Even the most fortunate among us are no strangers to misery. In “Famine, Affluence and Morality”, Peter Singer sings an empathic ditty, throwing down the gauntlet for anyone better off than the worst off to give, and to keep giving till it (almost) hurts. While he uses the 1971 East Bengal famine as his ‘call to arms’, his arguments can be extended to any form of desperate need such as disaster-relief, extreme poverty, or any number of the miserable conditions afflicting our fellow men. His clarion call may sound a little too shrill for most in 1972 to stomach, but his arguments remain unfortunately relevant today, perhaps even more so, considering the desperation of refugees fleeing terrible conditions only to face unwelcoming host countries and the increased tempo of natural disasters such as tsunamis, earthquakes and volcano eruptions afflicting first and third world nations alike.
Singer begins by stating how people will tend to agree that suffering and death resulting from insufficient food, a lack of shelter and inadequate healthcare is a tragedy. He believes that “if it is in our power to prevent something bad from happening, without thereby sacrificing anything of comparable moral importance, we ought, morally, to do it.”[1]
His article argues persuasively for this moral principle. Most people would not hesitate to rescue a drowning child from a pond, at the expense of sullying their clothes or being late for work. It is a small price to pay, and is of little moral import compared with the death of that child. Having softened up his reader through this thoughtful example, Singer issues his main challenge: wherein lies the difference between that child and another far away that could likewise be rescued from certain death? Geographic proximity is of no relevance to his moral principle. Those who think otherwise is simply discriminating against someone because she is far away. Aid agencies even in the 1970s could already effectively reach the needy in distant lands as easily as those much nearer.[2]
For those still unconvinced to help the starving East Bengalis, Singer adds to his example a crowd of gawking bystanders who had not (yet) mounted a rescue. Singer says we remain on the hook to help: “numbers (do not) lessen obligation […] (and is not) an excuse for inactivity.”[3] According to Singer, we need to help, or in the case of financial aid, to give, as much as we can, since the masses cannot be depended upon to chip in. You can practically visualise his readers on the knife-edge, pleading with open wallets: ‘Sir, how much should we be contributing?’
Singer’s reply is enough to stop them in their tracks. He thinks one needs to give at least to the point when giving more would cause severe problems for oneself and one’s dependents – he considers this the “weak version” of his reply. The “strong version” is to stop giving when that gift of one more dollar would bring as much suffering to the benefactor as the suffering that would have been avoided for the beneficiary. Lest a potential donor think that she will at least have the pleasure of performing a charitable act, Singer denies her even that satisfaction. The act of giving is a duty, and not a supererogatory act of charity, he writes.[4]
Such a change of perspective makes a world of difference, according to Singer. The notion of charitable giving suggests that there is no obligation, and implies a generosity on the part of the giver. In case there is any doubt in his reader’s mind, Singer reinforces: “We ought to give the money away, and it is wrong not to do so.”[5] He acknowledges that this change in our moral conceptual scheme, which he considers limited, has radical implications. He foresees two objections.
Firstly, some will consider his suggested moral conceptual scheme too extreme since moral condemnation is usually dished out to those breaching moral norms, and not those who enjoy themselves instead of contributing to humanitarian causes. He dismisses this objection – what the current practice is is irrelevant to his normative argument. Secondly, if we accept his principle, “we ought, morally, to be working full time to relieve great suffering of the sort that occurs as a result of famine or other disasters.”[6] Most instances of simple pleasures, such as watching a funny movie or having a beer in a bar, will seem almost too exorbitant relative to the great suffering of those escaping famine or genocide. Hence, we would, in his scheme, need to refrain.
It is here that Singer takes a step too far. If we, the more fortunate, have to be deprived of even simple pleasures, perhaps with the picture of the suffering hordes plastered on our foreheads to continually remind us of our fortune, it might completely disincentivise us from working harder or doing well for ourselves, since we will be effectively paying a massive tax on the outcomes of our labour, which will go to feed, clothe, medicate and shelter the less fortunate. A balance must be struck. The weak version of Singer’s moral principle seems to be his concession: the givers are ‘permitted’ to stop when giving more would cause severe problems for themselves and those depending on them. He has kept what is severe open in this article, which seems wise, leaving it up to the giver to decide based on her pain tolerance.
Of Money and Mouths
Assuming that his readers have accepted his conclusions, Singer addresses further considerations such as whether foreign aid is in fact the responsibility of the state. Some may argue that “giving privately […] allows the government and the non-contributing members of society to escape their responsibilities.”[7] On the contrary, Singer suspects that if the people do not show interest by giving voluntarily, the government would think they do not wish their tax dollar to go to such causes. He calls out the hypocrisy of those who talk this way – most will take no further action such as lobbying the government on the matter. Recognising the importance of political action, Singer believes lobbying for new standards for public and private giving needs to be done.
He tackles another important objection: “unless there is effective population control, relieving famine merely postpones starvation.”[8] For advocates of this position, Singer has a ready solution consistent with his schema. They can simply divert their gifts towards organisations for population control, essentially putting their proverbial money where their mouths are.
Changing the world, one philosopher at a time
Singer is clear that even the actions required by the weak version of his principle will require a big change in the way we consume. The amount splurged on trifles will fall as more funds flow to helping the needy, potentially leading to a smaller Gross National Product (GNP) and hence a reduced level of contribution. Singer is unworried by such a prospect. Firstly, the current level of giving considered “acceptable”, approximately one percent of GNP, does not come close to the magnitude of change he is thinking of. Besides, this does not affect his more significant point concerning the individual duty to give to those in need. Secondly, he hints at how we can find the optimal level of giving such that it will maximise the contribution and GNP.[9]
In conclusion, Singer believes that this issue affects any person who has more wealth than required to stay afloat or who has the capacity to take political action. He exhorts his fellow philosophers to discuss the matter in their universities and to take action by sacrificing some of their consumeristic inclinations so as to give.[10] Singer has made a powerful case for why we must not shirk our duty. He is relentless in mowing down potential objections, through an almost irresistible logic.
He seem however to have failed to realise why people may be ready to dive into the muddy pond to save that drowning child, while ignoring the hordes of starving children in a distant land. Joseph Stalin has been credited with the insight that a death of one is a tragedy, while the death of millions is a statistic.[11] The sight of that flailing child evokes a primal response by all but the most callous of passerbys to plunge straight into the waters. The suffering of multitudes on the evening news elicits yawns from the very same people. Charities have long realised that compelling personal stories of their beneficiaries are the key to stir the heartstrings of a desensitised public. Singer however can leave such histrionics to the fund-raising arms of these charitable organisations. He has succeeded in a different way, by adding a sharp and powerful arrow to the quiver of the intelligentsia, to help them make an eloquent case to policymakers and private individuals alike, that we need to start giving more.
Bibliography
Singer, Peter. “Famine, Affluence, and Morality.” Philosophy & Public Affairs 1, no 3 (1972): pp. 229-43. http://www.jstor.org/stable/2265052.
[1] Peter Singer, “Famine, Affluence, and Morality,” Philosophy & Public Affairs 1, no 3 (1972): p. 231, http://www.jstor.org/stable/2265052.
[2] Ibid., pp. 231-32.
[3] Ibid., p. 233.
[4] Ibid., p. 235.
[5] Ibid.; my italics.
[6] Ibid., p. 238; my italics.
[7] Ibid., p. 239.
[8] Ibid., p. 240.
[9] Ibid., pp. 241-42.
[10] Ibid., pp. 242-43.
[11] Garson O’Toole, “A Single Death Is a Tragedy; a Million Deaths Is a Statistic", Quote Investigator, last modified May 21, 2010, https://quoteinvestigator.com/2010/05/21/death-statistic/.
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