I have a question and I am sure it has a simple answer. So far I have not come across the answer in reading about Objectivism.
If I am walking past a lake and a small child has fallen into the water and is screaming to me for help. If it poses a great risk to my own person to attempt to save him. Is this altruism? And is it wrong to to risk my own safety to help the child?
What if the risk is 10% that I might die saving him?
What if its 1%? When is it a sacrifice and self immolation?
Keith
If you haven’t already, you should start by reading Ayn Rand’s essay “The Ethics of Emergencies” in The Virtue of Selfishness.
If you haven’t already, you should start by reading Ayn Rand’s essay “The Ethics of Emergencies” in The Virtue of Selfishness.
Just did. Answered my question specifically. Thanks! I sometimes wonder why there is no room for the golden rule in Objectivism. But, in the final analysis I know she is right.
Keith
If I am walking past a lake and a small child has fallen into the water and is screaming to me for help. If it poses a great risk to my own person to attempt to save him. Is this altruism? And is it wrong to to risk my own safety to help the child?
Yes, given the conditions that you’ve set. By “a child” I assume you mean an anonymous child. And by “lake” I assume you mean something else, since I’ve never seen a lake which was that dangerous. Although, I suppose if you can’t swim and the child is in the middle of the lake, it could be dangerous. The point is, to the extent that you have reason to believe that you will die trying to save the child, it is immoral.
For one, it is pointless because you won’t save the child and at the same time die: more likely, you both live, or you both die. So obviously knowingly killing yourself with no hope of saving the child is immoral. I would never sacrifice myself for the sake of a stranger, but I might go out on a limb somewhat to save a stranger – I would certainly never plan to die from it. Of course, it is possible that I might die but it’s also possible that I might die crossing the road to get a dozen eggs.
I seriously question anyone’s ability to distinguish “90% certainty of success” from “99% certainty of success” – only Leonard Nimoy qua Spock could compute probabilities of success that finely. I guess I can say that my life has never been at risk, though I’ve been at risk of seriously falling on my butt a number of times. So I have no idea how to decide is there is a 1% chance of dying, vs. a 10% chance. Maybe in combat situations experienced soldiers can make such a computation – in the case you propose, that isn’t a meaningful distinction. What matters is whether you know that you will die for the sake of a stranger (irrespective of whether you are wrong about the outcome).
I seriously question anyone’s ability to distinguish “90% certainty of success” from “99% certainty of success” – only Leonard Nimoy qua Spock could compute probabilities of success that finely. I guess I can say that my life has never been at risk, though I’ve been at risk of seriously falling on my butt a number of times. So I have no idea how to decide is there is a 1% chance of dying, vs. a 10% chance. Maybe in combat situations experienced soldiers can make such a computation – in the case you propose, that isn’t a meaningful distinction. What matters is whether you know that you will die for the sake of a stranger (irrespective of whether you are wrong about the outcome).
This idea, of being able to determine the probability of dying (or risk), is interesting and important and now it has me thinking so I will relate a story and then some ideas for further discussion.
When I was 14 I was riding horses daily and had just been offered an opportunity to exercise a new arrival to our stables a couple of days a week. I arranged to take a “test drive” as soon as possible. Looking back, I know that at this point I had already made a few mistakes that I would pay for later 1) I did not ask my trainer if she thought the horse would be a suitable match for my skills 2) I didn’t get much information from the owner about the horse’s mannerisms, difficulty, style etc.
After riding at a grueling pace in the arena for about 30 minutes I was elated at my ability to manage this animal, pushing the limits of my skills and strength. We had been working on the flat (not doing any jumps yet) and so the owner set up a small, low course of fences for me to take him over. However, as I approached the set of jumps I noticed a change in the attitude of my steed. No longer were the movements elongated and calm - his head was up, his ears were laid back flat and I could see, based on familiar body languge of the animal, that it was not happy with what I wanted it to do. I disregarded the signs are indications that I was making mistakes that were irritating an animal accustomed to more talented riders and adjusted my position and aggressiveness in a manner that I believed would help. I took approached the line of fences a second time but the horse’s response was the same. I was irritated, and began to consider the idea that the horse might have been quite spoiled and unaccustomed to working this hard. If I was going to ride this animal on a regular basis it would have to get used to taking the jumps, and so I pushed onward and over the jumps.
By the last of the three fences I was struggling to stay on the horse as it bucked and cavorted wildly around wildly; hell-bent on getting me off it’s back. I had been in all sorts of emergency situations like this in my 10 years of riding so I remained calm and evaluated a number of factors including 1) whether or not I could make a safe (not fatal) landing if I choose to let myself fall off 2) If it was worth it to stay on (long term - if I would get to ride this horse again) 3) if I knew how to calm the horse down and fix the problem. As the situation escalated I decided getting over the horses back was a must (if I horse rears too high it can willingly fall over backwards in an attempt to crush the rider on its back) so I began scouting the options and decided the soft sand of the open arena - away from any fences or jumps or other impediments - was a good target. I was slammed into the ground and I was very upset with myself because, despite my careful planning, I ended up breaking my collarbone and wearing a back brace the first 6 weeks of high school. However the conclusions I came to were that 1) I wasn’t dead and that was most important 2) the horse wasn’t worth riding and 3) I had mis-evaluated my skills.
That was a longer story than I set out to write but I added all the detail to show the reader that there was a great deal of evidence in reality that I disregarded even thought there was a great deal of thinking going on. It’s the same when evaluating anything for risk; if you don’t take a long hard look at reality you get into trouble – but what about in the cases of emergencies, where there simply is not time for deliberation? If you saw a child screaming for help and drowning would you simply run and jump into the lake after it, within seconds of encountering the situation? How does one go about deciding that quickly?
I’m going to use my own story of the horse emergency as an allegory for some questions about emergencies, which might illuminate some things about the ethics of emergency situations. I’m not familiar with much on emergency ethics so this formulation is mine and I am happy to accept criticisms based in facts and validated by logic - which is what I have attempted to do.
These are my questions:
For example: In the case of an emergency, is it true that one must consider basic needs for man’s life before one can consider higher needs (such as spiritual needs)?
In an emergency time is generally limited when it comes to decision making, so how is range-of-the-moment thinking to be avoid (especially in situations such as mine where there were only a few seconds of consideration about whether or not to fall off the horse)?
In response to the previous question, doesn’t long-range planning and thinking greatly reduce the impact of emergency situations?
For example: If I had thought long-term and collected more information about that horse I would have had the proper expectations and been prepared to deal with the situation (maybe I would have worn a protective vest or something).
All the arguments that have been made to me, in the case of emergency ethics, focus on pragamatism. That is, they throw long-term thinking and values out the window and instead attempt to argue that either one should - in the case of the drowning child example - either hold the child as an instrinsic value and risk life and limb to save it or disregard the child out of hand because even a 1% chance of injury and/or death is too high to warrant saving another human being struggling to conquer nature.
I am not sure that either of these options can be right. I would enjoy your thoughts on this.
Best,
-Elle
Elle, have you read the above recommended essay?
One of the central points Ayn Rand makes is that emergencies, being rare exceptional situations (and they ARE) do not the stuff of ethics make. However, should you encounter an emergency you should act according to your values, just as in every other situation.
However, she also discusses one particular category of emergency, one where you don’t have enough information to evaluate the person in danger (i.e. they are a complete stranger). My understanding is that you should assume a kind of medium case and provide assistance based on that; i.e. you shouldn’t assume that their life is more valuable than yours, but neither should you assume that they are a blackguard unworthy of any aid.
She also makes a point that, if you are drowning, you shouldn’t expect complete strangers to risk their lives to save yours.
The thing I enjoyed most, though, was her condemnation of silly “philosophers” that like to propose bizarre fictional “ethics” questions such as this one:
An evil genius has locked you in a room that is empty except for a button on the wall. He tells you that a close relative of yours is in another room just like this one. If you push the button and he does not, you go free and he dies. If he pushes his button and you do not, you die and he goes free. If you both push the button, you both die, if neither of you push the button, you both go free. Do you push the button or not?
and then pretend they can “judge” something about your “moral character” from it.
The ethics of emergencies are a narrow application of Objectivism, and, in fact of ethics in general. Ethics give you a guide to action, in an emergency or not.
KeithP: Do you really need a numerical definitive to assign value to another human being? I’ll tell you right now, there is no way for anyone to give you that number. It depends on too many factors. No one can guarantee you safety, anyway, so the number is meaningless.
Rather, what Objectivism tells you is that, if it turns out that you don’t see any reason to sacrifice your life for an unknown child, you should not be condemned for it. Assuming, of course, that you had a reason.
These are my questions:
1. When the option is either life or death what are the essential considerations one must have before they can decisively act? How does an emergency alter a person’s hierarchy of values? Should it alter that hierarchy?
First off, good story. In response to your question, I suppose this depends on your definition of emergency. I would define an emergency as a life or limb threatening situation. In your particular example, the only essential consideration would be whether your life or limb was truly in danger. This being said, it wouldn’t alter your value hierarchy because your life (your highest value) is what is being threatened, none of your other values would come into play.
2. In an emergency time is generally limited when it comes to decision making, so how is range-of-the-moment thinking to be avoid (especially in situations such as mine where there were only a few seconds of consideration about whether or not to fall off the horse)?
In the case of an emergency you really can’t think too far outside of the range of the moment because if you don’t act correctly, it is possible that it will be your last moment. I suppose if you had a chance to minimize future consequences that you could take action to do so (for example, your brakes are out and to stop you can hit a fence or a parked car, you’d pick the fence because it will damage your car less and there will be less property damage to pay for).
3. In response to the previous question, doesn’t long-range planning and thinking greatly reduce the impact of emergency situations?
Absolutely 
Edit: I misread your question. I would say long-range planning and thinking greatly reduces the possibilty of emergency situations.
An evil genius has locked you in a room that is empty except for a button on the wall. He tells you that a close relative of yours is in another room just like this one. If you push the button and he does not, you go free and he dies. If he pushes his button and you do not, you die and he goes free. If you both push the button, you both die, if neither of you push the button, you both go free. Do you push the button or not?
I’m just being nitpicky because I’m guessing you just phrased the above example wrong, but I can only think of two reasons to push “the button”:
a) you have a desire to kill your relative
or
b.) you have reason to believe that your relative wants to kill you and you don’t want them to get away with it.