KCL Philosophy Review- Issue 1 [Summer 2023]

AI and Consciousness: Navigating the Interplay of Mind and Machine

Do We Have An Obligation to Protect Cultural Heritage?

Can War Ever Be Truly Just?

Contents Letter from the Editor

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Acknowledgments

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Economic Philosophy

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Tony Lawson: Diagnoses in Modern Economics

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Metaphysics

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Unravelling Mimetic Theory: Are Our Desires Truly Ours?

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Is Destiny Merely a Way of Romanticising Our Lack of Free Will?

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Moral philosophy

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Nietzsche’s Concept of ‘Amor fati’ and How it Can Transform our Perception of Life

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Can War Ever Be Truly Just?

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A Critique of Locke: On the Basis of Species

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The Consequences of Logical Consistency in Moral Philosophy

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Philosophy of Art

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Do We Have An Obligation to Protect Cultural Heritage?

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Philosophy of Mind

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AI and Consciousness: Navigating the Interplay of Mind and Machine

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Political Philosophy

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Is It Ever Moral to Lie in Political Life?

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The Impact of Social Media

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When Prisons Don’t Work

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Letter from the Editor Dear Readers, It is with great pleasure that I welcome you to the inaugural edition of King’s Philosophy Review.

Philosophy has long been considered an elitist discipline, accessible only to students from particular educational backgrounds. This calls for new approaches to philosophical engagement that aim to reach new audiences. King’s Philosophy Review seeks to answer this call, introducing an open-access termly magazine, led by students from King’s College London.

At King’s Philosophy Review, our guiding principle is to make philosophical thought accessible, engaging, and relatable for young people of all backgrounds and disciplines.

We believe that philosophy holds profound lessons for us all; empowering us to question the world around us, rethink our assumptions, and reach reasoned conclusions.

It is no simple task to translate complex philosophical ideas into digestible and thoughtprovoking articles that resonate with young readers. Yet, this challenge has been embraced by our writers, who have worked diligently to produce thoughtful pieces. I would like to especially thank our editors and artists, who have worked closely with them to produce this edition. This project has been a collaborative effort, and the commitment of our writers and senior team to it has been truly commendable. This inaugural edition stands as a testament to their dedication.

In this edition, we hope to demonstrate how the corpus of philosophical thought continues to hold relevance in a rapidly evolving world; from the intelligence of AI, the moral duty to protect cultural heritage, the impacts of social media, to the moral justifications for war.

I hope you enjoy this edition, and that these pages inspire your own personal reflections and conversations.

Sincerely, Harminder Kaur Srai Founder and Editor-In-Chief, King's Philosophy Review

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Acknowledgements Magazine Artist

ASHLEEN KAUR MADON

MATHILDA MULERT

Editor

NANDINI YAGNIK

Editor

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Economic Philosophy

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Tony Lawson: Diagnoses in Modern Economics

BY ERIK VAN KESTEREN intimately familiar with. In fact, it is something we cannot avoid doing as we go about our lives.

The discipline of modern economics is, according to many commentators, in an unhealthy state. Nobel Prize winner Milton Friedman remarked “economics has increasingly become an arcane branch of mathematics rather than dealing with real world economic problems”. His peer, Ronald Coase, adds: “Existing economics is a theoretical system which floats in the air and which bears little relation to what happens in the real world”. Finally, in the succinct words of economic methodologist Mark Blaug: “Modern economics is sick”.

What can account for this ‘illness’?

Contemporary British economist and philosopher Tony Lawson has dedicated his career to diagnosing the state of the discipline (Economics and Reality, 1997; Reorienting Economics, 2003; The Nature and State of Modern Economics, 2015).

Lawson contends that the fundamental problem of modern economics stems from its neglect of ontology. Now, what is ontology, and why is it relevant to economics?

Ontology derives from the Greek to on, meaning ‘being’, and logos, which in this context expresses something like ‘the study of’ or ‘an account of’. So, ontology is the study of ‘being’. Put simply, ontology concerns the nature of things. While this may seem obscure, for Lawson, ontology is rather something that each one of us is

To see why, we can consider what is involved in performing an everyday task, like cleaning a window. The task of cleaning a window requires selecting the appropriate tools. In this case, we would perhaps use a simple cloth, rather than,

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say, a pneumatic drill. The reason is obvious: the nature of a glass window is such that a cloth would function as an appropriate tool for cleaning it, and a drill would not. Implicitly we are making a judgment about the nature or ‘being’ of the tool in respect to the nature of the task at hand. Likewise, if we choose a spoon rather than a fork to drink soup, we do so under the assumption that the nature of the spoon, as opposed to that of the fork, fits the task of drinking soup. What Lawson wants to get at is this: in selecting a certain tool for a certain task, we implicitly assume or presuppose that the nature of the tool fits the nature of the task.

that when economists use mathematical models, this method is itself never justified in relation to whatever is being studied.

Rather, economists proceed on the assumption that mathematical models are already relevant to their study. From this perspective, modern economics as a discipline is defined by its tools, not by its task. However, as we have seen, the use of any tool also carries with it some implicit assumptions about the nature of the task to which it is being applied. In particular, it presupposes what the task should be like in order for the tool to be successfully applied to it. We are now in a position to ask, then, what the widespread use of methods of mathematical modelling presupposes with regards to economic analysis.

Lawson suggests that sciences proceed in a similar fashion to the way we do as we go about our day-to-day lives. A science adopts various methods to illuminate a given aspect of reality. To do so successfully, the method must be appropriate to the nature of the subjectmatter. A scientist should ask: what is it that I am trying to study (the task), and how should I go about studying it (the tool)? These questions are basic ontological questions, as they are concerned with the nature of both the subject-matter and the method of study. In economics, Karl Marx remarked that for economic analysis, microscopes and chemical reagents are of little use. So what method should we use instead?

A function, put simply, is a relationship between variables. A change in one variable x will lead to a change in another, y, corresponding to the way in which the relationship is defined by the function. A basic example from economics would be a demand function, which relates the demand for a good to its price. For example, if the price of a good increases by one unit, then demand falls by ten units.

While economic models get vastly more complex than a basic demand function, their basic underlying assumptions are the same. Namely, the use of these models presupposes the ubiquity of what Lawson calls event regularities. These are regularities of the form: ‘whenever event (or state of affairs) x, then event (or state of affairs) y’. In order for these models to be successful tools for undertaking economic analysis, such event regularities should be widespread in the economic, or in general the human world. Is this found to be the case?

Currently, the method that is almost universally adopted by modern mainstream economists is that of mathematical modelling, specifically models which rely on functional relations.

Open any economics journal or textbook, and you will find reference to production functions, utility functions, investment functions, and etcetera. Lawson points out

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In the natural sciences, event regularities in the form ‘whenever x, then y’ are mostly limited to the controlled experiment. A controlled experiment is a situation in which the effect of one variable on a certain outcome is isolated from all the other variables that could influence that outcome. If a leaf is dropped in a vacuum, it will fall at a constant rate, because only one causal mechanism is operating on it: gravity. In the outside world, however, additional causes such as wind and aerodynamic forces act on the leaf, and no event regularity is possible. We can refer to the controlled experiment and the outside world respectively as closed and open systems. A closed system is a system in which a single causal mechanism is isolated and an event regularity is produced, and an open system is a system in which many and changing causal mechanisms influence the course of events.

certain contexts, but not in others. Rather, it is ontological neglect that lies at the heart of the problems of modern economics. Instead of determining the nature of the task and selecting the appropriate tools accordingly, modern economists pick their tools, and proceed on the assumption that they are fit for the task.

So what’s the way forward for economics?

Lawson’s gives us some ideas. Taking the nature of thing central to the study of economics, Lawson observes: Marx analyzed the nature of capital and capitalism, Veblen considered the nature of institutions, Keynes that of money and probability, Coase that of the corporation, etcetera. In this way, his call for a return to ontology is a feat already familiar to us all, that is an essential feature of all science, that is already implicitly present in modern economics, and finally something that is itself part of the tradition of the discipline of economics.

It perhaps becomes clear why modern economics is considered to lack relevance to the ‘real world’. For its methods assume that the economy, and the human world writ large, is a closed system. But we have good reason to believe that the economy is an open system in which many different causes operate, and that these causes themselves are subject to change. Hence, the formula ‘whenever event x, then event y’ is inapplicable to the study of the economy. However, the problem lies not with mathematics as such; cloths, drills, spoons and forks serve their purpose in

References Lawson, T. (1997) Economics and Reality.

London: Routledge.

Lawson, T. (2003). Reorienting Economics.

London: Routledge.

Lawson, T. (2015). Essays on: the Nature and State of Modern Economics. London: Routledge.

Lawson, T. (2010) ‘Economics and Science’, The Transatlantic Journal of Economics and Philosophy. 1(1), pp. 9-13.

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Metaphysics

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Unraveling Mimetic Theory: Are Our Desires Truly Ours?

BY AASHKA TANK

Human desires have long been a subject

imitation leads to a cycle of "mimetic rivalry," where individuals desire the same objects due to their observation of others' desires. As mimetic rivalry intensifies, it can lead to competition and conflict. When multiple individuals desire the same object, tensions arise, potentially resulting in aggression and rivalry. Girard's theory suggests that much of human conflict, both on an individual and societal level, can be traced back to this imitative desire and the resulting competition.

of philosophical and psychological exploration. From ancient thinkers like Plato and Aristotle to contemporary scholars, understanding the origins and nature of our desires has been an ongoing quest. One intriguing perspective that sheds light on this topic is René Girard's mimetic theory. This theory delves into the idea that our desires are not inherently our own but are instead shaped by the desires of others around us. In this article, we will explore mimetic theory, the concept of Maya from Indian philosophy, and the implications they hold for the autonomy of our desires.

Mimetic Theory: A Brief Overview René Girard, a French historian, literary critic, and philosopher, introduced mimetic theory in the mid-20th century.

At its core, mimetic theory proposes that human desires are imitative in nature. It suggests that individuals do not develop desires in isolation, but rather, their desires are influenced by the desires and actions of others in their social environment. Girard argues that imitation is fundamental to human behavior from infancy onwards. Babies learn by imitating the gestures and expressions of their caregivers. This mimetic tendency continues into adulthood, impacting our preferences, choices, and aspirations. According to Girard, this process of

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Indian Philosophy and the Concept of Maya

considered such a person spurs one to splurge on luxury goods.

Drawing upon Indian philosophy, particularly Advaita Vedanta, the concept of Maya offers another perspective on the shaping of desires. Maya refers to the illusion or appearance of the material world, which obscures the true nature of reality. According to Advaita Vedanta, individuals are often ensnared by Maya, leading them to develop desires for transient and materialistic pursuits that are ultimately illusory.

Maya underscores the idea that external factors, including societal norms and material possessions, play a significant role in shaping desires. This aligns with mimetic theory's assertion that our desires are influenced by our environment and the desires of others.

On the other hand, metaphysical goods pertain to inner fulfillment, spiritual growth, and genuine self-discovery. They have very little to do with the external world, or being recognised in it. While mimetic influences can still impact these desires, they are often driven by an intrinsic yearning for deeper meaning. For instance, our imitative tendencies may spark our desire to have our own blog if our friend has one, or reading this may make you want to write your own piece on philosophy.

However, this is fundamentally distinct from aping worldly aspirations, or mimetic rivalry as Girard views it. This is because the means and degree of fulfilment lies solely in ourselves.

For example, whether painting or writing will lead to our internal satisfaction is not determined by what others are doing, or which is perceived as being superior by society. It instead depends on our own preferences and proclivities.

Distinction Between Metaphysical Goods

Physical

and

Within the realm of desires, it is crucial to distinguish between physical and metaphysical goods. Physical goods encompass material possessions, sensory pleasures, and external status symbols.

These desires are often shaped by societal influences and can be seen as products of mimetic tendencies and the illusion of Maya. We desire physical goods because they project an image of ourselves out onto the world and mould the manner in which people perceive us. For instance, several people are willing to pay an exorbitant premium on products with visible branding or flashy sports cars. One aspect of this could be the intrinsic quality of the good, but what is more salient for a consumer is what owning a product says about him or her. We all have a perception of a person driving a Masserti - someone debonair, perhaps privileged and almost certainly wealthy. The allure of being

The Free Will Debate The free will debate revolves around the question of whether humans possess genuine, unbounded autonomy in making choices or if our decisions are predetermined by factors such as genetics, environment, and past experiences.

Mimetic theory introduces an additional layer to this debate by suggesting that our desires themselves might be influenced by external sources.

For instance, existentialist philosophers like Jean-Paul Sartre emphasize radical freedom, asserting that humans are condemned to be free. Sartre argues that we are responsible for our choices even in the absence of external guidance. Mimetic theory challenges this perspective by

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suggesting that our desires may not be entirely self-generated, potentially curbing the extent of our radical freedom.

between physical and metaphysical goods can guide us towards a more balanced understanding of autonomy. While external influences and mimetic tendencies play a significant role, our capacity for self-reflection and the pursuit of genuine, lasting fulfillment demonstrates that our desires are not solely products of external forces. Instead, they represent the intricate interplay between our social environment, personal aspirations, and the quest for deeper meaning.

On the other hand, some compatibilist philosophers argue that free will can coexist with determinism —the idea that events are determined by prior causes. From a mimetic standpoint, one could argue that even if desires are influenced by external factors, our ability to choose from among these influenced desires still constitutes a form of free will within a deterministic framework. So, while we cannot choose the societal constraints that shape the general set of desires that we possess, we can, as from a menu, choose the specific aspirations that we subscribe to. From this perspective of recognising the boundaries of our freedom, but being cognisant of the ‘wiggle room,’ we exert more control over our desires, which do not necessarily have to be static. As I have tried to illustrate, this domain of personal choice is more profound when it comes to metaphysical desires. Thus, by focusing on those, we can move the impetus of our lives away from chasing sensory and societally dictated goals to pursuing meaningful, personal aims.

References

Bhargava, R. (2017) ‘The mimetic, the mythic and the theoretic’, The Hindu, 22 Jul.

Imran, M.H. and Zhai, Z. (2021) ‘A critical review on the mimetic theory of René Girard: Politics, religion, and violence’, Journal for the Theory of Social Behaviour, pp. 362- 376.

Internet Encylopedia of Philosophy (no date) Girard, Rene.

Larios, B. and Collins, B. (2016) ‘Hindu Mythology : Studies in Violence, Mimesis, and Culture’, Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, 79(1), pp.195–197.

Mimetic theory provides a thoughtprovoking lens through which to view the complexities of human desires. The concept of Maya from Indian philosophy further accentuates the role of external factors in shaping our desires, particularly those influenced by the illusion of the material world.

Burgis, L. (n.d.) What is Mimetic Desire?.

As we navigate the intricate landscape of desires, recognizing the distinction

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Is Destiny Merely a Way of Romanticising Our Lack of Free Will?

BY SHAYLI CHANDARANA our choices are not our own and thus we cannot possibly exercise free will.

However, other scholars take a more comprehensive view. For example, Thomas Nagel believes that free will is a tool which we can use to shape our destiny. Peter Van Inwagen considers determinism essential in deciding the relationship between free will and destiny. He argues that if determinism is true, then destiny is formed by our past experiences and the laws of nature. Moreover, if indeterminism is true, then destiny is formed by our past experiences, the laws of nature and chance. This culminates in the broad definition of destiny as the ‘predetermined course of our lives’. All of these schools of thought will be explored with references to modern day ethics, Confucian thought, fatalism and causal determinism.

Popular culture, religion and astrology fanatics all demonstrate a strong attraction to the concept of destiny. The laws of fate and karma have no mathematical explanation, yet they provide comfort in the midst of unfortunate life events and other such unexpected circumstances.

However, if every decision we make is predetermined by destiny, then at what point are we able to exercise free will? Is the lure of the concept of destiny simply that it is a way to disguise our non-existent free will?

First and foremost, let us define the concepts in question. Robert Kane defines ‘destiny’ as the ‘predetermined course of our lives, or as the inevitable outcome of our choices’. This inevitability is what complicates our ability to exercise free will.

Alternatively, ‘free will’ is the ability to exercise our beliefs and autonomy free from external influence. The issue we are concerned with is examining the complex relationship between these two concepts.

Fatalism Fatalism is a subset of determinism and explores our belief or faith in a higher power. The idea that God is omniscient directly contradicts with the notion of free will, as it purports the belief that all of our actions are predetermined. Similarly, fatalism is the belief that we have no control over our fate as all events of our lives have already been written.

Previous philosophical scholars have varying opinions on how ‘destiny’ and ‘free will’ marry up. Daniel Dennett offers a reductionist view that ‘destiny’ and ‘free will’ can only exist as opposites. He argues that if our destiny is predetermined, then

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Boethius examined these concepts by contrasting free will with predestination.

He argues that although God is omniscient, God has not predetermined our choices.

This is due to the difference between ‘scienta simplicis’ and ‘scienta visionis’.

The former considers knowledge of what is possible, whilst the latter refers to knowledge of what is actual. Boethius argues that God has ‘scienta visionis’ of everything that will happen, but not ‘scienta simplicis’, as our choices are not actual until we make them. This can be used to support a compatible view of free will and destiny, inferring that our destiny may be broad, but free will narrows things down.

encourage humans to act morally throughout their lifetime. This Christian thought encourages the notion of free will and departs from the idea that all events are predetermined, otherwise known as destiny.

In Hindu tradition, the goddess Vidhaata is said to write the life story of a new-born child on the sixth day after birth. Mothers will leave out a notebook and a pen on the sixth evening, and this notebook is never to be touched again as it is said that interference will rewrite the events of an individual’s life. However, the well-known Hindu tradition of ‘karma’ enforces the belief that actions in this life will affect the next. This follows the belief of reincarnation, tying together morality and mortality. These traditions indicate that free will does exist, but the actions you freely take will affect the course of events in your next life. Complying with Nagel’s belief in using free will as a tool to configure your destiny, and advocating for an interdependent relationship between free will and destiny.

Predestination, in Christian theology, preaches that God is omniscient and therefore all events are predetermined, eradicating the possibility of humans being able to exercise free will. However, the Bible teaches that man must be motivated to act morally in order enjoy a pleasant afterlife, and avoid a torturous one. If all of our actions are predetermined, God must have decided who shall be condemned to hell, regardless of their actions. This erodes any incentive to behave morally as one’s fate is already sealed, asserting the concept of predetermined destiny.

Belief in a higher power is not necessarily supported by science. However, I believe that people should take confidence in the notion of a higher power when struggling to make impactful decisions. In this way, ‘destiny’ can be comforting to the indecisive by releasing the pressure of making each decision.

Another comprehensive view that integrates ‘free will’ with ‘destiny’, relies on the fact that we cannot know what our destiny holds. As actors of will, we do not know our destiny so our actions are free to us. This poses the question that even if we decide we do have free will, it is impossible to know without being able to see proof of our destiny.

In The Consolation of Philosophy, Boethius discusses ‘purification’ and the importance of free will which can be interpreted to show assimilation with purgatory.

Purgatory is a ‘waiting room’ of sorts that allows people to undertake specific punishment to atone for their sins, and purify themselves for heaven. In Medieval times, families of the deceased would pray to ‘lighten’ their loved ones’ souls to reduce their time in purgatory. In this way, purgatory is further motivation to

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Confucius was a Chinese philosopher who departed from fatalism, instead affirming that humans are born with natural dispositions that are cultivated by culture, education and personal ethics. These factors influence our choices but by no means eradicate our free will. The fact that individuals of the same family, who most likely share the same cultural education and ethics, still make different decisions further proves that these factors do not entirely interfere with free will. Instead, they may simply limit free will to a certain extent. This can be married up again with Nagel’s thought of using free will as a mechanism of shaping one’s destiny.

previously discussed in terms of culture, education and ethics may appear to limit our ability to make free choices. However, this reinforces the idea that choices are not made in a vacuum and are not random, thereby evidencing free will. Similarly, David Hume includes the influence of past experiences in his definition of free will, further supporting that causal determinism actually evidences free will.

A popular television show, ‘The Good Place’, follows the curators of the afterlife.

The show explores the idea that morals change with people and overtime, and therefore, the afterlife must reflect this.

This illustrates a slow departure from causal determinism; the architect, Michael, is eventually convinced that the point system is weak and that people’s destinies are not predetermined. The characters also seem to reflect changes in their free will when put in different environments. For example, the lead character is selfish in the mortal world but conforms to become selfless when influenced by ethical people and culture.

Causal determinism Causal determinism purports the belief that every event is decided by the one that preceded it. Life is a never ending chain of cause and effect, as displayed through Shakespeare’s tragedy ‘Macbeth’ which alludes to the idea that the independent role we play in decision making is merely an illusion. The effect of this school of thought on the existence of free will depends on how we choose to define free will.

Immanuel Kant defines free will as the ability to act independently of causal laws.

This school of thought strays from both Confucius theology and causal determinism. Offering an entirely new perspective on what constitutes free will, and thus the extent to which destiny is used as a disguise. He explores the relationship between free will and destiny by distinguishing between the ‘phenomenal world’ and the ‘noumenal world’, arguing that free will exists in the latter. This is because our choices are filtered through the laws of nature in the ‘phenomenal world’.

If ‘free will’ is merely the ability to make a choice, then it is possible that causal determinism still allows for free will. We are actors of our own will, because we made the original decision that all following events are consequences of.

Furthermore, being forced to suffer the consequences of each decision encourages people to behave morally in order to avoid harsh consequences. This departs from ‘destiny’ as it gives people control of their experiences.

Limitations from Confucius thought are relevant here. The laws of nature

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Confucius’ theology combats this proposition by stating that free will that has been filtered through the laws of nature, still constitutes free will. The choices we make are in response to the laws of nature, just how the actions of an animal are influenced by its habitat. This does not make our will any less valid. In considering the ‘compatibilist’ arguments, it is evident that free will and destiny can coexist of equal importance. One is not merely a disguise for the lack of the other.

disguise for our lack of free will. ‘Destiny’ and ‘free will’ are important concepts, and their relationship varies depending on how mutually exclusive you personally believe they are.

References Fischer, J.M. and Kane, R. (2000) ‘The Significance of Free Will’, Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 60(1), pp.141.

Conclusion

Van Inwagen, P. and Dennett, D.C. (1988) ‘Elbow Room: The Varieties of Free Will Worth Wanting’, Noûs, 22(4), pp.609.

‘Destiny’ connotes a mystical pathway that has been carved out by a divine power for each individual. It is a mind boggling concept that reaps as many strengths as it does weaknesses. However, the extent to which it impedes free will depends entirely on one’s personal faith and beliefs. The indecisive might use destiny to strengthen their free will by taking confidence in the idea that their decisions have already been made. This would mean that each decision is the correct decision. In addition, knowing our lives rest with a divine power does not make us blameless as we must still pay for our actions. This was discovered whilst comparing morality with mortality. Would we still believe in fate if we had scientific proof that there was no afterlife; no consequences for our prewritten actions?

Nagel, T. (1974) ‘What Is It Like to Be a Bat?’, The Philosophical Review, 83(4), pp.435–450.

Vyasa. (circa 400 BCE - 200 CE) Bhagavad Gita. Translated from Sanskrit by Laurie L. Patton. London: Penguin.

Hume, D. (2009) Treatise of Human Nature: Being an Attempt to introduce the experimental Method of Reasoning into Moral Subjects. Auckland: The Floating Press.

Sidgwick, H. (1888) ‘The Kantian Conception of Free Will’, Mind, os-XIII(51), pp.405–412.

Boethius, Stewart, H.F. and Rand, E. K. (1920) ‘Boethius: The Theological Tractates and the Consolation of Philosophy’, The Consolation of Philosophy, 41(1), pp.85–85.

Destiny, with its mythical connotations that praise the delusional, is a good disguise. However, humans are actors of will. Each school of thought fails to come to a conclusion as there is no conclusive evidence. Free will is essential to humanity but is guided by morality, culture and education. Therefore, it would be reductionist to view destiny as merely a

Dubs, H.H. (1951) ‘Confucius: His Life And Teaching’, Philosophy, 26(96), pp.30–36.

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Moral Philosophy

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Nietzsche’s Concept of ‘Amor fati’ and How It Can Transform Our Perception of Life

BY NAZ KARADEDE

“I want to learn more and more to see

Context and background on Nietzsche’s concept of ‘amor fati’

as beautiful what is necessary in things; then I shall be one of those who makes things beautiful. Amor fati: let that be my love henceforth!” – Friedrich Nietzsche

Nietzsche’s concept of ‘amor fati’ was largely inspired and devised in response to the pessimistic philosophy of the German idealist and philosopher Arthur Schopenhaur. German idealism was a school of thought that emerged in philosophy at the end of the 18th Century in response to the materialism, rationalism, and anti-metaphysical worldview of the Enlightenment.

According to Schopenhauer, the universe and everything in it is driven by a single, monist principle – a will to live. This will to live manifests itself in living beings as a desire for self-perseverance and selfsubsistence.

Pain, suffering, loss — we are all destined to experience hardship and struggle to a certain degree in our lives. The complexity of our relationships with others, the unpredictability of human life, and the fickleness of human nature all make suffering and pain inevitable; an unavoidable part of what it means to be human and what it means to be alive.

However, centuries of technological advancement and scientific progress have made life easier and more efficient, reducing some of the greatest sources of pain and suffering — such as illness and extreme poverty. Despite this, studies have shown that humans, as a whole, are not happier than they were a few centuries ago. But what is the cause of this continuation of pain and suffering? And how can we change our mind-set to alleviate it?

Nietzsche’s timeless philosophy of ‘amor fati’ can help provide us with valuable answers to these enduring questions.

Since the will ultimately has no end goal or purpose, its complete satisfaction is impossible. The attainment of a desire does provide satisfaction, whereas the frustration of its attainment results in suffering. However, for Schopenhauer, this satisfaction is fleeting and temporary, given that it is readily replaced by another desire, which results in suffering again until that desire is attained. This recurring cycle of desiring, attaining, and then desiring

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again means that existence is characterised by constant suffering. Whilst this cycle afflicts all of nature, human being possess intellectual capabilities which render them uniquely more conscious and aware of their suffering. This, in turn, magnifies our degree of suffering.

that we have when we overcome the resistance to our desires, and thereby, suffering that accompanies it.

Desiring, and suffering, for Nietzsche, are unavoidable and necessary in life; unavoidable because we are all bound to experience them in our lives, and necessary, for without them, we would not be able to learn, grow, and be happy.

Nietzsche proposes acceptance of this reality as a part of our fate. “My formula for greatness in a human being is amor fati: that one wants nothing to be different, not forward, not backward, not in all eternity.

Not merely bear what is necessary, still less conceal it, but love it,” he says. What he means is that we should not only bear our desires and the suffering that they cause us, which are necessary to our fate, but also learn to love them. We should learn to love our fate as it is, without striving to negate our desires and escape suffering.

That is the meaning of the widely-quoted phrase “amor fati”: love of one’s fate, as it is and as a whole.

Schopenhauer’s philosophy remains relevant today. The capitalist-consumerist culture that we are constantly exposed to through advertising has instilled in us desires for products that we neither need, nor derive any additional value from. We feel a sense of artificial satisfaction when we attain these objects, which lasts only until we start desiring the next new iPhone, sports car, or expensive house.

Schopenhauer advises transcending this state of constant desire and avoiding suffering through rational asceticism, a limitation of all desires and indulgences, much like the religious ascetics of the preEnlightenment period.

Nietzsche’s response to Schopenhauer and ‘amor fati’

How the philosophy of ‘amor fati’ can transform our lives

Whilst Nietzsche agrees with Schopenhauer that existence is characterised by periods of prolonged suffering, he criticises his mentor for being too nihilistic and pessimistic in his approach to it. He rejects the idea that we should negate our desires because they cause us suffering. Instead, he proposes that we should affirm all aspects of life, including the pain, the hardships, and the struggles that we face. For without pain and suffering, we would not be able to appreciate the moments of happiness and contentment that we experience in life.

“What is happiness?” he asks, but “the feeling that power is growing, that resistance is overcome.” It is the feeling

‘Amor fati’ is at its core a philosophy of affirmation. Affirming all the occurrences of life, including suffering. Humans, to Nietzsche, are beings that create their own values and thus meaning in life. He rejects the idea that we are bound by a priori moral values prescribed by religious and social conventions. And one of the values that we should strive to include in our system of moral values is affirmation: affirming all the occurrences in one’s life, including the bad. At first sight, this philosophy does not seem appear to be radical or transformative. But imagine how impactful it can be once we start applying

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it in our daily lives. If we start viewing the suffering, resistance, and obstacles that we face as necessary to our fate, and affirming them as such, we can focus on overcoming them instead of condemning them. We can become far more resilient and content if we do so. These obstacles can be as simple as solving a petty quibble with a relative, or as difficult as competing in an election. The philosophy of ‘amor fati’ can transform our lives by transforming our attitude towards it. All we need, as Nietzsche says, is the courage to see what is beautiful in that which is necessary.

References: AI TV - Changing how the world thinks.

(2021). Schopenhauer vs Nietzsche: The meaning of suffering.

Wolin, R. (n.d.). Continental philosophy | Definition, Examples, Characteristics, Summary, & Facts | Britannica.

Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy. (n.d.).

Schopenhauer, Arthur | Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy.

Doorn, M. van (2019). Friedrich Nietzsche On The Secret Ingredient For Happiness. [online] The Understanding Project.

Friedrich Nietzsche (2004). Ecce Homo.

Penguin UK.

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Can War Ever Be Truly Just?

BY ELENE SURMELASHVILI (Reichberg, 2010, pg. 225). Importantly, Aquinas emphasized that war is a conflict between combatants, highlighting the duty to protect noncombatants such as women, children, and other civilians (Jourdain and Crayon, 1858).

A state’s decision to wage war can stem from a multitude of complex motivations – ranging from the imperative of national security to factors rooted in religion, geography, or economics, often intricately entwined. Just war theory, a philosophical doctrine of military ethics, seeks to determine the conditions in which waging war is justifiable. This framework has two main branches: Jus ad bellum, which addresses ‘the right to wage war’, and jus in bello, which explores ‘rightful conduct in war’. Less often discussed, but equally important, is jus post bellum, referring to the duty of aggressors to re-build states post-war.

Aquinas’ ideas sparked a debate as to whether waging war can ever be just.

Opponents of the so-called Thomistic Just War Thesis often cite the historical example of the Crusades to highlight how even wars that seemingly meet Aquinas’ criteria, could run into moral dilemmas.

The Crusades were originally promoted as a pilgrimage for the ‘Holy Land’. However, its aims quickly evolved – to wage a defense war to regain captured Christian territory (Maoz and Henderson, 2020, 20).

These notions were engrained into the minds of the highly religious youth, who enthusiastically took up arms in ‘defense’ of their Christian neighbors. In 1095-96, Pope Urban II sent the first crusader armies on dual missions: one to attack the Muslims who were at war with the Byzantine Empire, and the other to recapture Jerusalem from Islamic rulers.

(Chevedden, 2008, pg.183)

The philosophical discourse surrounding warfare focussed on discussing “justifications for entering the war, and […] appropriate activities within war” (Cuomo, 1996). In the 13th century, the priest and philosopher, Thomas Aquinas, entered this debate, arguing that the act of waging war is not a universal moral wrong (Aquinas in Reichberg, 2010, pg. 219). In his bestknown work, the Summa Theologica, Aquinas consolidated earlier Western just war theories and developed criteria under which waging war could be morally justifiable. First, war must be undertaken under the leadership of a legitimate sovereign. Second, the conflict must be fought for a ‘just’ cause, for example in response to a wrong done by the attacked.

Third, those engaged in combat must bear moral intent - to promote good and prevent evil. In Aquinas’ eyes, a war that meets these criteria serves the greater good, and can therefore be deemed just

Considering the Thomistic just war thesis, both primary reasons for starting the Crusades could be deemed morally justifiable: they received papal authorization, and were framed as defensive actions that aimed at serving the higher good of liberating Christians from Muslim oppressors. However, over time, the Crusades evolved into large-scale wars which resulted in tragic deaths of innocent people. The Crusades demonstrate how

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malicious intent can be masked as altruistic, and can easily find resonance in young minds. In his work History of the Crusades (1951), historian Steven Runciman argues that the Crusades represented a barbarous chapter of Christian aggression, stepping beyond the remits of just war theory. The Massacre of Jerusalem in 1099 stands as a poignant example, involving the genocide and looting of Muslim and Jewish populations at the hands of Christian crusaders.

defense is more obvious – defending its sovereignty and resisting integration into the Russian state.

Second, the Russia-Ukraine war illustrates the challenges of protecting noncombatants from harm in armed conflicts.

Recent reports such as those from Human rights watch researchers in Bucha have described unlawful killings committed by Russian soldiers (Human Rights Watch, 2022). Despite the imperative to shield civilians, medical personnel, and others uninvolved, such war crimes happen frequently.

The concept of determining a ‘just’ cause for the use of violence is a complex and controversial issue. Because of this, Pacifists universally condemn the wielding of violence – both in form of attacks, and as a means to resist, punish, or prevent violence (Narveson, 1965, 259). Whilst the philosophy to ‘do no harm’ has a long pedigree, Pacifism as a political ideology was popularized by 14th century Renaissance humanist thinkers.

As modes of warfare evolve, so too will theories of just war. The emergence of nuclear weaponry, for example, has both reignited the interest in just war theory and prompted its revision as we confront the moral challenges posed by contemporary warfare.

References

Thomas Aquinas’ philosophical contributions remain hugely relevant today, transcending the realm of Christian philosophy, and impacting international law. This influence is, for example, reflected in the Geneva and Hague conventions, which establish internationally agreed rules for the conduct of warfare. These conventions form the basis for the prosecution of unjust aggressor states and their leaders.

Chevedden, Paul E. (2008) ‘The Islamic View and the Christian View of the Crusades: A New Synthesis’, History, 93(310), pp. 181– 200.

As Russia’s war in Ukraine continues to rage on, it impels us to contemplate the question of whether any war can truly be considered ‘just’. First, the war demonstrates the complexity of objectively distinguishing good intent from bad, with both sides claiming to fight on just grounds. While Russia claims to be driven by the ‘de-Nazification’ of Ukraine, and the protection of Russian-speaking populations from ethnic cleansing, the rationale behind Ukraine’s counter-

Maoz, Zeev and Henderson, Errol A. (2020) ‘Religion and World Politics—Theory and Evidence’, In Scriptures, Shrines, Scapegoats, and World Politics: Religious Sources of Conflict and Cooperation in the Modern Era. Michigan: University of Michigan Press, pp.

1–24.

Human Rights Watch (2022) ‘Ukraine: Russian Forces’ Trail of Death in Bucha’.

Jourdain, Charles. (1858) ‘The Philosophy of Saint Thomas Aquinas’, The Crayon, 5(11), pp. 306–8.

Narveson, Jan. (1965) ‘Pacifism: A Philosophical Analysis’ Ethics, 75(4), pp.

259–71.

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Reichberg, Gregory M. (2010) ’Thomas Aquinas Between Just War and Pacifism’, The Journal of Religious Ethics, 38(2), pp.

219–41.

Walters, LeRoy. (1973) ‘The Just War And The Crusade: Antitheses or Analogies?’, The Monist, 57 (4), pp. 584–94.

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A Critique of Locke: on the Basis of Species

BY KORUSH LEONARDO CASILLAS-RIVERA

Is nature a compass for morality? If something exists in a purely natural state, does this assume an attachment of moral correctness? What exactly is a ‘state of pure nature’? Can the ‘natural order’ be changed at the hands of the right species? At what point can a species eject itself from the confines of natural order and the pool of resources Earth has provided? And even if mankind, as a collective, does not regard itself as part of that pool, what gives us the right to then appropriate it as we please?

John Locke’s Second Treatise (1689) offers us a particularly interesting perspective as we navigate these difficult questions. Locke’s claims on the rights humans have over the resources of Earth are heavily influenced by the general consensus of human exceptionalism. This article analyses some of the most problematic aspects of Locke’s thought.

Locke posits a fundamental belief that the resources earth produces, and the animals that depend on them, belong to mankind collectively. In his First Treatise, Locke argues that mankind has been afforded this right to use the fruits of earth and its creatures by God, who imbues man with a natural desire for self-preservation. Furthermore, God planted reason in man, and the understanding that in pursuing his self-preservation, he pursues the Will of God (I.86). In sum, Locke’s belief that humans are separate and above the pool of Earth’s resources is based on their unique faculties of reason, which allow us to contemplate God. However, he also posits that this desire to preserve mankind is a “natural inclination”.

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Some questions emerge from Locke’s argument that the purpose of reason is not to interpret God’s laws of nature, but rather to ‘assure’ and ‘teach’ humanity that it is in fact true. When Locke writes that the law of nature is unwritten and found only in the “minds of men”, does he not imply that God’s desire and Will relies on humanity’s capacity to reason and think, as opposed to existing omnipotently? And, if God’s nature does exist omnipotently, the question of whether reason exists becomes irrelevant, because following the Will of God is a “natural inclination” and therefore not something that can be interpreted subjectively by any form of reason.

In ‘Lyons and Tigers and Wolves’, Jishnu Guha-Majumador argues that faculties of reason allows humans to discover and interpret natural law. This raises the question of how natural law could initially declare man’s right to non-humans. (p.646). Moreover, in the First Treatise, Locke highlights the instinctive rather than intellectual character of animal nature. The natural fear that animals have of man is proof that they ought to be dominated by mankind. However, the concept of reason that places humanity above animals is their reason to understand God and not reason in itself and that their understanding of reason in this context is that they are simply self-aware of their “natural inclination” to preserve themselves. Thus, in Locke’s account, humans and animals find themselves in a state of ‘primordial equality’, defined by the clashing desire of self-preservation in their original states (Wadiwel, War Against Animals, p.152; Guhu-Majumador).

From a moral perspective, it is clear that simply being aware of one’s “natural” inclination does not justify the subjugation of all other creatures. Rather, Locke uses this rationale to justify humanity’s collective ability to dominate and use animals for their own preservation.

finds Locke’s definition problematic, pointing out that animals too have the ability to reason. However, where Locke dismisses the distinction of ‘man’ and instead refers to those that are of a specific level of rationality, he argues that rationality exists on a spectrum which frustrates the need for equality to establish a binary distinction between those that belong to a class, and those that do not (Waldron, God, Locke, and Equality, p.72).

Summarily, Locke is wrong to argue that subjection to dominance and subordination is determined on the basis of reason or rationality, when the binary of what can and cannot reason is arbitrary, even on the basis of Locke’s Christian belief that God elected man to exercise dominion.

It is arguable that Locke himself undermines the consequential value he places in being human, where he posits that man is nothing but a ‘corporeal rational creature”. Suppose a pig was born with the level of rationality Locke believed to entitle him to be subject and protected by law, would we consider that pig a man, rather than a pig? Further, how do we draw a line on how rational one must be to be considered worthy of protection under the law? Is it then legitimate to subordinate the disabled?

Moving forward, let us, in this instance, say that the ability to reason has value in itself and that Locke, in some aspect, was correct to push its importance - even separate from God. Guha-Majumador correctly posits that for Locke, dominion over animals is the basis of human equality (p.644). This binary between dominance and subordination relies on Locke’s presupposition that humans are able to reason. In his Essays on Education (3.11.16), Locke expressly defined man as a “corporeal rational creature”. Waldron

The impossibility of objectively determining rationality has controversial implications throughout history, including the subordination of women. Stacey Clifford’s work on the ‘capacity contract’ makes this point, arguing that by placing pre-eminent value on reason and rationality in the context of powerdynamics empowers a select few, at the expense of the many (Clifford, 2014, 97).

Any attempts to establish differential capacity among human beings, she argues, will undermine progress towards equality (p.643).

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Interestingly, in his Essays on Education, Locke himself questions the concept of ‘thinking’. He writes that we have few perspectives that ultimately distinguish us from all other beings (E.4.2.23). GuhaMajumador argues that here Locke raises the prospect of a non-human-centred universe (p.643) in the case that a creature with more advanced faculties than humans is discovered.

References Clifford, S. ‘The Capacity Contract: Locke, Disability, and the Political Exclusion of ‘Idiots”, Politics, Groups and Identities, 2(1), pp. 97

Guha-Majumador asks an appropriate question – how can Locke construct a political order defined by species-based equality, when the object of equality itself is questionable? She rightly intuits that it is arbitrary to assign binary roles of subordination and dominance on the basis of a subjective spectrum of reason/ rationality and, more importantly, the concept of reason and rationality is too complex in itself to truly assign any form of fundamental or intrinsic value.

Ultimately, equality on the basis of an arbitrary spectrum of rationality cannot be justified if one is to assign position hierarchically. If one is to believe at all that equality exists on the basis that rationality/reason is valued, that equality must stretch to any being that possesses, even in the smallest capacity, what we consider to be reason. Though, even this comes with its inherent flaws - at what point can a being be said to possess even the slightest parcel of reason? These answers are, naturally, unclear and thus relates to the purpose of this article - to question the very fibre of what our morality is based on before coming to any concrete conclusion in our perspective. We must constantly challenge the way we perceive the world around us rather than adhering to arbitrary ways of thinking.

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The Consequences of Logical Consistency in Moral Philosophy

BY JAKE PERKIN defence of actions that society has generally agreed to be morally questionable seem all too common.

Like many university students, I went home for the summer and immediately found myself with a lot of spare time. To keep myself occupied, I signed up for an online law class to help fill the hours in the day. One class was dedicated to the legal reasoning behind Brown v. Board of Education (1954), the American Supreme Court case that outlawed segregation.

After the professor’s presentation, the class had a discussion on the legal reasoning. Student after student came forth highlighting some flaws in the Supreme Court’s reasoning. This raises an interesting dilemma. If the reasoning behind a legal decision is flawed, must it be overturned, even when the outcomes are moral and desirable?

The same dilemma emerged in a conversation with a friend about the philosophical basis of abortion. He based much of his arguments on Judith Jarvis Thompson’s A Defense of Abortion (Thomson, 1971). He extrapolated Thomson’s arguments much further to also apply to children after birth. He believed in the right of an individual to refuse resources to anyone dependent on them, and that it was only logically consistent for this principle to apply equally to a person in the womb or not. By this reasoning, child neglect would also be defensible. In the field of philosophy, arguments whose natural logical conclusions include the

Edmund Gettier’s influential paper ‘Is Justified True Belief Knowledge?’ discussed the issue of correct beliefs arising from incorrect logic (Gettier, 1963). But what about the reverse case; when valid logic leads to faulty conclusions? Immanuel Kant defended an individual telling an axe murderer where to find their victim (Kant & Abbott, 1898), Peter Singer defended the sexual assault of disabled people (Mcmahan & Singer, 2017), utilitarianism accidentally creating the utility monster (Nozick, 1974), and French postmodernists attempted to legalise paedophilia (Henley, 2001). Proponents and critics of these philosophical frameworks have dedicated hours of time and thousands of words trying to either rationalise or exacerbate these issues, mainly because none of these theories were meant to result in problems like this arising. Few moral philosophers seek to create theories in which harm is possible, and yet all of these stand as glaring flaws in their theories that need to be addressed in some way. But that alone does not mean that these theories should be thrown out in their entirety. After all, a core part of academic discussion is the ironing out of creases in new theories.

Perhaps it is valiant for these philosophers to stick so closely to their beliefs through

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himself, so that he be able to focus on practical political or social matters (Chroust, 1968). Even going back to the time of Aristotle, there has been a recognition of the echo chamber that philosophers can operate in, which generates difficulty in ruling in the interests of ordinary people.

hard questions. However, while it is incredibly entertaining to read a book defending telling an axe murderer where to find their victim, I cannot help feeling on an intuitive level that it is morally wrong. I see no benefit, and a lot of harm, to any of those real-world events happening. It concerns me that moral philosophers seem to forget that sexual assault, child neglect, and murder are not abstract concepts that you read about in a philosophy book.

Rather, these are real actions that harm real people. In my opinion, the tears and pain, sadness and love of real people, while not necessarily completely rational, trump any logical argument that could be put together. Surely, the prevention of harm to others must be held paramount to adherence to any singular moral philosophy, through to its logical conclusion.

Recent developments in British politics lend credence to the claim that that politicians that rigidly adhere to text-book ideology, without regard for practicality, often make the worst leaders. Rather, it is leaders that are prepared to compromise, and bend the mould of ideological principles in favour of pragmatism, that are best suited to govern.

Philosophers are occupied with establishing big theories that gets big answers to big questions. They often defend their ideas to the bitter end, dismissing the practical problems they might have. This detracts from the most important role of philosophy – to improve individuals and consequently, societies. It is hard to know when, or if, logic has gone too far and we have crossed a line into dangerous territory. Whilst the most outlandish ideas of any individual philosopher is unlikely to change public opinion broadly, what is more worrying is the culture of callousness that is created in philosophical spaces. Philosophers should be more comfortable abandoning logical consistency than defending intuitively problematic and immoral actions.

I am reminded that in my conversation about abortion, I pointed out to my friend that I thought his opinion would be widely unpopular. The simple response I got was “Why should I care as long as I am correct? This is philosophy, not politics.”

Should a philosopher, or anyone for that matter should, pursue pure logical consistency over a more empathetic and grounded approach?

So often, philosophers disregard human experience in favour of abstract logic.

I believe this all too frequent attitude in philosophy is the outgrowth of elitism. It would be relatively challenging to argue that philosophy is not an elitist field of study. The idea that elitism blinds philosophers to practical considerations is not new. A similar idea was used by Aristotle to criticise Plato’s idea of the philosopher king. While Plato saw a philosophical education as vital to a king performing his duties, Aristotle believed a king was better off being advised by a welltrained philosopher, instead of being one

References Brown v. Board of Education, 347 U.S. 483 (1954). Chroust, A.-H. (1968). ARISTOTLE’S CRITICISM OF PLATO’S “PHILOSOPHER KING.” Rheinisches Museum Für Philologie, 111(1), 16–22.

Gettier, E. L. (1963). Is justified true belief knowledge? Analysis, 23(6), 121–123.

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Henley, J. (2001, February 24). Calls for legal child sex rebound on luminaries of May 68. The Guardian.

Horowitz, I. L. (1966). On Alienation and the Social Order. Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 27(2), 230– 237.

Kant, I., & Abbott, T. K. (1898). On a Supposed Right to Tell Lies from Benevolent Motives. In Kant’s critique of practical reason: And other works on the theory of Ethics (pp. 361–365). essay, Longmans, Green and Co. Mcmahan, J., & Singer, P. (2017, April 3).

Who is the victim in the Anna Stubblefield case?. The New York Times.

Nozick, R. (1974). In Anarchy, State and Utopia (p. 41), Blackwell.

Thomson, J. (1971). A Defense of Abortion.

Philosophy & Public Affairs, 1(1).

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Philosophy of Art

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Do We Have an Obligation to Protect Cultural Heritage?

BY QUINCE PAN people with the strongest claim right to cultural heritage would be the ones most involved with cultural heritage. But who might they be? Looking at the past, one possibility is the creators of heritage objects. But it seems strange that they have a right to the persistence of their creations even beyond their death. Indeed, “heritage” is a term we apply to objects with historical value, and at the are time of creation, these objects have no historical value.

A historic building, a traditional craft, an endangered language — objects of cultural heritage that give us reasons to protect them. We recoil when we see people destroy an ancient monument without good reason. We feel indignant when a construction company digs up a Roman artefact and puts it back into the pit instead of handing it over to the local museum. Our indignation seems justified — supported by legitimate reason. Do we have an obligation to protect cultural heritage? And if we do, what kind of obligation is it?

Looking at the present, one possibility is the contemporaneous beneficiaries of cultural heritage. On this view, we wrong present-day appreciators of cultural heritage if we do not protect heritage objects. But again it seems strange that one has a right to the persistence of a heritage object merely by valuing it.

Because of the significance of moral norms (vis-à-vis norms of etiquette or rules of a game), it is popular to see moral obligation as the archetypal form of obligation, with other kinds of obligation (e.g., legal, political) being either comparable or reducible to moral obligation.

Furthermore, it is popular to see all moral obligations as “directed”, “bipolar”, or “second-personal”: owed to people, be they individuals or groups. On this account, moral obligations are closely associated with claim rights, because one’s moral obligation to φ arises when people are entitled to one’s φ-ing, and thus one wrongs (and warrants blame from and an apology to) these people by failing to φ.

A more promising possibility is the contemporaneous “managers” of cultural heritage, such as the wearers of a traditional costume or the speakers of an endangered language. These managers of cultural heritage have a greater interest in a heritage object because they are not only beneficiaries of the object, but also the very people who maintain the heritage object. It is controversial whether people can own heritage objects (e.g., Balinese dance) like property (Matthes, 2018). But, arguendo, let us assume so, for we do speak of cultural objects as theirs —

Suppose that we have such a moral obligation to protect cultural heritage. The

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Balinese dance not only as dance originating from Bali, but also the Balinese people’s dance.

protecting heritage objects is to ensure their persistence into the future.

Moreover, people often say that they want to protect cultural heritage (e.g., heirlooms) “for posterity”, suggesting that future generations stand to benefit in some way from the protection of heritage objects. But how might future generations benefit from heritage objects, and by virtue of what might future generations have a right to heritage objects?

Given that managers of heritage objects have a right to their persistence by owning them, what might this right be? An obvious candidate is property rights, because they generate obligations owed to the managers. But there is a mismatch: while property rights secure protection against theft and mischief, they do not secure protection against neglect.

The most straightforward answer, inspired by environmental ethics, is to link future generations’ benefits and rights, for these benefits are the most salient possible ground of any claim to heritage objects.

This answer lends itself to an interest theory of rights, whereby a right is generated by an interest significant enough to warrant safeguarding and enforcement. Thus, future generations may have a right to heritage objects’ persistence because the appreciation of heritage objects may be so fundamental to their well-being that they have a significant interest in the availability of heritage objects.

Despite this mismatch, one might insist that although our obligation to protect heritage objects is different from our obligation to protect property, this difference is one of degree, not kind. On this objection, the Taliban wronged the Bamiyan Valley tribespeople by destroying the Bamiyan Buddhas qua the tribespeople’s property, and the Bamiyan Buddhas’ heritage being merely aggravated was not the source of the wronging. However, we would still blame the Bamiyan tribespeople if they themselves had destroyed the Bamiyan Buddhas (presumably their property) indiscriminately, although we would not blame someone who rips his jeans indiscriminately. Furthermore, we would still blame people who indiscriminately destroy archaeological artefacts with no associated manager.

But this analogy with environmental ethics is questionable. Failing to protect the environment will threaten the lives of future generations, whereas failing to protect cultural heritage will only deprive future generations of many heritage objects. It is doubtful how cultural heritage can be an interest so significant as life itself as to generate a similar right. Furthermore, I have hitherto assumed that past and future humans have any rights at all, but even that is contested (Griffith, 2017). If future generations’ right to life hangs in the balance, cultural heritage will not stand a chance.

In any case, just like mere appreciators, it seems strange that the managers of a heritage object have any right to its persistence at all. What makes me, a wearer of traditional Javanese batik fabric, entitled to its persistence in such a way that obliges humanity in general to protect it?

Looking at the future, one possibility is the future custodians of cultural heritage.

Turning our attention to the future is wellmotivated, for the very purpose of

Moreover, the relationship between future generations’ right to cultural heritage, if any, and our present-day obligation to protect cultural heritage is tenuous.

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Assuming ought-implies-can, it is untenable for us to have an obligation to protect all heritage objects, for it is an impossible task. We must prioritise protecting some heritage objects over others. This relies on our judgment of which heritage objects are exemplary, and even which objects count as heritage objects in the first place. Such judgment is based on neither the interests of future generations nor certainly their input, but our assessment of historical significance.

Such judgment is also irreversible once we have chosen which objects to be labelled as “heritage objects” and thus protected, and which objects to be left to neglect or destruction. Therefore, it is unclear how the fulfilment of our obligation to protect cultural heritage serves future generations’ interests.

independent of our reactive attitudes towards those properties. This is a highly controversial position. But if it is correct, it settles the matter: heritage objects have aesthetic value whether we like it or not, and we have an aesthetic obligation to protect cultural heritage.

A more interesting and plausible answer is that a heritage object has aesthetic value by virtue of people’s valuing it aesthetically. Some have levelled this line of argument against the idea of a sui generis aesthetic obligation (Dyck, 2021; Matheson & Milam, 2021). Because the source of an object’s aesthetic value is peoples’ aesthetic response to the object’s properties and not the object’s properties per se, and any obligation which arises from value is owed to the source or bearer of value, thus, they conclude, we owe it to the valuers of a heritage object, or even the heritage object itself, to protect it.

Voilà, a moral obligation after all.

Altogether, the case for our obligation to protect cultural heritage being a moral one is unpromising.

When we recoil upon seeing people destroy an ancient monument, we are not primarily concerned about future generations being deprived of the monument, but rather the value of the monument qua heritage object.

However, the fact that appreciators of a heritage object are the source of the heritage object’s aesthetic value does not imply that they have a right to the heritage object. Nor does it imply that by conferring aesthetic value upon the heritage object, we also confer interests and rights upon the heritage object, such that we have a moral obligation to protect the heritage object that is owed to the heritage object.

In short, the second premise — that any obligation which arises from value is owed to the source or bearer of value — is dubious, for it presupposes that all value generates directed obligations, which are moral in nature.

Value gives rise to obligations because value furnishes us with deontic reasons for appropriate responses to value (e.g., recognition, respect, non-interference, protection), neglect of which is blameworthy. Given the difficulties of construing the value of cultural heritage in moral terms, I further contend that if the value of cultural heritage — and thus our obligation to protect it — is non-moral, it is aesthetic (old-world charm, perhaps). But how does the aesthetic value of a heritage object arise?

Therefore, our obligation to protect cultural heritage is an aesthetic, not moral, one. Four remarks follow.

One answer is that a heritage object has intrinsic aesthetic value: aesthetic value by virtue of the object’s properties,

First, none of this precludes the intertwining of different kinds of value. A heritage object (e.g., a historic nature

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reserve) may instantiate both aesthetic and moral value, such that we have both aesthetic and moral obligations to protect it.

Griffith, A. M. (2017) ‘The rights of future persons and the ontology of time’, Journal of Social Philosophy, 48(1), pp. 58–70.

Matheson, B., & Milam, P.-E. (2021) ‘The case against non-moral blame’, in M. Timmons (Ed.), Oxford Studies in Normative Ethics. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Second, because of its greater intuitive appeal, cultural heritage is a more promising example of aesthetic obligation than highfalutin fine art. Many arguments against aesthetic obligations cite fine art, which is deemed too detached from ordinary people to be conceivable of imposing obligations on them. Cultural heritage poses a challenge to these arguments.

Matthes, E. H. (2018) ‘The ethics of cultural heritage’, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. 12 July.

Third, aesthetic and other obligations are not just incommensurable but incomparable. If all obligation is, or is reducible to, moral obligation, one can appeal to a meta-ethical view (e.g., hedonism) to adjudicate between conflicting obligations although a metric is unavailable. Obligations would still be comparable, albeit incommensurable. But as to different kinds of obligations, there is no overarching principle to compare them against. Thus, in a dilemma between obligations of different kinds, the grounds of each are insufficient to defeat the other obligation. In the end, we simply choose, and incur justified blame for the obligation that we omit.

Fourth, as the saying goes, “one person’s modus ponens is another’s modus tollens”.

My argument merely establishes the conditional, and is committed to neither the antecedent nor consequent. Thus, my view is compatible with the denial of aesthetic obligations and the corresponding denial of our obligation to protect cultural heritage.

References Dyck, J. (2021) ‘There are no purely aesthetic obligations’, Pacific Philosophical Quarterly, 102(4), pp. 592–612.

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Philosophy of Mind

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AI and Consciousness: Navigating the Interplay of Mind and Machine

BY MATHILDA MULERT

Just five days after its launch in November 2022, OpenAI’s artificial intelligence (AI) large language model, ChatGPT, acquired 1 million users. In comparison, Facebook celebrated this milestone after roughly 10 months, while Netflix had to wait for 3.5 years. By now, many universities have implemented ChatGPT policies, and the use of AI in healthcare, criminal justice, and governance is rapidly growing. One thing is clear: AI is here, and it is here to stay. As we adjust to a technological landscape where AI becomes increasingly humanlike, a cascade of philosophical questions emerges. At the helm of this discourse are the two influential philosophical thinkers; Alan Turing and John Searle. Through their lenses, we embark on a journey that asks: Does intelligence require consciousness?

Can these two concepts exist independently?

And what ethical implications might this have?

The test works as follows: Imagine three participants are engaging in a conversation through a computer interface (like texting).

There is a human interrogator, a human responder, and a machine responder. The interrogator’s task is to chat to both respondents without knowing which one is the human and which one is the machine.

The machine passes the Turing Test if the interrogator is not able to consistently distinguish between the responses of the human and the machine. If this is the case, Turing argues, the machine can be considered intelligent.

Alan Turing and the Turing Test In 1950, when the concept of computers itself was in its infancy, English mathematician, computer scientist and philosopher Alan Turing published his seminal paper Computing Machinery and Intelligence. In it, Turing introduced his Turing Test, designed to assess the intelligence of machines through their ability to mimic human conversation.

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So, what is Turing’s threshold for a computer program to exhibit intelligence?

The Turing Test focuses on the machine’s observable behaviour - its ability to mimic human conversation - rather than its internal workings or thought processes.

But this raises a critical question: Can intelligence be boiled down to outward behaviour, or must the machine understand its outputs to be deemed intelligent?

What would Turing reply to Searle’s objection? In his 1950 paper, Turing preemptively acknowledges the Argument from Consciousness - the idea that a machine might lack true consciousness despite producing human-like responses.

He takes a pragmatic stance and replies that it is essentially irrelevant whether the machine really is conscious as long as it seems like it is. As our understanding of consciousness is phenomenological (i.e. based on subjective experiences and perceptions), Turing suggests a shift from internal states of the mind to observable behaviour. Put differently, if the machine exhibits intelligent behaviour, then we can consider it intelligent. His primary concern was not to delve into the intricacies of consciousness itself, but to develop a practical test that assesses machines’ intelligence.

John Searle and the Chinese Room As technology advanced, another thinker stepped onto the stage: In a 1980 article, the American philosopher John Searle published his thought experiment, the “Chinese Room”. This experiment challenges the Turing Test by further questioning what it means for a machine to be intelligent. In doing so, Searle is harder to satisfy than Turing.

Intelligence and Consciousness

His thought experiment works as follows: Imagine an English speaking person is sat in a room, armed with English instructions on how to manipulate Chinese symbols.

Although the person does not speak any Chinese, she is able to use these instructions to communicate with a Chinese speaking person outside of the room through an exchange of written notes. The outcome is a flowing Chinese conversation, despite lacking any comprehension from the person inside the room.

Whether or not Searle’s objection resonates with you, the Chinese Room opens the door to an expansive philosophical debate that extends over centuries and a variety of viewpoints. At the core of the discourse lies the question: Is consciousness a prerequisite of intelligence, or can these two concepts exist independently? While one could write several books just on this topic, let us briefly look at three notable standpoints: René Descartes, an influential French philosopher, proposed dualism. This view asserts a clear line between the body and the mind. In this framework, consciousness is regarded as existing separately from the physical world, in a realm that is distinct from mere matter. Descartes thought of consciousness as the foundation of intelligence and rationality. Therefore, he would argue that consciousness is a prerequisite for intelligence.

Searle’s Chinese Room is intended to make us contemplate whether an AI system that merely appears intelligent should truly be considered intelligent. If the AI is, like the person in the Chinese Room, simply manipulating symbols without grasping any meaning, that does not suffice for intelligence. So, while Turing’s threshold for intelligence relies on observable behaviour, Searle’s threshold for intelligence requires a sense of understanding on the machine’s behalf.

In contrast to Descartes, Thomas Hobbes, another pioneering figure in philosophy,

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Many modern day AI systems operate as so-called “black boxes”. This means that they make decisions which they cannot explain in a way that would be comprehensible for humans. This opacity raises profound ethical concerns, especially when AI systems influence significant domains of our lives. For example, in Allegheny County, Pennsylvania, the Department of Human Services used a predictive algorithm aimed at projecting which children are most likely to become victims of abuse. If we want to use AI in such significant domains, we must ensure transparency.

Life-changing AI decisions could only be legitimate if they are open to public scrutiny, and if one can, for example, recognise algorithmic biases within the AI’s decision-making process.

was a defender of materialism.

Materialists argue that everything, including consciousness, emerges from physical processes. This viewpoint suggests that conscious experiences arise from the complex workings of the brain’s neural activities. In this context, intelligent behaviour could potentially manifest, even in the absence of conscious awareness, because it is the underlying physical processes that drive cognition.

Lastly, Daniel Dennett, a contemporary philosopher, and a functionalist, offers a unique approach to the relationship between consciousness and intelligence.

Functionalism focuses on the functions of mental processes rather than their underlying nature. What matters to philosophers like Dennett, is what role the mental states play in contributing to the larger cognitive system. In this context, consciousness and intelligence can be detached, suggesting that intelligent behaviour does not necessarily rely on consciousness.

The rapid ascent of AI is transforming our world and brings many opportunities that we once only dreamed of. Yet, as we navigate this ever-changing technological landscape, we are reminded that with great power comes great responsibility. As we reap the benefits of artificial intelligence we are facing a choice: to craft an AI landscape rooted in accountability and fairness, or to risk relinquishing control to the opacity of black boxes.

In navigating these philosophical paradigms, it is clear that no single perspective holds the ultimate key to the complex interplay between consciousness and intelligence. The diversity of viewpoints reflects the complexity of the human mind and the dynamic nature of our understanding of these concepts.

References Cole, D. (2004) “The Chinese Room Argument”, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Summer 2023 Edition), E.N. Zalta & U. Nodelman (eds.).

Ethical Implications: Transparency in AI decisions As the epistemological discourse unfolds, it crosses over into the ethical realm. The juxtaposition of Turing’s Test and Searle’s Chinese Room unveils a crucial ethical dimension in the development and deployment of AI: How do we ensure transparency and legitimacy in AI decisionmaking?

Searle, J. R. (1980) “Minds, brains, and programs,” Behavioral and Brain Sciences.

Cambridge University Press, 3(3), pp. 417– 424.

Turing, A.M. (1950) “Computing Machinery and Intelligence”. Mind, 59, pp. 433-460.

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Political Philosophy

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Is It Ever Moral to Lie in Political Life?

BY CAROLINA VLACHAKOU

One of the foundational moral teachings, engrained in us from childhood, is that it is morally wrong to lie. But is that still the case when in the pursuit of noble aims? This question lies at the intersection of moral and political philosophy.

Political ethicists study the values that underpin political decision-making, and analyze their moral implications (Thompson, 2013). A central debate in political ethics is whether there is a fundamental difference between the morals that govern politics and those dictating everyday life. Whilst thinkers like Machiavelli and Walzer advocate for a separation of political and everyday values, others such as Kant argue that the moral principles expected in daily life should equally apply to the political sphere.

and to make use of it or not according to necessity” (Machiavelli, 2004, XV). For Machiavelli, in conflict, a prince faces a choice: to follow the laws, the way of men; or to enact force, the way of beasts.

Recognizing the impracticality of strictly following the laws, the Machiavellian Prince must learn to fight both as a man and as a beast.

Machiavelli’s seminal work, The Prince (1532), offered a practical guide for successful leaders. In this work, the term ‘virtú’ transformed, shifting from Aristotle’s notion of ‘moral worth’ to one of effectiveness (O’Rourke, 2019). For Machiavelli, an effective leader must be prepared to commit whatever immoral action necessary to maintain his power. He writes: “It is necessary for a prince wishing to hold his own, to know how to do wrong,

Machiavelli’s philosophy is illuminated in the Discourses (1531), which complements The Prince as a guide for the successful organization of republics. For Machiavelli, the primary objective of a leader is to secure the glory of his state. This perspective leads him to morally justify actions such as Romulus’ murder of his own brother to secure his kingship, as

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Romulus possessed superior qualities for leading the Roman republic.

(Walzer, 1973, 168). He asserts that the nature of politics itself exempts it from the moral considerations that guide everyday life. There are three reasons why moral exceptions can be made in political life: moral isolation, compromise and extrication (Coady, 2018).

In the realm of leadership, dealing with individuals who may exploit one’s honesty and benevolence is a constant challenge leaders are always surrounded by duplicitous people. Machiavelli employs a striking metaphor, likening an effective prince to both a fox and a lion (Machiavelli,2004, XVIII). This image highlights that a successful leader must be both cunning and sly as well as strong and courageous. An idealistic politician who solely relies on the attributes of the lion is fated to ruin, and endangers the state, leaving it vulnerable to self-interested leaders. While an evil politician will lie and attempt to deceive the public in order to obtain likeness and support, the moral politician must lie and deceive the public to safeguard the citizens from falling into the evil politician’s trap. The fox-like qualities of cunning and strategic thinking become indispensable for a politician to outmaneuver adversaries, maintain power and protect the citizens’ interest.

Therefore, according to Machiavelli, lying is not only permissible, but necessary, for effective politicians.

First, politicians surrounded by corruption may at times have to lie to protect the greater good from this corrupt influence.

Second, the need to compromise in politics sometimes requires politicians to alter their positions, pretending to wholeheartedly support an action they may truly be extremely discontent with, to achieve outcomes. Third, in times of severe threat to the wider community, politicians may perform actions that would ordinarily be considered moral wrongdoings. An example of extrication can be seen in Barack Obama’s use of George W. Bush’s covert counterterrorism programs; the torture of terrorist suspects, and the use of drones to kill them outside of traditional battlefields (Zenko, 2016). For Walzer, politics is a uniquely ‘dirty’ sphere. A leader who is unwilling to get his hands dirty, fails to meet the obligations of his office, and cannot govern effectively.

American political theorist Michael Walzer further develops Machiavelli’s thought in his work Political Action: The Problem of Dirty Hands (1973), arguing that exceptions to moral principles can be justified in the pursuit of important political goals (Walzer, 1973, 161). Walzer contends that the morality of political actions cannot be based on religious morals or conventional moral standards

Kant, on the other hand, takes a staunch stance against lying for the greater good.

He firmly asserts that lying is inherently immoral and that politicians are bound by the same moral standards as ordinary citizens. In his work The Metaphysics of Morals (1797), Kant posits that lying contradicts the principles of human dignity which are rooted in inner freedom, and thus is always immoral. He identifies lying,

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Crimmins, James E. (2021) ‘Jeremy Bentham’, In E. N. Zalta (ed.) The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. 9th edn. Stanford: Metaphysics Research Lab.

avarice, and false humility as vices opposing the human character (Kant, 2017, 187). Kant extends this stance to politicians in Perpetual Peace (1795), distinguishing between a moral politician and a political moralist. A moral politician adheres to ethical principles in statesmanship, whereas a political moralist forms self-serving moral standards. Kant emphasises that political ethics cannot deviate from universal morality.

Consequently, lying lacks justification for anyone, including politicians, as Kant prioritises intent and goodwill over effectiveness. This highlights that Kant's notion of the greater good differs from conventional interpretations, emphasising morality over outcomes, and rendering lying incompatible with virtuous action.

IPPR (2021) Revealed trust in politicians at lowest level on record.

Machiavelli, N. (1983) Discourses on Livy.

Translated from Italian by Leslie J. Walker.

London: Penguin Classics.

Machiavelli, N. (2003) The Prince. Translated from Italian by George Bull. London: Penguin Classics.

O’Rourke, J. (2013) ‘Machiavelli’s The Prince: Still Relevant after All These Years’, BU Today, 6 February.

Pandya, S. (2016) ‘The Greater Good Theory (Utilitarianism)’, SCMS - Editorial Board, 20 December.

Sagarika, K. (2016) Machiavelli and When, If Ever, Should Evil Be Done for the Sake of Good?

Whilst recent opinion polls have shown declining voter trust in politicians and political institutions, philosophers have long made moral exceptions for political life. The problem seems to be that voters perceive politicians to be more Machiavellian than pragmatic in character, who they view as “out for themselves”, rather than leaders compelled to make difficult decisions in the interests of the public good (ippr, 2021). Whilst it is clear that political actors must sometimes be cunning, it is the ‘why’, not only the ‘what’, that determines the morality of lying.

Thompson, D. F. (2013) ‘Political Ethics’, International Encyclopedia of Ethics, 1 February.

Thompson, D. F. (1987) Political Ethics and Public Office. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

Zenko, M. (2016) ‘Obama’s embrace of drone strikes will be a lasting legacy’, The New York Times, 12 January.

Weber, M. (2009) ‘Politics as a Vocation’, From Max Weber. Translated from German by H. Hearth and C. Wright Mills. London: Routledge

References

Walzer, M. (1973) ‘Political Action: The Problem of Dirty Hands’, Philosophy & Public Affairs, 2(2), pp. 160–180.

Coady, C.A.J. (2018) ‘The Problem of Dirty Hands’, In E.N. Zalta (ed.) The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. 5th edn. Stanford: Metaphysics Research Lab.

Wilkes, J. (2022) ‘Operation Mincemeat: how a corpse duped Hitler’, History Extra, 14 April.

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The Impact of Social Media

BY OLUWASEYI EROGBOGBO

negative and critical perspective. One of the most common criticism of social media is its effect on the way people think. Social media is rife with misinformation, and even when there is beneficial content to be engaged with, engagement is often shallow and superficial. Important subjects are reduced to sharp one-liners, depriving the reader of depth, nuance and complexity. The effect, people often argue, is the dumbing down of public discourse.

In Discourse on the Origins of Inequality Among Men, Jean-Jacques Rousseau condemned socialisation as the cause of man’s depravity. The more we engage with society, Rousseau argues, the more we lose touch with ‘the self’, and with knowledge. In his assessment of socialisation, Rousseau distinguishes between two types of relationship one can have with the self; amour de soi and amour Propre. Whilst both can be translated as self-love, the former describes a self-love which allows one to follow their interests without harming others, and without the individual being the subject of other people's judgement. The latter, however, is better translated as ‘vanity’, in which the individual acts in a manner that seeks the affirmation and approval of society.

The dangers of misinterpretation are discussed in the Platonic dialogue Phaedrus. In this dialogue, Socrates narrates a conversation between two Egyptian gods Theuth and Thamus. Theuth believed that having written information would improve memory. Thamus, on the other hand, argues that written information would not only lead to forgetfulness, but also inhibit deeper reflection on ideas.

Although originally published in 1775, Rousseau’s ideas continue to hold significance today. In a world where over 56% of the entire population is able to maintain constant access to each other through social media, how has the modernisation of socialisation affected the population? Has growing up in an age in which one can communicate with billions of people at the touch of a button damaged intellectual engagement with political and philosophical ideas? Even more importantly, how has this media revolution affected young peoples’ relationship to the self?

Another anecdote that discusses the dissemination of knowledge is Plato’s Protagoras. Here Socrates discusses the sophist Protagoras’ teaching methods.

Protagoras insists he can teach virtue comprehensively and that his students will become more virtuous as a result. Socrates questions that if out of two students who received the same teaching, one student improved and another did not, could one say that they actually improved due to his teaching?

Socrates generally believed that teachings that relied directly on rhetoric and the

Popular debates on the effects of social media on young people often come from a

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written word were at great risk for misunderstanding and misinterpretation.

He favoured and in fact advocated for the use of critical examination when approaching information and believed strongly that questioning and dialogue encourage deeper thinking.

perceived or perceiving others, creating space for what Rousseau deemed as Amour Propre. The social comparison that can end up taking place on social media platforms can produce a disconnect between the public and private self, can stifle genuine self-expression. Despite providing connectivity, the disconnect between authenticity and presentation, can mean that one does not gain authentic connections through social media, as one's online community can be disconnected from oneself.

In the context of social media, social media platforms provide easy access to a wide range of information. They present an arena for learning about current events, ideologies and theories. Social media can transcend borders and create entire online communities dedicated to engagement with philosophical and political debate.

The negative impacts that social media has shown such as misinformation, polarisation and echo chambers can be contested through critical thinking and engaging thoughtfully with the content one consumes. Ruiz and Nilsson define echo chambers in news media and social media as an environment or ecosystem in which participants encounter beliefs that amplify or reinforce their pre-existing beliefs by communication and repetition inside a closed system and insulated from rebuttal. One can use social media to curate their feed and to seek out reputable sources and to find platforms with positive user dynamics which value depth of knowledge as well as accessibility. In doing so one can amplify the positive impacts of social media.

In order to mitigate these limitations, one can also refer to the context of Rousseau’s philosophies. One can practise mindful posting as well as mindful following, which can curate an online community which coincides with oneself authentically, limiting the disconnect between one's private and public self and creating a positive online environment. Additionally, mindful following can limit social comparisons further mitigating the negative impacts of social media on selfperception.

Although social media is a new phenomenon and people are socialising on a much larger scale than before, the problems that arise due to this are not new.

Throughout history, the dissemination of information has been discussed, as has the relationship to oneself.

In observing previous philosophical thought, one can see a strong likeness to the social condition then and now; and in observing the issues of the past one can additionally find solutions for today.

In his ‘Confessions’, Rousseau wrote, “the world of reality has its limits; the world of imagination is boundless”. In regards to social media’s impact on one's' understanding of and relationship to the self, there are several parallels between contemporary concerns over social media and the concerns Rousseau had regarding socialisation during the Enlightenment.

Many social media platforms have an emphasis on perception. When engaging with these platforms, one is always being

References Hughes, B. (2010) ‘Socrates – a Man for Our Times’, The Guardian, 17 October.

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Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. (2015) Les Confessions. France: Primento Digital Publishing.

Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. (2016) A Discourse on Inequality. New York: Philosophical Library/Open Road.

Plato. (2011) Phaedrus.

Cambridge University Press.

Cambridge:

DataReportal (2020) Digital 2020: Global Digital Overview.

Plato. (1992) Protagoras. Indianapolis: Hackett Pub. Co.

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When Prisons Don’t Work

BY THEODORE RADVANYI

Imprisonment is a common form of punishment for convicted criminals around the world. Guilty individuals are sentenced to time in government-operated facilities to be detained for up to a lifetime.

Rehabilitation and other forms of punishments have been in place around the world such as mandatory drug counselling, therapy, anger management, and community service work. An analysis of imprisonment as a punishment and tool of justice is called for when constructive and rehabilitative practices can serve similar purposes with a possible societal net benefit. This article asks the question: under what circumstances is imprisonment an ineffective punishment?

There is not a definitive punishment for all crimes. Imprisonment is common, but corporal punishment and rehabilitative approaches are also in practice around the world. In a retributive sense, if we seek proportionality for crimes, we would want to reflect the exact suffering that the perpetrator has caused upon the victim.

In this discussion we will examine and deconstruct the idea of imprisonment as punishment in retributive justice, which is committed to three principles: “(1) that those who commit certain kinds of wrongful acts, paradigmatically serious crimes, morally deserve to suffer a proportionate punishment;

The best way to do this would be to reflect the exact action, but for extreme crimes, this is often cruel and may not even work.

If a father were to kill another man’s son in cold blood, the wholly proportional punishment would be to reflect the same action upon the perpetrator: to kill the father’s son. Our idea of justice has now necessitated the killing of an innocent, thus violating our third principle. In crimes against individuals, terrible punitive outcomes would occur with wholly proportional punishments in cases of sex crimes and other violent crimes. The proportional punishment is unclear when crimes are committed against

(2) that it is intrinsically morally good— good without reference to any other goods that might arise—if some legitimate punisher gives them the punishment they deserve; and (3) that it is morally impermissible intentionally to punish the innocent or to inflict disproportionately large punishments on wrongdoers” (Walen and Dahan Katz) .

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organizations or more abstract crimes such as sedition. Fully proportional punishment can work for theft: to hold the individual accountable for all money stolen or value of things damaged is in practice as a lawsuit. So, we must abandon wholly proportional punishments for exceptionally terrible crimes, and instead, move to find a generically bad punishment to consider if we want to utilize retributive ideas.

instead of rehabilitative measures will do little to prevent crime because the possible benefit from crime was large enough to gamble on punishment, not that the prospective punishment was not severe enough. Punishing the uncaring means the punishment serves no disutility to the person, as they had resolved on committing a crime beforehand with full knowledge of the punishment (e.g., vigilantes, mass murderers). Opportunistic criminals have only committed the crime because they thought they could get away with it, that is, banking on the small negative expected utility (e.g., stealing a watch because its wearer is asleep). To effectively create a disincentive while preserving the principle one, punishing the uncaring and opportunistic criminals is sufficient. Using the same punishment for desperate criminals may further reduce expected utility of crimes, perhaps making some crimes no longer stochastically dominate non-crime, but it does not address underlying circumstances which make crime stochastically dominant (e.g., extreme poverty)

In considering substitute punishments, let us examine the purpose of criminal punishment as a whole. Alschuler suggests that punishment can serve three purposes: to act as a disincentive for prospective criminals, punishment serves to promote social solidarity, and to ensure vigilantism, lynchings, and blood feuds do not arise (Alschuler 2003). Let us analyze these purposes: 1. As a disincentive: If the fear of punishment is enough to stop a person from committing a crime, then we have no fear of their criminality. This is to say the punishment is a satisfactory disincentive because the expected value of a crime has a large enough negative utility from the possibility of punishment. Individuals who, despite punishment, commit the crime, must be punished to show the reality of punishment to those who can be scared by it to lower the expected utility of crime, and to satisfy principle one. A problem reveals itself when we look into those who would still commit a crime despite fear of punishment: they can be desperate, uncaring, or opportunistic. Punishing the desperate (those for whom the act of committing a crime whether caught or not stochastically dominates not committing that crime) is unfair, as there is a greater failure at play than the individual’s decision to commit the crime (e.g., begging on public transport in UK). When it comes to the desperate, using punitive measures

2. As an act of social solidarity: The enforcement of the law as punishment serves to promote moral and societal norms, condoning certain behaviours and promoting others in their place. Alschuler provides an example, if a man who would otherwise park his car legally moves to a neighbourhood where parking tickets are rarely given, his behaviour is likely to shift to park illegally. In the man’s old neighbourhood, people who park illegally are looked down upon, where here, one would be a fool not to park illegally. In terms of imprisonment, there are further questions. Rehabilitation as response to a crime is an admission of some societal failure, that another punishment would be ineffective at causing the criminal to cease the criminal behaviour, or that they are deserving of some help from the state.

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Rehabilitation abandons some of our retributive principles, that instead of punishing we help those who have committed “paradigmatically serious crimes”, and it is wrong for the judicial system (as a legitimate punisher) to not punish a given criminal. But when rehabilitation is something that exists in our justice system, every criminal we imprison signals that said criminal is beyond help, and must be removed from society to both protect us from them, and satisfy our moral duty to punish. If we have a criminal on our hands, we must consider rehabilitation as an option so as to not sentence a person who could have been helped to the label of “unsavable”.

retributivism fails as praxis. Imprisonment for desperate criminals is not a fitting punishment because it does nothing to reduce incidence of crimes they commit.

Rehabilitation as a punishment appears to be more effective because it would raise the stakes of the criminal’s lives- giving them more to lose from punishment, reducing expected utility from crime. Our punishment is to force the individuals, with guidance from the justice system, to improve (or ideally, solve) their underlying circumstances which made crime stochastically dominant.

For desperate criminals, there is no net benefit to society from their imprisonment. We avert the damage from their crime for the duration of their sentence, signaling they are beyond help for that duration. When criminals leave prison, they would be worse off even if they seek to reintegrate to society: employers do not seek to hire criminals, and social stigmas makes life as a convict challenging. For imprisonment to be a good punishment for society, there must be a net gain in terms of utility from imprisoning an individual: the damage to society in terms of utility that the criminal would cause in freedom must be greater than the cost of their imprisonment. In terms of cost considerations, RAND finds that in the United States, “for every $1 investment in prison education programs there is a $4-5 dollar reduction in incarceration costs during the first three years post-release of a prisoner” (RAND Corporation). Thus, we can gain utility from rehabilitating desperate criminals rather than solely imprisoning them. If we punish a high enough ratio of actually guilty uncaring and opportunistic criminals to those going unpunished, we can sufficiently establish the negative utility of crime while committing to rehabilitative practices. We must abandon parts of our retributive principles so we can use

3. Prevention of vigilantism, blood feuds, and lynchings: This purpose, if we are to conceptualize it as a criterion, is only satisfied if we see empirical reduction in the number of vigilante justice incidents, blood feuds, and lynchings. This is not a moral or philosophical purpose, and as such, I leave the truth of this purpose leave to an empirical study.

In retributive justice, we seek to satisfy our moral duties, but we cannot abandon practical considerations in stopping crime before it happens by disincentive.

Recidivism is one of the biggest problems retributive justice fails to address: if we do not solve underlying circumstances, people will return to crime. If we seek to reduce recidivism, the most important type of crime to address in this circumstance is desperate crimes. If, before the crime, committing said crime stochastically dominates non-crime, then the circumstances will be the same after prison. Therefore, we must address the circumstances under which committing crime is a better life. Punishment may satisfy the moral doctrines of retributivism, but will do nothing in terms of legitimate crime prevention. This is where

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imprisonment effectively. Prison can reduce expected value of commiting crime, however, effective prevention requires us to tackle the underlying causes of criminal behaviour.

References Alschuler, Albert W. (2003) ‘The Changing Purposes of Criminal Punishment: A Retrospective on the Past Century and Some Thoughts about the Next’, The University of Chicago Law Review, 70 (1), pp. 1-22.

RAND Corporation (n.d.) Correctional Education.

Walen, Alec. (2014) ‘Retributive Justice’, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, 18 June.

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