NEWSBYALEX MELONAS

Is my death a harm to me? It is a profound question. If I were to die today (painlessly because suffering is bad), would I be harmed in some way? The case of nonhuman animal death is similarly profound. In the case of my death, we may not reason our way to the conclusion that dying is bad, but we do assume it. With nonhuman animals, however, we often make no such assumption.

Interestingly enough, people explicitly acknowledge a prima facie obligation not to cause the death of animals, presumably because that would be bad. Most accept the proposition that it is wrong to kill animals "unnecessarily." This means that killing an animal is only justified if it is "necessary" (whatever that means), and therefore we have a moral obligation not to kill the animal if it cannot be shown to be justified. However, on the specific proposition that the death of a nonhuman animal is a harm to the animal herself, many demur, instead focusing on the quality of life. This causes a dilemma for the "animal rights" advocate. If death isn't a harm to the animal for some reason, then it is limiting suffering leading up to that death, or quality of life, that we ought to be concerned about. This would mean that killing painlessly is ethically justified.

The arguments of Peter Singer, Gary Francione, and Tom Regan are going to help me think through this issue.

Note: This guest post by Alex is helping to make my day of departure from LA less crazed, so thanks go to him for submitting it. I'll be packing and traveling much of the day and unable to moderate much, so I ask in advance that commenters remain respectful of one another if buttons are pushed here. Edit: I just realized also that this is the second horse post in a row. That wasn't intentional; sorry for not spreading these out. -S. Ernst

Some time ago, I had an online encounter with several animal advocates committed to the theory of animal rights proffered by Gary Francione, a brilliant and influential proponent of ethical veganism. I accept many of Professor Francione's arguments. However, oftentimes, some of his enthusiasts over-commit themselves to certain conclusions that aren't necessarily founded in Francione's own reasoning. The following is an example.

Below, I'm using a hypothetical for clarity's sake. However, the aforementioned dispute involved the situation of a horse named Rivet, who was being used in a program designed to provide a therapeutic outlet for the mentally handicapped and the abused. Rivet was being used as such because of the exceedingly high costs associated with his care; he was effectively working for his living.

It is often said that "animal rights" isn't about adding something new to our ethical discourses, but about exposing some of the flaws in our own assumptions and really getting at what conclusions logically follow from the beliefs we already have. The unfortunately named "argument from marginal cases" (AMC) is revolutionary in this sense.

"Marginal cases" are human animals who lack the cognitive capacity necessary to reasonably be held accountable for their actions - to be judged morally culpable - but who are still considered members of the moral community nonetheless. Human babies, some mentally handicapped individuals, and the mentally deranged are examples.  

David Graham uses the following hypothetical debate to illustrate the strength of the AMC.

Most seem to believe that animals do have the right to live free of suffering. From Introduction to Animal Rights: Your Child or the Dog? by Gary Francione: "Two-thirds of Americans polled by the Associated Press agree with the following statement: ‘An animal's right to live free of suffering should be just as important as a [human being's] right to live free of suffering.'"

Suffering is, however, intrinsically related to having conscious experiences. A life free of suffering would seem to imply the absence of actually living. But we do generally hold the principle that suffering is impartially bad nonetheless, the suffering of nonhuman animals included. (Is making an animal suffer a good thing, categorically?)

The principle seems to become actionable by a practical qualification then. What we ought to be aiming for is the limiting or elimination of unnecessary suffering. I will draw heavily from Professor Gary Francione's argument to consider the implications of this position.

"Needless," "superfluous," "excessive," "uncalled for," "avoidable" - these are appropriate synonyms for "unnecessary" according to my English thesaurus. Perhaps we can clarify the meaning of this word by separating need from want/desire/fancy. I take "need" to denote a requirement - I need to drink water to live. "Want" seems to suggest that a feeling compels, or there is a preference - I need water, but I want orange juice.

-Continue after the jump-

As discussion surrounding the Iditarod once again amplifies in intensity, it is important to consider the annual practice by mulling over the defenses offered up in support of it. This seems uncontroversial. However, the antagonism often engendered by the dialogue seems to suggest just how controversial mere conversation can be. My intention here is to circumvent the anger by explicitly focusing on the varied justifications and their validity.

1. Tradition: "Yes, let's destroy our culture in exchange for a few dogs' lives. This race has strong cultural values and trying to be done with it because of a few dogs dying is pitiful."

Intuitively, we know that "tradition" doesn't follow, ethically. Sexism is deeply rooted in traditional mores and cultural values. Spousal rape is a particularly gruesome manifestation of this. Furthermore, normative judgments of the past must have their value tested in light of evolving ethical standards. If a practice or a cultural value offends current sensibilities, it ought to be modified or replaced. The racist cannot justify the oppression of black Americans by an appeal to what his father and father's father once did.

2. Their enjoyment: "If you saw the excitement that these dogs display every time their people take out the running harnesses you'd know better."

One common retort to the philosophy of animal rights tries to circumvent the logic by an appeal to what seems a priori to be correct. The line of reasoning runs as follows: If ethical veganism is adopted writ large, many billions of nonhuman animals will never exist because those institutional structures that currently function for the end of bringing these beings into the world will be systematically taken apart, as would the paradigm, speciesism, that grounds the justification for these processes. Therefore, ethical veganism has the facially paradoxical quality of being derived from a considered concern for animals (other than human) while seemingly aiming for the end of no longer having a world populated by these same beings. I would like to offer some remarks about this criticism.

Within animal rights discourses, rights are generally founded on interests. Therefore, it doesn't follow, logically, to defend the interests vis-à-vis "promoting rights" of beings that currently do not exist because the possession of interests presumes sentience, which in turn, is predicated on existence: X does not have an interest in existence - nor does she have a right to be born - because from her position of non-existence, there isn't a "she."

-Continue after the jump-

A frequent participant in conversations on this blog--and the author of many of his own thought-provoking posts at That Vegan Girl--Alex Melonas responds this afternoon to some of the arguments that have been made in recent comment threads. Read on. -SE
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Assumed or otherwise, the challenge to animal rights most commonly implied (but never defended) is "Animals aren't humans." In its simplicity and egoistic appeal, this argument is particularly persuasive. However, when considered for just a moment, this "defense," if it can even be called that, is as illogical and poorly reasoned as it is facially, at least, uncomplicated.

One might respond somewhat facetiously as a means to illuminate the naiveté of this critic.

What an insight: Nonhuman animals aren't human animals. By definition, human animals are not nonhuman animals. Also, by definition, human animals aren't computers, aliens, or coffee cups either.

The assumption that this "insight" is predicated upon, however, is utterly baseless: Human animals aren't animals.

Here is the clever trick used by anti-animal rights individuals to disguise their massive error here: they remove the "animal" from "human." For this to be valid, however, some premises are required--a refutation of Darwinian evolution, for example.

In the end, then, the circular nature of this kind of reasoning goes to refute the argument. "Animals aren't humans, so different rules apply." I respond, "Actually, humans are, in fact, animals; therefore, by your own logic, whatever rules apply on account of a being's animal-ness necessarily must apply to you and me as well."

As a matter of ethics, however, this argument doesn't follow. What is being implied is the moral validity of a particular kind of biologism (not to be confused with "biological determinism"). The reasoning runs as follows: the ethical worth (or lack thereof) of a being is measured by its membership or non-membership in a particular biological group. Species membership, then, is imbued with ethical content--the biological dividing line dictates the ethical conclusion: nonhuman animals exist outside of our moral reasoning on account of their nonhuman animal status.

Two questions are begged from the outset.

What are the two questions? Read more after the jump.