August 26, 2011. http://www.theage.com.au/opinion/politics/australians-dont-fully-understand-what-is-being-done-in-their-name-20110825-1jcbn.html#ixzz28TZW5Dm7.
Carens, Joseph H. “Aliens and Citizens: The Case for Open Borders.” The Review of Politics 49, no. 2 (April 1, 1987): 251–273.
Cavanaugh, William T. “Migrant, Tourist, Pilgrim, Monk: Mobility and Identity in a Global Age.” Theological Studies 69, no. 2 (June 2008): 340–356.
Clarke, Sarah. “Liberals Accused of Trying to Rewrite History.” Lateline. ABC, November 21, 2001. http://www.abc.net.au/lateline/content/2001/s422692.htm.
Jensen, Peter. “Interview with Amy Butler on Australia’s Treatment of Asylum Seekers and Refugees”, 2001. http://sydneyanglicans.net/seniorclergy/archbishop_jensen/48a.
Kant, Immanuel. “The Categorical Imperative.” In Ethics, edited by Peter Singer, 274–279. Oxford University Press, USA, 1994.
King, Martin Luther. “A Christmas Sermon on Peace” (n.d.).
———. Methodist Student Leadership Conference Address. September 10, 2011. American Rhetoric, 1964.
Lamey, Andy. Frontier justice : the global refugee crisis and what to do about it. Canada: Doubleday Canada, 2011.
Maccullum, Mungo. “‘Stop the Boats’ Has Become Bipartisan Policy.” ABC, July 2, 2012. http://www.abc.net.au/unleashed/4105116.html.
Mares, Peter. Borderline : Australia’s Treatment of Refugees and Asylum Seekers. Sydney, Australia: UNSW Press, 2001.
Preece, Gordon. “We Are All Boat People: An Exposition of a Biblical View.” In Refugees : justice or compassion?, edited by Hilary D Regan, Andrew Hamilton, Mark Raper, and Australian Theological Forum. Hindmarsh, S. Aust.: Australian Theological Forum, 2002.
Ralston, Joshua. “Toward a political theology of refugee resettlement.” Theological Studies 73, no. 2 (June 2012): 363+.
“Report of the Expert Panel on Asylum Seekers”, n.d. http://expertpanelonasylumseekers.dpmc.gov.au/report.
The Australian. “Abbott Slams Boatpeople as un-Christian”, n.d. http://www.theaustralian.com.au/national-affairs/immigration/abbott-slams-boatpeople-as-un-christian/story-fn9hm1gu-1226422034305.


[1] Clarke, “Liberals Accused of Trying to Rewrite History.”
[2] Burnside, “Australians Don’t Fully Understand What Is Being Done in Their Name.”
[3] Mares, Borderline : Australia’s Treatment of Refugees and Asylum Seekers.
[4] Maccullum, “‘Stop the Boats’ Has Become Bipartisan Policy.”
[5] Preece, Gordon, “We Are All Boat People: An Exposition of a Biblical View,” 73. I must thank Gordon for the time he has spent with me discussing these issues.
[6] Ralston, “Toward a political theology of refugee resettlement,” 373.
[7] Strong’s Hebrew: 1616 in Biblos.com, “Online Parallel Bible”, see: http://concordances.org/hebrew/strongs_1616.htm.
[8] Strong’s Hebrew: 1616 in ibid., see: http://concordances.org/hebrew/strongs_1616.htm.
[9] Cavanaugh, “Migrant, Tourist, Pilgrim, Monk,” 352.
[10] Biblos.com, “Online Parallel Bible”, Matt 2:16.
[11] Ibid., Matt 25.
[12] The Australian, “Abbott Slams Boatpeople as un-Christian.”
[13] Preece, Gordon, “We Are All Boat People: An Exposition of a Biblical View,” 82.
[14] Jensen, “Interview with Amy Butler on Australia’s Treatment of Asylum Seekers and Refugees”; ABC, “Seek and Ye Shall Submit (Transcript)”; “Report of the Expert Panel on Asylum Seekers.”
[15] King, “A Christmas Sermon on Peace.”
[16] King, Methodist Student Leadership Conference Address.
[17] Biblos.com, “Online Parallel Bible”, Romans 3:8 and 6:1.
[18] Kant, “The Categorical Imperative,” 279. Kant suggest that “every rational being exists as an end in himself and not merely as a means to be arbitrarily used by this or that will.”
[19] At least, this is how one would expect the legal system to function.
[20] Lamey, Frontier justice, 118.
[21] Ibid., 129.
[22] Preece, Gordon, “We Are All Boat People: An Exposition of a Biblical View,” 70.
[23] Ralston, “Toward a political theology of refugee resettlement,” 386.
[24] Carens, “Aliens and Citizens,” 270.
[25] Ibid., 271.

Monday, May 14, 2012

Political Forgiveness

Apology, forgiveness, and reconciliation will be discussed in this essay
Picture from http://goo.gl/k1dbm

I found this to be a very interesting essay to write. I have considered what forgiveness could mean in a secular democratic environment. However, I'm not sure whether a secular democratic environment is actually the best for society, so I'm not completely sure whether I agree with my conclusion. I think forgiveness could be less limited than I have defined it throughout this essay, however, this is as far as I can justify it through words. This paper was submitted for the subject 'Politics, Violence and Memory'.


Is there such thing as political forgiveness?

Political forgiveness is limited and problematic, but with appropriate reflection, it can become a valuable mechanism for reconciliation and transition. I will argue that there is such thing as political forgiveness, and I will define the term in its many elements throughout the discussion. In this paper, I seek to validate the following seven claims: (i) that a commitment to the elimination of resentment is a necessary, although not sufficient, condition of forgiveness, (ii) the elimination of resentment therefore does not constitute as forgiveness, (iii) forgiveness may also require truth, respect, and an openness to reconciliation, (iv) forgiveness in isolation is not a virtuous characteristic of the citizen or state, (v) genuine forgiveness is not condonation, nor need it be pardon, (vi) it is not a victim’s duty to forgive, although it could be regarded as morally commendable, and (vii) that those who have inherited fortunes from the immoral actions committed by previous generations could be eligible for forgiveness due to the injury of illegitimate inheritance.

The concept of resentment appears regularly in the literature surrounding political forgiveness. The Oxford English Dictionary describes resentment as a ‘sense of grievance, an indignant sense of injury or insult received or perceived; (a feeling of) ill will, bitterness, or anger against a person or thing.’[1] For forgiveness to be relevant to a situation, one party must have injured another party. Often in such situations, the injured party will carry some kind of resentment or ‘ill will’ against the other party. Digeser has suggested that ‘forgiveness requires either the actual elimination of resentment or a commitment to the process of eliminating it.’[2] A great deal of my analysis will centre around this assertion.
In relation to political communities it is crucial to understand whether the only way to move beyond resentment is through an act of forgiveness, or whether there are means other than forgiveness that one could use to move beyond resentment. The second question is whether the elimination of resentment constitutes as forgiveness. I will contend in regard to the former point that forgiveness generally is a necessary, although not an entirely sufficient, condition of moving beyond resentment. In regards to the second question, I will contend that the elimination of resentment does not constitute as forgiveness.

Some authors such as Nir Eisikovits have argued that victims can ‘simply move on’ without being forgiving or resentful.[3] It is possible that the victim has had some form of memory loss, or fails to recognise the harm for what it is. However, it seems that in ordinary circumstances forgiveness from the victim is required for the victim to move beyond her resentment towards the perpetrator. The very act of abstaining from forgiveness feeds resentment.[4] One may ask an injured party, ‘so you still haven’t forgiven him for what he did to you?’, the injured party may respond by saying ‘no, I chose not to’, which implies that there is still resentment attached to the injury. If the injured party responds by saying ‘I saw no need to forgive him,’ the injured party must not consider the injury to be grave enough to warrant forgiveness. Only in the circumstance where the injured party does not fully recognise the extent of his injury (or in fact the injury was minimal in the first instance) could the injured party adequately move on without harbouring feelings of resentment in circumstances where the injured party chooses not to or is unable to offer forgiveness to her perpetrator.

In regard to the second point, it is possible for the elimination of resentment to be a necessary condition of forgiveness without the elimination of resentment being forgiveness in itself. For a victim to forgive his perpetrator, the victim must experience more than a lack of resentment. While committing to the elimination of resentment may be the first and most challenging condition of forgiveness, it does not appear to be adequately sufficient. Forgiveness may also require truth, respect, and an openness to reconciliation in addition to a commitment to the elimination of resentment.

Forgiveness has been described as a virtue of the saintly. While this may be the case in the private realm, the virtuous nature of forgiveness in the public-political realm is ambiguous. Downie suggests that ‘readiness to forgive is a virtue and inability to forgive, or at least unwillingness to try, a vice.’[5] However, it is also clear that being too quick to offer forgiveness ‘may result in the weakening of moral restraints on other people’s immoral conduct.’[6] Therefore, it is difficult to find the balance between embodying some kind of ‘forgiving spirit’ while not supporting an immoral act. This point, is particularly relevant to political forgiveness as the perception from the public that a state is condoning an act behind the masquerade of ‘political forgiveness’ is more than plausible, and may have a negative rather than positive effect on the overall situation. More often though, the state is the party who has either been active or complicit in a mass atrocity; the state is the party that is asking for forgiveness. This raises issues with accountability, especially in a political environment that is democratic. Hastily forgiving the wrongs committed by an elected political representative, if widely embraced, could potentially radically undermine the principles of democracy and citizenship as we know them. I will elaborate on this in the last part of the discussion. It will suffice for now to suggest that of the political virtues that have been expounded upon by thinkers such as John Rawls, John Locke, and Immanuel Kant, it would seem that forgiveness is not one of them, or perhaps more precisely, it is not on its own sufficient. Virtues such as respect, equality, dignity, and accountability have historically had a much stronger connection to political life.

It would be reasonable to suggest that if by the very nature of granting forgiveness one must also simultaneously grant pardon and condone the act of injury, forgiveness would have little, if no political appeal. Downie suggests that there are two main reasons why forgiveness and condonation have become confused. The first is in relation to the trivial definition of forgiveness, as in, ‘forgive me for interrupting your meal’, which is more similar to a soft apology which would not in normal circumstances require acceptance from the other party as there was no injury caused. This kind of forgiveness has more to do with courtesy and common language usage, which has little relevance with political forgiveness that may be requested or offered in the aftermath of a  mass atrocity. The second confusion relates specifically to condonation, ‘that condonation is frequently used as a morally inferior substitute for forgiving.’[7] The point which Downie is trying to draw out here is that there are often times when people ‘forgive’ an immoral practice because it is in their self-interest. It is, in the cruel sense of the term, in my self-interest to ‘forgive’ companies that use slave-made cocoa, blood diamonds, or natural rainforest materials. I am tempted to ‘forgive’ my government for her involvement in wars, the ill-treatment of asylum seekers, or the pollution of the environment because it is in my self-interest to make myself believe that I am kind-heartedly ‘forgiving’ these practices when I am in fact condoning them. In summary, the kind of forgiveness that is synonymous with condonation of an immoral act is not the kind of forgiveness which is being explored in this paper. Forgiveness is the condonation of the person behind the act while simultaneously being the condemnation of the act itself.[8] Unless the act and the person can be separated, it is unlikely that the victim will be able to forgive her offender.

Forgiveness in some cases may mean that pardon is granted, however, this is by no means a rule. If a person genuinely desires forgiveness she should still accept her dues. The victim or a judge who has authority over the matter may decide to lessen the punishment because of the perpetrator’s repentance. However, it is out of generosity that a level of pardon may be granted to the perpetrator. The perpetrator still ought to receive her just deserts, provided that they are not motivated by the victim’s sense of resentment. Downie suggests that ‘to pardon is in fact to condone’, or in other words, if to forgive is not to condone, and to pardon is to condone, then to forgive is not to pardon.[9] In some circumstances, especially in regard to personal acts of forgiveness, the victim has the liberty to pardon the offender. In regard to political forgiveness to pardon entirely is effectively to condone. However, the choices need not be between pardon and retribution. Reparations, compensation, and restitution are just a few examples of alternatives to retribution which would, all things being equal, not condone or pardon an immoral action. The distinct yet related concepts of forgiveness, pardon, and condonation should not be confused with one another.

Genuine forgiveness must flow from generosity rather than obligation. It may be morally commendable for a person to forgive her offender, but it could never be a moral obligation. The terms ‘charity’ and ‘duty’ have often been viewed as synonymous, however, this is an error in need of clarification. Duty relates to the debt that is owed, for example, the debt that the offender owes to the victim. As Marina suggests in her exposition on Kant, ‘if we have a moral claim on someone’s doing something, then for the person to grant what is due to us, it is to act justly, not graciously.’[10] If an offender compensates their victim, they do not do so out of ‘charity’ or from a kind heart (although the offender may happen to be a ‘charitable’ or ‘kind-hearted’ person), this is an act of justice. Forgiveness is not a duty or an act of equalising justice, but rather, it is an act similar to charity which could be viewed as morally commendable.

Lastly, I want to touch on the issue of identity. Forgiveness, apology, and reconciliation becomes more complex in the political realm, as the political realm has to deal with individuals, groups, and generations which have dynamic identities. This complexity was most recently brought under the spotlight in regard the apology by the Australian Government for the ill-treatment of Indigenous Australians. Former Prime Minister of Australia, John Howard, did not believe that ‘one generation can accept responsibility for the acts of earlier generation [sic]’, and he did so ‘as a matter of principle.’[11] This is a widely held criticism of the apology, that by apologising, we are effectively condemning the sons for the sins of their fathers. However, all societies inherit wealth, resources, and technology amongst other things from previous generations. It seems reasonable that if I gladly inherit goods which are derived from immoral actions, such as the mass slaughter and unjust treatment of indigenous Australians, then it follows that I also inherit the ‘costs’ as well. Therefore I may still owe a debt of restitution even though I am not explicitly blameworthy for the immoral actions of previous generations. It also follows that there are harms that Indigenous Australians could forgive ‘White Australia’ for, and equally, there are benefits received which ‘White Australia’ could ask to be forgiven for illegitimately inheriting.

My conclusion follows the seven claims that were initially mentioned in the introduction: forgiveness can be a valuable virtue of the citizen and the state if it is balanced appropriately with other political virtues, and other general virtues such as truth, respect, and an openness to reconciliation. Political forgiveness may contain elements of pardon, but for it to be virtuous, political forgiveness must not be synonymous with pardon or condonation. If it were synonymous with pardon or condonation, political forgiveness could radically undermine the core values that we associate with democracy and citizenship. Political forgiveness can only occur out of a sense of generosity rather than duty. There are times when it is morally commendable for citizens, states, or political communities to offer forgiveness. Finally, identity will inevitably be an issue for political forgiveness, however, there are times when identity is invoked as a reason to not offer or accept forgiveness when it is simply the atomisation and denial of responsibility.

Bibliography
Balázs, Zoltán. “Forgiveness and Repentance.” Public Affairs Quarterly 14, no. 2 (April 1, 2000): 105–127.
Davies, Anne. “Apology Was a Mistake, Says Feisty Howard.” The Age. Melbourne, March 12, 2008. http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2008/03/11/1205125911264.html.
Digeser, Peter. “Forgiveness and Politics: Dirty Hands and Imperfect Procedures.” Political Theory 26, no. 5 (October 1, 1998): 700–724.
Downie, R. S. “Forgiveness.” The Philosophical Quarterly 15, no. 59 (April 1, 1965): 128–134.
Eisikovits, Nir. “Forget Forgiveness.” Theoria Theoria 51, no. 105 (2004): 31–63.
Mariña, Jacqueline. “Kant on Grace: A Reply to His Critics.” Religious Studies 33, no. 4 (December 1, 1997): 379–400.
Oxford English Dictionary. “‘Resentment, N.’.”, n.d. http://www.oed.com/view/Entry/163487?redirectedFrom=resentment.
Smith, Roger W. “Redemption and Politics.” Political Science Quarterly 86, no. 2 (June 1, 1971): 205–231.


[1] Oxford English Dictionary, “‘Resentment, N.’.”, n.d., http://www.oed.com/view/Entry/163487?redirectedFrom=resentment.
[2] Peter Digeser, “Forgiveness and Politics: Dirty Hands and Imperfect Procedures,” Political Theory 26, no. 5 (October 1, 1998): 700–724.
[3] Nir Eisikovits, “Forget Forgiveness,” Theoria Theoria 51, no. 105 (2004): 35.
[4] Generally speaking, abstaining from forgiveness is no less an active process as the act of forgiving. Neither can be appropriately viewed as omissions.
[5] R. S. Downie, “Forgiveness,” The Philosophical Quarterly 15, no. 59 (April 1, 1965): 128.
[6] Zoltán Balázs, “Forgiveness and Repentance,” Public Affairs Quarterly 14, no. 2 (April 1, 2000): 111.
[7] Downie, “Forgiveness,” 131.
[8] Roger W. Smith, “Redemption and Politics,” Political Science Quarterly 86, no. 2 (June 1, 1971): 218.
[9] Downie, “Forgiveness,” 131–132.
[10] Jacqueline Mariña, “Kant on Grace: A Reply to His Critics,” Religious Studies 33, no. 4 (December 1, 1997): 379.
[11] Anne Davies, “Apology Was a Mistake, Says Feisty Howard,” The Age (Melbourne, March 12, 2008), http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2008/03/11/1205125911264.html.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Metaphysics: The Case For Intrinsic Value


Are there intrinsic values in nature? If so, what are they?

Nature must be treated as though it has intrinsic value even if this metaphysical property cannot be proven to exist. This essay shows that while objective intrinsic value is likely to exist, it is important that nature is treated as though it has intrinsic value. Deep Ecology is a key concern of this essay. Deep Ecology suggests that there is intrinsic value in all of nature and that there are strong ontological reasons for accepting this. Three philosophical problems with the concept of intrinsic value will considered in this essay: origins, limits, and priorities. This paper shows how many of the reasons why intrinsic value is not accepted are either misguided or are inapplicable to Deep Ecology.

There are several different ways that one can value nature. Nature can, and often is, valued for the economic gain it brings about. It can also be valued purely as a resource for human or animal existence. One of the problems with valuing nature in this way is that it is difficult to stipulate why economic gain or resource value should be viewed as a greater end than nature in itself. While human existence may be seen as a greater end, one should not automatically assume that it is then the only end worth pursuing.

Objective metaphysical properties are also problematic in philosophy. However, the dilemma of being unable to prove intrinsic value does not instantly mean that intrinsic value does not exist. It is clear that if nature is treated purely as a means and never as an end, it will be subject to a lesser degree of concern. Environmental thinkers such as Arne Naess have explored this idea which will need to be considered if we are to reflect critically on how we view the environment.

Empirical studies have shown that many people value nature intrinsically, however, it is often hard to explain why this is the case. This means that nature is valuable regardless of its ‘usefulness’ (Butler and Acott 2007, p. 166). Translating this empirical ‘feeling’ into philosophical reasoning is very difficult, as proving objective metaphysical properties is problematic in philosophy. Who has authority to proclaim that property A is an objective value if another person disagrees? This thinking can lead to the idea that there are no objective metaphysical properties – but this is a mistaken observation. If a property cannot be determined then it does not follow that the property in question does not exist.

If humans can treat nature as though it has intrinsic value then it is worth assessing whether nature actually possesses this property. In addition to this it is clear that if nature is treated purely as a means and never as an end (valued intrinsically), it will be subject to a lesser degree of concern. Therefore, it is important to assess whether nature has intrinsic value. Three problems associated with valuing nature intrinsically will be the primary concern of this paper: origins, limits, and priorities.

  1. Origins
Objective metaphysical properties, just like a deity, cannot be proven in a syllogistic manner. One may simply assume that because these properties cannot have a proven existence it then follows that they do not exist. However, both non-existence and existence are problematic. In the same way, objective intrinsic and non-intrinsic value cannot be proven syllogistically. However, it is possible to show through concepts such as Naess’ ‘Deep Ecology’, that intrinsic value provides a more coherent perception of the world.

The problem of origin is visible in both objective and subjective metaphysics. The former is arguably more important and problematic while the latter is less important and less problematic. Subjective intrinsic value is philosophically sound but less valuable. If I believe that I have a million dollars in my bank account, yet I actually do not have this money, it will not matter whether I actually have the money (providing that I never go to use it). Whether I have the money or whether I don’t have the money, this does not matter. If I believe I have the money and act as if I have the money, until I discover that I in fact do not have the money, it would not matter.

In the same way, if I am to believe that the environment has intrinsic value when in hypothetically it does not, it would not matter so much that I was acting on false beliefs. I would go about treating the environment as though it has intrinsic value, and therefore I would probably treat it with higher regard. However, objectivity is important if others around me do not ascribe intrinsic value to the environment. While I may believe that I have one hundred dollars in my pocket, my neighbor may have no good reason to believe this to be the case until he sees the money. How will I convince him that the money exists? Reasons such as ‘because I believe it has intrinsic value’ is a subjective one, and my neighbor has no reason to adhere to it. Alternatively one could argue that the environment will be treated better if we ascribe intrinsic value to it. While this is probably true, this does not prove the existence of the objective intrinsic value of nature. According to this argument, it is something that we would merely want to be true because of its good consequences.

Naess does not attempt to prove ‘Deep Ecology’ but instead he reveals a different system of thought. His thoughts on the intrinsic value of nature give an alternative passage of thinking which avoids the brick wall of the burden of proof. In particular, his concept of Self-realisation and the transformation from the self to the Self (capital ‘S’) is of utmost importance. Naess suggests that self-interest undermines our ontological value. He believes that we find true value not in the self (individuality), but in the Self (universality) (Næss and Rothenberg 1989, pp. 84-86).

Core to self-realisation for Naess and other Deep Ecologists is the concept that all life is fundamentally one. This is in concordance with Naess’ influences of Gandhian and Buddhist philosophies. Martin Luther King Jr. also took a similar view of the Self (arguably more anthropocentric, but still heavily influenced by the philosophy of Gandhi) stating that ‘injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere’ (McGraw 2003, p. 113). King believes that an injustice that is happening to someone other than myself will actually harm me as well. In the same way, Naess believes that we a part of a larger Self where all injustices against nature strip humans of meaning as well. Self-realisation is an ontological and ecological philosophy that Naess would describe as an ‘ecosophy’. The concept of an ecosophy is unlike other philosophical ideas in that it is neither strict nor vague. It is not strict in the sense that it will vary from person to person, according to their place in the world, and it is not vague in the sense that it is precise for each individual. An ecosophy should be seen as a wider collection of ideas and thinking rather than a narrow concept. This ontological argument provides strong evidence as to how the question of the origin of intrinsic values in nature can be answered by Deep Ecology.

  1. Limits
If intrinsic value is to be placed in all of nature, as Naess suggests, there must be some degree of limitation. Jonge, in his writings on Spinoza and Deep Ecology, questions how we must treat a mosquito that is carrying malaria if we are to remain consistent with Deep Ecology thinking. The anopheles genus is responsible for the deaths of 1.4 to 2.6 million African children. If we are to value all of nature as holding equal intrinsic value then it would not be ethical to perform experiments on the mosquito (De Jonge 2004, p. 20.). This poses a significant problem for environmental ethicists who claim that all life forms have intrinsic value. One solution to this is to ascribe different levels of intrinsic value according to particular characteristics of groups of life forms. This provokes two further problems: the problem of the justification of collective characteristics trumping individual characteristics, and the inevitable problem of anthropocentricism. The former will be addressed now, and the latter will be addressed in the next section.
It is illogical to state that each individual member of a species has a different level of intrinsic value. This is not possible because it goes against the very meaning of intrinsic value. For example, imagine two humans. The first is fit and healthy, and she has a very high productive capacity. The second suffers from a chronic illness and has a lower productive capacity. To assess these two people instrumentally it would be clear that the first person has higher value. The same cannot be said to be true in regard to intrinsic value. The intrinsic value of both people remain the same regardless of their instrumental worth. This is why it is logical to apply intrinsic value to collectives rather than individuals, otherwise intrinsic value will become synonymous with instrumental value and the distinctions will be worthless. As Jong (2004, p. 20.) suggests, ‘it is possible that all beings have intrinsic value, viz., a life of their own, and still regard human beings as more valuable and therefore superior to the non-human world.’

  1. Priorities
If there is to be some kind of hierarchical application of intrinsic value as suggested by the discussion on the limits of intrinsic value above, then there must be justified prioritization of value between species. Ascribing less intrinsic value to the anopheles genus and more intrinsic value to higher non-human animals and human beings can be reconciled with Deep Ecology. Such prioritization of value will inevitably cause some degree of anthropocentricism. Anthropocentricism is often perceived to be a dirty word in environmental and animal rights discourse. However, this should not be the case for when it is applied to Deep Ecology theories. An anthropocentric hierarchical approach to environmental ethics, where all species have varying degrees of intrinsic value, is the most effective and rational way to protect both the human and non-human beings. This will be referred to as the species based approach.

A common objection to the species based approach is that moral obligations could be fulfilled by ensuring that a diverse range of species are raised in zoos (Pojman and Pojman 2011, p. 191.). Russow uses this example to show that ascribing intrinsic value to species leads to intuitively bad outcomes. However, this is cannot apply to Deep Ecology understandings of value. A Deep Ecologist does not value a synthetic nature. A constructed landscape can never have the same worth as a natural landscape to the Deep Ecologist. Zoos are not natural and do not preserve the integrity and flourishing on the species in question.

A further four of Russow’s case studies suggest that if one were to accept a species based account, it would then follow that there are moral obligations to preserve species whom are dying out, evolving, and those who have been domesticated (Pojman and Pojman 2011, p. 192.). It seems that an acceptable solution to Russow’s concern, at least to those species who are dying out or evolving, would be to weigh up human interference with the specie in question against a natural equilibrium. In practice, this would involve assessing the extent of interference the specie has been victim to by humans or other species introduced by humans to the specie’s natural habitat. If interference has taken place then it follows that there is a restorative duty. However, if interference has not taken place, and it appears that nature is simply ‘taking its course’, then it follows that no moral obligations are due. There is and ought be moral obligations derived from valuing nature intrinsically, however, Russow is mistaken in her criticism of the excessive burden and unintuitive obligations that she believes must follow on from valuing nature intrinsically.

A hierarchy of intrinsic value will inevitably be anthropocentric. As mentioned above, one should not make the assumption that because humans have higher intrinsic value than the anopheles genus this means the non-human world can continue to be exploited. For Deep Ecology, this is far from true. Understanding and responding to the intrinsic value of nature leads to the best treatment of not only humans, not only animals, but the entirety of nature.  

Consider the contrast between valuing nature intrinsically and instrumentally. If one is to value nature instrumentally as opposed to intrinsically it follows that it is morally acceptable to use nature as a mere means rather than as an end in and of itself. Naess (1989, p. 11.) draws an analogy between how we ought to treat our friends and how we ought to treat nature. He suggests that ‘like friends – we should never use them only as a means to something else. To do so is superficial, seeing only surface interactions.’ He suggests that ‘we tend to lose friends’ if we treat them only as means and never as ends. Naess (1989, pp. 11-12.) concludes that ‘the same could happen with nature’.

It is clear that the best way to treat nature, both for the sake of nature and for our own sakes, is to treat it as though it has intrinsic worth. This essay has shown that there is a stalemate between whether it is possible for intrinsic value to be subjective or objective. However, it has also shown that what is crucial is not whether I am applying intrinsic value to nature subjectively or whether this objective metaphysical property exists, but rather that nature must be treated as though it has intrinsic value. Applying intrinsic value to nature allows us to explore the meaning of our own lives in the context of a wider Self.


Bibliography