Ethical dilemma: Whose life is more valuable? - Rebecca L. Walker
Smallpox is one of the deadliest
diseases in history,
but fortunately, it’s been eradicated
for over 40 years.
However, samples of the virus
that causes smallpox still exist,
leading to concern that rogue actors
might try to weaponize it.
This is especially worrying
because older smallpox vaccines
can have serious side effects,
and modern antiviral drugs have never
been tested against this disease.
To protect against this potential threat,
the US government is funding research
to improve smallpox treatments
and vaccines.
And since it’s unethical to expose
people to a highly lethal virus,
labs are using humanity's closest
biological relatives as research subjects.
But is it right to harm these animals to
protect humanity from a potential threat?
Or should our closest relatives also be
protected against lethal experiments?
What would you do as a scientist faced
with this very real scenario?
In many ways, this dilemma isn't new.
Animals have been used in research aimed
at improving human welfare for centuries,
typically at the cost of their lives.
This practice reflects the widespread
belief that human lives are more valuable
than non-human lives.
People have different views about
the ethics of animal testing
and how it’s conducted.
But whatever your opinion,
this scenario raises an important
philosophical question:
how do we determine the value of a life,
whether human or non-human?
One tool philosophers have used
to consider this question is moral status.
Beings with moral status
should have their needs and interests
taken into consideration by those
making decisions that impact them.
Traditionally, moral status
has been seen as binary—
either a being’s interests matter
for their own sake, or they don’t.
And historically, many philosophers
believed that humans had moral status
and other animals didn’t.
Some contemporary philosophers
like Shelly Kagan
have argued that moral status
comes in degrees,
but even in this model, he argues
that people have the most moral status.
However, determining what grants any
degree of moral status can be difficult.
Enlightenment philosopher Immanuel Kant
thought humans have moral status
because of their rational nature
and ability to will their actions.
A binary conception of moral status then
suggests that beings with these capacities
are “persons” bearing full moral status,
while all other creatures are “things”
without moral status.
But thinkers like Christine Korsgaard
have argued a Kantian view
should include many non-human animals
because of how they value their own good.
Another line of argument, suggested
by utilitarianism’s founding father
Jeremy Bentham and elaborated
by Peter Singer,
claims that a capacity for suffering
makes an entity worthy
of moral consideration.
These inclusive ways of thinking about
moral status dramatically widen the scope
of our moral responsibility,
in ways some people might find unnerving.
So where do our monkeys stand?
Our closest genetic relatives have
high social and intellectual capacities.
They live cooperatively
in complex social groups
and recognize members
of their community as individuals.
They support and learn from one another—
there’s even evidence
they respond to inequality.
And of course,
they’re capable of suffering.
Yet despite all this,
it’s still generally common opinion
that a human’s life is more valuable
than a monkey’s.
And that while killing one human
to save five others is typically wrong,
killing one monkey to save five humans
is regrettable,
but morally acceptable.
Even morally required.
At some point, however,
this calculation starts to feel unstable.
Should we kill 100 monkeys
to save five people?
How about 10,000?
If moral status is binary and monkeys
don't have it, then theoretically,
any number of monkeys could be sacrificed
to save just one person.
But if moral status comes in degrees
and monkeys have any at all,
then at some point the balance will tip.
The situation you're in complicates
things even further.
Unlike the scenarios above,
there's no guarantee your work
will ever save human lives.
This is true of any animal experiment—
the process of scientific discovery only
sometimes leads to improved medical care.
But in your case,
it’s even trickier!
While the government is worried smallpox
might be weaponized,
if they’re wrong
the disease will remain eradicated,
and your research won’t save
anyone from smallpox.
You could try to quantify this uncertainty
to help make your decision.
But how do you determine what
an acceptable amount of risk is?
And what if there’s so much uncertainty
that your calculations
are essentially wild guesses?
These kinds of moral mathematics
get complicated fast,
and some philosophers would
argue they’re not even the best way
to make moral decisions.
But whatever you decide,
your choice should be well justified.
