What are our moral obligations with respect to suffering strangers in distant countries?
This essay will discuss our moral obligations to suffering strangers, assuming that “we” are members of a relatively developed nation. It will consider the implications of both alleviating suffering itself, and the particular requirement towards distant strangers. The concluding argument will be that, while often morally positive when it occurs, there is no particular moral imperative to alleviate suffering we haven’t caused.
To begin, the very nature of “suffering” must be understood. If the absolute form is used, according to Robert McNamara this means “a condition of life so characterised by malnutrition… as to be beneath any reasonable definition of human decency”. Many have argued that there is a moral obligation to solve this, as survival is a fundamental human right. However, even this seemingly obvious point has certain flaws. For example, if the poverty has been caused due to environmental factors rendering the area uninhabitable without continuous aid, helping the people may just be encouraging unsustainable practices. Arguably, the long term benefit would rest with not aiding such suffering, aiming to encourage populations towards areas more suitable to support life.
Writers on the topic of suffering are often concerned with the absolute suffering of death and destruction, but relative poverty must also be considered. By this measure, most of the world’s population is suffering, simply because it fares less well than the wealthiest among us. Some, such as Singer and Glover, have argued for global redistribution of wealth.
Concerning the results of our actions, Glover states that, if we do not give all money (other than that needed to survive) to charity, we may be allowing “more people to die and this would be like murder.” This concerns the ‘acts-omissions doctrine’, which refers to the practice of differentiating between what is done, and what is 'allowed’ to happen. Philosophers such as Glover see little difference between not giving the money needed to save a distant stranger, and killing them ourselves. This puts an untenable moral obligation upon every human, not just to strive to reduce the suffering we inflict, but to solve all suffering in our capacity to avert. Following this reasoning to its conclusion, presumably we should become mere vessels of moral desire, sacrificing life’s joys on the altar of alleviating the suffering of others. Indeed, it could well be argued that to be acquainted with the great pleasures possible in our society, and reject them all to concentrate on helping others, is a greater suffering than that of the original victims. Singer’s view on this is that “not aiding the poor is not to be condemned as murdering them,” but that it is “serious enough”; a rather ambiguous position.
In his essay “Famine, Affluence and Morality”, Singer states:
“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.”
This seems like a simple, and even intuitive, point to make. But its simplicity masks some fatal flaws. The main problem is that “comparable moral importance” is entirely subjective. How can the cases of a starving child receiving aid, or the “next Mozart” receiving musical tuition, be compared? Some subjects seem to rest in entirely separate moral spheres, requiring an incalculably complex utilitarianism to begin to evaluate them. Furthermore, Singer endorses the idea of giving to the point of one’s “marginal utility” , I.e. The situation where to give any more would make us suffer more than the recipients. This is an attempt at income redistribution, on a scale an order of magnitude larger than anything yet seen, to correct the perceived imbalance. However, this attacks certain useful concepts, such as “working for” and “earning” such benefits. To be blunt, Singer assumes the world should naturally be equal, with little explanation, other than a vague allusion to genetic equality, to justify his claim. I believe that intuition does not make a strong enough case for perfect equality, as the world abounds with enough reasons (e.g. Criminality, lack of effort) for it not to occur. Also, he makes no reference to the, albeit limited, positive side-effects of suffering, such as 'character creation’ and encouraging innovation.
In an essay on a similar subject, Raziel Abelson divided the problems with such extreme rationalist arguments into three useful categories. The first of these is the “uncertainty of benefits.” With no specialist training or understanding, simply going to an area of great suffering in the world and attempting to help may well be of dubious benefit. Becoming a rebel hostage or lion’s dinner would seem as likely an outcome as actually performing a quantifiable lessening of human poverty. Accepting this, we now understand our obligations to distant strangers in terms of monetary donations rather than personal effort. The charities donated to may reduce the problem of training, but not necessarily of effectiveness. It has been estimated that the direct, measurable benefits of wide-scale, poverty-relief aid are rather low, compared to the amounts actually given. In other words, for every £1 donated, a high proportion will often be siphoned for everything from Presidential villas and bureaucratic corruption to wars and ill-judged projects. Singer might argue that this is merely a reason to donate more, but I would encourage a reassessment of priorities towards smaller-scale, more targeted assistance. From the other side, if aid, particularly from governments, is being given to be politically savvy or alleviate post-colonial guilt, it may have little to do with any possible moral obligation to alleviate suffering.
Also, we can understand the needs and failings of those close to us far better than distant strangers, even with the help of aid organisations. Determining the causes of problems and delivering targeted solutions must be a part of any obligation, which is far more likely to occur in aid to friends or those in our societies. Furthermore, despite increasing globalisation and interconnectedness, it is still inefficient to favour investment in foreign, rather than your own, country. Moving certain resources encourages environmental damage, a tax on the next generations many ethicists find abhorrent, and takes time and effort, which may be better spent helping the needy closer to home. Aid organisations are an example of this, as they spend some of their donations on wages and bureaucracy, directly alleviating no suffering. Of course the riposte to this is that a dollar in a suffering society goes far further than in a decadent one. Moving a cow to Africa may be inefficient in the short-term, but despite the added costs it could well do more good in a needy environment. It is hard to tell whether the inefficiencies of resource movement, or the advantages of a more valuable currency, are the more powerful forces.
The second heading used by Aziel is the “indefiniteness of beneficiaries”, which is ignored by Singer and most utilitarians as irrelevant, under an impartial moral system. However, it is not necessarily meaningless. Concerning friendship itself, it can be argued that the formation of a relationship involves certain uncodified agreements, such as mutual assistance when either party is in need. D. Brink, among others, has argued that morality requires impartiality of judgement, which seems to invalidate a major pillar of friendship, or make it inherently immoral. Indeed, to ignore the pact of friendship in order to be impartial, or even favour the needs of strangers, could well be seen as an immoral shirking of previous responsibilities.
The final topic noted by Aziel to be important, but again dismissed by Singer , is the statistical “triviality of benefits”. For example, you could give £1000 (a not inconsiderable amount for most people) to help a billion suffering strangers. That would equate to one ten-thousandth of a pence, each. Even though it is said that moral obligation should not involve psychology, such numbers will almost inevitably encourage apathy and despair in some donors. Kant talked of humans being part of a “single moral community” , which might make such considerations indeed irrelevant. Perhaps we simply have a Kantian duty to try to help, whatever the scale of the task. However, even Kant acknowledged that a distinction can be made between a strict duty to 'not harm’ , and a meritorious possibility of aiding others. It would seem that, as long as we are not actively working to increase or even sustain suffering at its current levels, then we cannot be considered morally negligent to enjoy some of our earned materialism. The bone of contention here is, of course, that some of the worst poverty stricken areas, such as sub-Saharan Africa, are damaged in part due to previous 'Western’ actions. Whether this makes today’s generation culpable is unclear.
In conclusion, to follow the lead of negative utilitarianism, our main obligation to suffering strangers seems to be not causing any harm. To argue that we are obligated to actually reduce, or even remove, all human suffering, seems implausible and needlessly idealistic about human nature. Personal views on suffering cannot easily form a universal moral necessity.