Offline: Something for the weekend

Abstract

What did you do this past weekend? Perhaps you booked your summer vacation. Or dined out at a recently opened local restaurant. Or treated yourself to a small luxury. Isn't that what weekends are for? A brief interlude in a busy (and likely stressed) life to rest and reward yourself (or others) for your week's work. But were these purchases strictly necessary? Probably not. But then that's the whole point. You earned your gift to yourself—a normal part of what it is to lead a modern life. But, according to the ethicist Peter Singer, possibly not a moral life. Singer identifies his essay, Famine, Affluence, and Morality, as one of the two great achievements of his lifetime (the other is Animal Liberation). His essay was first published in 1972 and has now been reissued, together with several related articles by Singer and a foreword by Bill and Melinda Gates. Singer's core argument is straightforward: few of us are doing enough to address the injustices of our world. Hardly a new message. Indeed, you may be tempted to stop reading at this point. Who wants to be lectured by an academic philosopher who enjoys the considerable comforts of one of America's wealthiest universities (Princeton)? But the arguments in Singer's short book are worth reviewing because they pose interesting questions about who we are and what we do—and perhaps especially so for health professionals who might think they already do a great deal for humanity. Singer encapsulates his case in the following way: “I can see no escape from the conclusion that each one of us with wealth surplus to his or her essential needs should be giving most of it to help people suffering from poverty so dire as to be life-threatening.” He accepts that this is an “uncomfortable conclusion”. The defences against Singer's injunctions are familiar. Would the money we give not simply fall into the hands of corrupt politicians? Don't we already give generously through taxpayer-funded overseas development aid? And is there not a distinction between, even a different duty towards, those who live in our own communities and those who live under the jurisdiction and responsibility of a government elsewhere (charity begins at home)? Singer rejects these counter arguments. In the realm of morality, there can be no difference between our responsibilities to those who live near or far. And there are now many sure ways—respected charities, for example—to ensure that our money reaches those in greatest need. That word, charity, is part of the problem. We see giving to charity as an act of generosity. It is optional. We may be praised for doing so. But we are not condemned for not doing so. “This way of looking at the matter”, Singer writes, “cannot be justified”. Giving is neither charitable nor generous—”we ought to give the money away, and it is wrong not to do so”. He admits that his proposals are radical, requiring nothing less than “the revision of our moral conceptual scheme”. But the logic of his case is clear: “From the moral point of view, the prevention of the starvation of millions of people outside our society [the 1971 famine of East Bengal was the spur for his essay] must be considered at least as pressing as the upholding of property norms within our society.” And: “The issue is one which faces everyone who has more money than he needs to support himself and his dependents.” If we choose not to give away our money, Singer concludes that “we are failing to live a morally decent life”. In their foreword, Bill and Melinda Gates suggest that Singer's original argument was ahead of its time, “But perhaps its time has now come.” Singer considers why our species has not developed the sensibility to consider those in need far away from us our direct responsibility. He puts it down to evolution. For thousands of years the circumference of our emotional concern was local. We did not have the means to see and feel the suffering of others. But now we do, and there can be no excuse for our lack of attention or action: “we cannot discriminate against someone merely because he is far away from us…if it is in our power to prevent something bad from happening, without thereby sacrificing anything of comparable moral importance, we ought, morally, to do it”.