Day 11: Philosophy with Takkan

The group of friends, as such they now considered themselves, had resolved to continue to meet every day for the foreseeable future. Mei had sought out Takkan after the last meeting and invited him to come the following day, an invitation that the fox had gladly accepted.

When Gabu and Mei arrived at the fourth meeting, Takkan wasn’t the only new face. There was also a vole, a chipmunk and a shrew, who introduced themselves as Lenny, Stephany and Jeremy respectively. It transpired that, since it was now official that the meetings would continue indefinitely, Greta had once again put the word out about them.

Lenny, Stephany and Jeremy, all small enough to be eaten by either Gabu or Takkan, were understandably nervous of the two carnivores. Those who had been here longer, and were now more comfortable around Gabu, were still somewhat wary of Takkan, even when he promised not to eat anyone as Greta had requested. It didn’t help that he was deliberately showing his teeth whenever he talked.

Gabu, too, acted somewhat mistrustfully towards the fox, whom he was meeting now for the first time. Mei wondered if the wolf was slightly jealous that he’d been spending time with another carnivore, a thought that made Mei chuckle.

Once the introductions were done, Mei said, “I’m glad you were able to join us, Takkan. The way you described Gabu’s situation the other day was really eye-opening for me. I’ve been using the problem you told me about to explain it to the others.” Mei said to the group, “Takkan’s the one who introduced me to the rolling boulder problem and how it relates to carnivores choosing whether or not to eating meat.”

Those who had been present the previous day now looked at Takkan with curiosity. “Makes sense that a carnivore would come up with a scenario so morbid as that,” Sagi said. Everyone else ignored him.

“I’m glad to have been of service, Mei, and thank all of you for inviting me. You really know how to make a fox feel welcome,” Takkan said with a toothy grin. Even Greta seemed slightly unsettled by this.

“I was wondering,” Mei said, “if you had any other insights that might help us understand Gabu’s situation better?”

“You want me to lead a discussion on philosophy as it relates to the issue of predation? I thought you’d never ask!” Takkan took a few steps away from the group and turned to face everyone. “There are a few things you need to know before we get started...”

Takkan’s Introduction to Moral Philosophy (optional reading)

Let’s start by talking about what we mean by “good”, since that will be the primary metric by which we decide what actions should or should not be taken. A useful definition of good is any action or outcome that, all other things being equal, is desirable and which one should therefore strive for.

I think everyone can agree that friendship, love, happiness, lack of suffering, lack of untimely death, and anything that improves one’s wellbeing are all consistent with this definition of good. That is not to say that striving for each of these things is always a good thing to do, especially if one form of good conflicts with another. We should not, for instance, try to eliminate all suffering by causing everyone to have an untimely death. However, if we can reduce suffering without compromising any other thing that we hold to be good, then it is unambiguously good to do so.

The things that are good for you might not be good for me, and some things might be good for everyone or, at the very least, bad for no one. To account for this, let’s introduce a distinction between absolute and individual good. An absolute good is something that is good for everyone, or that everyone can agree is good. For example, all other things being equal, the world would be a better place if there was more happiness, more love and friendship, less suffering, and less untimely death. All of these would be absolute goods.

An individual good is something that is good for one individual, but may be good, bad or neutral for others. For example, eating meat is essential to prevent the untimely death of a wolf, but necessitates the untimely death of the animal whose meat is eaten. Therefore, eating meat is individually good for the wolf but individually bad for those being eaten. It cannot be said to be absolutely good or bad.

One test for whether something is absolutely good is to consider whether it’s individually good for at least one person and individually bad for no one. Gabu and Mei being friends is individually good for them, and so long as their friendship does not harm anyone, their friendship can be said to be an absolute good. This is not lessened by Gabu needing to eat meat, since he would still need to eat meat regardless of his friendship with Mei.

By this definition of absolute good, no absolutely good action is detrimental to anyone, including the person taking the action. Therefore, if we have the opportunity to take an absolutely good action, it is always better for us to do so than not.

There’s also a practical case to be made in favour of everyone pursuing these absolute goods, even if not everyone agrees that their good is intrinsic. Pretend that we live in a hypothetical universe in which everyone has the power to make other people happy but cannot make themselves happy. Although a person choosing to make someone else happy is not individually good for that person, they might choose to do so regardless in the selfish hope that someone else will make them happy. If no one made anyone else happy, there would be no happiness and the world would be an objectively worse place, so it makes practical sense for everyone to treat others as we wish them to treat us.

This provides us with clear guidelines in the case of actions that are absolutely good, but we still need a framework to judge actions that are good for some people and bad for others. I’ll refer to these actions as “ambiguously good” from now on.

We might be tempted to view ambiguously good actions as contributing, either positively or negatively, to some metric of absolute good, thus expanding the definition of absolute good to include actions that have a positive impact overall, even if they are bad for some individuals. An action would, therefore, be morally justifiable if and only if it has no negative impact on the absolute good.

This theory would provide us with a clear answer to the rolling boulder problem, which Mei has already explained to you. Assuming that preventing one untimely death is just as good as preventing any other untimely death, we must conclude that preventing six untimely deaths is six times better than preventing one. Therefore, diverting the boulder to kill one person instead of six would contribute positively to this metric of absolute good and is a good action to take. Conversely, allowing the boulder to kill six people instead would contribute negatively to the absolute good, making it an objectively wrong decision.

For an example of where this theory breaks down, consider another hypothetical universe containing five hundred optimistic people, five hundred pessimistic people, and you. Your task is to distribute one thousand gifts to the other residents of this universe. Both optimistic people and pessimistic people become happier upon receiving a gift, but an optimistic person becomes ten times happier upon receiving a gift than a pessimistic person becomes upon receiving the same gift.

If our metric for what makes an outcome good is the aggregate sum of all happiness, then it would be an injustice to waste even a single gift on a pessimistic person when that gift could instead be going to an optimistic person, through whom it could do more good. (Note that “through”, not “for”, is the correct term here, since individual good does not matter under this theory.)

Similarly, it doesn’t matter if all gifts go to one optimistic person or each optimistic person gets exactly two gifts; fairness doesn’t matter so long as overall happiness is maximised.

Whether or not you agree that all actions contribute positively or negatively to some metric of absolute good is up to you. Personally, I think this is an oversimplification and leads to more injustices than it helps to prevent.

For now, let’s assume it’s impossible for a single metric or set of rules to adequately determine whether an action is absolutely good or bad in all cases. When deciding whether to take an ambiguously good action, we must therefore weigh up the individual good of that action to all persons who stand to be affected by it.

But, since it isn’t clear when it is or isn’t acceptable to put one individual good over another, how are we to decide what action to take in these situations? Should it matter if one of those individual goods belongs to ourselves or someone that we care about? Is it intrinsically wrong to be selfish, or to be biased in favour of our friends and loved ones?

If it is wrong for a carnivore to put their individual good ahead of that of all the animals they must kill to survive, then the very existence of a carnivore is therefore wrong. Likewise, one could argue that it would be wrong for a squirrel to eat the last acorn in the forest, since that squirrel would be putting their own wellbeing ahead of that of all the other squirrels who might have wanted to eat it. Never mind that if everyone thought like that, the acorn would go uneaten.

Some of these moral problems have no right or wrong answer, in which case we refer to them as dilemmas. When faced with a dilemma, it’s up to us as individuals to decide what to do. While moral theories can help us to decide or explain our reasoning, they usually won’t provide us with an unambiguous answer.

Takkan paused, perhaps waiting for questions, although no one asked any. Mei had just about managed to follow what Takkan was saying; a few people in the group, including Gabu, looked completely lost.

“Now that you know the basics,” Takkan said, “let’s take a look at some real-world dilemmas relating to predation. Like I said, there’s no objectively right or wrong answer to these questions. What I’m interested in is what each of you would do in these situations. Is everyone ready?” There were a few murmurs of assent. “First question. Assuming Gabu is capable of halving the number of animals he eats every week, which will cause him to suffer from hunger but won’t result in his untimely death, who thinks that Gabu has a moral obligation to do so?”

A few animals, Gabu included, nodded at this.

Takkan looked at Gabu. “Why is that, my dear wolf?”

“Because the deaths of innocent animals matter more than my suffering,” Gabu said.

“Do you mean that those deaths matter more in some absolute sense that everyone could agree with, or do you mean that they matter more to you?” Takkan asked.

“Both, I suppose,” Gabu said uncertainly.

“If I were to convince you, by way of some irrefutable argument, that your suffering mattered more, in the absolute sense, than the deaths of those animals, would that affect your decision?”

Gabu thought about that for a while. “No, because their deaths would still matter more to me.”

“Good,” Takkan said. “Now, does the extent of your suffering matter? Presumably, if the suffering you would endure by restricting your diet to a single animal per week was negligible, you would have no reason not to do so?”

“Of course,” Gabu said.

“But what if reducing your consumption by even one animal per week would cause you to be permanently hungry, to the same extent that you were at the top of that mountain? Is one life worth that amount of suffering?”

“No,” Gabu said ashamedly.

“Would anyone else make that trade?” Takkan asked the rest of the group. Everyone shook their heads. “Nor would I. We can conclude from this that there is an amount of suffering that is equivalent to the worth of one life, but that this amount is based on our own individual aversion to suffering and our own judgement, rather than some absolute rule.” Everyone seemed to broadly agree with this notion. “Shall we move on to talking about which animals Gabu is prepared to eat?”

“We already decided that I wouldn’t eat goat meat, even if there were any goats here other than Mei,” Gabu said.

“That may be true, but there are many animals in the forest besides your boyfriend and any hypothetical goats.”

Mei realised in that moment, far too late to do anything about it, that he hadn’t told Takkan that not everyone knew he and Gabu were lovers. He glanced around to see if anyone had reacted strongly to the news. Greta didn’t seem to care; Darrel, Leo, Janice and Frank all had self-satisfied but polite smiles on their faces; Tanya and the three newcomers, Lenny, Stephany and Jeremy, looked surprised but not put off by the news.

Sagi was the only one to speak. “Wait, boyfriend?” Gabu and Mei both blushed.

“Oh, not all of you knew? Hmm, curious,” Takkan said with his fox’s smile. Mei wished he’d get on with the discussion. Thankfully, he did. “Anyway, as I was saying, how do we determine whether it would be preferable for Gabu to take one life or another? We’ve been assuming that all lives are equal, but not all philosophers take this for granted. Even if all lives are equal, it may still be a greater injustice to kill an infant than an elderly animal, since we would be depriving the elderly animal of only a small proportion of their overall lifespan.”

“We could just as easily say that the elderly animal, as a valued member of her community, would be a greater loss than the infant, who may not survive to adulthood even in the absence of predation,” Greta said.

“Let’s assume that, as you say, the elderly animal is loved by more people than the infant is, and to a greater extent. Therefore, the death of the elderly animal would cause greater suffering amongst the living than the death of the infant would. If we, as moral beings, are concerned only with the effect of our actions on some metric of absolute good, then this fact is very relevant to the decision of which animal to kill. However, I maintain that this is a poor way of evaluating moral decisions, for reasons I have already discussed.”

“Can you think of a better way?” Greta asked.

“First, I want to establish whether Gabu killing the elderly animal would be an injustice against those who loved her, specifically on the grounds that her death causes them suffering, or if the only person who stands to be wronged is the animal herself.”

“If the first case is true,” Mei said, “then it would also be wrong for the elderly animal to give up her life voluntarily, since that would also cause the rest of her community to suffer. Surely everyone has a right to choose which causes they would sacrifice their lives for, without having to worry about wronging other people in the process?”

“Quite right,” Takkan said. “Yes, I believe that, in this case at least, the only people Gabu must worry about wronging are the animals he is contemplating killing. Being loved by other people doesn’t make your life more valuable than that of those who are unloved. In judging the extent to which an untimely death is wrong, however, we must surely consider the extent to which the death is untimely. Who here would rather eat an infant than an animal with only one day left of their natural lifespan?” No one said anything. “Who would rather eat the elderly animal, even if she was loved by more people?” Everyone, Gabu, Mei and Greta included, nodded. “Good choice,” Takkan said. “Here’s a slightly harder one. What if one of the animals was an infant, but the other was her middle-aged mother, without whom the infant could not survive? Who would you eat in that scenario?”

“Neither of them,” Gabu said. “I would let both of them live and find another animal to eat.”

“Okay, then,” Takkan said with an unpleasant smile. “What if this was happening at the top of the mountain, and your only alternatives to eating one of the animals were eating Mei or starving to death?”

This, Mei realised, was Takkan’s go-to punishment for thinking outside the box with a hypothetical question: make the scenario much more personal than it needed to be. Takkan had done much the same thing when he’d discussed the rolling boulder problem with Mei a few days ago.

Gabu folded his ears back. “In that case, I would eat the infant. It would be unkind to make the infant suffer and die without her mother, and it wouldn’t be right to eat both of them when I only needed to eat one.”

“Would the rest of you do the same?” Takkan asked. Everyone nodded solemnly.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Greta said. “Thank you, Takkan. This discussion has been very illuminating...if uncomfortable.”

“It’s been an absolute pleasure,” Takkan said. “I hope I haven’t forfeited my invitation to any future meetings?”

“No, you’re welcome to come whenever you wish, so long as you uphold your promise to not eat anyone as a result of their attending the meetings.”

“Of course,” Takkan said. “Fox’s honour.”

When everyone had dispersed after the meeting, Gabu and Mei were approached by Janice and Frank, the squirrel and mouse who’d been attending since the second meeting.

“Takkan is quite the character, isn’t he?” Frank said.

“I know he can be a lot to deal with sometimes, but he really helped me understand Gabu’s situation a lot better,” Mei said.

“Is it true that you two are partners?” Janice asked.

Mei noticed for the first time the way Janice and Frank were standing with each other. He thought back on how they always sat together at the meetings and came and left with each other, and he finally understood. “Yes, we are. And you two...?”

“We’ve been together for three months,” Frank said. That was a long time for mice, Mei knew. They didn’t live as long as goats or wolves. He wasn’t sure about squirrels.

Gabu was astonished. “Really? I thought Mei and I were the only ones. Two different kinds of animals who are in love with each other, I mean.”

“We thought the same until we heard about you two,” Frank said. “That’s why we had to come to the meetings and get to know you ourselves.”

“Do you two want to come back to our hill and talk some more?” Mei asked.

“We’d love to,” Frank said.

They ended up talking long into the evening. As it turned out, Janice hadn’t experienced the same lack of acceptance from the other squirrels that Gabu and Mei had from their families, but Frank had. The other mice, for whatever reason, didn’t like the idea of Frank spending time with a squirrel. Frank had been living with Janice and a few other squirrels ever since.

“But...why?” Gabu asked. “I can understand Mei’s herd being worried about a wolf, and as for my pack, they just think of goats as food. But why wouldn’t squirrels and mice get along?”

“Because squirrels are different to us,” Frank said. “People of all shapes and sizes are at least a little bit scared of people who are different shapes and sizes to them, even if there’s no reason why they should be. And if you start associating with people who are different, they’ll think of you as different too. That’s how they thought of me, at least.”

“That’s really sad,” Mei said.

“I don’t mind it anymore,” Frank said. “Just because they raised me doesn’t mean I need to care about what they think.”

They continued talking until long after nightfall. When Janice and Frank were ready to leave, Gabu and Mei escorted them back to the forest, just in case an owl spotted them while they were exposed in the meadow.

Once back at the hill, Gabu said, “Perhaps I should make a habit of escorting smaller animals around the forest? At least that would offset some of the harm I’m doing.”

“I’m not sure that would work. Any predators you’d scare away would just have to find someone else to eat instead, or else go hungry for the night.”

“Maybe more predators going hungry every so often isn’t a bad thing.”