Showing posts with label utilitarianism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label utilitarianism. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 2, 2019

The U.S. Government Spying on Americans: Was It Ethical?

In early June, 2013, while Barak Obama was the U.S. president, Americans learned of the U.S. Government’s domestic surveillance program, under which the Verizon Business Network Services subsidiary had been turning over call logs “on an ongoing daily basis” to the National Security Agency[1] The order, signed by a judge on the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court in April of that year, was "lawful,” U.S. Senator Dianne Feinstein contended.[2] The program analyzed time and number logs that did not include the calls’ content. According to U.S. Senator Chambliss, “All of these numbers are basically ferreted out by a computer, but if there’s a number that matches a [suspicious] number that has been dialed . . . , then that may be flagged. And they may or may not seek a court order to go further on that particular instance. But that’s the only time that this information is ever used in any kind of substantive way.”[3] Harry Reid, Majority Leader in the U.S. Senate at the time, added that the phone-data program had “worked to prevent” terrorist attacks.[4] Does it make any difference. ethically speaking, that the program had helped stop a domestic attack? Shortly after The Guardian broke the story on Verizon’s subsidiary serving corporate customers, The Wall Street Journal reported, “[T]he initiative also encompasses phone-call data” from AT&T and Sprint, as well as from Verizon itself (i.e., beyond its business subsidiary).[5] Does this revelation on the vast scale of the program make any difference ethically? Moreover, does a positive collective consequence--or the lack of a negative harm to the public good--justify forays into the privacy of a vast number of individuals? 
Not surprisingly, privacy advocates were alarmed at the sheer scope of the program. Kate Martin of the Center for National Security Studies, a civil liberties advocacy group, said that “absent some explanation I haven’t thought of, this looks like the largest assault on privacy since the N.S.A. wiretapped Americans in clear violation of the law” under the Bush administration.[6] Her statement raises the question of whether the fact that the Obama administration had confined itself to court orders makes the program ethical.
Whereas the content of the phone conversations, including the parties’ names, were said to be not included in the trove of data turned over to the government, internet companies had been providing the contents of emails, online chats, Facebook accounts, Skype video calls, and web searches to the government as per court orders (i.e., not through direct access).[7] Does the inclusion of content make any difference, ethically speaking? Applying a few ethical theories may get us closer to some answers. 

                        I. Utilitarianism

Utilitarianism maintains that conduct is ethical if it provides the greatest happiness for the greatest number of people. This can be in terms of pleasure over pain or benefits over costs. In terms of phone records, the question is whether the harm from attacks that are prevented by the program outweighs the harm from the loss of privacy. Put another way, do the benefits of prevented attacks exceed the costs in terms of privacy that is lost?
That at least one attack had already been prevented indicates that benefits do indeed exist—but for how many people (saved)? Furthermore, how grave would the attacks have been? Attacks can vary in their severity and breadth of harm. The reduction in the fear of a possible attack is also a benefit, and the program, once exposed, can be expected to have put that fear at ease, at least to some degree. That these factors require judgment means that different people are likely to come to different conclusions on a given issue.
On the harm or cost side, the number of people whose calls have been reported is relevant. Judgment again intrudes in the determination of the harm from the loss of privacy if the parties are not aware of it, and then if they are aware of it. That the contents of the calls are not reported suggests that the cost or harm may not exceed the program’s benefits, even though the data provided covers a great number of people. In other words, it is reasonable to conclude that the harm to them pales in comparison to the harm that would be unleashed by mass attacks were they not prevented by the program. In the twenty-first century, access to chemical weapons and nuclear bombs can translate into massive harm. Anyone having parents, a brother or sister, or a child living in a major city would likely judge that giving the government access to his or her phone log is worth the loss in privacy. In terms of utilitarianism, therefore, the phone-records government program can be regarded as ethical because it is consistent with the greatest net happiness for the greatest number. The pain prevented would likely have been severe, whereas, even though the phone-logs involve many more people, the costs in terms of loss of privacy are far less intense. In other words, saving legs and lives is a benefit so significant that the loss of some privacy of many more people would likely be less overall than the benefits overall. To be sure, weighing and relating benefits and costs both in terms of severity and the number of likely people involves considerable uncertainty. Utilitarianism is therefore often a matter of judgment rather than mathematical calculation. The value of the theory here may be in comparing the two programs.
For example, going on to the Prism program, it can be regarded as less ethical from a utilitarian standpoint because of the extent of content provided. The possibility of government “Nixonist” abuse is greater here. Further, it could be asked whether the sheer amount of content is necessary to prevent attacks. In other words, would more attacks in the works be prevented, and if so, would this increased benefit be worth the added cost in terms of privacy lost? Even though judgment again comes into play, the Prism program is likely less ethical than the phone-log program—perhaps even unethical.

            II. Kantianism

Kant argued that treating others as ends in themselves rather than only as a means is a duty owing to the value of rational nature, given that it assigns values to things. The people whose calls are being reported are in one sense being used, but it is also possible that they or their loved ones could be saved from being killed or wounded as a result of the program. The more people whose calls are being reported, the stronger is the case that they themselves are being protected, and thus treated not merely as means, but also as ends in themselves. That three major phone companies have been submitting the logs suggests that the people can be regarded as the point of the program, rather than only as the means. The program can thus be viewed as ethical in Kantian terms.
In regard to the Prism program, the inclusion of so much content makes it easier to argue that the people are being used. At the same time, that so much from the internet is included means that more people are included. The assertion that the people harmed are also those being protected is thus stronger. However, it is also true that a lower proportion of those whose data is being mined would likely be those saved from the prevented attacks. A person could feel uncomfortable knowing that government employees could be reading his or her emails and tweets as well as looking at his or her Facebook pictures even though it is unlikely that he or she, living in the woods in Idaho, would ever be a victim of a terrorist attack. Such a person would rightly feel used for the sake of others’ safety.
For the Prism program to be ethical under Kantian ethics, one would be on more solid ground asserting that “the People” are being used and protected. As a government policy oriented to the general welfare, the program may thus be ethical. Even so, particular individuals could claim that they are being used.  

                        III. Social Contract: Rights and Obligations

Even if people have not sat down in the state of nature to agree to a social contract as a basis for a society, the balance of rights and obligations can be understood in terms of a contract. The rights and obligations are both for the good of the people. The question for us regarding the phone program is whether the obligation to allow one’s calls to be noted and used secretly by a government agency would be viewed by actual or hypothetical contract negotiators as going too far in encroaching on the right to privacy. That is, the question is whether people in the state of nature would agree to giving up that right in exchange for being (or feeling) protected. Because the contents of the calls and the names of the callers are not part of the obligation, people in the state of nature could reasonably agree to it in exchange for feeling or actually being protected.
Regarding the Prism program, people devising a social contract would be less likely to agree to provide their emails, web-searches, blogs, tweets, and Facebook contents in exchange for feeling or being more secure in a society. From a social contract perspective, the Prism program can be regarded as unethical. This approach assumes that the right to privacy is created in the making of a social contract, rather than being a natural right. If the right is “hardwired” into human beings, we could not simply “trade it in” without an enduring psychological cost.

                        IV. Natural Rights

That privacy is typically subject to questions of how much it benefits us relative to how much the loss of privacy benefits society suggests that the right is not natural. However, when a person’s privacy is not respected, such as by someone demanding personal information, it is natural to react in anger—to have what Hume calls a sentiment of disapprobation. Hume claimed this emotional reaction is the moral judgment itself that some conduct is unethical. In other words, that we react rather instinctually to someone who presumes access to personal information or ignores personal space suggests that the right to privacy stems from a natural right built into being constituted as a human being. From this basis, both programs can be regarded as unethical—the Prism program being even more unethical than the phone program because of the additional contents being provided to the government.
That just suspecting that a stranger might be reading one’s personal email or seeing a personal photo from Facebook would make the typical person cringe suggests that something unethical is going on—that the person is being violated in a way that cannot be justified. As the news reports of the programs were being digested by the American people, a collective negative emotional reaction was palpable with such immediacy that it must have been natural, and thus triggered by the violation of a natural right. Even people who reasoned that security justifies the loss of privacy doubtlessly had the emotional reaction too. From this perspective, it can be predicted that the more privacy, or access to that which the person regards as person, is compromised, the more psychological harm to the person is incurred as a result. A person adopting the social-contract approach might agree to trade some privacy for security, but the natural right theory would stress the psychological cost and thus be much less inclined to “trade” the right.
In conclusion, whether or not the phone and Prism programs were unethical depends on not only judgment and which factors are included, but also the particular ethical theory being used. It is unlikely that a definite ethical “answer” can be obtained or even exists unless the breach of privacy was so grave (i.e., harmful to the individuals being spied on) that utilitarianism and natural rights would become inflamed. Even so, that the ethical theories analyzed above do not give the same answer suggests that at least some ethicists would still object. From my own analysis above, two factors strike me as decisive: how personal the information that being provided (and how much) is, and how useful a given amount of information is in preventing attacks. A trade-off is implied here, and it in turn is related to the long-standing trade-off between privacy and security, or, moreover, rights and related harms of individuals and the public good. Surely at some point, it becomes unethical to extract too much from certain individuals--especially if they are many--for the public good. Yet we should not be hoodwinked into thinking that all ethical theories speak with the same voice. This grayness can be expected to diminish as the harm increases. Also, the grayness may give way only on a gradual slippery slope, and thus not be detectable either by the general public. For example, when the Nazis invaded The Netherlands, Jews there were subject to a gradual tightening (i.e., adding) of restrictions--the purpose of the "bit by bit" approach was doubtless so the Jews would not raise an uproar, for who would for a slight change? Spying on citizens by the U.S. Government probably also increased by small iterations, each of which, on its own, could easily be justified in governmental circles. Herein lies a danger to liberty even in a democracy.  


1. Charlie Savage and Edward Wyatt, “U.S. Is Secretly Collecting Records of Verizon Calls,” The New York Times, June 5, 2013.

2. Charlie Savage and Edward Wyatt, “U.S. Maintains Vast Database of Phone Calls, Lawmakers Say,” The New York Times, June 5, 2013.
3. Ibid.
4. Siobhan Gorman, Evan Perez, and Janet Hook, “U.S. Collects Vast Data Trove,” The Wall Street Journal, June 7, 2013.
5. Ibid.
6. Charlie Savage and Edward Wyatt, “U.S. Is Secretly Collecting Records of Verizon Calls,” The New York Times, June 5, 2013.
7. Siobhan Gorman, Evan Perez, and Janet Hook, “U.S. Collects Vast Data Trove,” The Wall Street Journal, June 7, 2013.

Wednesday, January 24, 2018

Balancing Company Rights and Worker Security through Public Policy

It would be a cruel joke were an airline to keep the extendable corridor back as the plane’s front door is opened and passengers are pushed out. Not even having a safety net below would neither be sufficient nor fair. When a government gives companies the flexibility to fire workers without yet having in place vocational safety nets, said government acts negligently and perhaps even with partiality to one side of the labor-management duality. At the very least, the flexibility to fire should be held off until the matter of economic security is finalized.
With the largest automaker in the E.U. state of France announcing the firing of 1,300, the largest supermarket-chain in the state set to cut 2,500, and 200 at a major clothing retailer in January, 2018, companies were already “taking advantage of new rules that make it easier to hire and fire. But the other changes, those designed to help cushion the blow like retraining programs,” were not yet in place, “leaving workers vulnerable to a coming wave of downsizing” in a state whose unemployment rate had been “persistently stuck at more than 9 percent for more than a decade.”[1] The Times goes on to point out that “the initial imbalance between employer rights and workers’ protections means the economic picture could get worse before it gets better.”[2] This way of expressing the matter highlights the possibility that the government officials were biased in favor of the business lobby (and cash).
I submit that protections for citizens—providing a safety net even if only for workers in transition—is more important than employer rights (i.e., property rights) because even just risking sustenance is a greater harm than holding on for a while to old rigid rules on firings. The case of an impending bankruptcy may be different, as firing some employees could save the jobs of the majority.
In this analysis, I am drawing on Bentham’s utilitarian ethical theory, wherein the greatest good in terms of pleasure (less pain) is the criterion. Generally, a public policy that restricts the choices of a company’s management creates less pain than the corresponding pleasure (without pain of losing sustenance) for the workforce. Opening up the choices creates pleasure (and reduces pain) for managements and stockholders, but the pain of being unemployed is more. Even given Bentham’s claim that such pleasure and pain could be put in quantitative terms, the pain from losing the means of livelihood and possibly having to do without even on the basics (food, shelter, and medical care) is high indeed—so high that even comparing it to the pleasure obtained by the companies seems an injustice. This is not a justification for regulation or socialism (i.e., the state owns the means of production); rather, I submit that balance, such as in the timing of the public policies on firings and worker-security, is a ripe additive to Bentham’s theory.




[1] Liz Alderman, “Newfound Freedom . . . to Fire,” The New York Times, January 24, 2018.
[2]Ibid.

Monday, January 16, 2017

The Wealth of 8 People and 3.6 Billion People: Utilitarianism Applied

As of the end of 2016, eight people held as much wealth as the 3.6 billion people who make up the world’s poorest half. Just a year earlier, a similar study had “found that the world’s richest 62 people had as much wealth as the bottom half of the population.”[1] Part of the difference in these findings is due to new data gathered by Credit Suisse. Put another way, the richest of the rich were richer than had been thought. In this essay, I want to call attention to the sheer magnitude of the wealth involved, as it pertains to the richest.
Forbes’ 2016 list of billionaires has Bill Gates, the founder of Microsoft, with a net worth of $75 billion, followed by Amancio Gaona, the founder of Inditex, at $67 billion. Warren Buffett came in third with $60.8 billion.[2] I could go on, but these three figures are sufficient to raise the question of how much is enough. By the calculus of greed, which is the love of gain itself—as in more and more ad infinitum—this question can only be extrinsic. In terms of use, however, the question is ripe, for there is indeed a limit to how much a person can realistically consume.
In terms of declining marginal utility, wherein a person does not get as much pleasure out of the fourth or fifth ice-cream cone in a row as from the first, it takes a lot more money added to $67 billion to trigger pleasure than to $100. Add $1,000 to $100 and you have made the guy’s day, but add $1,000 to $67 billion and you might get a yawn. Pareto claimed that no such interpersonal comparisons of pleasure can be made, but I think Bentham was correct in making this point. Whereas Pareto relies on the valid point that pleasure itself is not quantifiable, Jeremy Bentham (whose 18th century mummified body absent his head sits in an open closet in a university-building’s hallway in London) stressed the declining marginal utility as it pertains to very different quantities of wealth.
Bentham, whose utilitarian ethics gives primacy to the greatest good (i.e., pleasure, which he viewed as happiness) for the greatest number of people. Distribution from the rich to the poor is in line with this ethic, given the fact that a poor person would get more pleasure, or utility, from $1000 than the pain of the rich man who is now without the $1000.
Even just the gigantic sums of accumulated wealth themselves, such as Warren Buffett’s $60.8 billion—holding aside the question of added utility/pleasure from adding more wealth to the base—are not efficient, so to speak, in terms of utility/pleasure. “In my entire lifetime,” Warren Buffett said, “everything that I’ve spent will be quite a bit less than 1 percent of everything I make. The other 99 percent plus will go to others because it has no utility to me. So it’s silly for me to not transfer that utility to people who can use it.”[3] Because other people could use the money to derive more pleasure/utility, there is indeed an opportunity cost in the rich holding such vast sums. In other words, the retention of billions of dollars does represent a harm in that people who could really use it are deprived of it.
Admittedly, Buffett’s invested funds have led to pleasure from added productive enterprise and even innovation. The assumption of added productive uses can be questioned, however, as presumably alternative means of raising capital exist. An enterprise strategically oriented to expanding could go to a bank, for example, were Buffett’s invested funds depleted by voluntary or involuntary redistribution. In fact, banks would presumably have more money to lend to the extent that people receiving the redistributed funds deposit some portion (even the added consumption would go to existing businesses, thus giving them more retained earnings to invest in expansion and innovation). Furthermore, Buffett could have redistributed some wealth to the poor in the form of stocks and bonds, which would give the poor more economic security given the dividends and bond payments are on a base of wealth. In general, such means of increasing productive enterprise and innovation would be more in line with the greatest good for the greatest number of people, given declining marginal utility.
To be sure, Bentham warns that if redistribution crosses a threshold, the rich will not be motivated to create more wealth by work or investing more funds. The total “pie” would thus decrease; other things equal, there would be less pleasure/utility all around. We humans react more to losing $1,000 than to gaining $1,000, Bentham points out. Additionally, a rich person may be emotionally agitated if he or she feels that the redistribution is unfair—even stealing. This is in spite of Buffett’s point that very little utility relative to billions of dollars accrues to a rich person. However, Buffett’s statement suggests that losing a lot of money to redistribution—admittedly voluntary in his case—need not trigger the pain of loss. Even considering such pain to exist and be material, it must surely be less than the pleasure on the other side of the redistribution, given declining marginal utility. In Buffett’s words, other people can get more use out of the funds, and this added pleasure (which was not in Buffett’s holding of the wealth) is more than any pain in losing the wealth (given the pleasure that Buffett would still have from even just 1 percent of his wealth!).
From another perspective, owning tens of billions of dollars can be deemed to be excessive in not being justified in terms of property-rights theory. I have in mind John Locke’s labor theory of wealth. A person gains a natural right of ownership by “mixing” his or her labor with the asset, such as land. If you till the ground and plant the corn, you have earned a property right, or exclusive claim, on that land and its corn. It would be unethical for other people to trespass and consume from the corn.
Applied to founders such as Gates, Gaona, and Buffett, the question is whether having wealth of tens of billions of dollars is proportioned to the labor (and even risk of loss) put into the respective foundings. This question pertains to executive compensation—are CEOs who are also founders paid inordinately because of their power and status in their respective organizations?—and to stock ownership—is there a public interest in limiting the amount of stock-value one person holds in a company?  The public interest, if one exists, would presumably borrow from the Bentham’s point that billions of poor people would get more pleasure, or utility, from the redistributed surpluses than all the pain (if any) inflicted on the richest of the rich from the loss of some of their stock-wealth. Given that only so much wealth can be consumed by any single person, there would presumably be more than enough wealth remaining such that the richest would not suffer.
In conclusion, sound theoretical reasons support the claim that the eight richest people in the world should not have as much wealth as 3.6 billion of the poorest. Just as it is difficult for the human mind to conceive of billions of people, the same applies to billions of monetary units. Accordingly, it is difficult to grasp the sheer vastness of the imbalance. From this basis alone, the inequality can be deemed problematic. As this point is itself in dispute—perhaps in part because some people simply hate government—I have not gone on to prescriptions on how the problem can or should be solved. In other words, just establishing that there is a problem is a task in need of theoretical justification and argumentation. My essay here is a flawed (e.g., too limited) attempt to fortify the position that the massive inequality of wealth is indeed a serious problem, ethically speaking. That is to say, the holding of such huge sums as I’ve cited above is not justified by the efforts expended to “get the ball rolling.”




[1] Gerry Mullany, “World’s 8 Richest Have as Much Wealth as Bottom Half of Global Population,” The New York Times, January 16, 2017.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Jonathan Stempel, “Gates Charity to Sell 60 Million Berkshire Shares, as Buffett Urged,” Reuters, January 18, 2017.