Three arguments about paternalism
Hans
O. Melberg
(hmelberg@hotmail.com)
(National Institute for Alcohol and Drug Research)
University of Oslo
Oslo, 23. November 2000
Essay for the Ph.D course in Health Economics
(Paul Doland)
Introduction
A Norwegian newspaper
recently reported on a debate about whether it should be legal to parachute off
certain popular cliffs (base-jumping). One participant argued that it should be
legal because "the individual has the right to liberty as long as it does
not directly harm others" (my translation). Against this it was argued
that the risk of dying was "extreme" and that the death of an
individual in fact did represent "direct harm" to others (e.g.
relatives).[1] The debate illustrates some of the problems
involved when discussing paternalistic actions (What is harm? Does risk in
itself constitute good grounds for intervention?) and the first purpose of this
paper is to identify the key issues involved.[2]
I then go on to make three arguments. First, I will present an account of why I
disagree with those who want to avoid the debate about ethical issues like
paternalism since - they argue - it no more meaningful than debating whether
vanilla or chocolate ice cream is best; It is simply a question of taste and
"de Gustibus non est disputandum." Second, I want to argue against
those who write that all talk about a true self is wrong. Third - and related
to the second - I will argue that there is a tendency to confuse philosophical
and pragmatic arguments in the debate. For instance, the so-called slippery
slope argument can be used to argue against paternalism on a pragmatic level,
but the dangers of a slippery slope has no relevance to the question of whether
it is possible to talk about a "true self" on the conceptual level.
The issues
John S. Mill's argued
that "the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over
any member of a civilised community, against his will, is to prevent harm to
others" (Mill 1859/1993, p. 78). We may call this the harm principle and it
implies that paternalism is prohibited - you are never allowed exercise power
in order to benefit a person against his own will.[3]
At first sight the harm principle seems to severely limit the amount of
intervention that is morally acceptable. A closer look, however, reveals that the
terms are so ambiguous that it opens up the door for much more intervention
than one might believe at first sight.
For instance,
campaigns against smoking are usually considered paternalistic, but if power is
defined narrowly as coercion, then an advertising campaign is not coercive (at
least not on directly) and hence not forbidden on Mill's account. Moreover, if
liberty is defined as "doing what one desires" (real will theory,
positive liberty), then more interventions are acceptable than if one defines
liberty as "freedom from interference" (negative liberty). Third, if
you accept a theory that distinguish between the "true will" of a
person and his "false self" then Mill's principle does not rule out
interventions which we commonly label paternalistic (Arguable laws against
drugs could fit here). Fourth, most people do not label intervention paternalistic
if the person himself consents, but this raises the question of what type of
consent that is valid. If we count subsequent and prior consent, we allow many
more interventions than if we only accept current consent.[4]
And, finally, as illustrated by the debate in the Norwegian newspaper: If
"harm to others" is defined widely, then Mill's principle can be used
to intervene against base-jumping. In short, the principle comes build in with
so many ambiguities that its value as a guide to real policy-making is weak.
The real force comes from the definition of the terms in the principle, not the
principle itself. Of course, one might object to the principle itself also, but
that is not the issue in this paper.[5]
I have so far argued
that Mill's principle requires us to define a number of very controversial
terms in order to give us an answer on real issues (see Table 1). The question then
becomes whether it is at all possible to have a meaningful discussion about
paternalism. If the definition of paternalism is so dependent on terms that
have no value-neutral or uncontroversial meaning, is it not a waste of time to
debate the issue? Isn't all you can really say just "I say yes/no because
I feel that is the right answer" and that is the end of discussion?
Table 1: Some key questions and
terms in the debate about paternalism
Rights |
Power |
Liberty |
Self |
Consent |
Harm |
- one or many? - positive or negative? - justification of (utilitiarian,
contractual, natural) |
- only coercive or also non-coercive? - diminish choice set or just change choice
set |
- positive or negative |
- empirical self (revealed preferences) or
also accept "true will" theories? (Not mutually exclusive) |
- time aspect: accept only current or also
prior and subsequent? - accept hypothetical consent? - accept only rational and informed consent? |
- direct vs. indirect - physical vs. non-physical - Is all harm morally significant? (eg.
envy?) |
Reasons why meaningful
debate is possible
In an article about
justice in the legal system I once came across the following argument: "to
use justice as an argument amounts to knocking on the table: it is an emotional
expression … it is impossible to have a rational discussion with a person who
mobilises 'justice' because he does not say anything about which we can argue
for or against" (Alf Ross quoted from Melberg 1996, p. 475). I want to
argue against this position.[6]
First of all it is
possible that there are gaps in the information on which we base some of our
values. My belief that human nature is good (or bad) may affect the value I
attach to individual freedom and if you can give me new information about human
nature that I previously had not considered, then I will revise my weighting.
There is nothing irrational about this and it illustrates that a debate about
values need not always descend into emotional expressions of "yes"
and "no." Gaps in the information base creates some scope for
meaningful discussion.
Second - and slightly
more controversially - we may demand that a person's value system should have a
certain logical structure. At the very least the person should not have values
that are logically inconsistent. If I accept "right wing"
intervention like compulsory military service, then the very same arguments
used to justify that policy might also force me to accept a
"left-wing" intervention like compulsory union membership in a
factory. Since there may be logical inconsistencies in a person's value system,
there is also scope for rational discussion. We may point out the inconsistencies
(or implied inconsistencies) and the other person is then forced to revise his
values. More controversially one may require that the values should not be
logically self-justifying. This is discussed by Archard (1993, p. 342). In his
words: "The main worry that some
have had about allowing that paternalism might be justified by subsequent
consent is that the paternalism could create that very consent." For
instance, compulsory treatment of drug users can be questionable even if all of
them subsequently say they are now happy that they were forced to quit drugs
(Why should the subsequent self be more important than the previous self?).
Archard himself concludes that not all self-justifying paternalism is morally
unacceptable, but that is not the point here. The key is that whether something
is self-justifying is not a question of taste and for that reason it is
possible to have a meaningful discussion.
A third reason why
there is scope for meaningful discussion is the distinction between deep and
shallow values. Imagine two people who disagree about whether some action is
paternalistic or not - for instance about making the use of some drugs illegal.
They both express an opinion based on certain values. The question is then
whether there is scope for further argument and the answer may be yes if the
values are "shallow." That is; when asked why they think the values
are valuable they are able to give you a reason and this reason then constitutes
the "deeper" value. If they agree on the basic value, one may then
work logically to see whether the shallow values really follow from the deep
values. For instance, when asked why they support or are against paternalism,
they might argue that it is important to respect the autonomy of persons. You
may then argue that if autonomy is the real value underlying the argument
against paternalism, then this has implications of what we should label
paternalism or not (i.e. only those acts which violate your autonomous preferences; see Scoccia
(1990) for more on how the "autonomy justification" affects paternalism).
This moves the debate to a deeper level and opens up scope for rational
discussion. We may, for instance, agree that paternalism is acceptable to the
extent it would be chosen by a rational person behind a veil of ignorance about
his own position in society (rich/poor, male/female, high/low ability;
good/poor judgement), but we may disagree on the implications that follow from
this. Agreement on the underlying value opens up the possibility for meaningful
discussion since it is not just emotions that are involved when we debate which
shallow values that can be derived from a deeper value. And, even if we do not
agree on the deeper values, out understanding has improved if we are able to
uncover the deeper reasons for our disagreement beyond statements like "I
like it" and "I do not like it."
Finally there is the
fourth reason why I believe it is possible to have a meaningful debate about
ethical issues. This is, in short, that a value that is meant to guide
behaviour must be such that it does not demand the impossible. As an example,
consider Nozick's argument that past infringements of rights should be
compensated so the individuals are as well off as they would have been without
the intervention. Sometimes this principle may work, but at other times we
simply do not have the information necessary to use the principle; For
instance, what is the correct compensation for being lobotomised in the 1950s
when this was considered the best (paternalistic) course of treatment for
certain people in Norway. We do not know what would have happened without the
lobotomy and to try to estimate this requires precise knowledge of detailed
causal mechanism - information which we do not have. Now, to point out that a
value is not operative because it requires information which we do not have is
not an irrational exercise like "knocking on the table." On the
contrary, to work out the implications and information requirement is a
deductive process and it can be criticised based on faulty logical connections.
In sum, I do not
agree that there is no scope for meaningful debate about the definition of
controversial terms like rights, power, liberty, the self and harm. This does
not, of course, imply that it is always possible reach neutral and valid
definitions of the terms. People may reach different (consistent) value-systems
even if they have the same information and knowledge about the implications.
Hence, at some point two people who disagree may reach the point where no
meaningful discussion is possible. Before that, however, there is scope for
meaningful exchange and it would be wrong to strangle the debate at the
beginning with the argument that "this is all a question of taste."
To do so would be to ignore the scope for discussion opened up by the four
arguments above.
How important are the
four reasons above; Do they carve out enough room for significant discussion,
or will we quickly reach the point where no more discussion is possible? I have
no good answer to this question. It depends on the extent to which our
information base is filled with gaps, the extent to which our value-systems are
logically inconsistent and the extent to which there is a common
"deep-value" behind our surface values. And even if there is
significant space created by my four arguments, there is still the problem of
human weakness (such as pride) which may hinder the discussion. That is, even
if I point out an informational gap or a logical inconsistency in your
argument, you are reluctant to change your opinions because you dislike
admitting mistakes. In sum, although I have argued that there is some room for
valuable exchange, I do not want to appear too optimistic about the
possibilities created by this space.
The reasons given
above have some implications as to how the debate should be conducted in order
to be useful. If we look upon the process as one of exchanging information in
order to reach a "reflective equilibrium", then one valuable tool is
to present as many examples as possible. We then examine whether there is a gap
between our intuitive understanding of the "correct" answer to the
example and the answer presented by our explicit principles. If there is a gap something
has to give in - either the principle has to be revised or we have to accept
that our intuition is wrong. Mill's example of whether it is morally acceptable
to stop a man who is running towards an unsafe bridge is a classic illustration
of this process. We may start from the position that intervention is never
acceptable, but it is very hard to accept that conclusion in Mill's example and
hence people either have to revise the principle or reject the intuition that
we should stop the running man.[7]
I have so far argued
against the view that all debate on paternalism always amounts to emotional
expressions of likes and dislikes. I now want to turn attack a second argument:
the view that all talk about a "real self" is nonsense.
False and real selves?
In an article about
paternalism and drugs, Douglas N. Husak (1989, p. 365) makes the following
argument:
"… it may be contended that consumers do
not want, enjoy, or derive satisfaction from recreational drug use. This
strategy will be dismissed by economists who take wants as given and make
policy recommendations designed to maximize the satisfaction of existing
consumer preferences. And it is almost certain to be rejected by philosophers
familiar with the sleight-of-hand that results from positing an alleged
'rational will' and then supposing that a person's 'true wants' can be
identified apart from his expressed desires."
I think Husak is
wrong both in his interpretation of the literature and the more substantial
points. Substantially I think it is wrong to equate choice and preferences in
the way Husak does (Note: the term 'expressed preference' is used by Husak to
mean choice, not verbal expression). Less important, I believe there are plenty
of economist and philosophers who disagree that talk about true selves is just
a sleight of hand. Here is an obvious counter-example: A person is offered the
choice between an apple and an orange. He selects the apple because he believes
that the orange is poisoned. If this is a true description, then the inference
from "he selected the apple" to "he prefers apples to
oranges" is simply wrong. Thus, there is not necessarily always a
"sleight of hand" involved when we talk about true selves.
The problem can be,
and has been, analysed more systematically. For instance, in 1973 Amartya Sen
published a paper which attacked how the concept of "revealed
preferences" had been used in the literature. One of the main arguments
was that the inference from choice to preferences is invalid when the choice
was not made using rationality. To simplify slightly we may use the following
illustration: If I hit a person out of anger, then it is wrong to treat that
action as if it were selected to express my preferences using the process of
rational and cold weighting of costs and benefits. And Sen is not the only
economist to be interested in the issue. For instance, Hausman (2000, p. 99)
has recently written a paper in which he argues that the "notion of 'revealed
preferences' is unclear and should be abandoned." Hence, it is wrong to
say that economists simply equate expressed choice and true preferences and
work from there.
The debate is, of
course, slightly more complicated. One objection could be that Sen, Hausman
(and I!) misinterpret the meaning of preference that the adherents of revealed
preference theory use. They would argue that they are simply saying that when
the person selected the apple, he really preferred the apple to the alternative
- the poisoned orange. To me this is to mix up beliefs and preferences in a way
that makes the theory impotent in welfare economics. To evaluate the welfare
effects of a policy change (should we provide more apples or oranges?), we need
to know what people prefer. And "prefer" is here used in the in the
sense of pure preference - not what he would choose if he believed X or Y.
Another objection to my argument, could be that there is no alternative to use
choices as equal to preferences. There is, it is argued, no alternative wisdom
except your actions that allows me to infer what you really want. This, in
turn, leads to the argument that if we allow a 'mystical' source to contaminate
the inference to preferences, we are led to a paternalistic and totalitarian
dictatorship in which some claim to know the true self of all the others. This
leads me to my third argument: Why it is wrong to argue that talk about true
selves should be abandoned since it leads to totalitarianism.
Paternalism and the threat of totalitarianism
In his well know
essay "Two concepts of liberty", Isaiah Berlin (1958/1969) argued
that:
"Once
I take this view [that there is a 'real self' as opposed to an empirical self],
I am in a position to ignore the actual wishes of men or societies, to bully,
oppress, torture then in the name, and on behalf, of their 'real' selves
…" (my summary in [])
Similar arguments are
easy to find in writings about paternalism i.e. the worry that accepting a
theory of a "true" self leads to 'too much' intervention or - plainly
speaking - totalitarianism. I shall argue that the spectre of totalitarianism
is irrelevant to the validity of the theory of true selves.
The argument is
simple: Even if I accept a theory of "true" selves on a conceptual
level, it does not follow that I accept paternalistic intervention in the real
world. It is perfectly consistent to argue both that you sometimes know better
than the other person what is good for him (here: his 'real' desires) and at
the same time that you should not interfere. This may be so for many reasons.
First of all, it is very likely that the interference in itself is
counterproductive since people are easily offended if others try to interfere.
Moving from the personal level to the state level, you may also believe that it
is dangerous to give the government too much power to interfere. Hence, you may
argue in favour of a corner solution of no-interference even if you believe
that sometimes interference would be good (based on a theory of a true self). As
a matter of practical politics you believe intervention will lead to a slippery
slope in which the government starts to intervene in areas you do not think is
right. The key point here is that the practical corner solution need not imply
that you adopt a conceptual corner solution in the debate about true and false
selves. In short, Amartya Sen should not stop criticising reveal preference
theory simply because some future dictator (maybe a slave of a then defunct (!)
economist) may misinterpret and abuse his ideas to create a dictatorship. An
idea cannot be wrong because it can be abused and the argument that it can be
abused is not relevant to the discussion of whether the idea itself is correct.
Finally, it is not
true that there is no source of information about the self than expressed
choice. As Sen (1999) has recently emphasised, we should to broaden the
informational base in welfare economics. For instance, we could simply ask
people about their preferences (as is now done in health and environmental
economics). Moreover, we should accept the possibility that out actions are not
fully consistent. This implies that the action of taking drugs alone is not
enough to say that the person really prefers drugs. There may be other actions
- for instance seeking treatment - that express contradictory preferences and
this makes it necessary to look at more than one area of expression on order to
reach a conclusion about what the person really wants. This is, or course, not
to argue that current actions say nothing about preferences, only that words
and actions at other times and places also matter.
Conclusion
Instead of trying to
survey the area of paternalism, I have focused on three arguments relevant to
the debate. Whether it was possible to have a meaningful discussion about
paternalism; Whether the phrase "true self" as opposed to "the
self expressed in choice" can be defended conceptually; And, finally,
whether the "true-self leads to totalitarianism" argument is relevant
to whether we should accept a theory of true selves. Since these were just
three fragments relevant to the debate, there is no large conclusion that
unifies them.
References
Archard, David (1990) Paternalism defined. Analysis, pp. 36-42.
Archard, David (1993) Self-justifying paternalism. The Journal of Value Inquiry 27, pp. 341-352.
Arneson, Richard J. (1989) Paternalism, Utility, and Fairness. Revue Internationale de
Philosophie 43(170), pp. 409-437.
Berlin, Isaiah (1958/1969) Two concepts of liberty. In Isaiha Berlin
(1969) Four Essays on liberty.
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Hausmann, Daniel (2000) Revealed Preference, Belief, and Game Theory. Economics and Philosophy 16, pp. 99-115.
Husak, Douglas N. (1989) Recreational Drugs and Paternalism. Law and Philosophy 8, pp. 353-381.
Kultgen, John (1992) Consent and the justification of paternalism. The Southern Journal of Philosophy
30(3), pp. 89-113.
Laselva, Samuel V. (1988) 'A Single Truth': Mill on Harm, Paternalism
and Good Samaritanism. Political Studies
36, pp. 486-496.
Melberg, Hans O. (1996) Tre
årsaker til urettferdigheter ("Three causes of injustice"). Lov og Rett 8 (1996), pp. 471-499.
Mill, John S. (1859/1993) On Liberty. In Geraint Williams (ed.) (1993) Utilitarianism, On Liberty, Considerations
on Representative Government. London: Orient Press.
Scoccia, Danny (1990) Paternalism and Respect for Autonomy. Ethics 100, pp. 318-334.
Sen, Amartya (1973/1986)Behaviour and the concept of preferences. In Jon
Elster (ed.) (1986) Rational Choice.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Sen, Amartya (1999) The Possibility of Social Choice. American Economic Review 89, pp.
349-378.
[1] They both agreed that the risk of a
fatal accident was 10% if you make 100
jumps, i.e. that 1 in 1000 jumps is fatal. Source: Vårt Land, 30. october, 2000, p. 16.
[2] The paper is part of a larger
project on the costs and benefits of treating drug addiction. When I researched
the literature on the costs of drug use, some authors argued that we should not
count the utility gained from using the drug as a benefit since it was no real
benefit because the true person did not want to use the drug. It was against
this background I entered the philosophical literature on paternalism. This
link between paternalism and what to count as a cost/benefit may also serve as
an excuse for writing an essay on paternalism in a course on health economics.
[3] The core-meaning of paternalism may
be intuitively easy to understand: Intervention based on the belief that it is
good for the other person, as opposed to intervention simply because you think
it is good for yourself to coerce the
other person into something. There is, however, a debate on many of the issues
around the edge of this core meaning. In an article devoted to the definition
of paternalism Archard (1990, p. 36) tries to end the debate with the
following:
"P behaves paternalistically towards Q
iff:
(1) P aims to bring it about that with respect
to some state(s) of affairs which concerns Q's good Q's choice or opportunity
to choose is diminished;
(2) P's belief that this behaviour promotes Q's
good is the main reason for Q's behaviour;
(3) P discounts Q's belief that P's behaviour
does not promote Q's good."
Although
I have not made definitional issues a main point, I find that this definition
is wrong not only on minor issues but more fundamentally. The key problem in my
opinion is that it includes only interventions that decrease the choice set. Hence, using his own example; secretly
subsidising an offer to go to a health club does not count as paternalism on Archard's account. I believe such a
secret subsidy shows little respect for me as a person and my own ability to
make choices and as such it is paternalism.
[4] See Kultgen (1992) for more on the different types of consent
and implications for paternalism.
[5] We may, for instance,
question the implicit assumption that the only or most important right is the
right to self-ownership. We may also believe that other values - like justice -
is good enough as reasons to intervene. For an argument to this effect, see
Arneson (1989).
[6] Some of the arguments are based on
an article I wrote in Norwegian in 1996; See Melberg 1996.
[7] See Laselva (1988) for a convincing
argument to the effect that Mill's bridge example has often been
misinterpreted. According to Laselva the key point is that Mill did not
consider stopping a man running towards an unsafe bridge as paternalism at all
- because Mill defined liberty as doing what one wants (positive liberty) and
he assumed that the man did not really want to fall down from the bridge.