DonAthos

That's my idea of, er, humor. See? I'm a fun guy! This is an inversion of how I've sought to identify error in my thinking. That potentially gives us something to discuss. I agree that "the potential to be wrong" isn't grounds for thinking that we hold any wrong belief, in specific. But I do believe that this potential necessitates a certain general mindset which is constantly on guard for, and even probing for, the possibility of error. Besides which... how can I put this...? Sometime ago, when discussing the arbitrary, I raised the question as to whether the (somewhat absurd) statement of, "At the moment, someone in Sweden is eating an egg," is a proper example of the "arbitrary." For I would lay money on the claim that there is someone in Sweden eating an egg, right at this very moment, although I have no specific evidence of any individual currently doing so. Yet perhaps it is evidence of a kind in knowing how many people there are in Sweden, and knowing human dietary habits, and so forth, which justifies that sort of claim. And so, while I don't know the contents of anyone's mind in total, such that I could enumerate every last belief (not even my own), I feel confident in saying that among that vast multitude of beliefs, with respect to any individual, some beliefs are bound to be wrong. Or another way of approaching this is, consider this forum. Note the multiplicity of opinions here, and disagreements -- and this is among people who (at least to some degree) identify with the same core philosophy. I would dare say that an average adult human holds what we might consider to be thousands (or perhaps orders of magnitude more) of distinct beliefs. And if you were to compare the beliefs of any two people -- any two people in the world -- the odds are strongly against their aligning perfectly, down to the very last. Now I suppose, even given all of this, it is possible that one individual may, in his beliefs, be 100% correct. Perhaps that person is you. Or perhaps it is me. But even were it me (and I do consider myself correct in all of the beliefs I currently hold; that's the very thing it means to "believe" them), I would still want to be on guard against the possibility of error, just as I may have the constitution to be able to smoke, eat, drink, never exercise, and still live to 100, fit as a fiddle... but regardless, I still plan on exercising, refraining from smoking, eating sensibly, and etc. Just as we should have good physical habits, should we wish to remain healthy, we also need good mental habits, to guard against error. Agreed. I agree with you that, should a person discover an internal contradiction and fail to correct it (to the extent that he is able), this would represent a moral failure. The thing is, with respect to this thread, that evasion works against an individual's ability to recognize that he is holding a contradiction in the first place, by keeping him from focusing on some particular evidence, argument or what have you, sufficiently to see it. And so, we cannot wait for the insight of seeing an explicit contradiction among our conscious thoughts -- not if we mean to work against our own potential to evade. We must be sensitive to more subtle clues, focusing and guiding our thoughts accordingly, such that we can come to discover any contradictions in our thought -- and then work to correct them. I think that what I mean by pursing the experience of being proven wrong by others is to create a general attitude or mindset that fosters the ability to recognize a contradiction; so I don't see this as choosing one versus the other, but aspects of the same general approach. This is in contrast to those who dread being proven wrong (I suspect a common condition), which I think hampers and impairs the ability to recognize a contradiction through evasion.

I've threatened to do this for quite some time... so I guess now is as good a time as any. There's been some discussion on this topic recently, and I'm not opposed to importing quotes -- but for this OP, I'd like to start fresh. I don't have a particular thesis or argument, but I would like to explore the topic of "evasion," and importantly how it intersects with ethics. That is, given "evasion" (however we conceive of it, though obviously that's central to the discussion) what do we do about it? How do we recognize and deal with evasion in others? How do we recognize and deal with evasion in ourselves. Let me back up for a moment. The first time I ever dealt with evasion, and recognized it as such, was long before reading Rand/discovering Objectivism. I'm sure I didn't use the word "evasion" to describe the phenomenon -- probably something like "denial" would have been quicker to my mind -- but I was debating the Biblical story of the Garden of Eden with a Christian friend of mine, and I wished to make a point by reference to the text of Genesis. I didn't have a copy on-hand, but I was certain that my friend must keep a copy (and we were at his home). I asked him to break out his Bible, so that I could demonstrate the textual basis of my argument -- show that the Bible really did say what I claimed that it did -- and... my friend refused. He did not want to look at the Bible, to see whether I was right or wrong. He didn't want to know. Now, I know that many people will think that this is besides the point. "Evasion" is an internal phenomenon, a subconscious phenomenon, and so it is. You can't see it happen. I agree. But I have come to believe that evasion often has surface features and effects which may be recognized and addressed. It's kind of like a "tell" in poker: you can't see the other person's cards, but you can see their reaction to their cards, and often people have a characteristic reaction, depending on their hand. That is information, and just like any information, we can try to make sense of it through our best use of reason (bearing in mind the context that we may easily make mistakes in doing so; and sometimes you bet in poker on the basis of what you think you know, and lose). Usually, this doesn't take the form of someone specifically refusing to look at something -- refusing to look through the proverbial (or literal) telescope -- though sometimes it does. But especially through a long history of debate and conversation, on this forum and elsewhere, what I've found is more often a pronounced reluctance or resistance to specific argument. There are untold arguments where someone has made a claim of, "I will get to that point soon," and then they never, ever do. Not even if it is brought up time and again, or made a point of emphasis. This is not, in itself, proof of anything, let alone "evasion," but especially in context I consider it my best means of determining when a partner in conversation is focused and oriented (in the manner that they would need to be to determine their own error, should I be correct) or otherwise. When examples go unaddressed, when my arguments are paraphrased incorrectly (sometimes wildly so), when questions are asked but never answered, and so forth, it is all information that helps me to see whether someone is engaging with the discussion... or perhaps deflecting it. And then, in myself, I wonder: how should I know it, if I evade? Because I take it for granted (though perhaps I shouldn't) that a person does not have conscious awareness of his own evasion; if he had conscious awareness, it wouldn't be evasion. That's what makes it so damned troublesome! What I have found in others, I look for in myself. I look for the effects of evasion, rather than counting on my ability to detect it, as such (or rather than what I fear most do, which is to implicitly assume that I am the only human on earth somehow immune to evasion, of my nature). When I feel reluctant to address some argument or answer some question directly, I try to make it a point of emphasis to do exactly what I am initially disinclined to do. If a question is asked of me, and I fear that my answer will somehow put me at a rhetorical disadvantage, because my instinctive answer somehow "sounds bad" for me or the point I'm trying to make, I consider it doubly important to answer the question directly, and to try to assess whether what I consider a "rhetorical disadvantage" isn't actually just me being wrong about something. I may also choose to answer such a question at length, in an attempt to explain myself more fully, or provide the proper context for interpreting my answer, but I don't let it pass unaddressed because it seems "easier" or feels more comfortable. I fear that those emotional cues, sometimes, may actually be symptoms of an attempt at evasion. For as I'd recently mentioned elsewhere, I have come to regard evasion as a sort of psychological self-defense mechanism. I think no one is immune. When I try to imagine the extremes of evasion, what I come up with is something like "dissociative identity disorder." To be very honest, I'm not certain whether that's a real phenomenon or not (or the extent, at least, of its "reality"). But suppose that it is. My layman's perspective on it is that it might make sense for a person, in a given context, to "go to war with reality" to some certain extent in order to preserve one's sanity otherwise. To pretend that some outrageous forms of abuse (especially in early childhood) are not truly happening to the self, but "someone else." It is a desperate measure in the face of the truly horrendous, and it portends a lifetime of difficulty and recovery, but in some cases it might still be better than the alternative. I think that, to lesser or greater extents, evasion is a subconscious means of such self or "ego" preservation. With my Christian friend (and I sorely wish that I had this level of insight then), it's worth asking: what would he need to defend? What vested interest does a teenager (as we both were) have in the details of the story of bleeding Genesis, such that his emotions would scream at him to avoid looking at his own professed Holy Book? Well, only everything. He'd been raised Christian, in a Christian family, in a Christian community. Though it may not be so simple as this, he regarded his own understanding of the universe -- and his own morality, his own self -- as being based upon his beliefs in the Bible. So... if he were wrong about that, even to the smallest degree, what would that mean for... his beliefs about literally everything else? What would it mean for his regard for his family, for his friends, for himself (in that he had been so thoroughly taken in)? Having been so wrong about this, how could he ever again trust himself going forward? It's an immensity to consider. And I think that this lies at the heart of the pushback against thought, against evidence, that evasion fundamentally represents. Our survival, our happiness, our lives and all that this represents, depends upon our ability to think, and to be right. And so the possibility of being wrong (and sometimes thoroughly wrong) feels like an attack on our very lives. Evasion, then, is the fear of pain that being wrong, and all that it entails, made manifest at the subconscious level... and then represented at the conscious level by emotional reactions and biases that shade our responses, choices and actions, whether it be something so striking and obvious as an explicit "refusal to look," or something so subtle as an indirect answer to a direct question. Beyond looking for the "tells" I'd mentioned, resolving to answer questions directly, and etc., what can one do to fight against this tendency? I think that some of my conscious convictions have helped (or at least, so I hope). My conviction, for instance, that being wrong is no moral crime. That it is, in fact, a wondrous joy to discover my own errors -- not a slight against my ego or value, but a tribute to my ability and intelligence. This is how I have come to view debate and argument, not as a contest between enemies, but as a collaboration between allies. I do not feel put off by challenging material; I am drawn to it. (And indeed, I read Rand initially, not because I thought she would agree with me or provide me with some defense of already-held arguments... but because I thought she would disagree with me utterly, and I looked forward to the project of identifying her errors!) There is an analogy to be made here with my experience of playing games with my daughter. She does not like to lose. Of course. Nobody does. But over the course of my life -- and reflective of what I hope to instill in her early on -- I have come to view losing at games (or "failures" more generally) as being instrumental to the course of improvement... and eventual winning/success. So it is with being wrong. We are all wrong, at times. We are all probably wrong, right now, with respect to some of our beliefs. It is no moral failure to be wrong about things. But the right way of viewing this, in my opinion, is to deeply value the experience of being proved wrong. To then put ourselves in the best position possible to be proved wrong, and to embrace that feeling, embrace the difficult emotions associated with a stern challenge to one's ego, as being part of the true path towards success. And then, also, to look for the concrete manifestations that I have mentioned -- and seek out and discover others, and amend our actions accordingly. It ain't easy. I'm not always successful, either. But I believe that it's the key to addressing one's own evasion and pushing past it to discover and embrace the truth.

Holy cow, I just made the time to watch this. He refers to the word "mensch," and man, imo that's what Yaron is: a mensch. What a wonderful presentation. I don't agree with him on every point, here or elsewhere (but then, there is no human I've ever encountered with whom I could claim total agreement), but he is my kind of Objectivist.

I don't know what would qualify as "evidence" for this sort of large-scale speculation (imho, it's a bit like asking for evidence for one's vision of a counterfactual history; like, man, can you prove that this is what the world would've been like, if the Confederacy had won the Civil War...? Er, probably not). Whatever "evidence" I have is really probably just a principled approach -- a principled rejection of fatalism and predestination, and a belief that people can change their beliefs and change their ways, because people have volition. Perhaps this is even more "sense of life" than belief, strictly speaking; I'm unsure, but it is my honest perspective... Anyways, I think we would agree that the world is in a lot of trouble at the moment and that things are getting worse. Culturally, for all I can tell, the US is in the worst shape it's been in my lifetime, though perhaps not the worst shape in its history (the aforementioned Confederacy coming during a time when people were literally owned, as chattel, and a nation was created -- for the purpose of defending actual, literal human slavery... which triggered the bloodiest war in our history; that was bad, too). But the reason why I believe that Objectivists can do something about the state of the world, specifically, is because I believe that Objectivists have truth on their side; I believe in the unrivaled power of this ally, and that -- as I've said -- philosophy has the power to move the world. Whatever problems we have now can largely be accounted to bad philosophy; the cure, then, is good philosophy -- and that puts Objectivists in a unique position, because I regard Objectivism as not only the best philosophy, but the only true philosophy. Now... that doesn't mean we have a magic wand we can wave and right wrongs. You're right that the idea of turning the world around is a difficult proposal and one that will take time. In fact, before Objectivists can do something about the world, we first probably have to do something about making the Objectivist community itself better and stronger (though at heart this may be the very same project)... But if the rebirth of the world is going to happen, it has to start somewhere, somehow. I'm not giving up on that. After all, this is my world. You're right that the spread of ideas takes time, although I would guess that it's never been easier than right now, or potentially faster, due to the great leverage of technology. Regardless, that's the direction we need to travel. If it takes longer than my lifetime to achieve our end goal (as it certainly would, even if we Objectivists were all on the same page, and armed with great ideas and resources), then we can still make things better, or as best as we can, for ourselves and our children. I'm reminded of Rand's famous quote, "Anyone who fights for the future, lives in it today." I think there's great poetic truth to that sentiment, but the key is: we must fight for the future. Again, I think it's the wrong frame of reference to approach this as "taking responsibility for others' thoughts"; yes, thought belongs to the thinker. But we absolutely can (and must) take responsibility for our own efforts, in communicating our ideas. I attempted to draw an analogy between this and teaching. I think it is apt, and I would invite you to consider it. We would not discourage a teacher looking to sharpen his approach, even if the student must take responsibility for his own efforts in learning. And that's as much as I am proposing. If the point is, well, some people will never be reached... then maybe I agree with that. But I don't think it follows that better efforts will not produce better results. I think better efforts would. I think better efforts means more Objectivists, a better penetration of Objectivism into the culture, into the classroom, and eventually a better world. But the "direction of history" is made of individual souls. And even if all we are discussing is sweeping up the occasional soul, who knows what one such soul might contribute to that direction of history? Ayn Rand was, herself, one such soul. We probably would not have predicted her, had we lived before she did. (And as to whether her efforts have significantly affected the direction of history, I have no idea; I have no idea what the US, for instance, would have been like without her efforts... without her influence on libertarianism, and conservatism, and perhaps even liberalism. It doesn't have to be recognized or acknowledged to be real.) This may seem a left-field example, but Christianity really only needed one convert, Constantine, to utterly remake the world. Our context is (to put it rather lightly) different. But still, I would not underestimate the power of a single voice in the darkness. A fountainhead, if you will. I'm not familiar with Parker otherwise, but what a great line. I don't see any great disparity between reaching those few people (hopefully more than otherwise, through improved methods) and effecting meaningful social change. The change could be incremental or it could be exponential -- as we acquire greater footholds in culture, media, academia, etc., then it is possible that even the unconvinced will be more open to reason, as such, closer to our way of thinking (even while holding explicit disagreement). And thus we might find that our efforts are met with greater and greater success as we go forward, just as a stone may start small at the top of the hill, yet snowball as it descends. But you're right that our current methods -- the approach of our predecessors -- probably is insufficient to get that ball to speed. As much as I love the ARI-sponsored essay contests, for instance, that doesn't seem to be making sufficient headway against the cultural tide. So that's the project: to find new (ideally better) ways of promoting Objectivism. I think that's surer to work than not promoting it at all.

I do agree that doing the same thing that's been done while expecting a different outcome isn't rational, very generally speaking, but not that there's nothing that Objectivists can do about the state of the world, or the direction it's currently heading in. (Medieval Europe, perhaps, didn't look so rosy until Aristotle's rediscovery; why oughtn't the world enjoy a Randian Renaissance?) I think, rather, that Objectivists should take stock of the methods we've used, our approach in engaging the wider world, the way we communicate ourselves and our ideas, and make some changes. One of my takeaways from reading Rand is that philosophy has the power to move the world; I still believe that's true. Are we including Rand's own efforts in writing essays to describe her philosophy, and etc.? Because as far as I can tell, she designed arguments in order to convince others of what she believed to be true, which is part and parcel to what I consider "proselytization." For what it's worth, that worked for me. I believe that changing peoples' minds is a difficult task, but if we instead frame this in terms of learning how to make arguments (and other sorts of presentations; "argument," as I conceive of it, need not be so formal as an essay or a debate), how to approach people and groups diplomatically or tactfully, how to make better use of academic infrastructure or the media, how to make inroads into the culture, and such -- if that's how we think of our efforts, then I think we stand a better shot of success, on our own terms. It's kind of like, if I ask how I can force students to learn some given material... well, that's a difficult notion. Just like you can lead a whore to culture (which conjures Allen's Whore of Mensa to my mind) but you cannot make her think, so too you cannot make a student learn. Yet teachers can (and ideally do) strive to sharpen their pedagogical skills, so that they can make the best use of whatever skills the students provide, leverage whatever efforts the student is willing to perform, and hopefully incite further effort. There are reasonable people in the world, some to a lesser extent, some to a high degree -- and not all of them are Objectivists (to put it lightly). I'm not satisfied that, because we have not yet figured out the best means of outreach, that means that we will not be able to do so going forward. You're doing fine. I'm weighing my options about starting the thread I've long had in mind... but I enjoy and appreciate the conversation in the meantime.

I don't think this is true. I think it's an interesting notion, being "committed to evasion." Someday -- and it's sooner now than ever -- I plan on opening up a topic to really try to explore evasion... but in the meantime, do we think it's true that people are committed to evasion? Were it so, how could any of us survive? We depend upon reason for survival itself (whether or not we account "survival," in any sense, the standard of value ). And so I think that we in the West, as elsewhere, must be open to reason to some certain extent. And if we manage marvels, like constructing skyscrapers, conquering disease, etc. -- and we do -- then that is all the more evidence that reason carries great sway among men. And Objectivism, as truth, has literally everything worth valuing to offer. If we can get it right -- as we must attempt to do for ourselves, our own sakes, let alone proselytization -- then we have the formula for earthly happiness, inclusive of all values and virtues, including "fun." I'm taking a bit of a flyer, and I'd rather discuss this in full when I do commit to a topic on evasion, but I suspect that it does not come out of nowhere, unmotivated. I suspect that it's something like a psychological defense mechanism... and as such, I think that there are means by which we may come to understand evasion, such that we could be more or less effective in communicating our message. I don't think it's hopeless or fruitless. I think we can do better.

Yes, that's also what I got from the podcast. But it appears to have been a central aspect of his labors -- so much so that he's glad to field the question whether he himself is happy, now that he can finally answer in the affirmative. I am unconvinced of this, though I doubt that Peikoff would ever have described himself as miserable, generally (or at least, I hope not). But I think that there are many miserable people in the world who manage to live very long lives, and perhaps even lives that are "successful" by many measures, and to all outward appearances. Yet I do not call a life of misery a "success," not even if one lasts. Lasting isn't the point. It's a good question. But again, what I can say about this personally is: if I was dreading doing something (let alone every day) it would compel me immediately to find some alternative (i.e. as soon as I could identify it), because I would not be content with such a situation. It would certainly be worth it to me to try new things. In a way, it comes back around to our view of "consequences," and how that factors into our ethical thinking. We cannot say that, if a man is unhappy into his 80s (not that this describes Peikoff), therefore he must have made some kind of mistake; maybe he was on the right track the whole time and, circumstances being what they were, it simply took that long to get there (not being fortunate enough to be introduced to a certain discipline, for instance, although I have reason to believe that Peikoff was introduced to fiction writing early enough, and in a noteworthy way). But in this case, given who Peikoff is, it nevertheless strikes me as rather alarming; it's like, if it was this hard for Peikoff to achieve happiness, given what we might grant is an unusual level of insight, of introspective ability, of education, of knowledge of ethical theory, etc., etc., then what chance do the rest of us stand? But my own answer to that is: perhaps, despite all of his other substantial advantages, he was looking at things in slightly the wrong way. At the very least, perhaps there is a difference between how he views "life as the standard of value," and applies it to his circumstances, as against my own views and application. I admire it as well. Oh, there are so many ways I could respond to this... But I'll put it this way: whatever challenges this forum presents me (and they are many), they are not central enough to my life such that this forum could cause me to hesitate on the question of whether or not I am happy overall. If it were that central (like my profession), and if it were causing me misery, I would drop it in a hot minute. (To be very honest, even given the level of participation I have, there are times when I sincerely question my investment; there is no other area in my life where I am quite as close to "shrugging" as trying to have reasonable and pleasant conversations with folks who, in theory, should be quite reasonable... and, dare I say it, even pleasant.) I have my college degree and a five year old child; I'm quite familiar with tolerating pain for the sake of achievement. But even in my quest for the truth -- which began in earnest when I was quite young -- I have found and adopted pleasant means to that end. I think it fitting that this should be so, because I have come to hold that even the "quest for truth" is not an end in itself, but that it serves the greater purpose of enjoying a good life (rhetorical emphasis on "enjoy"). I am willing to tolerate great pains, after all, for the sake of greater pleasures, and chiefly happiness. But that is the end towards which I am oriented, and as such is my orientation, I look to reduce or eliminate my experience of pain along the way -- and increase my experience of pleasure -- insofar as I am able, because that is how I mean to achieve my end. Life isn't exclusively some "future" end: life is right now and all the time, and so, as far as I can reckon, if I am not fundamentally happy right now, I am doing something wrong. If my daily activities, especially, are not bringing me happiness, then there is a problem which needs addressing (whether the "problem" in question is one of the activity, itself, or my perspective on it; the experience of emotion is information, but as it is not a "tool of cognition," the specific course of action remains to be determined through reason). But that's just it. I'm not convinced that all Objectivists are "actively pursuing" happiness; I think that there are some people who are convinced (to greater and lesser extents, implicitly or consciously) that one does not actively pursue happiness at all, but rather pursues things according to some other standard (even bare-bones survival)... and then happiness will (hopefully) be the pleasant byproduct of achieving one's values. But I don't think this describes reality. I don't think it's a good recipe to achieve happiness. I'm not so concerned about the idea of people who consider themselves happy, but are not; it's true that emotions take knowledge and skill to identify correctly (not through evasion alone; as a parent, it has been an interesting endeavor to teach my daughter how to recognize and describe her internal states), but I am mostly interested in how one achieves actual happiness in reality. In any event, I do not think that my experience of happiness and that of the mystic (as such) is equivalent, or that it is right to describe even the pleasant emotions the mystic (again, as such) feels as happiness. I think that happiness is a real, objective phenomenon, and that it requires knowledge and effort to achieve it. It requires a science: the science of ethics. I hear you and I agree with you to a large extent (the challenges people face in modern society are enormous, and Objectivists are not immune). But still, there's something to be said for considering one's profession (even if only to some large degree) as dreary or what have you, such that you dread your daily efforts, and how inimical this is to human happiness. And if human happiness is your goal, as I believe it ought to be, then, given the proper ethical stance, I think it should inspire change. As for Peikoff, it did in the end; but were it me, I would not wait so long. And I think differences in approach of this sort -- and their results -- are down in large part to how we view and value our daily experience of life, our pleasures and our pains, and how we incorporate that sort of information into our ethics and decision making. That's why I want to get this right. Me too, and I am happy for him. Hear hear.

From another thread, I found this fascinating: I don't want to read too much into this podcast, or to put too much upon one man's experiences (even if that man is Leonard Peikoff), but really, I found this not only fascinating in itself but that it speaks directly to -- not necessarily the technical specifics of this ongoing conversation, but -- my basic approach and motivation. Peikoff describes himself as finally fully happy at age 81 (though I'm certain he must have enjoyed himself to some extent throughout his life), and he attributes this to having discovered what he "really wants to do in life" (as opposed to at least some portion of his work theretofore, which he "dreaded"). To me, in my life, such a thing is simply unacceptable. I would not want to wait until I'm 81 to be able to describe myself as "finally fully happy" and in fact I have not waited. Though I have challenges and setbacks from day to day, as I expect everyone must, and sometimes severe or lasting ones, I consider myself happy in all of the major areas of life. In part, I believe this is because I have always paid careful attention to my own experiences, cared about them, and have taken action accordingly. When I have pursued paths that I dreaded (and I have), including career aspirations or personal relationships, etc., I took that as a cue that there was something fundamentally amiss, and in need of investigation/change. I did not accept my own unhappiness as being somehow the price of moral action, but I sought (both without and within) to make things better for myself, as much as within my power, as soon as possible. I have put nothing higher than my own experience of life -- to make it as positive as possible -- and I think that this emphasis has rewarded me. If Peikoff could not have described himself as "fully happy" before this late juncture, then I suppose we must be thankful for his longevity. What a tragedy it would have been, had he died never being able to say that about himself. I'm middle-aged, myself. A week ago, I was involved in a car accident -- that's one of those pesky challenges/setbacks! -- and actually, it was a situation that I've often brought up in various discussion about ethics: I was stopped, behind some other cars, but another car (a couple back) failed to stop, and there was a domino effect, leading to my being rear-ended. No one was injured, thankfully, but sometimes things don't work out so well. Can we imagine if I were pursuing an ethics that might not lead me to happiness until I'm in my 80s (if ever)... and then I die decades beforehand, whilst dreading my daily work? What a waste that would be. No thank you. I would rather enjoy myself along the way, as much as possible, so that on the day I die (be it tomorrow or fifty years from now), it will always be correct to say that I was happy. From yet another thread, I recently found this: I don't know what dream_weaver had specifically in mind when he wrote this -- and frankly I don't know what to make of it, if we are disinclined to discuss various interpretations of Ayn Rand's wording on a board such as this -- but I will say that I believe it really, deeply matters how we understand and approach ethics. I think it can make the difference between being able to achieve happiness now, or having to wait until old age... if we ever reach it at all, if we don't die first, our attempts at "survival" notwithstanding. If the Objectivist community has a hard time winning converts -- and based on many threads here lately, and based on the overall state of the world, and the way things appear to be trending, I'd say that we do -- then maybe part of it is that we don't manage to produce very many well-adjusted, friendly, happy people. Maybe the confusion at the heart of our approach to ethics, a confusion reflected in this thread and many others on the board, is playing a role in that, inspiring people to fight for "survival" (whatever that should mean to them) at the cost of the things which might otherwise bring them happiness in the near(er) future or present. I'd say that if, when people met Objectivists, they were inspired to think, "Wow! That person really has life figured out; look how well they're doing! Look how happy!" that this would go at least as far as a free copy of Atlas Shrugged in convincing them to investigate the nature of the underlying philosophy. Maybe farther.

Not through it yet, but this is effing brilliant. I'd love to see things like this -- or perhaps this guy specifically (if he's still active; I guess it's been a while since this was filmed) -- get some love in the culture, or financial backing, or ideally both.

Not to derail the conversation, but I would love to see the effects of this anecdote on many of the conversations I've seen over the years regarding quantum physics and the like...

I agree. I would argue that such a parent values something more than his own, literal survival. Galt, too, apparently valued something more than his own, literal survival, when he threatened suicide rather than bear Dagny's torture (at least, if we can take him at his word). I consider these situations to be very similar in nature. Ethics, or morality, "is a code of values to guide man’s choices and actions." The parent above is guided in his choices and actions by his code of values, as is Galt, unless we hold them to be acting arbitrarily/by whim? But I don't think that they are. Yet their choices and actions indicate that they do not hold their own, literal survival as their "ultimate value." They value something else more. We do not require Rand or Peikoff to state that these are "ethical" reasons or considerations or decisions; it is what it is, and we can figure it out on our own. (Casting around, I found this defense of "moral suicide" which essentially -- though not totally -- agrees with my own, if anyone is interested. It is curious to note that the writer leads with Galt's willingness to commit suicide, then fails to justify it in his analysis; I do not know whether that was intentional, an oversight, or an irony.)

Of course. The document to which I've been referring can be found here, and the quotes I've provided starting on p.73 (under the heading Flourishing and Survival).

I do not believe that there are only two approaches on display in this thread, flourishing versus survival. Rather, I believe that there are nearly as many distinct conceptions of "life as the standard of value" as there are participants in this thread. Not everyone who adopts the term "survival" to describe what they mean are referring to the very same thing*, and the same is true of those who endorse "flourishing." Though on that point, I don't think that either "survival" or "flourishing," as typically used, are ideal labels for my own idea of "life" in this context. _______________________ * I know that "survival" is sometimes preferred for the fact that it is, in theory, unambiguous. We all know what "survival" is, after all, when we use it to mean "the bare alternative of life versus death." But when such a thing is tested against certain raised examples (like Harrison's theoretical), then "survival" usually is held no longer to refer alone to "existence versus non-existence," but a specific kind of existence -- "existence as a man" -- which requires more than satisfying the bare alternative of life versus death, more than simply choosing to exist over not-existing. And thus, circuitously, he arrives at the "flourisher's" basic stance after all. But Kelley's central question remains: how do we decide what goes into "flourishing" (even if this is put as "survival qua man" or etc.), or as he has it, "what gets included in the expanded idea of 'human life?'" Responses to various hypotheticals and situations, I think, are almost more useful at this point than an attempt to define our positions abstractly. It helps me to understand various positions (including my own), for instance, to see responses like this. I disagree that a person "who has not chosen to live" (which I regard a specious formulation) has, therefore, no "reasoned ground" to value anything -- even if alone the terms of their own death, and whether or not their loved ones are harmed in the process. When a parent makes some sort of "self-sacrifice" for the sake of preserving their childrens' lives, for instance, I don't think that means that the parent has no longer any "reasoned ground" to value their children. For this is another way of restating, and begging, the survivalist's central premise: that the ultimate value is survival itself. Thus a parent should never be willing to die to save his child's life. But if we believe that, in some situations, it would be reasonable for a parent to do so... well then, we are appealing to some "more ultimate" value than his own individual survival. And that value remains, even when the parent has chosen against his own, literal survival. And I disagree with this, as well. It is my understanding that Rand, Peikoff, and others, have spoken in support of suicide in certain circumstances, and I believe that support is consonant with both my understanding of "life as the standard of value," and Objectivism more generally.

If we conceive of "left" and "right" as they are popularly and historically used, then Objectivism does not sit on either side, nor in the center. Rather, we must project a different spectrum, with both the left and right on one side (the "statist" end), extremists (Nazis, Communists, etc.) at the extremity and Objectivism on the far side from that (the "liberty" end).

My apologies for the confusion. Rather, I was asking from the point of view of the suicidal man. Invictus had responded to Harrison, saying that to the man who no longer wishes to live, the choice of whether to blow up a bus of innocents alongside himself has no "value significance," meaning (as I take it) that such an act would be neither moral nor immoral (again: from the suicidal man's perspective), but amoral. My observation, meant to challenge this (if lightly), is that I do not believe that in reality people who decide to commit suicide would attach zero "value significance" to their method of suicide; I think that most suicides, even in their last moments, would consider drinking hemlock to be far more ethical than blowing up the proverbial (or literal) nuns and orphans. But is this irrational? If an Objectivist were to decide to commit suicide, making whatever "amoral" or "pre-moral" decision no longer to value life that we imagine such people do (which I am not convinced is actually a thing that exists, but whatever) -- then should that Objectivist consider all potential manners of exit (including the slaughter of others) ethically equivalent? Perhaps. Though based on my own understanding of "life as the standard of value," I would argue that I yet have reasoned value significance for opting not to harm those I love, even in the event of taking my own life... it is only the survivalist perspective, I believe, that necessitates that the suicidal man has no moral reason to prefer one method of suicide to any other. Just then as a psa, if I ever decided to take my own life, it would still be safe to sit next to me on the bus; but I would not necessarily sit by a survivalist and count upon his "emotion and habit."

It wouldn't be "alright". And it wouldn't be unethical, either. Your action -- to you -- would have no value significance whatsoever, since you had abandoned the standard by which values get significance. Here's what I find fascinating about this, in contemplation... When I suppose a person who has decided to commit suicide, in most contexts, I imagine that most such people -- even if they are quite serious about killing themselves -- would 1) have no desire to bring harm to others, and 2) would consider it unethical of themselves to kill themselves in such a way as to bring harm to others, in the manner of suicide bombers or etc. Given two proposed suicidal methods, one which hurts others (let's say loved ones), and one that merely ends the life of the individual who has chosen to take his own life, but not bringing harm to those he loves, do we think that it's true of most suicidal people (let alone all) that there is no value significance whatsoever between them?

Let me welcome you to the discussion with an earnest (if brief) reply. I agree with this. It is the stuff of what makes such a compromise "worth it" (or otherwise) which appears to cause such controversy. You make a compelling case, and again one with which I essentially agree. What I see you doing is comparing the qualitative experience of choosing one avenue versus another (or one "compromise" versus another), an experience which is felt in terms of (what I would describe as) "pleasures" and "pains." This is also how I would make such a decision, and I suspect that I would come to the same basic conclusions. This would be so even if whatever choice we are considering would "make the Hero live five years longer," which I do not consider to be a compelling factor, as such; rather, in the pain-filled life you describe, five additional years may potentially be regarded as a curse rather than a blessing. I agree with this, and some people may then start to speak in terms of "flourishing" (which seems apt to describe your second rose) or throwing around "quas" or etc., which is why, I suspect, David Kelley was so insistent on not expanding the meaning of survival, but keeping it delimited to "existence versus non-existence." And it is also why I disagree with him.

The Survivalist would like to attempt a fuller response to your post in the near future, but in the meantime, would you mind providing a Minimoralist response to the hypothetical as framed by Invictus2017 here: How does the Minimoralist regard this?

Hi Easy Truth, Advocating against the position I am taking now (as devil's advocate) is literally what I consider myself to have been doing throughout my entire participation in this thread (and for far longer than that, actually); so I would refer you to my other posts in this thread for the substance of what I am sincerely advocating, and also the other threads to which I have sometimes linked. I also attempted the briefest possible of summaries when I wrote: I don't know whether that will serve to help you to understand what I am advocating -- for I fear that I have done a poor job of it -- but that's precisely why I'm trying something different now. Yes, that's why I don't particularly relish this form of argument... it's difficult enough to communicate complex ideas, sincerely held, in anything like a clear manner; it is especially hard to be able to put something you don't quite believe in, into terms that sound plausible (and it isn't a particularly pleasant thing to do, of itself). And it may be that I'm not doing a great job of it, either, but I would ask for your patience while I make the attempt. If I could, I would advise to simply take my devil's advocacy at face value, for the time being; pretend as though I am sincere in my Comic Sans voice, and respond accordingly. If there is anything to be gained from this exercise (and I concede that there may not be anything to be gained; I simply may not yet have the tools to convey my perspective... or I may be wrong), then I believe that's how we would best do it. For the sake of understanding (whether I am speaking my mind sincerely or as "devil's advocate"), it may be necessary to go beyond the very first sentence of my argument, even where you find it nonsensical. But all right, we can start here... ______________________________ We say that our "ultimate value" is survival, do we not? But what does it mean that this is our "ultimate value"? Per Rand, an ultimate value "is that final goal or end to which all lesser goals are the means." If survival is our ultimate value (where "survival" means the literal alternative of life or death, existence or non-existence), then every other value that we have (everything else that we act to gain or to keep) is a means to that end. To the extent that we value (act to gain or keep) a given emotional state, such as happiness, it is only as a means to the end of survival. Happiness and other forms of pleasure, whether physical or spiritual or otherwise, provide us necessary fuel "to move farther," as surely as food and water. This is why we may regard happiness (or food or water) as "good," in that capacity. But it is only good in that capacity -- because it helps us to survive. Should the pursuit of happiness turn against our survival, it would be evil in that measure (just as too much food, or the wrong kind of food, may make a man sick; just as too much water will drown). In the hypothetical to which I am responding, the (so-called) Hero is seeking an emotional experience of happiness at the cost of his own survival. This is sacrificing a greater value for a lesser value -- in fact, it is the sacrifice of his ultimate value, his very life, which is the necessary precondition for the experience of happiness or anything else. It is grossly immoral.

If y'all wouldn't mind, I'd like to try something a little different: I would like to play "devil's advocate," and -- since no one here will lay claim to the title "survivalist" (even if I believe that some extant arguments amount to the same thing), I shall adopt that mantle, for the purpose of exploring these issues further. I should say from the outset that I do not typically enjoy "devil's advocate" style arguments, on either side of them, and I do not expect that I engage in them particularly well. But I struggle with the impression that, as yet, I still have not successfully conveyed my thoughts on these matters... and I hope that a fresh perspective might help me to do that better. (Or, if I am wrong about any aspect of this debate, perhaps taking on a fresh perspective will show me something I hadn't seen before.) In an attempt to keep things at least somewhat clear, I'll adopt the convention of using Comic Sans MS font while taking the "survivalist" side (and the default of Arial when providing straight commentary). Like this. Happiness is a means to an end. Man's proper ultimate end is his own survival. It is proper, therefore, to value happiness insofar as it functions as a fuel, to help one to survive, and no more than that. Valuing a pleasant feeling emotion at the cost of one's literal survival is choosing non-existence over existence, and is thus immoral. It is not always the case that one gets positive emotions from ethical action, or negative emotions from unethical action; if that were so, then yes -- one could simply be guided by his positive emotions. But sometimes unethical actions (meaning: actions which work against the literal survival of the organism) will produce positive emotions in some individuals, or ethical actions may trigger some negative-feeling experience of emotion. This is precisely when the rational application of a survival-oriented code of ethics is necessary, to guide our actions. The case you describe is just such a situation. If our "Hero" is guided by his emotions, then they will lead to his literal destruction. That is whim worship. Whatever it is you mean by "continuing to live," it is not possible without "simple survival." Valuing "continuing to live" at the cost of "simple survival" is illogical, it smuggles subjectivity into the standard of "life" (emotionalism). For remember, "it is the bare fundamental alternative of survival versus death that stands at the root of all values." Our hero faces that bare, fundamental alternative and chooses death over survival -- for what? The experience of some emotional thrill. It may not be the "only factor of significance" whether he continues to carry out the process of life, as such, but that does function as "the basic criterion of ethics": "the literal alternative of life versus death, existence versus nonexistence." "Continuing to live," objectively, requires continuing to carry out the process of life. It is therefore immoral to value anything above one's very ability to carry out the process of life, and since your hypothetical stipulates that pursuing "his life-long dream"* will impair his ability to carry out the process of life (more substantially than the alternative), it is choosing literal death over literal life, nonexistence over existence. ______________________________ * A rational person should not value anything more than his own survival in the first place; a rational person -- a true Hero -- would not value a "dream" if pursuing that dream came at the cost of his own life, and it should consequently not provide him happiness, either in contemplation or actuality. A true Hero would be happier staying safely at home (not that this happiness is material, of course, except as a fuel towards further survival). Remember that, "although Ayn Rand made it clear that she meant her morality to ensure a rich, fully human life, it is the bare fundamental alternative of survival versus death that stands at the root of all values." Therefore, this "health" you speak of, if it is to have objective value consistent with these ethics, must fundamentally contribute to the organism's life with respect to the bare fundamental alternative of survival versus death. If our Hero's choice is to go, satisfying his emotions, then his emotions are working against his own survival; they are not healthy. This is a situation where "following one's emotions would not be right": they are not consistent with "the most basic criterion of ethics," which is survival, "the literal alternative of life versus death, existence versus nonexistence." If one's "dreams" and "emotions" lead one to literal destruction, then they are unhealthy, and to follow them against an objective code of morality is whim worship, subjective, and immoral. Whether it is the case that this trip would bring a person happiness, or not, is immaterial; it is worth keeping in mind that "an ethical person examines the facts and determines which alternative best promotes his survival." In this case, the alternative which best promotes the Hero's survival is to find another dream.

I don't know that anyone has been arguing for that position consistently, or has identified themselves accordingly, but yes; for instance, when StrictlyLogical responded to my ice cream hypothetical by saying, "According to my standard of morality, choosing a life of eating ice cream with a slightly shorter duration is immoral," I think that the essence on display is survivalism (as we have been using it). You bypass my express disinterest in trying to determine what Kelley's views are, specifically, to make an argument about Kelley's views? A significant choice. But okay. If we are to do so, then let us take note of his specific language. He is quite clear in talking about "survival," as a "bare fundamental alternative," as "the most basic criterion." If one accepts this, then it seems clear to me that it would lead one directly to StrictlyLogical's stance regarding ice cream: that is an application of using the bare fundamental alternative of "existence versus non-existence" as one's "basic criterion" for deciding upon a course of action -- whether to eat ice cream or not. And, too, the Hero should reject the trip into space, because choosing the thing that will kill you more quickly is, to that extent, choosing "non-existence" over "existence." If "existence versus non-existence" is one's "basic criterion," then there should never be cause to take "non-existence" any sooner than is beyond our control: one should always take "existence." (And after all, the province of morality is only that which is in our control.) If we mean to say that, well, in a sense, "man qua man" ceases to exist somehow when he is unhappy, or acting against "his nature," or something, and therefore the Hero who rejects the trip into space wins himself four more years of technical existence at the cost of who knows how many years of existence in his proper state, and that this therefore represents a sacrifice, well -- that's fine. That's actually something close to my own view. But that is not "the literal alternative of life versus death" to which Kelley plainly refers. And if, in your reread, you discover material which you consider to be inconsistent with a view of Kelley as a "survivalist" -- that's fine, too. It does not matter to me what our ultimate verdict is on the proper label for Kelley's views, as I had tried to express earlier, and I do not expect him to be a consistent advocate for any position, in any event; I believe that these matters are deeply unsettled for the Objectivist community, generally, and that this results in some of the controversies we can find in this thread and many others across the forum (and beyond). I absolutely do believe that happiness is fundamental to the good life (but that the good life is not the experience of happiness alone); I utterly disagree that this is "something like hedonism." If Rand was right when she wrote, "Hedonism is the doctrine which holds that the good is whatever gives you pleasure and, therefore, pleasure is the standard of morality," then this is not what I have advocated at all (and moreover, it is a stance that I have explicitly disavowed and argued against, albeit primarily in other threads). In the same place where Rand defined "hedonism" as above (her Playboy interview), she goes on to say, "I hold that one cannot achieve happiness by random, arbitrary or subjective means," and I agree wholeheartedly. I believe that happiness can be achieved by rational, objective means (that this is, in fact, the only way to achieve happiness) -- and that is what I advocate we do (though again, not this alone: rather, we should strive to live [long] lives characterized by pleasure and happiness). She then says, "One can achieve happiness only on the basis of rational values. By rational values, I do not mean anything that a man may arbitrarily or blindly declare to be rational. It is the province of morality, of the science of ethics, to define for men what is a rational standard and what are the rational values to pursue," and again I agree. But if the point to this ethical pursuit is the achievement of happiness, then I hope I am not putting too fine a point on it when I say that happiness is not merely some pleasant-feeling emotional byproduct of a life lived according to some other standard (e.g. "survival" in Kelley's "bare" sense) -- let alone a value only because it provides some "fuel" for the task of survival, as I have depressingly sometimes seen argued -- but it is fundamental to our ethics, and indeed it is our essential motivation for creating a "science of ethics" in the first place. There's plenty of (important, necessary) wrangling that can be done with respect to how precisely happiness relates to one's "standard of value," or "purpose," or how it relates to "life," or "the good life" as I'm using it -- since I am yet in the stage of trying to formulate this to my own satisfaction, I cannot claim to be able to do it with anything like precision yet (and I would not try) -- but yes, I am confident in saying that happiness is fundamental. It is fundamental to ethics, it is fundamental to the choices we make, it is fundamental to the good life, is it fundamental to living on earth (or accepting a mission into deep space) -- and if the Objectivist Ethics (or any other) promised the moon but failed to deliver happiness, it should be discarded immediately for that reason, such is its fundamentality: We judge ethical truth on the basis of its ability to achieve happiness. That happiness should have to be argued for in this fashion, its fundamentality asserted and defended against the charge of "hedonism," is perhaps in itself a critique of survivalism, and an indication of how far this misunderstanding has corrupted Objectivist thought. ______________________________ And I am again reminded that I had wanted to keep this conversation at something like an arm's length. It is an addiction for me, and I am weak in the face of it; this conversation pulled my thoughts from pleasant dreams tonight (literally), woke me up, and pulled me out of my warm bed. In my own pursuit of the good life, I may from time to time find it necessary to stop arguing so much for the good life...

I'm heartened that you understood me; I was fearful for a little while, and felt quite discouraged, that I had utterly failed to express my meaning. I'd rather not discuss other members in these threads (I would prefer that we try, as much as possible, to discuss the ideas under consideration instead), but I will say that I consider StrictlyLogical to be very intelligent and reasonable. Though we have had disagreements in the past -- sometimes deeply held -- I rely on his understanding, and I am disposed to believe that any failure in communication between us is temporary, and can be addressed through further patient effort. If I did not believe this, as you indicate, it would be foolish of me to try to persuade him of anything. The source of the quote (which I have beaten like a drum, perhaps unfairly) is here. Please allow me to say, however, that whether I am right or wrong (or whether anyone considers me mistaken) as to David Kelley's views, as such, again: my main interest is in discussing ideas, not their proponents. If need be, I would gladly concede my argument that "Kelley believes X," and accept that he means to argue for Y or any other thing; it is enough for my purposes that anyone may potentially misinterpret Rand's views in this way (or even understand Rand's views correctly in this way, if that is the contention). I use him and his quote as a convenient reference point for what we're now referring to as "survivalism," and nothing more. (I think this caveat is especially important considering how controversial a figure Kelley can be in the Objectivist community; many people have great passions about him, personally, though I do not.) I think this is a wise choice. I accept this framing. Yes. (And this is vital for demonstrating the potential for harm that a survivalist understanding confers upon the person who holds it; or, in a word, its immorality.) Again, I agree; and this is very nearly sufficient agreement, in my opinion, because my central contention is that the survivalist understanding of "life" (vis-a-vis the Objectivist Ethics) is insufficient and thus incorrect. My references to "pleasure" or "happiness" are, in the main, my attempt to describe what I believe is missing. I do not think I have yet found the proper formulation to describe my view on this point -- but then, that's in part why I am so invested in these kinds of threads: to one day achieve that formulation and co-current understanding. Let me at least grant a temporary agreement with all of this. I'm not satisfied that I've examined the idea of "emotional health" thoroughly yet, but it raises no immediate red flags either, and seems like it might be useful to our discussion. This is the crux, both of my argument and (what I take to be) our fundamental agreement. The goal is not simple survival, but something more than that. And I relate this "something more" to happiness, and yes, to pleasure, but generally I am speaking to the quality of life, as apart from its quantity. (How this precisely relates to what you term "health," is perhaps another conversation -- and not an unimportant one, but perhaps one for another day.) And thus, when Kelley (or whomever agrees with this quote in the survivalist spirit that I maintain it reflects) says: "Although Ayn Rand made it clear that she meant her morality to ensure a rich, fully human life, it is the bare fundamental alternative of survival versus death that stands at the root of all values. Several admirers of Rand’s approach to ethics have debated the sense in which survival can serve the most basic criterion of ethics. Here we have argued that survival is the literal alternative of life versus death, existence versus nonexistence." I consider him mistaken. So that we're clear on this point, I utterly agree. Through accident, misunderstanding, or perhaps something else, I have found that sometimes others try to portray my conception as something like hedonism, my explicit disavowals notwithstanding; but no, I am not saying that one should blindly follow one's emotions, or one's pleasures, or act on whim, or etc. Rather, I am arguing for a pursuit, in reason, of a (long) life characterized by pleasure and happiness -- which I would broadly term "the good life." Agreed.

No. That's the very opposite of both what I had intended in your quote of me, and my entire meaning in this, and every other thread in which I've commented upon this subject. Invictus said, "both quantity and quality of life are ethically relevant," and when I responded, "precisely my point," it meant -- as I thought clear -- that I agreed with his statement. But obviously I have done a poor job of explaining my position, despite all of the pains I have taken. I shall have to reflect upon how I can communicate myself more clearly in the future.

Precisely my point. And I would further argue that there might be situations in which there is some conflict between quantity and quality (whether it's consumption of ice cream, a journey into space, an offer of increased lifespan at a cost, continuing a life where the woman you love has been tortured to death, or etc.). There are ways of understanding the Objectivist Ethics which maintain that quantity or longevity or etc., is the ultimate value; when Kelley describes it as "existence versus nonexistence," I argue that this is his meaning. Thus where quantity and quality are held to conflict in some way, a person must choose quantity. That is what it means to "choose life," per his argument. (If you think this is a misinterpretation of Rand's fundamental argument, so do I; but that is a separate consideration.) In my hypothetical, this means that it would be moral to refuse the space exploration -- so that one may live a few years more. I would choose differently, and whatever your reservations about hypotheticals, we must eventually put abstract discussions like these into terms of eating ice cream, or journeying to space, or something concrete, so that we can better examine the actual meaning of our ideas. However it is contrived, do you think it would ever be proper for a person to choose a path, knowing (insofar as men may know the results of their actions; insofar as we may be "certain") that it would result in a sooner death -- but a life of greater quality in the interim? In theory, the site saves draft messages automatically. I have had problems where I have reloaded the window -- and my draft message was preserved, up to the last semi-colon I had just typed... and sometimes it fails utterly, and I either retype my message or abandon the project. In the past, when composing something particularly epic (or at least long), I have sometimes independently saved my message in a text document, in case something goes awry. Usually, when I take such precautions, everything runs smooth as silk; it is only when I have no backup ready that the system knows to fail.

Yes, I'm familiar with that line of reasoning. I've also seen happiness given the same treatment. I find it utterly foreign to my experience that happiness itself should be accounted a means to an end. All of the subsequent semantic shuffling of the cards (whether we wish to say that "man qua man," or "survival as a man" somehow requires happiness -- as though we've done more, in such a case, than relabel "flourishing" -- or etc.) will not make more reasonable to me the idea that we pursue all that is positive in the world (of its nature), including happiness, as a means to continue to survive, rather than that we pursue survival so that we may continue to enjoy the fruits of living. It is utterly backwards. Hypotheticals are always a fraught business*. Whether omniscience is required for "certainty" is another discussion (and actually, one we've had together), but if we take "certainty" as "a measure of confidence, with 'certain' being one extreme," then we can reasonably posit a person or persons certain of something, yet not omniscient -- can we not? ___________________ * Here is a critique of Rand's Robot along similar lines... With respect to the proper contrivance of a hypothetical example, I think that the goal is to try to isolate important elements of some theory or proposal for the sake of testing it. Reality is so complex, however, and hypotheticals so unnaturally simplified of their nature (or even outlandish), that if one rejects the spirit of setting up such examples, there will always be sensible-sounding objections that can be raised. In this case, for me, it is enough if we have a medical expert tell our man that going on this mission will take five years off of his life; and yes, not going to space could have some psychological effect which would shorten his life as much, or more, but we could have a psychologist proclaim that he does not expect it to be so. Perhaps it is even enough if our space cadet believes (i.e. is "certain" that) that, all else being equal, going on this mission will mean that he will live five fewer years, give or take. It is within such a context that man must make a decision, after all, and it is for the sake of making such decisions (without omniscience) that we pursue ethics in the first place. I hold that a survivalist should say that our man should not go to deep space; that it would be immoral, given the context of his knowledge. (Though I will note that, looking over StrictlyLogical's subsequent replies, I don't think he's responded to my hypothetical as such.) In contrast, I say that it would be a moral decision. And if we can find a way to satisfy you as to the hypothetical's parameters, Invictus, I would be interested in your answer, because while it is important to try to present our visions of ethics in the abstract, it is meaningful to try to determine the ways in which this would result in different choices, in reality. That's where the rubber meets the road, after all, and if a person would advocate for a "survivalist ethics" in the abstract, but balks at some perceived consequence in reality (even a hypothetical one), then that might be a good reason to check his premises. Same here. I apologize for continuing to respond in dribs and drabs (is that an actual expression, or am I making it up...? what in the world is a "drib" and what is a "drab"?) -- but I've been rather busy. I will respond more when I am able.