Category: Ethics

While a concealed weapon permit allows a person to carry a gun in many places, the campuses of public universities have generally been gun-free areas. The Republican rulers of my adopted state of Florida regularly debate whether to allow concealed carry on campus, while other states have already passed such laws.

Before Texas passed such a law, the faculty of the University of Houston met to discuss this issue and express concern about its impact. A slide from a faculty meeting about the law suggests that faculty “be careful in discussing sensitive topics”, “drop certain topics from your curriculum”, “not ‘go there’ if you sense anger”, “limit student access off hours, go to appointment-only office hours , and only meet ‘that student’ in controlled circumstances.”

What was striking about the slide is that the first three suggestions are identical to limits imposed by what detractors call “political correctness” and there are also similarities to recommendations about trigger warnings. This provides the grounds for the discussion to follow in which I consider limits of free speech and academic freedom.

One way to justify limiting academic freedom and free speech is to argue that students are entitled to a non-hostile learning environment in which diversity and difference are not only tolerated but respected. That is, students have a right to expect limits on the academic freedom and free speech of professors. This is often supported by a moral argument that appeals to the harms that would be suffered by the students if the freedoms of the professors were not suitable limited for their protection. For the good of the sensitive students, professors are supposed to accept such restrictions.

This sort of reasoning assumes that students would be harmed without such restrictions and that their right not to be harmed exceeds the imposition on the rights of the professors (and other students who might gain value from such subjects and discussions).

A similar sort of argument can be made in the case of concealed weapons. The reasoning is, presumably, that an armed student might be provoked to violence by what happens in class and thus hurt other students. As such, for the safety of students, restrictions should be accepted.

This reasoning assumes that armed students pose a threat and are easily provoked to violence, a factual matter that will be discussed later. It also assumes that the risk of harm to the students by a fellow student outweighs the rights of free expression and academic freedom (on the part of both professors and students).

Somewhat ironically, the attitude expressed in the slides suggests that there will be a hostile environment for gun owners which is something I have experienced. Being from rural Maine, I learned to shoot as soon as I could hold a gun and spent much of my youth hunting and fishing. While many colleagues do not take issue with this, I have run into some hostility towards guns and hunting over the years. I have had fellow professors say, “you are not stupid, so how can you like guns?” and “you seem like such a decent person, how could you have ever gone hunting” (sometimes said between bites of a burger). While being a gun owner is a matter of owning a gun, there are also cultures that include gun such as the one I grew up in. Hostility towards people because they belong to such a culture seems comparable to hostility towards other aspects of culture, like being hostile towards Muslims or towards men who elect to wear traditional female clothing.

It might be replied that gun culture is not worthy of the same tolerance as other cultures, which is, of course, what people who hate those other cultures say about them. It might also be argued that the intent is not to be intolerant towards people who have guns as part of their culture, but to protect students from the dangers presented by such irrational and violence prone people.

Another way to justify limiting academic freedom and free speech is on practical or pragmatic grounds. In the case of political sensitivity, professors might decide that it is not worth the hassle, the risk of lawsuits, the risk of trouble with administrators and the risk of becoming a news item. As such, the judgment to voluntarily restrict one’s freedom would be an assessment of the practical gains and harms, with the evaluation being that the pragmatic choice is to run a safe class. This, of course, assumes that the practical harm outweighs the practical benefits, an assessment that will certainly vary greatly depending on the circumstances.

The same justification can be used in the case of armed students. The idea is that professors might decide on purely pragmatic grounds that risking provoking an armed student is not worth it. This would not be a moral assessment, simply a pragmatic decision aimed at having a bullet free day in the classroom.  This, of course, assumes that a pragmatic assessment of the risk shows that the best practical choice is to focus on safety.

A final way to justify restricting academic freedom and freedom of expression is a moral argument that is based on potential harm to the professor. In the case of political sensitivity, there is concern about the damage that a professor can suffer if she is not careful to restrict her freedom. While such fear might be unfounded, it is real and certainly provides a moral foundation for self-censoring: the professor must restrict her freedom to avoid doing moral harm to herself. As with any such assessment, the risk of harm and the extent of the harm need to be considered.

In the case of guns, the worry is that a professor could cause herself harm by provoking gun violence on the part of a student. The moral foundation for self-censorship is the same as above: the professor must restrict her freedom to avoid doing moral harm to herself.

As is the case with career damage, a professor would need to consider the risk of provoking a student to gun violence and perhaps the moral choice would be to choose safety over the risk. This leads to the factual matter of the extent of the risk.

The fear expressed by some about concealed carry on campus seems to assume that it presents a significant risk to professors. However, it is not clear that this is the case. First, such laws only allow guns on campus. Threatening or shooting people remain illegal. If someone is willing to break the law regarding threatening or murder, presumably they would also be willing to break a law forbidding guns on campus. As such, there does not seem to be a significant increase in risk because of allowing concealed carry on campus.

 Second, campuses do not (in general) have security checks for guns. It would be one thing if the law disbanded existing security screening to enter campus as this would increase the risk of guns on campus. This law just allows law-abiding citizens to legally bring a gun on campus and has no effect on how easy or hard it is for someone to bring a gun on campus with the intent to commit violence. As such, campuses would be about as safe as ever.

It might be objected that a person will legally bring a gun to class or the professor’s office, be provoked to violence and act on this provocation only because she has a gun (and would not use her hands, a knife or a chair). Thus, the danger is great enough to warrant professors to self-censor.

One reply to this is to note that violence by students against professors is rare and allowing guns on campus would not seem to increase the violent tendencies of students. It could, of course, happen. But a student could also decide to run over a professor with a car and this possibility does not justify banning cars from campus. The fear that a student carrying a weapon legally will murder a professor after being provoked in class or in the office seems analogous to the fear that Muslim refugees will commit terrorists in the United States. While it could happen, the fear is overblown and does not seem to justify imposing restrictions. As such, while free expression combined with legal campus carry does entail a non-zero risk, the risk is so low that self-censorship seems unwarranted.

While all states allow concealed carry, most states forbid carrying guns on school grounds. Over the years, the Republican rulers of my adopted state of Florida have considered bills that would allow concealed carry on the campuses of the state’s public universities. Other states have already passed such laws. While there is the issue of whether this is a good idea, my focus is on professors who might refuse to allow guns in their classrooms and offices.

While I am not a lawyer, it is likely that professors lack the legal authority to impose such bans. Since I am not a lawyer, I will leave the legal matters to the experts. Instead, I will focus on the moral aspects of such bans.

One moral argument in favor of the professors is based on an assumption that they have the right to ban things they regard as morally offensive from their classrooms and offices. So, a professor who is morally opposed to guns could refuse to allow them. This is analogous to religious freedom arguments used to justify a business not providing coverage of contraception or denying services to same sex-couples. The idea in all these cases is that the moral interest of one person overrides that of another, thus justifying the rights of one person overriding that of another. In the case of guns, it is the right of the professor to teach and hold office hours in a gun-free environment that overrides the right of others to carry guns.

A reply to this argument, as can be used in the religious “freedom” cases, is that the right of the professor to restrict the right of students is not justified: their right to carry a weapon trumps the professor’s right to be in a weapon free zone. This would be somewhat like how the right of a same-sex couple to marry trumps the “right” of religious people to live in a country without same-sex marriage.

Another reply is to draw an analogy aimed at showing the absurdity of such a professorial ban. Imagine a professor who has a deep and abiding moral opposition to birth control and wants to ban them from her classroom and office. This includes birth control that is being “concealed” in the body (for example, a woman on the pill). While the professor cannot see it, she claims that its mere presence is morally intolerable to her.  But it would be absurd to claim that the professor has the right to ban the presence of birth control. A similar argument could be made with smart phones: a professor can forbid their use in class because they can be disruptive and be used to cheat, but they cannot refuse to allow students to have them. As such, professors do not seem to have the right to ban guns simply because they are morally offended by them.

A better moral argument is the safety argument: a professor could be concerned about people being shot (intentionally or accidentally). Some of my colleagues have claimed there would be a chilling effect if guns were allowed on campus: people might be afraid to discuss contentious issues out of fear of being shot. Some also considered that professors might be inclined to grade easier to avoid getting shot.

There are legitimate safety concerns about allowing guns on campus. However, there are two obvious points to consider. The first is that guns are already allowed in many places and people do not seem especially disinclined to engage in contentious discussions or to not do their jobs properly because someone might shoot them with a legally carried gun.  As such, unless campuses are simply special places, this concern does not warrant a special ban on campus carry. Put another away, if guns are allowed almost everywhere else, then without a relevant difference argument, they should be allowed on campuses. Secondly, as I point out to my colleagues, people can easily carry guns illegally on campus. If someone intends to kill a professor over a bad grade or a heated discussion (which has happened) they can just illegally bring a gun to campus to illegally shoot someone. In contrast with the prison style K-12 schools, college campuses are usually open places. A professor’s ban on guns would not provide a greater degree of safety, even if the professor was able to enforce such an almost certainly illegal ban.

Interesting, the state legislatures who pass concealed carry on campus laws almost always forbid people to bring guns to the legislature where they work. While this shows inconsistency, it does not show the law is wrong. It does, however, point towards a relevant difference argument: perhaps the campus is relevantly like the legislature. My view is that whatever arguments the state legislature advances for allowing guns on campus should also apply to carrying guns into the legislature. If they are worried they might be shot, then the same concern would apply to campuses and, one must think, everywhere else.

One stock argument against increasing taxes on the rich to address income inequality is a disincentive argument. The gist of the argument is that if taxes are raised on the rich, they will lose the incentive to invest, innovate, create jobs and so on.  Most importantly, in terms of income inequality, the consequences of this disincentive will have the greatest impact on those who are not rich. For example, it has been claimed that the job creators would create fewer jobs and pay lower wages if they were taxed more to address income inequality. As such, such a tax increase would be both harmful and self-defeating: the poor will be no better off than they were before (and perhaps even worse off). As such, there would seem to be good utilitarian moral grounds for not increasing taxes on the rich.

Naturally, there is the question of whether this disincentive effect is morally justifiable. If the rich retaliated from spite, then the moral argument would fall apart. While there would be negative consequences for such a tax increase, these consequences would be harms intentionally inflicted. In this scenario, not increasing taxes because of fear of retaliation would be morally equivalent to paying protection money so that criminals do not break things in one’s business or home. While there could be a practical reason to do this, the criminals would be acting immorally.

If the rich responded not from spite but because the tax increase was an unfair burden inflicted upon them, then the ethics of the situation would be different. To use an obvious analogy, if wealthy customers at a restaurant were forced to pay some of the bills for the poor customers, it would be hard to fault them for leaving smaller tips. While the matter of what counts as a fair tax is controversial, one approach would be to define unfairness in terms of the taxes cutting too much into what the person is entitled to based on their efforts, ability and productivity relative to what they owe the country. This seems reasonable in that it provides room for debate and does not beg any obvious questions (after all, the amount one owes one’s country could be nothing).

Interestingly, the fairness argument would also apply to workers in regard to their salary. When a worker produces value, the employer pays the worker some of that value and keeps some of it. What the employer keeps can be seen as analogous to the tax imposed by the state on the rich. As with the taxes on the rich, there is the question of what is fair to take from workers. Bringing in the disincentive argument, if it works to justify imposing only a fair tax on the rich, it will also do the same for the less rich. So, those who argue against raising taxes on the rich using the disincentive argument should also accept that workers should be paid in accord with the same principles used to judge how much income should be taken from the rich.

The obvious counter to this approach is to break the analogy between the two situations: this would involve showing that the rich differ from other people in relevant ways or that taking income by taxes is relevantly different from taking money from employees. The challenge is, of course, to show that the differences really are relevant.

Way back in 2016 Ammon Bundy and fellow “militia” members occupied the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge in Oregon as a protest of federal land use policies. Ammon Bundy is the son of Cliven Bundy, the rancher who was involved in another armed stand-off with the federal government. Cliven Bundy once owed the American taxpayers over $1 million for grazing his cattle on public land.  While the right usually condemns what they see as freeloading,  he became something of a hero for the right. While that itself is an interesting issue, my focus will be on discussing the ethics of protest through non-violent armed occupation.

Before getting to the main issue, I will anticipate some concerns about the discussion. First, I will not be addressing the merits of the 2016 Bundy protest. Bundy purported to be protesting against the tyranny of the federal government’s land-use policies. Some critics pointed out that Bundy benefitted from the federal government, something reminiscent of the infamous cry of “keep your government hands off my Medicare.” While the merit of the content of the protest is relevant to its moral status, my focus is on the general subject of occupation as a means of protest.

Second, I will not be addressing the criticism that if federal land were non-violently seized by people protesting Trump’s immigration policies, then the right’s response would be very different. While the subject of race and protest is important, it is not my focus here. I now turn to the matter of protesting via non-violent armed occupation.

The use of illegal occupation is an established means of protest in the United States and was used during the civil rights movement. But, of course, an appeal to tradition is a fallacy, the mere fact that something is well-established does not entail it is justified. As such, an argument is needed to morally justify occupation as a means of protest.

One argument for occupation as a means of protest is that protestors do not give up their rights simply because they are engaged in a protest. If they wish to engage in their protest where they would normally have the right to be, then it would seem to follow that they should be allowed to protest there.

 

One obvious reply to this argument is that people do not automatically have the right to engage in protest in all places they have a right to visit. For example, a public library is open to the public, but it does not follow that people thus have a right to occupy a public library and interfere with its operation. This is because the act of protest would violate the rights of others in a way that would seem to justify forbidding the protest.

People also protest in areas that are not normally open to the public or whose use by the public is restricted. This would include privately owned areas as well as public areas that have restrictions. In the case of the Bundy protest, public facilities are being occupied. However, Bundy and his fellows used the area in a way that would normally not be allowed. People cannot, in the normal course of things, just take up residence in public buildings. This can also be regarded as a conflict of rights, the right of protest versus the right of private ownership or public use.

These replies can be overcome by showing that the protest does more good than harm or by showing that the right to protest outweighs the rights of others to use the occupied area.  After all, forbidding protests simply because they might be inconvenient or annoy people would be absurd. However, accepting protests regardless of the imposition on others would also be absurd. Being a protestor does not grant a person special rights to violate the rights of others, so a protestor who engages in such behavior would be acting wrongly and the protest would thus be morally wrong. After all, if rights are accepted to justify a protest, then this provides a foundation for accepting the rights of those who would be imposed upon by it. If the protester who is protesting tyranny becomes a tyrant to others, then the protest loses its moral foundation.

This provides the theoretical framework for assessing whether the Bundy protest was morally acceptable or not: it is a matter of weighing the merit of the protest against the harm done to the rights of other citizens (especially those in the surrounding community). The same applies to other protests by occupation.

The above assumes a non-violent occupation like civil disobedience of the sort discussed by Thoreau. That is, non-violently breaking the rules (or law) in an act of disobedience intended to bring about change. This approach was also adopted by Gandhi and Dr. King. Bundy  added a new factor while the occupation began as peaceful, the “militia” on the site was well armed. They claimed the weapons were for self-defense, which indicates that the “militia” was willing to escalate from non-violent (but armed) to violent occupation in response to the alleged tyranny of the federal government. This leads to the matter of the ethics of armed resistance as a means of protest.

Modern political philosophy does provide justification of such resistance. John Locke, for example, emphasized the moral responsibilities of the state in regard to the good of the people. That is, he does not simply advocate obedience to whatever the laws happen to be but requires that the laws and the leaders prove worthy of obedience. Laws or leaders that are tyrannical are not to be obeyed but are to be defied and justly so. He provides the following definition of “tyranny”: “Tyranny is the exercise of power beyond right, which nobody can have a right to.  And this is making use of the power anyone has in his hands, not for the good of those who are under it, but for his own private separate advantage.” When the state is acting in a tyrannical manner, it can be justly resisted, at least on Locke’s view. As such, Bundy does have a clear theoretical justification for armed resistance. However, for this justification to be actual, it would need to be shown that federal land use policies are tyrannical to a degree that warrants the use of violence as a means of resistance.

Consistency does, of course, require that the framework be applied to all relevantly similar cases of protests, be they non-violent occupations or armed resistance.  Be they about land use or immigration policy.

The United States has settled into a post-shooting ritual. When a horrific shooting makes the news, many people offer some version of this prayer: “Oh God, let the shooter be one of them and not one of us.” Then people speculate about the identity of the shooter. In most cases the next step is that the Republicans offer thoughts and prayers while the Democratics talk about wanting to pass new gun control laws, if only they could win more elections. The final step is forgetting about that shooting when the next one occurs. My focus in this essay is on the speculation phase.

One of the most recent shootings is the attack on a Mormon church in Michigan which resulted in four people dying in the church and the attacker being killed by the police. As soon as the attack made the news, speculation began on the identity and motives of the shooter. Laura Loomer seemed to claim that the shooter was a Muslim acting as part of a broader plan while Donald J. Trump asserted that it appeared to be a targeted attack on Christians. And, of course, social media was awash with speculation. As this is being written, the suspect has been identified as 40-year-old Thomas Jacob Sanford. He is believed to be a military veteran and there is some evidence he held anti Mormon views. There is currently no evidence that he was Muslim. The investigation is ongoing, but the speculation continues.

In terms of why people speculate so quickly and without much (if any) evidence, there are various psychological reasons. I will leave those to the psychologists. There are also some practical reasons that connect to critical thinking, so I will briefly discuss those.

One practical reason to speculate immediately and even claim to know the identity and motives of the shooter is to generate clicks and hence income. One recent example of this is when 77 year old Michael Mallinson, a retired banker living in Toronto, was falsely claimed to be Charlie Kirk’s killer by an account pretending to be a Fox News outlet. Whoever was behind it also claimed he was a registered Democrat, which suggests they had some understanding of their targets. This example, and others like it, shows the importance of confirming a source as credible before accepting a claim. While one outlet might scoop a story, if it is credible, then other news outlets will run it as well and thus it is also wise to see if a claim is confirmed by other credible sources. There is, of course, the obvious problem that there has been a longstanding war against credible media outlets and that we are awash in misinformation and disinformation.  

While people can speculate in good faith (believing what they claim), there can be bad faith speculation intended to get an ideological narrative out there as soon as possible. This is because what is claimed first can often establish itself as plausible and then resist efforts to debunk it if it turns out to be false.

 Such false claims also provide others with “evidence” that they can use later when making their own false claims. For example, I regularly see people posting the false claim that many mass shooters are trans people, despite this being obviously untrue. As “evidence” people often post images of other posts making a false claim about a shooter’s identity. In some cases, people are acting in a form of good faith: they are being duped and wrongly think they are making true claims. For people who want to believe true things, a wise approach is to confirm whether a claim is true by seeking out multiple credible sources. But there is the obvious problem that people are often locked into ideological bubbles and what they see as credible sources are heavily biased or even dedicated spreaders of disinformation. There are also those who act in bad faith, posting claims about the identity and motives of shooters they know are false and using other untruths as “evidence” in order to advance their agenda, even if that is just to troll and trigger.

It is, of course, tempting to speculate about the identity and motives of shooters. While it might seem reasonable to draw inferences from such things as the target of the shooting, such speculation is still just speculation. For example, Trump speculated that the shooting might have been a targeted attack on Christians because the shooter attacked a church. As noted above, there is now some evidence that Trump was somewhat right: the attack might have been motivated by the shooters alleged dislike of Mormons. As this is being written, the religious beliefs of the shooter are unknown, but the United States does have a history of Christian Anti-Mormonism. When Mitt Romney was running for President, I (an Episcopalian) had to argue that Mormons are Christians. As such, any inferences about the shooter’s religious beliefs would be drawn from very thin evidence. The shooter could be a Christian who detested Mormons; but this is just speculation.

From a critical thinking and moral standpoint, the rational and ethical thing to do is to not speculate about a shooter’s identity and motives in public (such as posting on social media). Leave the investigation to the professionals and wait for adequate evidence to become available. This applies whether one is a pundit, a president or just a random person like me. People do, of course, have the right to speculate but rights should always be exercised with prudence and moral restraint.

The Martian is a science fiction film about the effort to rescue an astronaut from Mars. Matt Damon, who is often rescued in movies, plays “astrobotanist” Mark Watney. The discussion that follows contains some spoilers, so those who have yet to see the film might wish to stop reading now. Those who have seen the film might also wish to stop reading, albeit for different reasons.

At the start of the movie Watney is abandoned on Mars after the rest of his team believes he died during the emergency evacuation. The rest of the movie details his efforts at survival and the efforts of NASA and the Chinese space agency to save him.

After learning that Watney is not dead, NASA attempts to send a probe loaded with food to Mars. This effort fails, strewing rocket chunks and incinerated food. The next attempt involved resupplying the returning main space ship, the Hermes, using a Chinese rocket and sending it on a return trip to pick up Watney. This greatly extends the crew’s mission time. Using a ship that NASA already landed on Mars for a future mission, Watney blasts up into space and is dramatically rescued.

While this situation is science fiction, it does address a real moral concern about weighing the costs and risks of saving a life. While launch costs are probably cheaper in the fictional future of the movie, the lost resupply rocket and the successful Chinese resupply rocket presumably cost millions of dollars. The cached rocket Watney used was also presumably expensive. There is also the risk undertaken by the crew of Hermes.

Looked at from a utilitarian standpoint, a case can be made that the rescue was morally wrong. The argument for this is straightforward: for the “generic” utilitarian, the right action is the one that generates the greatest utility for the being that are morally relevant. While Watney is morally relevant, the fictional future of the film is presumably a world very similar to the real world. As such, there are presumably millions of people who are at risk of dying who could be saved by the expenditure of millions (or even billions) of dollars in resources.

Expending so many resources to save one person, Watney, would seem morally wrong: those resources could have been used to save many more people on earth and would thus have greater utility. As such, the right thing to do would have been to let Watney die, at least on utilitarian grounds.

There are many ways this argument can be countered on utilitarian grounds. One approach begins with how important Watney’s rescue became to the people of earth. The movie shows vast crowds concerned about Watney. Letting Watney die would make these people sad and angry, thus generating negative consequences. This rests on the psychological difference between abstract statistics about people dying (such many dying due to lacking proper medical care) and the possible death of someone who is now a celebrity. As such, the emotional investment of the crowds could be taken as imbuing Watney with greater moral significance than the many who could have been saved from death with the same monetary expenditure.

One obvious problem with this sort of view is that it makes moral worth dependent on fame and the feelings of others rather than on qualities intrinsic to the person. But, it could be replied, fame and the feelings of others do matter, at least when making a utilitarian calculation about consequences.

A second approach is to focus on the broader consequences: leaving Watney to die on Mars could have been damaging to the future of manned space exploration and humanity’s expansion into space. As such, while Watney himself is only a single person with only the moral value of one life, the consequences of not saving him would outweigh the consequences of not saving many others on earth. That is, Watney was not especially morally important as a person, but in terms of his greater role he has great significance. This would morally justify sacrificing the many (by not saving them) to save the one as an investment in future returns. This does raise various concerns about weighing actual people against future consequences but these are not unique to this situation.

There is also the meta-concern about the fact that Watney is played by Matt Damon and some contended that this would justify leaving Watney to die on Mars. But, I will leave this to the film critics to settle.

As this is being written, the story of the stalled escalator is making international news. The gist of the tale is that an escalator at the United Nations building came to a sudden stop just as Trump and the First Lady began their journey upwards. The UN claims that a White House videographer accidentally tripped a safety system, stopping the mechanism. Aside from Trump and Melania getting in some unexpected cardio, nothing happened. While this event might seem utterly insignificant, it provides an excellent and absurd example of the state of American politics.

Some on the right rushed to present a narrative of a sinister plot against Trump, suggesting that it was a deliberate attempt to harm Trump or perhaps even set him up for an assassination attempt. While Trump initially seemed to laugh off the escalator incident, he is now calling for arrests in the wake of what some in the media are calling “escalatorgate.” Fox News personality Jesse Watters jokingly (one hopes) suggested blowing up or gassing the U.N. in retaliation. While all this might strike rational people as nonsense, it is philosophically interesting in terms of critical thinking, epistemology and ethics. In this essay I’ll briefly look at some of these aspects.

In causal explanations it is usually wisest to follow the popular conception of Occam’s Razor and go with the simplest explanation. In the case of the escalator, the simplest explanation is the stated one: someone tripped a safety mechanism. If someone intended to harm the President, rigging an escalator would be both needlessly complicated and extremely unlikely to cause any meaningful harm. Times being what they are, I am obligated to state unequivocally that I condemn any efforts to harm the President or anyone else with escalator sabotage. But there are reasons why someone might claim something sinister occurred and other reasons why someone might believe it. I make this distinction because people can obviously make claims they do not believe.

While there are various psychological reasons why the claim might be made, there are some “good” practical reasons to claim a sinister plot. One is to create a distraction that will take attention from other topics, such as economic woes and the Epstein files. Trump and his allies have turned this into an international story, and I have been drawn in to do my part. However, my point is that this should not be an important story. The second is to energize the base with an “example” of how “they” are out to get Trump. The third is that it provides a pretense for Trump to go after the U.N.. But why would anyone believe that there is something sinister going on?

We humans tend to attribute human motivations or intentions to objects or natural phenomena and this gives rise to what we philosophers call the anthropomorphic fallacy. While Trump and his supporters are not making this mistake about the escalator, they could be committing a similar error: they are inferring without adequate evidence that an accidental event was caused by sinister intentions. This “reasoning” involves rejecting the accident explanation in favor of the sinister intention explanation based on psychological factors rather than evidence. That is, Trump and his supporters probably feel that there is a sinister conspiracy against him, so accidents and coincidences are explained in terms of this conspiracy because the explanation feels right. And if the conspiracy theory is questioned, the questioner is accused of being in on the conspiracy. Other accidents and coincidences are also offered as “evidence” that this specific accident or coincidence is part of the conspiracy. It might be objected that people really have tried to hurt Trump, such as occurred with the two failed assassinations attempts (that I also condemn). While those do serve as evidence that those two people wanted to harm Trump, they have no relevance to the escalator incident and evidence in support of the escalator conspiracy in particular would be needed.

Another reason why some people might believe this is based in the claim about the right that “every accusation is a confession.” While there are various ways to explain this, a plausible one in some cases is the false consensus effect cognitive bias. This occurs when people assume that their personal qualities, characteristics, beliefs, and actions are relatively widespread through the general population. People who might themselves think of sabotaging an escalator to harm someone they dislike would be inclined to believe other people think like them, just as a liar would tend to think other people are also dishonest. Times being what they are, I must clarify that I condemn using escalators to harm people and I am not accusing anyone on the right of planning to do this. This is but a hypothesis about why some people might believe the elevator was sabotaged. Lastly, I’ll take a brief look at an ethical issue of free expression.

As noted above, Jesse Watters joked about bombing the U.N. in retaliation for the escalator. As I am a consistent advocate of free expression, I believe he has the moral right to say this although it would be morally acceptable for him to face any relevant proportional moral consequences. Times being what they are, I must be clear that I do not condone any attempts to harm Watters or even firing him over this. But his remarks are another example of the apparent moral inconsistency of the right, with Brian Kilmeade’s assertion that we should consider executing mentally ill homeless people being the most extreme example to date. Kilmeade had to apologize but faced no meaningful consequences.

After the brutal murder of Charlie Kirk, many on the right rushed to punish those who spoke ill of Kirk, with Watters himself calling for Matthew Dowd to be fired. There was also the suspension of Jimmy Kimmel after alleged intimidation by Trump’s FCC. Less famous people have also been fired, with Vice President Vance urging people to report criticism of Kirk to get these critics fired. This is but one of many examples showing that folks on the right either do not believe in free expression or define the right of free expression as only allowing what they want to express and hear. While this is moral inconsistency, it can be an effective strategy since it allows them the pretense of ethics without the inconvenience of being ethical.

 

Cancer killed my dad this past May. When I heard Charlie Kirk had been killed, I understood what those who loved him must be feeling: a jagged emptiness that fills with pain and sadness. My dad and I spoke every week but now each Sunday I wait for a call that will never come. Charlie’s family is now waiting for a call that will never come and a father who will never return. But I have fifty-nine years of memories of my father.  Charlie’s kids were robbed of these memories to be; they will have but vague memory of him when they grow up. This is one of the many reasons I am saddened by any death; each of us is loved and death robs those who love us. To rejoice in death is to curse love, whether it is the death of Charlie Kirk or the slaying of people in a boat off the coast of Venezuela. I think people should remain silent rather than rejoice in death but will say more about this below.

After Kirk’s death, some rejoiced on the internet. Others condemned the murder but asserted Kirk was a terrible person. In response, the Trump administration and some state governments launched retaliation and intimidation campaigns. Vice President Vance (and fellow Buckeye philosopher) urged people to report Kirk’s critics to their employers to get them fired. Like most on the right, Vance once professed to be a champion of free speech and once said “We may disagree with your views, but we will fight to defend your right to offer it in the public square.”  Vance and others on the right also spent years condemning what they called “cancel culture.” Their recent actions help to further confirm that they are not champions of free speech and that they are enthusiastic about creating “cancel culture” when they are doing the cancelling.  

The latest efforts to suppress and punish expression are being made in Kirk’s name. This is ironic because Kirk has been lauded as a champion of free expression, with his supporters pointing out how he went to campuses to debate college students who disagreed with him. That this earned the hatred of Nick Fuentes and led to the Groyper War was certainly a point in his favor. His critics point out that he created a professor watchlist that results in death threats, harassment and efforts to get professors fired. Some might also contend that his motivation to debate college students was to get clips to use as propaganda and to recruit for his cause. To be fair and balanced, while many on the right clearly reject the right of free expression, there seem to be those who are true believers.

Attorney General Pam Bondi (who is from my adopted state of Florida) recently said the Justice Department “will absolutely target you, go after you, if you are targeting anyone with hate speech.” This led to pushback from a few people on the right, including Tucker Carlson. These critics embrace the idea of Kirk as a free-speech champion, asserting that he would have objected vehemently to Bondi. Those more cynical than I might claim that these right-wing critics of Bondi are worried that she might go after them. After all, the right wing is divided and there were credible reasons to believe that Kirk’s killer might have been to the right of Kirk, such as being a Groyper. That said, it is unlikely that Bondi really meant what she said. Otherwise, as some would point out, she would have to go after her boss. I agree with Carlson’s criticism of Bondi but what is my theory of free expression given my claim that people should not rejoice in deaths?

While I support free expression, I have the uncontroversial belief that there are some normative limits that should be followed. The weakest limit is that of etiquette. This is composed of the norms of politeness, such as what fork to use or how to address one’s professor. While this is a matter of convention (we make these up), it also forms some of the oil that greases the social wheels and plays an important role in keeping them running smoothly. They are also the way we show respect for one another. Following the norms of etiquette serve these practical purposes and we should be cautious of breaking them and consider the harm that might be done by doing so.

While the norms of etiquette are mere conventions that vary between people, most do accept that rejoicing in the death of another is impolite. As such, one should think before breaking that norm (if one accepts it). That said, etiquette (civility) can be weaponized to silence people by equating criticism with being uncivil. And people can make themselves unworthy of respect by being terrible people. But merely being rude is a minor offense and the consequences should be proportional to that offense. One can even argue that there should be no consequences at all.

I strive to be unfailingly polite even in the face of rudeness and provocation. One reason is a matter of principle in that I think that even terrible people deserve some basic respect simply for being people.  And everyone has bad days, so I give people the benefit of the doubt if they are rude to me. Another reason is that I learned that civility can be justly weaponized: remaining unfailingly polite unsettles some people when they are being rude or hateful, occasionally pushing them to reconsider their words or actions.

A much stronger realm of norms is that of ethics, although there are many thinkers who argue for moral nihilism, subjectivism, or relativism. As a practical matter, I usually follow J.S. Mill’s principle of harm when it comes to the ethics of expression and ask whether the expression would cause meaningful harm. The usual example of immoral expression is, of course, yelling “fire” in a theater when there is no fire and causing a panic. But there are obviously degrees of harm, and specific cases can be debated. For example, saying mean things about a person could cause them discomfort, but this would create far less harm then doxxing them on social media and calling for them to be fired.

Because I accept objective morality, my expression is governed by principles: I consider what harm I might cause to others and restrict my expression accordingly. This is, obviously, how I regulate all my actions. Or try to. Being a philosopher, I recognize that there are many other views of ethics that differ from my own and I am wary of imposing my ethics on others. That said, the principle of harm seems to be a good general guide about what a person should say. In the case of death, rejoicing in the death of another seems to be morally wrong because of the harm it can do to others and, perhaps, one’s own character. As such, I do not rejoice in the death of others even when I think they were wicked or even deserved their fate. Because of this, I think people (morally) should not express joy in the death of others. But they should be allowed to do so, because the harm caused does not rise to the level that requires significant consequences. The times being what they are, I must make it clear that I condemn the murder of Kirk and would prefer a better world without as much murder. 

It could be argued that such an expression shows bad character and would, morally, justify firing a person. But this would require adequate proof of bad character that would be relevant to their occupation. This would involve extensive evidence of egregious and consistent wickedness relevant to their profession. Social media is a trap for people: it creates in us the feeling that we must respond instantly in the hopes of getting attention and enables us to do so in a public manner. As such, we often get to see the worst thing a person might ever say but would not say if they reflected on it. Because of this, firing someone because of a single post would almost never be justified. We have all thought awful things that are not who we really are, and we should forgive each other for those moments, even if we say them out loud. Naturally, if there is adequate evidence of persistent and egregious wickedness relevant to a person’s job, then firing them could be morally justified. For example, if a leader persistently expressed their lack of concern about war crimes, then they should be fired.  But this principle should (morally) be applied consistently. But morality is distinct from law.

The third, and usually the most consequential, normative area is the law. While the law is, like etiquette, just made up, it has serious consequences ranging from fines to death. The United States government is, of course, supposed to be limited by the 1st Amendment. While the text of the amendment is clear, it does allow for debate about what is and is not protected and it obviously depends on the whims of those in power.  But from a moral standpoint, this right should be respected, and the state should only use its coercive power in accord with the amendment. As such, people should not be subject to the coercive power 0f the state merely for expressing views the rulers dislike, even if they express approval of Kirk’s murder.

It is also worth pointing out that the amendment is a right against the state alone. It does not apply to private entities like employers. As such, an employer could fire someone at any time in response to (or retaliation against) something they said on social media. Even employers who have professed a love of free speech can and will fire people. People often mistakenly believe that they have a general legal right to free expression but some learn that our employers have more power over us than the state in terms of what we are allowed to express. So, a business can legally fire someone for posting they were glad Kirk was murdered. They could also fire someone for expressing their sadness at Kirk’s death, although that would obviously strike most people as an odd thing to do. As I argued back when “the left” was cancelling people and getting them fired, employers should (morally) only fire people if their offense merits doing so. This is based on the principle that the punishment for an offense should be proportional to the offense. For most people being fired would be devastating. Which is, one might suspect, why many free speech warriors on the right are enthusiastically embracing cancel culture to intimidate and harm those whose views they disagree with. They are warriors against free speech, not for it. 

For years, the right passed anti-choice laws in the hope they would end up in the Supreme Court and lead to the overturning of Roe v Wade. They finally succeeded and anti-abortion groups claimed a major victory over the will of the people.  

While purporting to be motivated by pro-life (or at least anti-death) principles, these laws and bills are fundamentally misogynistic. They have three fundamental functions. The first is to appease a key portion of the base.

Second, couched in pro-life language, these laws provide excellent dog whistles for misogynists. The male misogynists generally understand that the message being sent to them is: “Your baby in her body. Her body in your kitchen. Making you a sandwich to put in your body.” More generally, the laws say to the misogynists in the base “we are misogynists like you, and we will put women in their proper place.”  Naturally, to make these claims is to seem crazy in the eyes of the “normies.”

Third, the laws  codify misogyny by harming women. To be fair, I can add a fourth reason that brings in the Democrats: the abortion debate was something of a battlefield of deceit in which the Republicans falsely claim to be pro-life (or at least anti-death) and the mainstream Democrats agreed to fight the battle on this assumption. The Democrats rhetoric is that they are pro-choice and the mainstream never seems inclined to get into a substantial and complex fight over the core ethical and political issues. That is, of course, broadly true across   mainstream politics: politicians mouthing their fighting words while keeping the status quo stable and themselves in power. But it could be objected that I am mischaracterizing things.

One objection is that while some misogynists might support these laws, proponents of anti-abortion laws, such as Alabama governor Kay Ivey, claim their  motivation is to protect life. As the governor said, “to the bill’s many supporters, this legislation stands as a powerful testament to Alabamians’ deeply held belief that every life is precious and that every life is a sacred gift from God.” But this is a bad faith claim.

Given the professed view that Alabamans regard life as a precious, sacred gift, one should be shocked to learn that Alabama is terrible in terms of maternal and infant health. Alabama is tied for 4th worst in the United States, with 7.4 deaths per 1,000 live births. While it might be argued that this is due to factors beyond their control, there is a consistent correlation between strong anti-abortion laws and poor maternal and infant health. While correlation is not causation, the reason for this correlation is clear: the state governments that enact the strictest anti-abortion laws also show, via public policies, the least concern for maternal and infant health. Texas, as should surprise no one, also has a high maternal mortality rate. While not nearly as bad as Texas and Alabama, Florida also has a high maternal (and infant) mortality rate. 

This is inconsistent with the professed principle that life is a precious, sacred gift. It is also inconsistent with the professed motivation for anti-abortion laws: to protect the life of children. It is, however, consistent with the hypothesis that anti-abortion laws are largely motivated by misogynistic principles. After all, if legislators pass anti-abortion laws because of hostility towards women’s reproductive freedom and wellbeing, then one would also expect them to neglect maternal and infant health in their other policies. On the face of it, this is the better explanation.

Another objection is that the laws are aimed at reducing the number of abortions and this is not misogynistic. Again, it just so happens that it impacts women. The easy and obvious reply is that the most effective way to reduce abortions is to reduce the need for them. Improved sex education and easy and free access to birth control reduces unwanted pregnancies. One might assert that anti-abortion folks also tend to oppose sex ed and birth control; but these are also usually misogynistic positions as well. Defending misogyny with more misogyny is hardly a good defense against an accusation of misogyny.

For those who oppose sex-ed and birth control without being misogynists, one can argue for using social programs to provide women and girls with adequate resources to complete a pregnancy and raise the child. But, as is well known, the anti-abortion folks tend to be savage opponents of programs that help mothers and children. If they were so devoted to life that they think the state should use its coercive power to take control over  women, then they should be on board with providing basic state support to enable more women to choose to complete their pregnancy. But the easy and obvious explanation is that the pro-life claims are bad faith assertions; they are not pro-life but are misogynists.

A final objection is to point to women who support anti-abortion laws. Surely, one might say, women would not support misogynist laws. And, of course, men involved with the laws can point out that they have a mother and some of their best friends are women. So how can they be misogynists?

In some cases, women support such laws from ignorance. That is, they accept the bad faith reasons and think that they are supporting the protection of life, not realizing the misogynist consequences of the laws. Interestingly, women on the right are sometimes shocked that the right is misogynistic. They apparently fail to grasp that racism and sexism are the peanut butter and chocolate of the right. In other cases, they might be aware that the laws are advanced in bad faith but agree with the stated goal of restricting abortion. So, they go along with the misogyny because it gets them something they want.

 A third possibility is that a woman is herself a misogynist—while this might sound odd, it can happen. Finally, a woman might be an opportunist rather than ignorant or a misogynist—she has calculated that she will gain more as an individual by backing misogyny than she will lose as a woman. So, for example, a female judge or politician might recognize that the right is fundamentally misogynistic but decide that she gains a personal advantage by joining them. Just as the folks on the right desire a few minorities to provide them with a “black friend” as a shield against accusations of racism, they also want a few women to provide them with a shield against accusations of sexism.

Somewhat ironically, the powerful women on the right represent something radical that undermines the right: they hold these positions of power because of the past battles fought by the left.  Also, capable women in power give lie to the misogyny of the right (and left).  Not so long ago, the right (and left) was openly misogynistic; but this has changed and there is a strong reaction to this shift. It is, of course, ironic that the women who occupy their positions of power due to the fight against misogyny are fighting so hard to roll back the clock for women in general. Perhaps they think that they will retire before the clock is rolled back. Perhaps they are unaware of the consequences of what they are fighting for. Or perhaps they sincerely believe that they should not have been allowed to be where they chose to be and that future women should not be allowed this choice. Or perhaps they know that they will remain the exception to the oppression they wish to impose on other women.

It might be wondered why anyone would bother making the arguments I have made. After all, the right and their supporters are either already aware of the misogynistic purpose of the laws or will not believe me. But there seems to be some value in attempting to reveal that the right’s arguments are in bad faith. There is a slight chance that some people might change their minds about supporting such bad faith laws.

It also seems desirable to try to reveal the bad faith on the right. For example, when they engage in their bad faith arguments and rhetoric about protecting life, that would be the ideal time to call them out on their lack of support (and opposition) to laws that do protect children. These include regulating pollutants that kill children, providing stronger social support for children, ensuring clean water and adequate food for children, providing quality education for children, ensuring quality health care for children, and so on for so many things the “pro-life” right fights. Whenever a right-wing politician proposes a “pro-life” bill, the left should immediately try to add real pro-life components, such as funding for maternal care and the health of children. When a “pro-life” governor is professing their love of life, they should be asked about the infant and maternal mortality rates in their state. And so on.

In a clever bit of rhetoric, people who opposed mask and vaccine mandates during the last pandemic used pro-choice terms. For example, a person opposed to getting vaccinated might say “my body, my choice.” This phrase is, of course, a standard part of pro-choice language. While some who did this were no doubt engaged in bad faith rhetoric or trolling, the analogy between abortion rights and the right to refuse vaccination is worth considering.

An argument by analogy will typically have two premises and a conclusion. The first premise establishes the analogy by showing that the things (X and Y) in question are similar in certain respects (properties P, Q, R, etc.).  The second premise establishes that X has an additional quality, Z. The conclusion asserts that Y has property or feature Z as well. The form of the argument looks like this:

 

           Premise 1: X and Y have properties P, Q, R.

           Premise 2: X has property Z.

           Conclusion: Y has property Z.

 

X and Y are variables that stand for whatever is being compared, such as chimpanzees and humans or apples and oranges. P, Q, R, and are also variables, but they stand for properties or features that X and Y are known to possess, such as having a heart. Z is also a variable, and it stands for the property or feature that X is known to possess. The use of P, Q, and R is just for the sake of illustration-the things being compared might have more properties in common.

One simplified way to present the anti-vaccine (or pro-vaccine choice) analogy is as follows:

 

Premise 1: The right to choose an abortion is analogous to the right to choose to not be vaccinated.

           Premise 2: The right to choose an abortion is supported by the left.

           Conclusion: The right to choose to not be vaccinated should also be supported by the left.

 

While this analogy seems appealing to many anti-mask mandate folks, a key issue is whether it is a strong argument. The strength of an analogical argument depends on three factors. To the degree that an analogical argument meets these standards it is a strong argument.

First, the more properties X and Y have in common, the better the argument. This standard is based on the notion that the more two things are alike in other ways, the more likely it is that they will be alike in some other way. Second, the more relevant the shared properties are to property Z, the stronger the argument. A specific property, for example P, is relevant to property Z if the presence or absence of P affects the likelihood that Z will be present. Third, it must be determined whether X and Y have relevant dissimilarities as well as similarities. The more dissimilarities and the more relevant they are, the weaker the argument. So, is the analogy between the restrictive voter laws and mask mandates strong? To avoid begging the question by making a straw man, I will endeavor to make the best analogy I can—within the limits of truth.

The right to choose an abortion is often based on a principle of bodily autonomy; often expressed as “my body, my choice.” For the pro-choice, this principle warrants a person’s choice to have an abortion: it is their body, so it is their choice. While there is debate over the moral status of the aborted entity, an entity which might (or might not) be a person is killed by abortion. As such, the principle of bodily autonomy allows a person to kill another entity.

The right to forgo vaccination on the principle of bodily autonomy would seem to work in a similar manner. For those who are pro-choice about vaccines, this principle warrants a person’s choice to forgo vaccination: it is their body, so it is their choice. So far, so good. But, as with abortion, the choice does not just affect the person making the choice.

A person who forgoes vaccination willingly puts themselves and others in avoidable risk of infection and death. But, if a person can justly abort another entity as a matter of their choice, then one could infer that a person could thus put others at risk of illness and death as a matter of choice. But does the comparison hold here? I contend that because of critical differences, it does not.

First, while an abortion kills an entity there is good faith moral debate about whether the entity is a person. In contrast, a person who did not get vaccinated during the pandemic put those who are indisputably people at risk and, in many cases, without their choice or consent. One can, of course, argue that the aborted entity is a person and start up the anti-abortion debate. But this would have an interesting consequence.

If it is argued that the aborted entity is a person (or otherwise has sufficient moral status) and thus its right to life overrides the person’s right to bodily autonomy, then the same reasoning would apply to the pro-vaccine choice argument. Their bodily autonomy does not give them the right to put others at risk. As such, a person who argues in good faith that being pro-choice about abortions is like being pro-choice about vaccines must be for both or opposed to both. So, anti-abortion folks can only use the pro-choice bodily autonomy argument for vaccine choice in bad faith (or from confusion). In contrast, a pro-choice person need not be pro-vaccine choice. They can accept that the aborted entity is not a person or has a lower moral status than the person while accepting the obvious fact that the people who were harmed by the unvaccinated are people.

Second, an abortion kills a single entity while forgoing vaccination during pandemic puts everyone the person contacts at risk of illness and even death. Since those at risk are indisputably people, forgoing vaccination in a pandemic is far worse than an abortion. One can, of course, get into a debate about assessing harm in terms of probabilities and other considerations. For example, a person who forgoes vaccination might not infect anyone and if they do, no one they infect might get ill, and if they do get ill, then they might not die. In contrast, an abortion always kills the aborted entity. This becomes a debate about the right to harm other entities and assessing harm. But, if someone argues that a person does not have the right to harm another entity based on bodily autonomy, then this would apply to both abortion and vaccination: there should be no choice in either case.

Third, there is a difference in the cost for not being able to make the choice. If a person cannot choose an abortion, they can face great economic and social hardships. Our society is unkind to women, and it is especially unkind to mothers who lack support and resources. In contrast, the COVID vaccines are incredibly safe.  Much safer than giving birth in the United States. Once again, if someone accepts the pro-vaccine choice reasoning, then they would also need to accept the pro-choice reasoning in the context of abortion.

As such, the attempt to use pro-choice language and draw an analogy between reproductive rights and anti-vaccine rights fails logically. However, some might see it as having rhetorical value or as a bit of fun in trolling the libs with their own slogans.