Friday 27 November 2015

Bombs and morality

The universal notion of good and evil has been around a long time, yet it is easy to suggest that the concept is entirely subjective, depending greatly upon cultural and historical context.  ‘Evil’ is simply that which elicits feelings of revulsion, horror, and fear. ‘Good’, by contrast, inspires feelings of love, approval, and trust.  Thus, given the diversity of human experience and culture, what is perceived as good in one context, could quite conceivably be viewed as evil in a different setting.  The present conflict between ‘ISIS’ and the ‘West’ may be an example of this.

I don't believe in  the ‘good versus evil’ dichotomy, especially when used to justify political decisions. In the mouths of political leaders it becomes a rhetorical device that excuses knee-jerk reactions and lazy thinking. The ‘absolutist’ overtones associated with it are an obstacle to finding common ground across cultural divides - which is important in an increasingly connected world.  If one is to justify political decisions on moral grounds (which is what politicians are always trying to do), then it is worth thinking more carefully about what morality actually is, and where the boundaries between different types of morality lie.

To this end,  the work of social psychologist, Jonathan Haidt, is useful. In his book ‘The Righteous Mind: Why Good People are Divided by Politics and Religion’, he identifies  6  foundations of morality for which there is evidence in most cultures around the world. These include  

1. care/harm
2. fairness/ cheating
3. loyalty/betrayal
4. authority/subversion
5. sanctity/ degradation,
6. liberty/ oppression

The world was outraged by the atrocities carried out by ISIS in Paris recently. The harm (1) caused was unequivocal. Supporters of ISIS justify it on the basis of other moral criteria, such as (2), which can be also be interpreted in terms of reciprocity, including the reciprocation of harm  - an eye for and eye, and a tooth for a tooth. ISIS claims it is repaying the West for atrocities it has perpetrated against Muslims (in Afghanistan, Iraq etc) and as such it is also invoking (3) which is about showing group solidarity.  Items 4, 5, and 6 are also called upon - the West has subverted religious authority (4), degraded the sanctity associated with that authority (5), and supported the oppression (6) of 'Muslim brothers' (notably Palestinians at the hands of Israel).

What then of the West’s position? What is the moral justification for bombing ISIS? Applying the care/harm criteria in isolation suggests that such an action would be immoral. It’s short and medium term effect will be to cause horrific injuries and large numbers of deaths, just as was the case with the ISIS attacks in Paris. Advocates of bombing may claim that this harm is justified on the basis of future harm averted, although there is little evidence to support this. Indeed, the evidence of recent history all points in precisely the opposite direction – that western military intervention greatly increases the scale of death and human suffering on all sides.  No political leader could honestly justify bombing Syria on the basis of  (1). Instead they must appeal to other moral criteria.

Revenge (2) has an understandably strong appeal amongst those immediately affected by the ISIS attacks, namely, the French. Fairness and punishment are often intertwined in the moral codes that govern human affairs. The French President, Francoise Hollande seeks active British support for the retaliation already being undertaken by French bombers, and, in playing the loyalty card (3) he has found a receptive audience in British Prime minister, David Cameron. Cameron, wants to use British bombs to demonstrate solidarity with the French, a group with whom the British share many common values. He is also appealing to (2) in calling for Britain to contribute it’s ‘fair’ share in the fight against terrorism.

The attacks in Paris are clearly a subversion of authority (4), and whilst bombs on Syria are unlikely to deter future subversions of this sort, they do at least give the appearance of regaining some control, which is important for those who believe that there is something intrinsically moral about the existing social order.  Insofar as liberal values are viewed as sacrosanct by many in the west, and given the extremely oppressive nature of the ISIS regime in the territories that it controls, moral authority for a bombing campaign might also be sought in (5) and (6).

What strikes me in thinking about bombs in this way, is how similar the moral arguments for bombing ISIS are to those that one might expect to hear from people who defend  ISIS. However, both sides seriously contravene what is in my view the most important foundation of morality, which is to care for fellow human beings and avoid harming them.

It is worth noting that moralities based upon group loyalty and shared values are fickle and dynamic. British solidarity with the French may seem appropriate now, but could quickly evaporate in the face of different challenges. The morality of punishment and revenge which is built on the foundations of reciprocity is currently very powerful. Yet, bombing punishes the innocent as well as the guilty, and is arguably the very response that ISIS is trying to elicit. Punishment is a weak foundation upon which to build a moral case for violence.

Surely, then, in any honest and genuine appeal to moral authority, the care/harm criteria must trump all others, unless there is strong evidence to suggest that adherence to those other moralities benefits the care/harm criteria in the longer term. In many cases it clearly does. Much harm would be done if people had no sense of loyalty or fairness. But in this case the evidence is very weak, and so too, therefore, is the moral argument for dropping bombs on ISIS-held territory in Syria. From a moral standpoint, Jeremy Corbyn, leader of the opposition, is absolutely right to stand firm against pressure to endorse those bombs.

Tuesday 17 November 2015

Paris

Paris has been making the headlines over the last few days and it is hard not to reflect upon the awful events that took place there last Friday and their implications. Events such as this shift the boundaries that I was talking about yesterday, temporarily, in some cases, but often more permanently. For those left injured or bereaved by the killings, life will never be the same again - they will forever see the world through different eyes. For those of us more distant from the suffering, life will probably go on much as before, at least for the time-being. That said, the twists and turns of history are unpredictable and sometimes the road bends sharply without us noticing... until it is too late.

For politicians and senior policy makers this is clearly a critical moment, especially in France, but elsewhere too. How they respond will, in some way or other, change the course of history. Whether the resulting deflection is major or minor, for better or for worse, may depend upon what is truly motivating our leaders and those that influence them. Are their reactions governed by emotion or reason, altruism or self-interest? Is anger and outrage so great as to deny the possibility of a clear headed analysis of the costs and benefits of different policy responses? How many politicians really believe that an aggressive response to terrorism will make us safer? How does domestic politics affect the calculus? How big is the gap between 'being strong' and 'appearing strong'?  It seems to me that now is one of those times when political leaders (and journalists, too) need to think very consciously about what motivates their own personal and collective reactions to the terrible events in Paris. It might also be helpful if they focused  more clearly on what motivates ISIS and the people it recruits.

Despite what the headlines currently suggest, the boundary between good and evil has always been negotiable and porous. Good people do bad things, bad people do good things;  few people are truly evil and there are very few saints. However, times like these test the balance between good and evil. They risk pushing us into a world where good people are more likely to do bad things, and where genuinely bad people find increasing opportunities to prosper.






Monday 16 November 2015

Why am I doing this?

So here I am, at the start of the first entry in my first blog. Throughout most of my life I have been preoccupied with questions that begin with 'how' or 'why'? It is therefore apt that I should begin with this question - why am I writing this blog?

I have always been interested in what motivates people - people I know, people I don't know, people I love, and those I don't, people like me and the utterly alien. I am especially interested in my own motivations, and I often ponder the array of forces that drive me to feel, think, and behave the way I do. A religious childhood embedded within me the idea that there is a 'truth', something fixed and certain, solid and predictable, an anchor of security in a stormy sea. As a young and, in some sense, rebellious adult I took that idea and ran with it, hauling it out of Christian waters in search of a more rational and scientific home. Thirty years on the voyage continues, and this blog now joins the journey - as companion, guide, muse, and moderator.

Thus far I have learned that there are an infinite number of truths, each of them valid in their own, often rather limited, way. Most of them (I'm tempted to say, all of them) are subjective and deeply personal, but some have wider application and importance than others. It's fair to say that the truth behind my starting this blog is of little significance to anyone, other than me. The same cannot be said of the truths underlying the political and economic decisions of our leaders. Yet, as a fellow human being, I share the same motivations, emotions and instincts that drive these leaders - including a desire for status and respect, a concern for justice and fair play, and a search for meaning and purpose. My motivation for writing this blog is closely linked to each of these drivers.

Firstly there is the vain (in both senses of the word) hope that people might be interested in what I have to say, and that my words might be appreciated. Secondly, there is a need to vent frustration about social injustice and ecological destruction. Thirdly, I have a purpose, which is to raise the profile of two greatly undervalued  human virtues - a capacity to see things from other people's perspective, and an ability to recognise our own motives. How many problems might be solved if our potential in these areas were better harnessed?

Finally, I should perhaps justify the title of this blog. The word 'interface' suggests boundaries and meeting points, and speaks of connections and communication. The cliche that everything in life is connected is true, but, we can only perceive connections by first understanding boundaries - such as, the boundary between us and them, emotion and reason, individuals and society, truth and lies, right and wrong. Boundaries define the discrete, subjective, and dynamic 'truths' that help us make sense of the world and our place in it. At the broadest level, this blog will be about the boundaries that I perceive and the gaps I see within them. It will chart my own observations of the world and guide my endeavours to see what other people see.