‘You don’t really need a just war theorist to shed light on Russia’s invasion of Ukraine.’ writes Helen Frowe in her contribution to Daily Nous’s feature ‘Philosophers On The Russian Attack On Ukraine’. Saba Bazargan-Forward also nods towards philosophy’s redundancy when he says ‘It might seem that the study of war ethics has little to add when it comes to morally evaluating Russia’s war in Ukraine.’ But philosophers aren’t the only ones looking on in horror and feeling useless. A scandalous atrocity is being carried out under our noses. But what can we do?
For many of us this sense of helplessness is combined with guilt. Just as when Afghanistan collapsed to the Taliban, my sense of horror and pity is accompanied by an uncomfortable awareness that this will probably not be at the front of my consciousness for long. My sympathy then felt a little shallow, as I knew my comfortable life would continue and Afghans would be in my thoughts less and less. Depending on how the invasion of Ukraine unfolds, the same will probably happen now. When the dust settles, the ‘solidarity’ many of us are enthusiastically displaying will be little more than a word. But, again, what can we do?
If philosophy can’t help us much, that may be no bad thing. The war in Ukraine is not a philosophical problem, so why should it have a philosophical solution? But what if philosophy actually made matters worse? I worry that the dominant moral philosophy of our times could do just that.
Utilitarianism is the view that the right actions are those which produce the best outcomes, bad actions those that produce bad ones. What counts as good and bad varies according to which variety of utilitarianism you subscribe to. It could be happiness, welfare, preference satisfaction, to name but the most common versions. Utilitarian philosophers are often subtle and ingenious thinkers, but the general utilitarian ethos which I think has become the default moral framework of the West is much cruder. Call it ‘folk utilitarianism’.
According to this folk utilitarianism, if there is no seriously challenging answer to the question ‘What harm will it do?’ there’s no reason not to do something. Similarly, unless you can show that an action will clearly do much good, there’s no reason to do it. In a complex world where most of the consequences of our actions are diffuse, this means we are obliged to do almost nothing and free to do almost anything. Giving £10 to charity won’t achieve much and nor will refusing to buy a Chinese electronic device do anything for the Uighurs.
I suspect that crude utilitarian calculations have contributed towards the tolerant attitudes democratic nations have had towards regimes in China, Russia, as well as Brazil, Hungary and Poland. The attitude seems to be if you can’t change them, trade with them. At least it will lift everyone’s standard of living. Even brazen violations of basic rights like the persecution of the Uighurs and the annexation of Crimea were brushed off. It took something as extreme and the unprovoked as full-scale invasion of Ukraine to wake up the West.
The folk utilitarian response to the invasion of Ukraine would probably be that the resistance is heroic but it is only pushing Russia to greater barbarity. The utilitarian calculus would add up the lives lost, hearts broken and cities destroyed and conclude fighting isn’t worth the price. To the obvious objection that not taking a stand now will only lead to more aggression in the future, the answer is that maybe Russia’s opponents should now take steps to prevent further wars, but they have left it too late this time. For the greatest good of the greatest number, Ukraine should be allowed to fall into Putin’s hands.
As for us citizens of (not too) distant countries, the folk utilitarian approach tells us we can’t do much either. Donate a bit of money if you can but apart from that, don’t kid yourself going on a demonstration or writing to your MP will make a jot of difference.
Fortunately, moral philosophy also has more than folk utilitarianism to draw on. The best utilitarians consider less tangible consequences such as our own integrity, the promotion of values of decent, and the solidarity between people. And utilitarians are of course right that we should think about the consequences of our actions.
Ethics of duty, such as Kant’s, ask us to consider what would happen if everyone behaved as we did, albeit in fancier language. A world in which people shrugged their shoulders at gratuitous and brutal invasions of sovereign states would be one which would soon be ruled by tyrants. Even if the immediate consequences of a response is painful, there must be one.
Confucian role ethics would ask us what we should all do, taking account of our different relations to the situation. Such an ethic would make us accept that we do not have the same responsibilities as those in Ukraine, or with family there. But it would surely tell us we have some responsibilities, not least to take in refugees with hospitality and to stop trading with Russia, even if that leaves our homes under-heated and cars unused.
Aristotelian virtue ethics would focus on what kind of people we want to be. I think if anyone pondered this, they would not want to be someone who reacted to suffering with indifference and was not prepared to undergo any inconvenience to relieve it.
All these approaches can help only because they direct our attention to ethically significant features of our situation and our responses to it. That means they help best when we do not simply choose one moral philosophy and ‘apply’ it. Indeed, we don’t need moral theory to pay this kind of close ethical attention. All we need, I think, is a conscience, the desire to do the right thing, and as much understanding of the reality of what is going on as possible.
When I think about how to react to what is going on, I try not to get too dismayed at the thought that nothing I can do will now stop a bloody and brutal defeat of an entire nation. To believe otherwise would be hubristic. Still, if I want to be a decent citizen, there are things I can and should do. Most obviously, I should donate to charities working to relieve the suffering, many of whose workers are risking their lives. (See below for how you can do this and get a signed book at the same time. Virtue is not always its own and only reward.)
There is at least one more thing we can do. Early in the war I was cynical about the willingness of our political leaders to take steps that would cause hardship at home. Sure enough, sanctions were put in place, but energy was excluded. As a citizen, I wanted to signal to my leaders that I, and others like me, were prepared to undergo some hardship if that is what it took. I would rather have energy and food rationing that prop up the Kremlin. So I started an official UK parliament petition which obliges the government to respond if it gets enough signatures. (UK citizens, please do sign and share if you haven’t already.)
Several days later, the petition hasn’t (yet) taken off nearly enough to have an impact. From a utilitarian perspective, it is looking like a failure. But we should take such failures with humility, accepting we are highly fallible and often impotent. Morally speaking, we have to keep trying to do the right thing, something folk utilitarianism keeps whispering is pointless. Our best isn’t always good enough, but it is better than the only other alternative.
Bargain Book of the Week for Ukraine
Donate the cover price of any of my books to your preferred charity supporting victims of the war in Ukraine and I’ll sign and post the book you at my expense. Email with requests. I have most but not all. I’ll ask you to email me the receipt. If it gets vital food or medicine to just one person, it’ll be worth it.
New at JulianBaggini.com
The next online café philosophique for supporters is next Sunday, 13 March, at 8pm UK time. It’s an hour of philosophical conversation which you can take part in or just listen to. If you’d like to come and aren’t yet a supporter, sign up now.
The latest episode of the microphilosophy podcast is from another live discussion at St Georges Bristol, this time on anarchism. My guests are Ruth Kinna, who argues in her excellent The Government of No One that anarchism in various forms has made a series of challenging contributions to political thought rooted in a belief in freedom and working towards collective good without the interference of the state. Also joining me is Nathan Eisenstadt from Bristol University. If you used to subscribe to the podcast via Apple switch to this feed.
I wrote a short piece for the New Statesman on the deep Russian philosophical roots out of which the weed of Putin’s revanchist nationalism grows. If you’ve read How the World Thinks, you’ll recognise the themes.
I think I neglected to post the edition of the Seize the Moment podcast I appeared on last summer, talking about David Hume and living well. Sorry about that.
A reminder that if you buy books online, you can avoid tax-dodging giant and by through my affiliate shop which gives 10% to independent bookshops and 10% to me.
On my radar
The next Royal Institute of Philosophy London Lecture series talk I’m charing online is Lewis Gordon on Decolonising Philosophy. This has become a huge topic and Gordon has a lot of interesting things to say and I’ll be probing him in the discussion that follows, feeding in audience questions. Please do come along and ask yours. You can also watch all talks from the series on YouTube.
There’s a lot on Ukraine out there and I appreciate being pointed towards the exceptionally insightful ones. This Politico interview with former US security advisor Fiona Hill is sobering and clear-sighted. James Meek is similarly astute in his appearance on the LRB podcast. The FT Weekend had a very good piece by Mary Elise Sarotte filling in a lot of the recent historical background to the conflict.
Also in the FT, Simon Kuper obliquely has something to say in defence of enjoying our lives when so many are suffering. In short, we are only doing what we want those less fortunate to be able to do. ‘I hope we’ll keep drinking wine by lakesides. That may be the zenith of the whole human enterprise. Everyday European life is what most Ukrainians long for.’
I caught up with an eye-opening BBC World Service Forum podcast on ‘Sofya Kovalevskaya: The eventful life of a maths pioneer.’ It’s a terrific story of an incredible woman in a man’s world.
Less cerebrally, I’ve been enjoying one of my periodic Motörhead phases. I got their Ace of Spades album when I was 12, swiftly followed by the live No Sleep Till Hammersmith. I never bought another (apart from a compilation) because they are the kind of band who, if you have the best album or two, the others are just the same but not as good.
That’s it for this week. Until next time, if nothing prevents, thanks for your interest.