the case for good samaritan laws rodney lewis evans
TRANSCRIPT
THE CASE FOR GOOD SAMARITAN LAWS
Rodney Lewis Evans Norfolk, Virginia
B.A., Old Dominion University, 1978 M.A., University of Virginia, 1981
A Dissertation Presented to the Graduate Faculty of the University of Virginia
in Candidacy for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy
Corcoran Department of Philosophy University of Virginia
ABSTRACT
Because of the individualism pervading Anglo-American
law, it has generally refused to criminalize failures to
aid strangers, even when the aid would be risk-free and
life-saving. Historically, the law has been seen largely
as an instrument for punishing intentional and negligent
harms and violations of contracts, but not as a means for
encouraging rescues rooted basically in need. While
judges and legislators have regarded failures to prevent
grave physical harm to strangers as callous and morally
objectionable, they have generally refused to criminalize
those failures, largely out of a concern for individual
freedom.
This work evaluates the arguments against (minimal)
good Samaritan laws, examines some arguments for what
might be called extensive duties of rescue, and ulti-
mately defends good Samaritan laws. The defense of the
laws is based on the moral and social importance of pre-
venting grave physical harm to others at little or no
risk and cost. I shall argue that a concern for the
prevention of harm must be balanced by a concern for
individual liberty and autonomy. On the basis of that
balance I shall try to defend good Samaritan laws, oppose
the extensive duties of rescue defended by some utili-
tarians and others, and argue for a highly limited
principle of legal paternalism, which will be sensitive
to both personal freedom and the prevention of harm.
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
I want to thank the philosophy faculty of the
University of Virginia and particularly John Simmons, my
dissertation advisor, and George Thomas, my thesis
advisor, in whose methodical philosophizing I have found
inspiration. Finally I want to thank my mother for her
patience and support and Eusebia for her superb typing.
CONTENTS
Page
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
Chapter One 6
Chapter Two . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
Chapter Three .................... 126
Chapter Four .................... 189
Notes to the Chapters ................ 210
Bibliography .................•... 218
INTRODUCTION
Historically, Anglo-American law has opposed crimi-
nalizing failures to aid strangers, even when the aid
would be risk-free and life-saving. That opposition is
rooted largely in the belief that, apart from special
positive duties generated by the seclusion of someone in
need of aid, by contract, by blood or marital relations,
or by some agreement, the principal business of the law
is to protect people from either deliberate harm or
negligence. The Anglo-American law has tended to attach
so much value to liberty and individualism that it has
refused to impose any liability on people who, say, omit
to throw a rope to a drowning person whose death might
have been prevented. The law's failure to punish bad
Samaritans, people who can easily prevent great harm to
others but do not, has struck many people as morally
outrageous. The phrase "the good Samaritan" comes of
course from the New Testament, specifically the Gospel of
Luke (10:25-37). The good Samaritan was a person who
happened upon a complete stranger who had been beaten and
left "half dead" by thieves. Although a priest and a
Levite had passed by the victim, the Samaritan not only
bound up the victim's wounds but also took him to an inn,
where he prepaid his bill and offered further help and
2
comfort. Judith Thomson has held that, if we think of
rights as minimal claims, then the Samaritan of the
parable was a splendid Samaritan, because his aid went
beyond what would be required by minimal decency.I
The question with which I am concerned in this dis-
sertation is not whether the law should require people to
act as beneficently as the good Samaritan in the parable,
but whether the law should require people to be (in
Thomson's words) minimally decent Samaritans. Arguably,
the priest and the Levite, who did not want to "get
involved," failed to be even minimally decent. The
parable is commonly taken to imply that in moments of
crisis all people in danger whom one immediately en-
counters are one's neighbors, in the sense that one has
an obligation to help them. Bad Samaritans are those
people who happen upon and ignore a distressed stranger
whom they can easily help at little or no cost. As a
result of the bad Samaritans' neglect, distressed people
suffer either harm or an increased risk of harm. The
stranger is typically a "complete stranger" to the bad
Samaritan in the sense both that the two have not made
any voluntary agreements or contracts that would generate
special duties and that they are not otherwise specially
related in such a way as to make one directly responsible
for the other's care. Some special relations are the
3
relation between parent and child, husband and wife, and
ship's master and passengers.
The Anglo-American law treats some actions as gene-
rating special positive duties even between strangers, as
when A secludes B, who needs to be helped. The question
whether the law ought to criminalize failures to effect
easy rescue of the sort with which we are concerned in-
volves the question whether the law ought to regard what
has been called "a common bond of humanity" as sometimes
sufficient to generate positive legal duties. Histori-
cally, Anglo-American law has answered "no" to that
question, and has insisted that bad or even egregious
Samaritans deserve contempt but not legal punishment,
because (the argument often goes) they have neither
deliberately nor negligently harmed anyone.
The structure of this dissertation will be as fol-
lows. I shall first briefly discuss the history of good
Samaritan laws in Europe and the United States. The
historical discussion will be Chapter One. In Chapter
Two I shall evaluate the most popular and influential
arguments against good Samaritan laws. Then in Chapter
Three I shall look at arguments for extensive duties of
rescue (duties beyond those required by what many people
consider minimal decency). In the final chapter I shall
tie together considerations for minimal good Samaritan
4
laws, which I shall defend, and then I shall summarize my
conclusions.
Before I begin discussing the history of good Samari-
tan laws, I must issue the following methodological warn-
ing. Although I am deeply attracted to moral reasoning
that, broadly speaking, appeals to what might be called a
Kantian respect for persons, I have not organized my
arguments around a moral system, nor have I tried to
reduce all the moral judgments made in this dissertation
to a few overarching moral principles. The values and
principles to which I shall appeal are those that common-
ly occur in moral reasoning and practical reasoning
generally: considerations of consistency, fairness,
utility, autonomy, and respect for persons. The question
will arise why I shall invest ordinary, commonsensical
values and principles with authority.
The answer to that question involves two reasons.
First, I am somewhat but not incorrigibly skeptical of
philosophers' attempts to create moral systems capable of
systematizing all important moral judgments. My skepti-
cism stems
utilitarian
of personal
systems can
from familiar causes. For example, while
systems have trouble capturing the importance
liberty and autonomy, purely deontological
sometimes oversimplify moral judgments and
can come close to rule worship. Further, some moral
5
questions appear to be too complex to be definitively
settled by appeal to a few extremely general principles.
(Consider, ~-, Kant's discussion of suicide in the
Groundwork.) The second reason I invest ordinary moral
principles with authority is my belief that the law ought
to reflect the most general moral principles commonly
employed by the people subject to the law. I hope that I
shall not be criticized--at least not severely--for
failure to order common moral principles after the manner
of an algorithm. I ask only that each of my arguments be
examined on its own merits. Now to Chapter One and the
history of good Samaritan laws.
In 1867,
enact a bad
hundred years
recognized a
Unlike those
(England, the
6
CHAPTER ONE
Portugal became the first European nation to
Samaritan criminal statute. Within one
or so later fifteen European nations had
legal duty to undertake easy rescues.2
fifteen nations, English-speaking nations
U.S.A., Canada, and Australia) have opposed
the imposition of liability in either tort or criminal
law for failures to rescue total strangers to whom one
stands in no "special" relation. Historically, Anglo-
American law has recognized at least four situations in
which failures to act may constitute breaches of legal
duties. One can be held criminally liable: (i) where a
statute imposes a duty to care for another,3 (ii) where
one stands in a certain status relationship to another,4
(iii) where one has assumed a contractual duty to care
for another,5 and (iv) where one has voluntarily assumed
the care of others and so secluded the distressed people
as to prevent others from rescuing them.6 Let me
elaborate.
Certain people(~, doctors, police officers, fire
fighters, and lifeguards) are sometimes required, because
of their vocations, to render aid. Certain people (e.g.,
employers, carriers, and innkeepers) are sometimes
7
required, because of contractual obligations, to render
aid. Further, certain people(~., spouses and parents)
are sometimes required, because of institutionally
recognized personal relationships, to render aid. An
example is found in Rex v. Russell, in which the de-
fendant was convicted of manslaughter for standing by and
simply watching his wife drown their two children and
then herself.7 Still further, people are sometimes re-
quired to render aid when they have accidentally caused
another's peril. ~-, if my car stalls below a hill, I
am required to take such steps as are necessary to pre-
vent my car from constituting a hazard. Finally, people
may be held liable if they fail to stop and assist at the
scene of an accident in which they are involved.
Apart from the special relations and circumstances
just described, Anglo-American law has generally refused
to require a person to help another. The law has in
short opposed a general duty of rescue, which would base
a person's requirement to help another simply on the
latter's need. One way to put the last point is to say
that the law(~, the Anglo-American law) has generally
opposed duties of rescue based purely on what is some-
times termed "the common bonds of humanity. 11 8 Until a
fairly recent statute enacted by Minnesota state legis-
lators, Vermont was the only state to recognize
8
duties of rescue. Part of the Vermont statute
reads as follows:
A
A person who knows that another is ex-posed to grave physical harm shall, to the extent that it can be rendered with-out danger or peril to himself or without interference with important duties owed to others, give reasonable assistance to the exposed person unless that assistance or care is being provided by others!9
number of people, including philosopher A.D.
Woozley, regard the Vermont statute as a paper tiger,
because it makes failures to rescue people a mere
misdemeanor punishable by a maximum fine of $100.00. In
contrast, the French law,~·, provides imprisonment up
to three years for failures to rescue.10 Although the
sanction of a $100.00 fine is light when it is compared
to the sanctions imposed by a number of European good
Samaritan statutes, the Vermont statute is nonetheless
important, at least theoretically, because it represents
the first attempt in American law to criminalize failures
to aid or rescue those people to whom one is related by
only common humanity. The Vermont statute runs counter
to the common-law tradition, in which people have not
been punished for failures to prevent harm even in
situations in which such failures would be considered
immoral by virtually any plausible standards. Such
9
omissions include the failure to warn a blind man of an
open manhole, the failure to throw a rope to a drowning
swimmer, the failure to lift the head of a sleeping
drunkard out of a puddle, and so on. The examples could
be multiplied, but the idea is clear: Anglo-American law
has generally refused to require easy and risk-free
rescues, even when such rescues might have saved lives.
Bad Samaritans have generally not been criminally punish-
able or civilly liable for their omissions and any
damages they fail to prevent.
The genesis of the Vermont statute is interesting and
deserves some discussion.11 Until the Vermont statute
there were no general duties of rescue in the United
States, but there were and are statutes called "good
Samaritan statutes, 11 which exempt physicians and some-
times ordinary citizens from civil liability for negli-
gence that is less than gross in the care or treatment of
victims of accidents. The chief goal of the statutes is
to encourage rescue by substantially removing the threat
of civil suits. Taking away an individual's right to sue
has been defended by a utilitarian appeal to the public
welfare.12
The majority of those statutes exempt only physicians
and other medical personnel from civil liability. Be-
cause most of the statutes do not give medical laypersons
10
any legal incentive to render aid, they have been criti-
cized. The statutes have been criticized also because
they vary from state to state, so that an out-of-state
physician (who may not know the state law) may be reluc-
tant to administer aid for fear of a malpractice suit.
Most of the pressure for the liability-exempting statutes
came from physicians, who are under a professional duty
to render aid.13 American pressure for the liability-
exempting statutes began to be felt in 1959 14 when '
physicians persuaded the California legislature to re-
lieve physicians who render emergency aid from the
traditional duty of due care.IS Since California's
action most states and the District of Columbia have
adopted similar statutes. In the state of Vermont
physicians' efforts to obtain a diminished standard of
care produced an effect somewhat different from that
which they had intended.
Vermont legislature
In 1965, both houses of the
passed a conventional protective
bill, which was, though, vetoed by the Governor. In
1967, the Vermont House passed another bill that assigned
liability to good Samaritans only for "willful or wanton
misconduct. 11 16 The Senate followed suggestions rejected
by the House and voted to impose a general duty of rescue
as the best means to insure aid for injured victims.17
Basically, the Vermont statute requires people to give
11
"reasonable assistance" to those people exposed to"grave
physical harm," unless that assistance is being provided
by others. The statute also exempts the rescuer from
civil liability for injuries unless the rescuer is
"grossly" negligent. The violation of the statute is, as
earlier mentioned, punishable by a fine of not more than
$100.00.
In 1983, Rhode Island and Minnesota enacted statutes
somewhat like that of Vermont, though the Rhode Island
statute is concerned only with the reporting of rape.
Those statutes were largely a response to a rape at Big
Dan's tavern in New Bedford, Massachusetts, where four
men raped a woman on the bar's pool table as the bar-
tender and four patrons watched.18 Because two patrons
cheered the attackers, they were charged with aggravated
rape, of which they were eventually acquitted.19
In Rhode Island, witnesses to a rape who do not
notify the police immediately are subject to fines up to
$500.00 and imprisonment up to one year.20 In Minnesota,
people who fail to render "reasonable assistance" to
anyone who is "exposed to or has suffered grave physical
harm" are subject to a $100.00 fine.21 Minnesota also
allows victims of rape to file civil suits against wit-
nesses who fail to effect any aid whatever.22 As of this
writing, Vermont's and Minnesota's good Samaritan stat-
utes and Rhode Island's rape-reporting statute are the
only examples of general duties of rescue in the U.S.A.
12
CHAPTER TWO
Since this chapter and the next are long, I have
divided them into sections. The sections of this chapter
are as the follows. The first explains why the harm
principle is important to my dissertation. The second
describes the most influential arguments against good
Samaritan laws. The third evaluates those arguments and
presents reasons for favoring the laws. The fourth ex-
plains the respects in which my views resemble and differ
from those of Joel Feinberg, who also supports good
Samaritan laws. The fifth and final section argues for a
highly limited principle of legal paternalism. The issue
of legal paternalism arises because I argue that it is
appropriate for the law to encourage people to prevent
harm. In the fifth section I argue that paternalism is
sometimes justifiable, as when it is aimed at preventing
harm to children, the retarded, and adults who do not
fully understand the nature and consequences of their
actions. Let us turn now to the first section.
I. Before examining arguments against
laws, I want to discuss briefly two issues
that will largely organize my thoughts.
determine whether any legal duties of rescue
imposed. Second, and relatedly, we
good Samaritan
or questions
First, we must
ought to be
must determine
13
whether duties of rescue follow from any fairly uncontro-
versial liberty-limiting principle, such as the harm
principle. Nearly everyone agrees that it is proper for
the law to criminalize assault, battery, theft, rape, and
murder. For those are clearly deliberate harms, on any
reasonable interpretation of "harm." As Joel Feinberg
says, when discussing good Samaritan laws~ the question
arises whether failure to effect easy rescues can be a
way of harming people.23
That question is important because if, say, failing
to throw ropes to drowning people can be a way of harming
them, criminalization of that failure could be based on
the harm principle. If there is, however, an irreducible
moral difference between causing harm to others and
(simply) allowing harm to befall them, the harm principle
(at least if strictly interpreted) might not be uncontro-
versially invoked to justify punishing failures to effect
aid. Further, if we accepted an irreducible difference
between harming people and allowing harm to befall them,
any attempt to ground a duty of rescue could not rely
simply on an unsupplemented harm principle, but would
have to rely on some other principle, or at least a
modified harm principle.
One
should
position is to
be supplemented
hold
by a
that the harm principle
principle that requires
14
people to prevent easily preventable harm to others whom
they happen to encounter in their travels. An exponent
of the supplementary principle might hold that, since
preventing people from causing harm to others is an
uncontroversial function of the law, the law ought to
prohibit people from allowing others to be harmed. For
prohibiting people from allowing harm to befall others
accomplishes the same end--that of preventing harm to
others. We could agree with the exponent of good
Samaritan laws and accept the presumption that the law
may be properly used to prohibit failures to prevent
harm, but only if there are no overriding reasons against
that presumption. One possible reason against the pre-
sumption would be some crucial moral difference between
causing harm and (simply) failing to prevent it.
We shall examine the most popular arguments against
the proposition that the law ought to encourage the
prevention of harm categorically and not just the pre-
vention of deliberate and negligent harms. A tricky
issue here is that of legal paternalism. If someone
holds that the law ought to encourage the prevention of
all harm (at least to the citizens subject to the law),
then it appears that he would have to accept paterna-
listic laws, which could require people, against their
wills, to refrain from harming themselves. For to
15
exempt paternalism from a harm principle that called for
the prevention of all harm would require some qualifying
condition. Someone might qualify the harm principle by
holding that it should apply to both everything it clear-
ly applies to now (~, battery, rape, and murder) and
duties to rescue those people to whom one can reasonably
ascribe a desire to be rescued. The phrase "desire to be
rescued" is aimed at ruling out the most objectionable
forms of paternalism. The problem with categorically
ruling out the legal prevention of self-inflicted harm is
that some highly qualified principle of legal paternalism
might be warranted. Indeed, near the end of this chapter
I shall argue for such a principle.
Eventually I shall try to support the view that fail-
ures to effect easy resuces should either fall directly
under the harm principle or follow from the harm princi-
ple supplemented by a principle requiring the prevention
of harm of either of two kinds: either harm that is not
willed by the persons who could be harmed or self-in-
flicted harm that would not be willed by the persons who
could be harmed were they aware of the nature and likely
consequences of their actions. Ultimately I shall argue
that, however we evaluate laws designed to protect people
from self-inflicted harm, the case for requiring the easy
16
prevention of grave physical harm to others who do not
want to be harmed is fairly persuasive.
I I. I
against
want
good
now to describe the most popular arguments
Samaritan laws. Joel Feinberg discusses
four standard arguments against good Samaritan laws: (i)
"the enforced benevolence argument"; (ii) "the line-draw-
ing argument"; (iii) "the argument from undue interfer-
ence with liberty"; and (iv) "the argument from causa-
tion.1124 Those four arguments are perhaps the most
influential arguments against the laws.
The enforced benevolence argument holds that good
Samaritan laws would erase the distinction between duty
and supererogation by making charity mandatory, by re-
quiring people to benefit others, by requiring them to
confer "gifts" on others. The argument just described
can and should be distinguished from an argument ad-
vanced by Elizabeth Wolgast, who expressed her view at
the American Philosophical Association, Pacific Division
Meeting (March 1981). Wolgast's view might be called an
argument from the diminishment of moral virtue. Accord-
ing to the argument, to attach legal sanctions to the
rescue of strangers is to reduce the number of oppor-
tunities for the display of moral virtue, since morally
virtuous acts must, it is held, be performed without
17
coercion. While Wolgast's argument is based on the value
of the exercise of moral virtue, the enforced benevolence
argument interprets active aid to others on the model
of conferring gratuitous benefits and hence its legal re-
quirement as an undesirable infringement of people's
freedom to choose the objects of their charity. (The
Wolgast argument is dubious, first, because it assumes
what is false, namely, that it is impossible for people
to be altruistically motivated to help others whom they
are legally required to help, and second, because it
values the display of virtue over a probable increase in
the saving of human life.)
After the enforced benevolence argument we shall
examine the line-drawing argument, which is based on an
accusation of a slippery slope. The argument holds that
to accept a general duty to aid strangers in an unantici-
pated emergency is in principle to open the door to
greater and greater infringements of personal liberty,
because (the argument goes) there will be no principled
way of drawing the line between fairly easy, face-to-face
rescues and more burdensome aid to the world's needy and
starving, which aid many if not most Westerners would
probably regard as supererogatory.
The third argument, the argument from undue inter-
ference with liberty, holds that although the prevention
18
of harm to others is a good reason for allowing the
abridgment of freedom, the reasons for requiring active
aid must be proportionately stronger than the reasons for
prohibiting actions, because duties to aid are generally
more burdensome than duties to refrain from harming
others, say, by assaulting, battering, or robbing them.
The fourth and most complex argument, the argument
from causation, consists of two claims or tneses. One
thesis is that there is
between harming others
befall them from other
a clear conceptual distinction
and (merely) allowing harm to
sources. It is held that only
active doings can, strictly speaking, cause harm, whereas
failures to prevent harm can at most (and at worst) be
said only to allow harm to happen. The second claim or
thesis, the moral significance thesis, holds that,
morally speaking, people should be held responsible for
only the harms that they cause. The first claim, if it
is to have force against good Samaritan laws, requires
the second claim, since without the moral significance
thesis some exponent of good Samaritan laws might argue
for those laws on the ground simply that they will pre-
vent harm, rather than that they will prevent delibe-
rately or negligently caused harm.
- 19
III. Let us turn to the first argument, that of enforced
benevolence. Since opponents of legal duties of rescue
often rely on the assumption that failure to help
strangers is merely a failure to confer a benefit, it is
well to discuss the distinctions between harming and mere
nonbenefiting and between benefiting and mere nonharm-
ing. The defenders of the common law's attitude toward
rescue have often if not typically viewed in the follow-
ing way actions affecting others. If A stands in no
"special relation" to B, then A can harm or benefit B by
intervening in B's affairs, or A can choose not to inter-
vene in B's affairs, in which case the law regards A as
neither benefiting nor harming B. Assuming that A and B
are complete strangers, A's failure to help B is regarded
simply as a failure to benefit. (A's failure to intervene
is also regarded as a failure to harm B.) In the situa-
tion just described, and from the standpoint of the
common law, A can harm B only by actively intervening in
B's affairs,~-, by choking B or negligently treating
B's injuries.
The picture given by the common law is that A's
failure to help B is a failure to perform an active
service, or to do what is charitable or benevolent.
Thus, in Union Pacific Ry. Co. v. Ca;e;eier the law re-
garded the failure to do anything whatever to help a
20
boy who had lost one arm and a leg as a failure to be
charitable or benevolent:
For the withholding of relief from the suffering, for failure to respond to the calls of worthy charity, or for faltering in the bestowment of brotherly love on the unfortunate, penalties are found not in the laws of men, but in the higher law, the violation of which is condemned by the voice of conscience.ZS
Failures to "bestow brotherly love" or failures to "re-
spond to the calls of worthy charity" are, however, de-
scriptions that do not properly capture egregious fail-
ures to rescue, as when someone through indifference
deliberately fails to throw a rope to save a drowning
stranger who will drown unless helped. Although Jeffrie
Murphy might not want to call such rope-throwing "chari-
ty," he comes close to saying, in the following example,
that failures to prevent harm to strangers, though at
times despicable, are simply failures to benefit the
imperiled party. He writes:
I can be highly morally lacking even in cases where I violate no one's rights. For example, I am sitting in a lounge chair next to a swimming pool. A child (not mine) is drowning in the pool a few inches from where I am sitting. I notice him and realize that all I would have to do to save him is put down my drink, reach down, grab him by the trunks, and pull him out (he is so light I could do it with one hand without even getting out of my seat). If I do not save him I vio-late no rights (strangers do not have a right to be saved by me) but would still
reveal myself as a piece of moral slime properly to be shunned by all decent people.26
21
It is not clear to me why the child would not have a
right to be saved by Murphy. After all, it is hypothe-
sized that Murphy can save the child's life at virtually
no effort and certainly no risk. I believe that a large
part of the problem stems from the word "benefit," which
is, as Joel Feinberg notes, ambiguous.27 Before I elabo-
rate, though, on the ambiguity of "benefit", let me make
some remarks about rights and rescue. While I am in
sympathy with Feinberg's claim that Murphy's drowning boy
has a right to Murphy's aid, I am a little less certain
of the claim than Feinberg. Feinberg bases his claim
largely on the proposition that Murphy's failure to aid
the boy would be an appropriate object of the boy's
grievance and resentment. He finds it quite natural to
say of Murphy that, in failing to rescue the boy, he
wronged him.
I realize that talk of rights can sometimes be less
than useful in resolving complicated issues, particularly
if one talks about rights without having in mind a con-
cretely elaborated theory of rights. I am concerned not
so much with talking about rights as with morally dis-
tinguishing the Murphy case from any clear case of
charity. What I reject is the view that Murphy's help-
22
ing the child is substantially like his contributing to a
charity in fulfillment of an imperfect duty of obliga-
tion. Let me explain.
According to the traditional picture of charity, as
described by, ~' Kant and Mill, people are morally
free to choose within general limits when, how, and whom
they will help. That picture is inapplicable to Murphy's
case, because Murphy is not morally free to decide
whether he should save the child. The moral requirement
operative in Murphy's example is a requirement to save
that child; that requirement cannot be satisfied other-
wise than by Murphy's saving that particular child. To
the degree that it is natural to describe Murphy's
failure to help the child as wronging the child, it is
arguable, though not indisputable, that the child has a
right to be helped by Murphy. Murphy's position is,
however, not without some merit, for it is true that
paradigmatic rights are correlative to either (i) posi-
tive duties generated by contract, special relations, or
statuses or (ii) uncontroversial duties of abstention,
such as duties to avoid battery, rape, murder, and so on.
Instead of arguing for the proposition that the
drowning child has a right to Murphy's help, I want to
examine and then oppose the view that Murphy's failure to
help the child is analogous to his failure to confer a
23
gift on the child. To that end I turn now to explaining
how regarding Murphy's help as a gift or a charitable
contribution
help can be
the enforced
is misleading
appropriately
benevolence
Samaritan laws as violating
when to be charitable.
concept of benefit, which
at best. Whether Murphy's
so described is important to
argument, which opposes good
people's freedom to decide
Now to a discussion of the
will, it is hoped, help us in
evaluating the enforced benevolence argument.
In what might be termed the generic sense of "bene-
fit" Murphy can benefit the drowning child by saving his
life, for to save the child would be to promote his
immediate interests. But one can also benefit people by
promoting their interest to a condition superior to what
is normal for them, as when someone gives a (non-needy)
complete stranger $100.00. Whether someone accepts talk
of different senses of "benefit" is unimportant here.
What is important is that we see that what qualifies as a
benefit will depend on standards of comparison.28
People's interests can be furthered in relation either to
their present or to their normal status. A hundred
dollar gift from an eccentric millionaire to a complete
stranger (who is not needy) is an example of improving
someone's normal status and may be plausibly regarded as
a boon or a windfall. But it is strained to say that, if
24
Murphy had rescued the drowning child, he would have be-
stowed some favor, or positive service, or even charity
on the child. For Murphy's saving the child would be a
case of restoring the child to his normal condition.
Failure to draw these distinctions between standards of
comparison makes it easier than it would otherwise be to
hold that Murphy's helping the child constitutes some
gift or charitable contribution, and that Murphy's
failure to help will not constitute wronging the child.
In Joel Feinberg's words:
It does not follow from the fact that a rescuer affects the endangered party's interests favorably that he "benefits" him in the sense of elevating his interest curve to a point on the graph above the baseline of the condition before he fell into the water. It is only the latter sense of "benefiting" that would support further descriptions of the rescue as benevolent generosity, "active service", "positive good", and so on, or the effect on the rescued party as "profit", "gain", or "advantage". Bene-fiting another, in this latter sense, is often to go beyond duty in a manner approved by our moral ideals but not re-quired by moral rules. The liberal advo-cate of a bad Samaritan statute can agree with Macaulay that in this precise sense of "benefit", governmental coercion can never be used to force one person to benefit another. But he should insist that easy rescue of a drowning child is not a "mere benefiting" in this sense. It is a benefit only in the generic sense of affecting the child's interest favora-bly, specifically by preventing a drastic decline in his fortune from a normal baseline. That is quite another thing than conferring a windfall profit on him.29
25
Many people who believe that we do not have a moral
duty to be even minimally decent Samaritans will argue
from the assumption that rescues--even easy rescues--of
complete strangers are gratuitous services, which we are
at liberty to give or not to give, such as gifts, favors,
or charity. But, as I have already suggested, benefit-
ing people in the sense of restoring them from a peri-
lous or harmful condition to a minimally decent condition
(in which they are free from immediate harm or grave risk
of harm) does not appear to be best described by "gift",
"favor", or "charitable contribution". The phrase
"minimally decent condition" is perhaps less misleading
there than the word "normal," because although we are
morally required to save drowning people when we can do
so at virtually no risk and cost, we are not morally re-
quired to compensate rich people for their losses in the
stock market; we are certainly not morally required to
restore former millionaires to their original levels of
wealth. In a case like that of Murphy, where A encoun-
ters B, whose life A can save with ease and without risk,
A's failure to help Bis a failure to do what is morally
required and arguably even a case of wronging B, but not
a case of A's simply failing to confer a gift or favor on
B.
To clarify my position I shall discuss the distinc-
26
tion between harm and nonbenefit, which is most clear in
extreme cases. To batter people is to harm them, whereas
simply to refrain from giving people gifts usually in-
volves only the withholding of benefits. It is easy to
think of ways to complicate the employment of that dis-
tinction. As Feinberg points out, we can complicate the
situation by complicating the nature of the relationship
between the agent and the "patient. 11 30 Many relation-
ships between people can generate special moral duties
and rights. Some of these relationships include the re-
lationships between husband and wife, between employer
and employee, between creditor and debtor, between doctor
and patient, between parent and child, and so on.
Besides those special duties and rights generated by
specific roles and agreements, there are a number of
moral duties and rights that are general. Negative
duties(~, duties to abstain from killing, raping, and
stealing) are duties owed to all people, simply as per-
sons. Further, many if not most people also acknowledge
some general positive duties of aid, most clearly appli-
cable to a case like Murphy's. While I believe that it
is plausible to hold that the drowning child has a right
to be saved by Murphy, we could think of another case,
discussed by Feinberg, in which our moral judgments
would be different.31 A convicted murderer appeals to
27
the governor for clemency. Here while the governor could
easily save the murderer's life, clemency is not some-
thing that the prisoner can claim as his right. Although
the governor's failure to give clemency may in some sense
be a causal factor in the prisoner's death, it is plausi-
ble to hold that the principal or at least ultimate cause
of the prisoner's death was his commission of the crime.
At any rate, if an action is indeed one of clemency, it
is presumably beyond uncontroversial moral requirements,
illustrating a kindheartedness going beyond a minimal
degree of decency.
The clemency case is instructive because it is a case
in which someone's failure to save a life is not best re-
garded as harming someone, but is more plausibly regarded
as a failure to confer a favor on someone. Feinberg
holds that executive clemency illustrates yet another
sense of "benefit", in which to benefit people is to
produce any favorable effect on their interests that is
gratuitous.32 If a failure to bestow executive clemency
is a good example of a failure to confer a gratuitous
benefit, we can see how inappropriate it is to describe
all failures to effect easy (and sometimes life-saving)
rescues as failures to confer gratuitous benefits. While
there are, as already suggested, gratuitous benefits (as
when people pick up hitchhikers), not all aid to stran-
28
gers is properly regarded as a favor or a gift people are
morally free to withhold. Generally speaking, the less
severe and probable the threatened harm or non-benefit
is, the less reason for holding that the potential aid is
morally required and the more reason for holding that the
aid is a gratuitous benefit.
As Feinberg points out, whether A's conduct toward B
harms or simply fails to benefit Bis a function not only
of (i) the effects of the conduct on B's interests but
also of (ii) whether A is morally required to help B.33
In cases in which A is not morally required to help B, as
in the clemency case, the baseline against which to
measure harms and benefits is the beneficiary's present
status. In Feinberg's words: "The benevolent stranger's
gift to the distraught bettor [who lost his money] then
might be regarded as a 'sheer gain' for him, indeed a
windfall profit, even though it only brings him back to
the break-even point at which he began the day. 11 34 But
in cases in which A is morally required to help B wholly
because of the latter's need, as in Murphy's case, the
baseline to measure benefits and harms is at the level of
imperiled person's "normal" status before the onset of
the crisis or emergency. (The comment about "normal
status" requires qualification, so that it can be under-
stood as referring to a condition of minimal decency.)
29
In discussing locations of baselines for measuring
harm and benefit, I have made moral judgments. I have
held that the help required by a person in grave danger
is in some circumstances not properly regarded as a gift
or a favor that potential rescuers are morally free to
give or to withhold. Moral judgments are unavoidable
here because we are talking about the concepts of harm
and benefit, which are morally charged. The enforced
benevolence argument turns on the proposition that any
aid--including life-saving aid--given to a stranger by a
party not specially related to the stranger is a gratui-
tous service. I have held that, morally speaking,
Murphy's failure to save the child is not properly re-
garded basically as a failure to confer a boon on some-
one; rather, his failure is a failure to respond to
another's humanity in even a minimally decent way.
My position may be summarized as follows. I have
suggested that there are various ways in which opponents
of good Samaritan laws have described easy rescues. Some
of those descriptions characterize such aid as "mere"
conferments of benefits, gratuitous favors, and charity.
I believe with Feinberg that all those descriptions are
inadequate conceptual analyses of "acts of assistance,"
at least of those acts that would constitute acts of
minimally decent Samaritanism.
30
Let us turn now to what Feinberg terms "the line-
drawing argument." The idea behind the argument is well
expressed by Richard A. Epstein, who writes: "Once one
decides that as a matter of statutory or common law duty,
an individual is required under certain circumstances to
act at his own cost for the exclusive benefit of another,
then it is very hard to set out in a principled manner
the limits of social interference with individual
liberty."35 To support his point Epstein gives the
following example.36 Each of us can save the life of
some starving child in a country ravaged by war by giving
ten dollars to a representative of some private charity.
While ten dollars may mean little or nothing to each of
us, it might well save a life. Epstein asks whether we
ought to give away the ten dollars or at least loan it
interest-free. He asks whether we can justify, on the
basis of reasonable principles, treating the charity case
differently from the case of someone drowning in front of
us.
The idea is that once we base a law on a
of beneficence, we shall have no clear
general duty
theoretical
immunity against legally enforced supererogation, or
worse, totalitarianism. Note that Epstein is not making
a dire prediction about the fate of countries that have
enacted, or that have thought about enacting, good
31
Samaritan statutes. Rather, he is maintaining that the
concepts involved in good Samaritan statutes (e.g.,
"reasonable risk," "little cost," "prevention of grave
physical harm") are so vague and slippery that there is
no clear, principled way of consistently applying the
statutes to only cases of clear-cut moral duties, as in
the case of Murphy's drowning child.
Although A.D. Woozley appears to read Epstein as
advancing a dire prediction, I think that Woozley's
reading may not be quite accurate.
answer to Epstein's and similar arguments:
Here is Woozley's
If Good Samaritan law cannot be intro-duced without undermining the foundations of individual liberty, how is it that it is alive and well in Denmark, France, Germany, Holland, and Norway? What seems to lie behind the objection is a fear of vagueness, that we cannot put limits on the scope of a duty to aid. But we can; that is what skilled legislative drafts-men are paid for; and what they cannot foreclose in advance the courts have it as their function to determine by inter-pretation and adjudication afterwards.37
Mr. Woozley is perhaps dismissing Epstein too quick-
ly, because Epstein must realize that "legal draftsmen"
can draw up statutes that require, say, saving a drowning
person by throwing a rope, and that explicitly forbid the
State to use tax money to help starving people in
Ethiopia. Rather, Epstein's contention is that there is
no obvious justification for restricting duties to aid
32
to, say, easy, face-to-face rescues or for attaching most
importance to rescues of that sort. His idea is that, if
we are required to save lives when we can do so at little
or no risk and cost, there are no obvious principled ob-
jections to legally requiring increasingly large finan-
cial support to impoverished people, including those in
the Third World.
James S. Fishkin, in The Limits of Obligation, agrees
with Epstein's concern about line-drawing. Basically,
Fishkin holds that our ordinary moral views about rescue
are perfectly coherent when we consider helping only
those people whom we meet walking down the street. He
holds that we can all agree that we ought to throw a rope
to a drowning person, but that we need not, say, risk our
lives to save a stranger. Matters become difficult, how-
ever, when we consider duties of beneficence in relation
to the entire world. For when we apply to the entire
world even a minimal principle of altruism (such as the
principle that people should prevent great harm if the
costs to them and everyone else are minimal), we shall
run into a set of incoherent moral judgments. Fishkin's
idea is that, since the world is full of needy people,
even a minimal principle of altruism will require a
series of ~acrifices that will add up to a cumulative,
supererogatory effort. He writes:
The disparity in affluence between the developed countries and the world's poor is so enormous that an average American citizen of average income, such as this author, could give half his income--and it would still be the case that an additional small contribution would be a minor sacrifice. If I were reduced to half my present (junior faculty) salary, I could still afford to give five more dollars. What would I do with five dollars? Go to the movies? Pay for part of my new pair of sunglasses? Buy a paperback book? A further sacrifice of five dollars at the margin (if it had any noticeable effect on my life at all even at that level of income) would only affect such minor discretionary expendi-tures. What are any of these benefits compared to the good that can be done for an unknown starving person by contribu-tions to famine relief?
The difficulty, of course, in consis-tently applying this principle is that we would be led, step by step, to sacrifices of heroic proportions. If a large number of acts fall under this principle of minimal altruism, then they accumulate to sacrifices which, in total, should be re-garded as heroic under the cutoff for heroism. We thus come to classify the same acts as obligatory, on the one hand, and heroic or supererogatory, on the other.38
33
Fishkin is pessimistic about dissolving what he re-
gards as the inevitable tension that sterns from applying
our ordinary moral views about rescue to the entire
world. He believes that any solution will require a sub-
stantial revision of our ordinary moral views toward
individual freedom or minimal altruism or supereroga-
tion. As to Epstein, because he believes that the line
34
between morally required and supererogatory rescue cannot
be fairly drawn in practice, he rejects legal duties of
minimal altruism.
To try to answer Epstein and Fishkin, I shall discuss
the case against good Samaritan laws presented by Lord
Macaulay, whose views resemble those of Epstein. Let me
first describe the context in which Macaulay was writ-
ing. In 1837, the English historian Lord Macaulay was
given the task of revising the Indian penal code.
Macaulay began his task by asking to what extent omis-
sions should be punished when they involve a failure to
prevent harm. He eventually concluded that only certain
omissions should be punished, namely, those involving the
"special relations" we have already discussed. He de-
scribed what he took to be clearly punishable omissions,
as when a jailor refuses to feed a prisoner who starves,
or when a nurse fails to pick up her charge (a baby) from
a tub of water in which the baby drowns. Those are, ac-
cording to Macaulay, clearly punishable omissions because
they are failures to do what is prescribed by law as a
result of contract. He contrasted the cases of the
jailor and the nurse with the case of people who rebuff
strangers begging for money. The people who rebuff
strangers will normally stand in no special relation to
them: They have made no promises or agreements or con-
35
tracts with the strangers, nor have they negligently
treated them. Ultimately Macaulay sided with the common-
law tradition, which grounds positive duties to others in
prior agreements, roles, or special statuses.
As just
treatment of
suggested,
positive
Macaulay's
duties is
rationale for his
like that of Epstein:
"Wherever the line of demarcation is drawn, it will, we
fear, include some cases which we might wish to exempt,
and will exempt some which we might wish to include.39
To try to substantiate that charge, Macaulay examined the
following suggestion. Suppose the law were to treat as
homicide the omission to save the life of an imperiled
person when the person could have been saved "without
personal danger or pecuniary loss." Macaulay held that
the standard in question would be inadequate because for
some cases it would be too severe and for others it would
be too lenient. It would be too severe in the case of a
Calcutta surgeon who refused to go across the subconti-
nent of India from Calcutta to Meerut to perform a life-
saving operation that he was uniquely capable of perform-
ing.40 For the law, according to Macaulay, should not
require someone, under great inconvenience, to save a
complete stranger. The standard might also, in certain
circumstances, be too lenient, as when it would exempt
parents from spending a great deal of money to save their
own children.41 Macaulay's
36
idea here is that the
standard for rescue under discussion would be too
those "nonfeasors" who are specially related
contract or status to those endangered.
low for
through
Feinberg rightly maintains that Macaulay's problems
with the standard under discussion are answerable. For
if the Indian surgeon should not have to go across the
Indian subcontinent, we could exempt that case and
similarly burdensome ones by writing into the statute a
clause exempting people from "unreasonable inconven-
ience.1142 Further, a higher standard of expectation can
be applied to those special relations rightfully of
special concern to Macaulay and the common law. Those
special relations would generate more serious duties and
punishments because such relations are specially relied
upon. To use an example from Macaulay, if some guide
"stationed by authority" to warn travelers against
fording rivers that are too dangerous to cross neglects
his specially assigned duty, then he is particularly
reproachable, because he, by his voluntary agreement,
gave people to understand that they could safely rely on
him.43 Macaulay believed, though, that in the absence of
specially generated responsibility a person who knows
that the river is too dangerous to ford should be under
no legal obligation to warn people. Again, the reason is
37
that any law requiring rescue will, according to
Macaulay, almost certainly be unjust because it will
require too little or, what is more likely, too much.
As we have seen, Epstein objects to good Samaritan
laws because he believes that, once we require people to
act at their own cost for the exclusive benefit of
strangers, it will be almost impossible to set out
principles by which to limit social interference with
individual liberty. Like Epstein, Macaulay was worried
about the prospect of reasonably drawing lines between
morally requisite and supererogatory rescues.
writes:
It is true that none but a very depraved man would suffer another to be drowned when he might prevent it by a word. But if we punish such a man where are we to stop? How much exertion are we to re-quire? Is a person to be a murderer if he does not go fifty yards through the sun of Bengal at noon in May in order to caution a traveller against a swollen river? Is he to be a murderer if he does not go a hundred yards?--if he does not go a mile?--if he does not go ten? What is the precise amount of trouble and in-convenience he is to endure? The dis-tinction between a stranger who will not give a halloo to save a man's life, and a stranger who will not run a mile to save a man's life, is very far from being equally clear.44
Macaulay
But it is not clear that these matters are as foggy
as Macaulay suggests. Even though we may be unable to
discern a mathematically precise point at which day be-
38
comes night, lightness and darkness are tolerably dis-
tinguishable. Further, it is well to remember that the
law already makes extensive use of the "reasonable man
standard." To answer Macaulay and to continue the
previous figure of speech, we might say that, while the
law should not be expected to specify the exact point at
which day becomes night (~, the exact point at which
reasonable risks and inconveniences become unreasonable
risks and inconveniences), the law might well be clear
enough to distinguish between noon and dusk (~,
between clearly reasonable and clearly unreasonable risks
and inconveniences). In Feinberg's words:
There may be no morally relevant dif-ference between any two adjacent places on the spectrum, but there is a very clear difference between widely separated ones. It would be inconsistent to exempt one bad samaritan for failing to take two steps while convicting another for fail-ure to take one, but there would be no inconsistency in convicting one for fail-ure to take half a dozen steps while exempting another for failure to run two miles.45
One way to answer Macaulay and Epstein is by crimi-
nalizing only those failures to rescue that require vir-
tually no risk or inconvenience. Although that tack may
answer the line-drawing argument, someone might hold that
punishing only horrible Samaritans fails to do justice,
because we would then be exempting from liability bad
39
Samaritans who refused to expose themselves to even very
little risk or inconvenience. An answer to the last ob-
jection is to
volves dividing
advocate Feinberg's
rescues into three
position,
classes:
which in-
those in-
volving (i) no unreasonable risk, cost, or inconvenience
(including those cases in which there is no risk, cost,
or inconvenience whatever); (ii) risk, cost, or incon-
venience that is of uncertain and controversial reasona-
bleness; and (iii) clearly unreasonable risk, cost, or
inconvenience.46
If we can achieve a workable understanding of "un-
reasonable risk and cost," and we advocate, as Feinberg
wants to advocate, the imposition of liability only in
cases falling under class (i), we shall have a basis for
establishing principled differences between cases that
Epstein thought could not be theoretically distinguished,
or practically distinguished in a principled way. To the
objection that the concept of reasonableness is vague
Feinberg plausibly answers that the law already makes
extensive use of that concept. For that concept is used
both in civil cases ("reasonable care") and in criminal
cases ("Would a reasonable person have been able to bear
those insults without being provoked?" or "Was it
reasonable for Jones to use the degree of force that he
used?").47 Since the law already allows determinations
40
based on differences of degree, the person who opposes
good Samaritan laws on the ground that they require
standards involving judgments about differences in
degree ought either (i) to oppose much civil law (par-
ticularly standards governing negligence) and some
criminal law or (ii) to explain exactly why judgments now
requiring quantitative discrimination in civil and
criminal law are proper in a way in which
reasonable risk and inconvenience are
judgments about
not. As to the
possibility that the discretion left to juries and
prosecutors will lead to unfair or malicious prosecution
of decent but unheroic Samaritans, there are, as Feinberg
holds, a number of possible safeguards.48 First, the law
could require only those rescues involving little or no
risk and cost. Second, lawyers and judges could empha-
size a safeguard already contained in the criminal law,
that of requiring for conviction a judgment of guilt
beyond a reasonable doubt. Third, juries could be in-
structed not to convict people if there are any doubts
about the reasonableness of the risk involved in omis-
sions to rescue.
Even though I believe
be answered, I do not want
the line-drawing objection
fact, I readily admit that
that Macaulay and Epstein can
to give the impression that
has no force whatever. In
there may be situations in
41
which we are not sure about the nature and scope of a
moral duty to rescue. One such puzzling situation
already mentioned was that of the nineteenth-century
English residents of India, many of whom regularly
encountered starving Indian beggars. Macaulay was
addressing the situation of those British residents of
India. We have seen that Macaulay, when he gave his
advice in 1837, held that in the absence of special re-
lations a passer-by ought to be under no legal duty to
give money to any beggars. Since I think that Macaulay's
conclusion in the beggar example is plausible, but also
think that it is sensible for the law to require easy
rescue, such as the rescue discussed by Jeffrie Murphy, I
should draw some distinctions.
If we think of Murphy's lounger example as a paradigm
for a situation calling for minimally decent Samaritanism
(MDS), we can see how importantly that example differs
from the Indian situation discussed by Macaulay. In the
example discussed by Murphy, the potential rescuer can,
once and
absence of
for all, prevent
intervention, be
grave harm that will, in the
imminent. Typically, the
people who can be minimally decent Samaritans can
help--at little or no risk and cost--a person who is in
grave and imminent or immediate danger. In the Indian
situation few if any English people were in positions to
42
prevent grave harm to all the starving Indians they en-
countered. Each English person could at best either sub-
stantially help only a few Indians or give almost no help
to, say, hundreds or thousands of Indians. Although some
people may be certain about what the English people ought
to have done, I am uncertain.
I think, however, that
the situation in which the
it is plausible to hold that
English people found them-
selves was somewhere between a case requiring charity and
a case requiring rescue. For the situation differed from
a typical situation calling for minimally decent Samari-
tanism, since most of the English people, as I suggested,
could not help all those people who needed help. Nor
could they, once and for all, save most of the people
needing help from imminent danger. Because of thi un-
fortunate conditions to which the English residents of
India were exposed, it is plausible to argue that if any
one of the residents distributed, say, 20% of his income
to every third beggar he encountered, no unhelped beggar
could reasonably claim that he was wronged, that he was
the object of gross moral callousness. The situation
just described is sharply different from Murphy's case,
in which Murphy could have easily saved the child's life,
once and for all. At the very least, Murphy was guilty
of gross moral callousness.
It is
43
plausible to regard contributions of the
English residents to the Indian poor not as help exacted
as a right by identifiable claimants but as more like
charity in fulfillment of an imperfect obligation to help
some people less fortunate than oneself. That interpre-
tation may be compatible with the position of John Stuart
Mill, who saw charity as a, or the, paradigmatic duty of
imperfect obligation: Charitable acts are morally
required, but not owed to any definite person at any
definite time. The idea is again that we are obligated
to help, to a reasonable net degree, the needy, but that
we may more or less decide for ourselves exactly when and
whom to help. Typically, we must decide how much to give
to a class of equally needy people.
In theory, a modern state's welfare system attempts
to ensure that a nation's poor are equitably raised to at
least minimally decent living conditions. A principal
idea behind such a system is that without a scheme of
coordination directed by a centralized agency the poor
would most likely not be equitably helped, and the bene-
factor~ would not equitably bear the burden of helping
the poor. Feinberg writes:
Now no one can plausibly be charged with failure to prevent a beggar's death by not making him a direct contribution, since agencies of the state will not per-mit the beggar to die in any case, and one can always plead in one's defense
that the state's money for this purpose comes from tax funds to which one has already contributed one's fair share. It may have seemed obvious to Macaulay that no unrelated samaritan has a duty to save a starving person's life by giving him money, but now we all have a general duty, enforced in a coordinated way, to support welfare with taxes, and the reasonableness of that duty is no longer seriously questioned.49
44
Some libertarians might dispute Feinberg's last con-
tention. Temporarily waiving libertarian problems with
general positive duties and particularly taxes, my posi-
tion is that, however defensible the instit~tion of state
welfare is, moral duties to act as minimally decent
Samaritans are at least as defensible as taxation for
public welfare, for at least two reasons. First, while
it is conceivable, though often perhaps unlikely, that
one could equitably discharge the imperfect duty of
charity by giving one's "fair share" to private chari-
ties, it is inconceivable for any organization, public or
private, to effect such aid as would be required by
Samaritanism. For such duties involve situations that
are by definition urgent and unpredictable. Second, and
as Feinberg holds, situations requiring Samaritanism
typically do not involve the problems of unfairness
attendant upon singling out a particular person to help,
nor do easy rescues unfairly burden chance rescuers.
We have now come to a point at which we can see what
45
the beginnings of an answer to Macaulay and Epstein will
look like. First, we have a rationale for the minimal
duties of rescue required by good Samaritan laws. The
duties will follow from the judgment that people should
prevent grave harm to others in situations in which they
are specially or uniquely able to prevent that harm at
little or no risk and cost. I shall not pretend that the
idea of special or unique abilities is, within the rele-
vant context, without difficulty.
Before I try, however, to clarify that idea, I want
to explain why it is important to the liberal's case for
good Samaritan laws. That idea is important because it
highlights the point that, while the general (and imper-
fect) duty to help the poor might be discharged through
governments or private charities or other corporate
agencies, the requirements to help people in need of MDS
are requirements to help people who cannot be helped
otherwise, as by special
agencies. Further, and
organizations
as already
or governmental
suggested, since
situations requiring MDS are uncommon, there is no
substantial danger of unfairly taxing anyone's resources.
We might now be able to clarify the idea of special
ability and placement by considering some examples. I
beg the reader's indulgence as we look once again at
Murphy's example. In that example no one but Murphy is
46
physically able to save the child, and he can save the
child simply by reaching down and picking the child from
the pool. Because of Murphy's situation, he has special
knowledge (~, knowledge that the child is drowning)
and ability to save the child, who can be saved only if
Murphy acts immediately. If we changed the situation so
that a professional lifeguard were where Murphy was
sitting and Murphy were several yards away from the
child, the lifeguard would clearly be specially related
to the child legally and morally, both because of his
location and because of his duties as a lifeguard.
Unfortunately, however, many emergencies cannot be
remedied by professionals, but can be remedied only by
lookers-on who can save people only if they act without
delay.
Questions about special ability and position are
doubtless not always so easily answered as in the Murphy
case. There are after all situations in which perhaps a
dozen persons can save someone from drowning, or can call
the police to report a rape in progress. Further, in the
drowning case if all twelve persons tried to save the
drowning person, they could make the situation even more
dangerous. That situation is not, however, an argument
for passivity, but it simply highlights the judgment that
the duty to render aid must be discharged carefully and
47
in consideration of other potential rescuers, whose
efforts one could unintentionally thwart. The possi-
bility of endangering people in an already precarious
situation also suggests that the requirement to effect
rescue falls on people only when other people are not
already adequately effecting aid. Naturally, if a pro-
fessional rescuer (such as a lifeguard or a paramedic) is
adequately giving aid, then a by-stander is freed from
any requirement to help.
As I have already suggested, part of the reason for
talking about special ability and placement is that some
people vitally in need of immediate aid cannot be helped
otherwise than by lookers-on. Those lookers-on cannot
dismiss the requirement to aid such people simply by
saying, "I gave at the office." While we may sometimes
be unsure about defining the exact limits of special
placement, it would be implausible to hold that there are
no reasonable ways to distinguish between Murphy's duty
to save a particular drowning child and his duty to give
a certain percentage of his income, largely in a way
approved by him, to a worthy charity.
To the objection that it is practically impossible to
attach principled restrictions to duties of rescue we can
point to Feinberg's idea of restricting rescues to only
those rescues that require clearly minimal risk, cost,
48
and inconvenience. The idea of "reasonable risk and in-
convenience," though vague, does not appear to be unwork-
able. Nearly everyone accepts the existence of some
general positive moral duties, though some people object
either to the ways in which governments determine the
"fair share" for each citizen or to the use of govern-
mental coercion to collect taxes for public welfare. If
people accept the existence of some general positive
moral duties, they ought to recognize what I take to be
the clearest cases of those duties, namely, cases in
which people can (once and for all) easily and uniquely
prevent grave physical harm (including death) to others.
(In discussing the third and fourth arguments against
good Samaritan laws, I shall try to answer some liber-
tarian objections to general positive duties.)
We have seen so far two arguments against minimal
duties of rescue. Both arguments appeal to the value of
individual liberty. The enforced benevolence argument
holds, as we saw, that legally requiring rescue is tan-
tamount to making charity mandatory, depriving people of
the freedom to decide when to be charitable. That argu-
ment, I have held with Feinberg, rests on a dubious
analysis of "acts of assistance." The second argument we
have examined, the line-drawing argument, holds that
duties grounded purely in altruism cannot in any
49
principled way be so restricted as to respect the degree
of personal autonomy and morally free action we think
each person deserves. We shall turn next to the third
argument against good Samaritan laws, that from the un-
justifiable limitation of liberty, and then finally to
the argument from causation. The third and fourth argu-
ments will be of particular interest to libertarians, who
typically oppose any general positive duties. Now to the
third argument.
Someone might concede that, while the prevention of
harm to others is a good reason for the law's limiting
our liberty by prohibiting certain conduct, the law ought
not to impose requirements to aid, because the latter are
greater interferences with liberty than mere prohibi-
tions. The libertarians might demand proportionately
more weighty reasons for positive duties than negative
duties, since positive duties can limit freedom more.
They might argue that in the absence of special rela-
tionships (particularly contractual ones) people ought
not to be required to prevent harm they in no way
initiated.
One problem with the argument is that positive duties
do not always restrict our options more than negative
ones. Feinberg writes:
If the law required doctors to travel all over the country treating patients, that
option would be very intrusive, but a law requiring a closely situated bystander to warn a blind person that he is about to step into an open manhole requires only a spoken word, which hardly limits the other options at all. Similarly, a legal prohibition against driving more than ten miles per hour in a school zone limits one's liberty more narrowly (and a good thing too!) than would an enforced limit of fifty miles per hour.SO
50
Feinberg's point is that the mere fact that a rule is
proscriptive rather than prescriptive does not entail
that the rule restricts liberty less. The extent to
which some rule restricts liberty will be a function of
how it influences our options, and the extent to which a
rule influences our options is not a simple function of
whether the rule is prescriptive or proscriptive.
There is, however, one feature of duties of rescue
that does make them in some sense more invasive than
ordinary criminal prohibitions. Because duties of rescue
will require people to help others principally in urgent
and unpredictable situations, those duties are, more than
most other duties, unanticipated, and unanticipated
duties are obviously not the sorts of things for which
people can plan. Given what was just said, some liber-
tarian might argue as follows. If we are to have as much
freedom as is compatible with the similar freedom of
others, we .should allow people as much freedom as possi-
ble to plan and predict the course of their lives. With
51
is no problem with predic-
business well enough to
most negative duties there
tion. Most of us can mind our
avoid intentionally harming
rescue things are different,
whether we shall chance upon
others. But with duties of
since we cannot predict
a complete stranger in
distress.
I think that the concern about unpredictability and
its effect on freedom is legitimate, but believe, along
with Feinberg, that the way to respond to it is not by
rejecting all duties of rescue but by restricting duties
of rescue to those situations in which one can prevent
grave physical harm to others at little or no risk and
cost. Further, and again, since most people will rarely
if ever chance upon people in need of minimally decent
Samaritanism, good Samaritan laws do not appear to be
obviously inequitable. It is well to realize that the
law already requires positive performances that fall on
people haphazardly, as when people are required to
testify in court as witnesses to crime.
Samaritans, witnesses to crimes are
help others in need. Given that
Like many decent
specially able to
some people are
specially placed to prevent, at little or no risk and
i~convenience, grave harm that cannot be otherwise
prevented, I do not believe that requiring minimally
decent Samaritanism unreasonably restricts their liberty.
I turn now to
that from causation.
said, consists of
52
the fourth and last major argument,
The argument, as I have previously
two assertions: (i) the restricted
causation claim and (ii) the moral significance thesis.
The restricted causation claim holds as a conceptual
truth that only active doings can be said t~ cause harm,
and that nondoings can at most merely allow harm to
happen. The moral significance thesis holds that
people's culpability should extend only to those harms
they cause. As Feinberg says, the restricted causation
claim constitutes an argument against good Samaritan laws
only when it is supplemented by the moral significance
thesis. For without that thesis there would be no
special moral relevance in the claim that bad Samaritans
allow rather than cause harm.
According to the
causing harm, as opposed
significant enough to
moral significance thesis, only
to allowing harm, is morally
warrant criminal legislation. By
"causing harm" let us mean "starting a causal process
that leads directly to a harmful consequence." By
"allowing harm" or "failing to prevent harm" let us mean
"the failure to do what is necessary to stop a harmful
causal process begun by a source other than oneself."
The concept of causation is obviously complex, and I do
not want to suggest otherwise. I must content myself
here, however, with relying
pre-analytical understanding of
53
on the reader's intuitive,
the distinction between
one's causing harm by, say, battering, raping, or drown-
ing someone and one's deliberate failure to prevent
someone from being battered, raped, or drowned. Let me
elaborate.
In support of the moral significance thesis someone
might hold that we ordinarily regard deliberate batt~ries
and murders as worse then a by-stander's failure to pre-
vent batteries and murders. We must, though, be careful
here. While it is true that failures to prevent harm are
often motivated by fear rather than by malice, and are
often less blameworthy than deliberately inflicted harms,
we should compare an action and an omission that are
alike in motive and intention but differ only in that the
action (directly) causes harm, whereas the omission
allows it. If we compare actions and inactions as sug-
gested, we might have to conclude that in circumstances
in which the harm is grave and preventable with ease and
without risk, there is no significant moral difference
between those actions and the inactions, or at least no
difference significant enough to warrant our regarding
only "direct" harms as criminalizable. For, as Feinberg
holds, the claim of "moral symmetry" between actions and
their corresponding inactions appears to hold in clear-
54
cut cases of bad Samaritanism, such as Murphy's lounger
story.51
Remember that in the story the pool lounger (Murphy)
can easily reach down and save the child from drowning,
but he decides against helping the child, presumably
because of indifference or the desire to avoid even
slight inconvenience. We might compare our assessment of
the lounger's inaction with "the complementary story of
the same person idly pushing the child into the pool,
when the lounger's motivation is the same. 11 52 Perhaps we
might regard the pusher as slightly--and I mean slightly
--more reproachable than the lounger who simply watches
the child fall into the pool and then does nothing to
help, but surely the difference between the two cases is
hardly morally important enough to justify criminaliza-
tion only in the pushing case.
Some people might want some moral theory or principle
to justify my contention that the lounger's failure to
save the child who accidentally falls into the pool is
just about as morally serious as the lounger's playfully
shoving the child into the pool and then failing to help
him. It is not clear to me whether any theory or princi-
ple I could invoke would be on any firmer ground, would
be any more obvious, than the particular moral judgment.
But before I discuss theoretical justification, it is
55
well to remember the nature of not only the objection but
also the objectors. In the context in question the ob-
jectors are not nihilists: They accept general moral
duties, but contend that such duties must all be duties
of abstention. That is why they think that loungers who
push small children into pools are responsible for the
children's misfortunes in a way that they would not be if
they only watch the children drown as a result of acci-
dentally falling.
I might here ask the objectors why they think that
the two cases are so different as to warrant profoundly
different moral assessments. I am hoping that they have
read my discussion and criticism of the most common argu-
ments against good Samaritan laws, and that they are in
sympathy with my criticisms of those arguments. They
might, however, rest their case on some version of what
has been termed "rational egoism."
They will, however, probably have problems with that
position, at least if they express the position intra-
ditional terms. I make that claim because rational
egoism, traditionally understood, is a consequentialism
holding that people ought to do whatever they can to
satisfy their (presumably overall and long-term) self-
interest. Given that understanding of rational egoism,
someone might well wonder whether rational egoists have
56
trouble taking any rights seriously, including those
rights correlative to negative duties. If I have a duty
to refrain from stealing your property, presumably you
have a claim against me that I would be violating by
stealing your property. My point is that, if my ob-
jectors take negative duties seriously, it is difficult
to see how they can justify the value they attach to
those duties by appeal to rational egoism, at least as
that position has been traditionally understood.
If the objectors try to make out a case for saying
that it is in their enlightened self-interest to
cooperate in, and give support to, a system of laws that
treats negative duties as virtually sacrosanct, then I
submit that it might well be in their best interest to
support a system of minimal general duties of rescue. At
least it is not obvious that enlightened egoists ought to
adhere strictly only to laws reflecting negative duties,
if their position requires them to take even those duties
seriously.
Just as the egoist might have trouble taking negative
duties seriously without accepting general positive
duties, so minimal duties of rescue appear to follow from
a number of different theories and principles. Clearly
utilitarianism will reject the view that negative duties
are inherently more serious than positive ones. (I would
57
not, however, try to argue against the objectors on
purely utilitarian grounds, because I think that utili-
tarianism is too problematic in its treatment of indi-
vidual liberty and personal autonomy to defend. Indeed,
I plan to argue against its treatment of rescue in the
next chapter. My point is simply that utilitarianism is
a popular moral theory that conflicts with ·the view that
negative duties are inherently more serious than positive
ones.)
The objectors' rejection of general positive duties
is also incompatible with theories other than utilitari-
anism. A Kantian,~' would probably agree with Kant's
judgment that rational agents could not consistently will
that they not be helped in grave emergencies, for presum-
ably rational agents would not want to thwart their own
desires.
There may, however, be some "rugged individualists"
who really believe that other people are not morally ob-
ligated to throw them ropes when they are drowning, but
it is not clear either (i) that their species of indi-
vidualism is rational or (ii) that their view is compati-
ble with the recognition of even negative duties. It is
well to remember that even on one of the most egoistic
models of human behavior, that of Hobbes, people are
conceived as required by rationality to covenant with one
another for mutual benefit.
58
Although I am unfamiliar
with Hobbes's position on rescue (if indeed he expressed
one), it is not clear that his position excludes duties
of rescue. In fact, someone might hold that Hobbes's
position should endorse minimal duties of rescue.
Like Feinberg, I reject the "moral significance
thesis," because I do not see any substantial moral
difference between allowing an imperiled person to suffer
grave harm (when one can easily and safely prevent the
harm) and causing that harm, other things (motive and
intention) being equal. Someone might here ask whether
the person in Murphy's position would push the child into
the pool if he had not fallen in or whether the person in
Murphy's position would be unconditionally opposed to
pushing the child but not opposed to letting him drown.
Although there may be people who would never deliberately
drown the child but who are quite willing unconcernedly
to refrain from saving the child, it is difficult to
understand how someone could defend that position
without, at the very least, revealing a confused or
corrupt mind. My point is that, if otherwise normal
adults could simply sit watching a child as he drowns in
front of them, they are acting heartlessly. Further, if
they tried sincerely to defend their failure to save the
child by saying that they did not push the child, we
59
might wonder why they would be attracted to a theoretical
system that would lay enormous stress on that distinc-
tion. I should think, however, that as a matter of psy-
chological fact it is doubtful whether many people who
could without remorse simply watch the child drown would
have severe moral qualms about drowning the child, at
least if drowning the child were in their self-interest.
Even if someone denies any moral symmetry between the
pushing and refraining cases just described, it is plaus-
ible to make an analogy between the moral seriousness of
horrible Samaritanism, such as that hypothetically
exemplified
negligence.
that it is
by Murphy, and the moral seriousness of gross
Laws against negligence embody the judgment
wrong
for others' welfare.
to act without adequate consideration
The idea behind those laws is the
belief that people can mistreat others otherwise than by
malicious action, and that people can, through their
actions and omissions, fail to take seriously other
people's needs. I maintain that even if we reject the
idea of any causal connection between a disregard for
strangers 1 distress and the harm that later befalls them,
there need not be a significant moral difference between
negligently harming people by positive action (or by
failures to exercise a reasonable degree of care) and
deliberately failing to help prevent grave injury or
60
death to them when one can do so at little or no risk and
cost. In short, I see no important moral difference
between Murphy's lounger and a person who causes
another's death through negligence. Indeed, morally
speaking, Murphy's lounger is arguably at least as
culpable as a drunken driver guilty of "involuntary
manslaughter." I said "at least" because Murphy's
lounger, unlike the drunkard, is supposed to be in a
rational, unimpaired state of mind. Murphy himself
regards the hypothetical lounger as "moral slime", but
does not think that he violates the child's rights. I
have some doubts about his comment about rights, but
believe that, however we talk about rights, the conduct
of Murphy's lounger is, again, at least as reprehensible
as that of a drunken motorist who unintentionally kills
someone.
Because someone might reject my analysis of the moral
significance thesis, I shall investigate the restricted
causation claim, according to which causing and (merely)
allowing harm are held to be so conceptually different
that it is thought that only active duties cause harm,
and that nondoings at most simply allow harm to happen.
Let us examine the contention that some nondoings are
causally efficacious.
It is fairly uncontroversial to hold that some
61
flowers died as a result ~f some gardener's neglect. We
commonly attribute harm to someone's neglect or inatten-
tion, particularly when the neglectful people fail to
perform an assigned task that they normally perform.
Describing the general conditions under which nondoings
can be considered efficacious is complex. To begin with,
if there are, as I maintain, harmful nondoings, those
nondoings must be only a species of nondoings, namely,
omissions.
If agent A omitted to do X, certain conditions must,
as Feinberg points out, have been met.53 Naturally, A
must not have done X. Second, A must have had a reasona-
ble opportunity to do X. A must have been able to per-
form X without unreasonable risk or cost to him or
others. Third, A must have had the ability to do X. If
people are so mentally or physically handicapped as to be
incapable of doing X, they cannot qualify as having omit-
ted to do X. Fourth, A must have known that he had a
reasonable opportunity and sufficient ability to do X.
If A does not know how to save drowning B, if A, ~' does not know that there is a rope nearby, A cannot be
said to have omitted to save B. Finally, and as
Feinberg holds, A must be reasonably expected to have
done X because of at least one of the following condi-
tions:
a. A or people in A's position ordinarily do X, or because
b. A had a special opportunity to do X in virtue of his job, his socially assigned role, or his special relationship to B, or because
c. A had a moral obligation to B in virtue of a prior agreement between them, or a promissory commitment, or because
d. for some other reason there is a moral requirement that people in the position A found himself in, do x.54
62
It is important to see that the expectations about
which Feinberg is writing can be either descriptive or
prescriptive. We might, on the basis of induction,
expect that Mr. Jones, who jogs every day at 7 a.m., to
jog this morning. If Jones intentionally fails to jog
this morning, even though he has the ability and the
opportunity, we can say that he omitted to jog. But Mr.
Smith, who never jogs and who cannot in any straightfor-
ward sense be expected to jog, cannot qualify as omitting
to jog, even though he never jogs. Besides descriptive
expectations there are prescriptive expectations, includ-
ing expectations in the form of duties derived from
special roles and relationships. Gardeners, teachers,
babysitters, nurses, and parties to contracts are all
people who are expected to perform certain tasks.
So far the examples given have been uncontroversial.
I think that it is uncontroversial to say that a child
63
was harmed as a result of a babysitter's neglect, or that
flowers died because of a gardener's inattention. I
maintain first that the nondoings satisfying the five
conditions that were listed earlier are causally
efficacious, and second that many of those nondoings will
be morally blameworthy. I say "many" and not "all"
because people (~, Nazis) can omit to perform assigned
tasks that are morally wrong. Further, some omissions,
particularly those based on descriptive expectations, may
not be so related to harm as to be culpable. (Of course,
some omissions will be blameworthy simply because they
are violations of unobjectionable contracts or promises,
and not because of any obvious harm that they produce.)
At any rate, we might consider the following example an
illustration of how an omission might be related to harm
in such a way as to be free of blame.
Suppose that Mr. Jones goes to work on time only or
at least principally because of watching Mr. Smith's
habitual 7 a.m. jog. Let us assume that Mr. Smith does
not know about Mr. Jones's reliance on him, and that for
the ·first time in ten years Mr. Smith, because of
uncharacteristic laziness, omits to jog, and that Mr.
Jones is consequently late. Even if we assume that Mr.
Jones's lateness is catastrophic, it is false that Mr.
64
Smith's omission is blameworthy, because it is not con-
nected to harm in a blameworthy way. Mr. Smith did not
violate any contract or agreement, nor did he fail to
reflect minimal decency. Finally, note that many omis-
sions that would ordinarily be blameworthy may not be
because of excusing conditions, such as innocent mistakes
or insanity.
Someone might accept most of the analysis just given,
but reject Feinberg's condition "d", which maintains that
it is reasonable to expect A to do X if there is a moral
requirement (not derived from role responsibility, con-
tract, or any other agreement) that people in A's
position do X. Presumably a libertarian will reject the
existence of general positive duties, duties to help
others grounded purely in "a common bond of humanity."
Perhaps one of the clearest examples of that duty would
be illustrated in Murphy's story, where someone can save
a stranger's life at no risk and virtually no cost.
(Someone might, as Feinberg notes, object on linguistic
grounds to talking of "duties" without reference to
special roles, offices, and relationships, and talking of
"obligations" without prior voluntary agreements. Like
Feinberg, I see the difficulty as solved by talking of
"moral requirements" to
classifiable as either
cover moral expectations
duties or obligations in
not
the
65
senses intended above.)
My position may be briefly summarized as follows. I
have held that under ce\tain conditions there is a moral
requirement to help a stranger. I have held that, when
people are specially or uniquely situated to prevent, at
little or no risk and cost, immediate danger to life and
limb, they are morally required to do so. I have been
assuming without expressly stating that the requirement
to help the endangered person is not assignable, on the
basis of role responsibilities and special relationships,
to others, such as any paramedics or other professionals
who are on the scene. I have expressed some sympathy for
Feinberg's view that intentional failures to help people
in need of MDS can be a violation of the latter's
rights. I have also held that the distinction between
doing harm and (merely) allowing harm to happen is
neither so clear nor necessarily so significant as it is
often considered by many opponents of good Samaritan laws.
We have now approached the point at which I must
address a possible libertarian response. A libertarian
might contend that I have not established that it is
proper, conceptually speaking, to describe a bad Samari-
tan's omission as partially causing,
some harm. To that objection I
already developed, the other soon to
or contributing to,
have two answers, one
be developed. The
66
first answer is containei in my discussion of the moral
significance thesis, in which I implied that, regardless
of how we analyze the causal status of failures to help
the imperiled, the case for good Samaritan laws can be
grounded in the moral and social importance of prevent-
ing grave physical harm at little or no cost and risk.
The second answer, which I shall now develop, is that
even if someone rejects my and Feinberg's views about the
moral significance thesis., bad Samaritanism can be
plausibly regarded as contributing to harm. My tack will
be to hold that the causal efficacy of nondoings will
hinge on (among other things) the tenability of the ex-
pectations governing positive performance. In short, I
shall argue that, if in a particular case the require-
ments defining omissions are satisfied, and if minimally
decent Samaritanism embodies a reasonable moral expecta-
tion or requirement, then acts of bad Samaritanism can
contribute to harm.
I shall maintain that the antecedent of that condi-
tional clause is fulfilled in cases of bad Samaritanism.
That is to say, I shall argue that cases of bad Samari-
tanism are omissions, and that they are contrary to
r.easonable moral expectations. During the course of my
argument I shall disagree first with Eric Mack, who
rejects the causal efficacy of bad Samaritanism and
67
second (in Chapter Three) with John Harris, who maintains
that all failures to prevent human harm are harmful. I
hope to forge a middle path between libertarianism (at
least as exemplified in Mack) and utilitarianism (and any
other view that places enormous stress on what is some-
times termed "negative responsibility"). My tack when
dealing with utilitarian views of rescue will be to
accept the concept of negative responsibility, but to
reject interpreting it in purely consequentialist terms.
The precise meaning of the last sentence will become
increasingly clear as discussion continues.
The question with which we are now concerned is: "Can
failures to prevent harm be said to be causes of, or
causal factors in, harms, and, if so, under what condi-
tions?" Let us discuss the paradigm we have already
described.
Jeffrie Murphy is lounging poolside, and can save a
child's life simply by reaching down and picking up the
foundering child. The example is one in which a process
has been initiated, by ignorance or accident, as a result
of which someone will drown unless someone else (Murphy)
intervenes. If we assume that Murphy violated a moral
duty (or some other "requirement") by his failure to save
the child, we can describe his failure to save the child
as an omission. Indeed, I think that one can say that
68
the child drowned as a consequence of Murphy's omission,
since the child would not have drowned had Murphy inter-
vened. Murphy's non-intervention was necessary to the
child's death, since but for that non-intervention, the
child would have lived. We have built into the case the
condition that only Murphy is near the child, and that
only he can save the child's life. Given the context
just outlined, it is no exaggeration to say that the
child's life depends on Murphy's actions.
Someone might, however, object. It might be held
that Murphy's failure to help the child cannot be part of
the causal explanation for the child's death, because
even without Murphy's presence, the child would have
died. While it is true that the child would have died
even without Murphy's being on the scene, we must be
careful here. For Murphy was on the scene and quite
capable of preventing the child's death. Given that
Murphy was on the scene, his failure to help was a
necessary condition for the child's death, because his
failure to aid was necessary to the sufficiency of the
other conditions. That is to say, the other conditions
were jointly sufficient only when Murphy's inaction was
added to them, since his help would have saved the
child. In Feinberg's words: "The principle involved is
this: when one has the power to affect events one way or
another depending on one's choice,
are subsequently affected is a
that power was exercised. 11 55
69
then the way events
consequence of the way
While I largely agree with Feinberg's point of view,
I think that his last statement requires qualification to
protect it against Eric Mack's criticism. Mack holds
that the exponent of negative causation cannot avoid
maintaining that any absence of an action (or event) is a
cause of a state of affairs if that action (or event)
would have prevented that state of affairs. Mack is
correct to an extent. That I have the power to prevent
some state of affairs I do not prevent is not by itself
enough to warrant the claim that my nondoing was a causal
factor in the state of affairs I failed to prevent. For
example, even if it is true that I could have prevented a
robbery by blowing up a bank, it does not follow that the
robbery occurred even partly as a result of my failure to
blow up the bank. Feinberg is, however, well aware of
Mack's criticism and, as we have seen, tries to answer it
by appealing to the idea of expectation. Feinberg holds
that only a subset of nondoings can qualify as omissions,
and that only omissions can qualify as effective non-
doings.
Before I elaborate on Feinberg's analysis of omis-
sions, it is important to realize that his claim that bad
70
Samaritanism might well be harmful rests on the claim
that people are (morally) expected to be minimally decent
Samaritans.
about the
Without that moral expectation no conclusion
causal efficacy of a nondoing follows.
Feinberg, however, sometimes gives the impression, inten-
tionally or not, that he believes that the power to pre-
vent some harm is in and of itself enough to warrant the
claim that failure to prevent that harm is causally effi-
cacious. My point is simply that Feinberg's last-men-
tioned statement needs to be qualified. Not all nonpre-
ventions of harm will be harmful, but only those nonpre-
ventions that are uncontroversially contrary to expecta-
tions. The qualification is in line with Feinberg's
analysis of omissions. The upshot is that since, as we
shall further see, the claim that some nondoing is a
causal factor is expectation-dependent, it is impossible
to defend a belief in the causal efficacy of nonprevent-
ings (inactions) without invoking norms or expectations
of some sort.
The preceding remarks imply that, if bad Samari-
tanism causes harm or contributes to it, that will be at
least partly because of a moral norm, namely, the norm
that requires people to behave like minimally decent
Samaritans. Note that I am not denying that bad SAmari-
tanism can contribute to harm; I am simply holding that
71
the tenability of that causal claim depends on the
tenability of a certain moral claim. I shall later (in
Chapter Three) take issue with the claim that the non-
prevention of harm to strangers can be pronounced harmful
without reference to value judgments.
We are now in a position to explain further how
Murphy's failure to help might be viewed as causally
connected to the drowning he failed to prevent. To that
end let me briefly explain some relevant concepts, such
as the concept of a causal factor. (Here I shall
elaborate on some of Joel Feinberg's distinctions.) In
giving a full explanation of how something came about,
people usually mention a large number of events and
states of affairs whose union produced the result to be
explained. Those events and states of affairs are often
called "causal factors."
For example, to explain how a fire started in a
factory, many conditions might be listed. Some will be
pre-existing normal conditions, such as the presence of
oxygen. Other conditions might be pre-existing abnormal
conditions, such as the presence of a gas leak. Still
other conditions might be precipitating events, such as
the lighting of a match. Further, a list of causal
factors might include people's failures to discharge
their duties, as when guards or supervisors neglect to
72
prevent children from playing around volatile gases.
Each one of those conditions could easily figure in an
explanation of a fire. Moreover, many of those condi-
tions might sometimes be considered "a cause" of a fire
and all of them collectively might be regarded as "the
cause" of a fire. Sometimes a condition is so saliently
and importantly involved in the production of an outcome
that we might, for some purposes, regard it alone as "the
cause." The preceding remarks will become increasingly
clear as we turn for the moment back to Murphy's case.
To the degree that Murphy had exclusive and decisive
control over the drowning child's life, his choice to
refrain from saving the child is an important part of an
explanation of the child's death. Since Murphy had the
power to prevent the death, his failure to exercise that
power played an important role in that death. Naturally,
his failure to save the child was not the only causal
factor, since there were other factors, such as the
child's panicking, his inadequate swimming ability, and
of course the pool itself. Even though there were other
causal factors in the child's death, it is nonetheless
true that Murphy's inaction was significant enough to be I
a cause, since it is appropriate to hold that the child
did, after all, die as a result of Murphy's inaction.
While it is true that the child would not have
73
drowned if anyone had saved him, only Murphy's nondoing
qualified as an omission, since only Murphy was in a
position to save the child. Given that he was in a
special position to save the child, and given the moral
requirement of minimally decent Samaritanism, it is
plausible to hold that the child died as a result of
Murphy's inaction, that Murphy's inaction was at least a
cause of the death, or a causal factor in the death.
Omissions, then, can be important causal factors, and
there are a number of causal idioms appropriate to the
description of omissions. None of which, however, is to
deny that some causal idioms cannot, without strain, be
used to describe omissions. Continuing the same line of
thought, we might say that causal idioms that embody a
determinate mode of making things happen cannot usually
be applied without strain to omissions. While B can
drown "as a result" of A's omission to throw a rope, it
is strained to say that A "killed" B, at least in any
straightforward sense. Similarly, if A neglects to tell
B where some antibiotics are, and B dies of infection,
germs, not A, in the most obvious sense "killed" B. None
of which is to deny, what I want to affirm, that B died
at least partly as a result of A's inaction, that A's
inaction or omission was an important causal factor in
the death, and that A might in some circumstances be no
74
better than a direct active killer.
While the last statement just made is extremely
important to the case for good Samaritan laws, I have no
problem with admitting that some causal idioms are not
easily used in referring to omissions. Taking another
example, we might acknowledge that it might seem strained
to say that A "caused" B's death simply by doing nothing,
that A "caused" B's death simply by failing to hand B
some medicine that was out of B's reach. Since the
active verb "to cause" is normally associated with what
might be called "active doings" and the manipulation of
objects, it cannot be used, again without strain, to
describe a situation in which someone simply lets events
run their course. An important point to be made here,
however, is that the inappropriateness of some causal
idioms does not necessarily rule out other causal
idioms. Even if it is true that, strictly speaking, A
cannot "cause" B's death by failing to hand B life-saving
medicine, A's omission might in some contexts be con-
sidered "the cause" of the death, which occurred as "a
result of" A's inactions.
In response to the restricted causation claim, we can
say that some nondoings are in fact omissions and indeed
harmful ones, in the sense that the nondoings are impor-
tant causal factors in the production of harm. Deliber-
75
ately refraining from effecting rescue can, it has been
held, be a way of contributing to the production of
harm. Whether a nondoing is an omission and whether it
is at all harmful depend on a number of conditions that
have been discussed. We can argue that bad Sarnaritanisrn
can contribute to the production of harm if it involves
intentionally refraining from fulfilling a reasonable
moral requirement. I have held that bad Samaritanism is
in fact properly so described.
So far I have tried to defend the claim that bad
Samaritanism may be plausibly regarded as harmful, but I
have
claim.
not addressed specific arguments against that
It is now time to do so. Recently, Eric Mack has
argued against the proposition that nonpreventings can
ever be causes. The principal basis for Mack's argument
is, as we have seen, that if we accept the causal effi-
cacy of nonpreventings, we shall not be able consistently
to reject the "claim that any absence of an action (or
event) is a cause of outcome Y if that action (or event)
would have prevented Y. 11 56 In short, Mack believes that
allowing nonpreventings to have causal status endorses,
by parity of reasoning, wildly promiscuous causal
ascriptions and untenable moral claims.
Mack writes:
Accordingly,
[o]ne wants to of causes that
avoid would
a characterization include among the
causes of, say, Carter's election and hence of everything for which this election is a necessary condition--for example, Brown's failure to assassinate Carter, Carter's not killing himself, Carter's failure to beat his wife in public, the public's not believing that Carter beats his wife, the nonexplosion of the solar system in 1937, the non-collapse of the galaxy in 1936, and so on.57
76
To answer Mack's criticism I shall try to show that
there are non-arbitrary principles by which to invalidate
the proposition that every earlier necessary condition
of an event is a causal factor in the genesis of that
event. Prior necessary conditions are not causes (or
causal factors), in Feinberg's words, when
To
(1) their connection with the outcome ex-emplifies no generalizations or natural laws connecting conditions of their type with outcomes of that type (this applies mainly to actions and events) or when
(2) the connection is so trivial, ob-vious, or remote that it can cast light on no conceivable perplexity, or provide a handle for no conceivable practical purpose, or reveal a stain for no con-ceivable moral inquiry (this applies mainly to inactions and nonevents).58
illustrate the first principle or condition,
Feinberg discusses an example from Hart and Honore. He
describes the example as follows.59 After exceeding the
speed limit for a while, a motorist slowed down and
eventually ran into a tree that happened to fall over and
77
land on top of his car. Had the motorist not been speed-
ing earlier, the tree would not have fallen on the car.
In the circumstance, however, it is implausible to hold
that the earlier speeding caused the accident, since
there is no causal generalization connecting driving at
any given speed with the falling of trees. That is not
to deny that there is a general causal connection between
speeding and accidents, but it is to hold that in the
example in question the earlier speeding is in no way
connected with either the driver's losing control of the
car or any other event causally asociated with car acci-
dents.
Feinberg describes the following example as illustra-
ting another case in which some conditions necessary for
a state of affairs are so remotely connected with that
state of affairs that they cannot be plausibly regarded
as causes or causal factors. He writes
John and Mary Doe move from Denver to Los Angeles when their daughter Gwendolyn is three years old. Fifteen years later she meets George, a boy in her high school class; they fall in love, marry, and produce their offspring, Elbert and Erica. But for her parents' move years earlier, Gwendolyn would never have married George (since she would never have met him). Moreover, Elbert and Erica would never have come into exis-tence, and therefore would not have stolen candy a few yars later from Mr.Economides' grocery store. The
move to Los condition connected
original necessary events, is dentally.60
Angeles, while a for these later to them only inci-
78
The connection between Elbert and Erica's theft and the
Does' move to Los Angeles is so remote that it is im-
plausible to regard the move as part of any ordinary
causal understanding of the theft.
Someone might agree that, while the connnections in
the examples so far can perhaps be excluded as causal,
they do not address those of Mack's examples in which
necessary conditions for some event are expressible in
causal generalizations. Mack argues that since there are
causal connections between public wife-beating and public
disfavor, the theorist of negative causation is committed
to holding that President Carter's failure to beat his
wife in public was a cause of his victory in 1976.
To reply to Mack requires pointing out the contextual
nature of causal explanations, particularly those expla-
nations of human actions. We require causal explan.~:ions
for various purposes, such as allaying puzzlements, dis-
covering factors enabling us to manipulate the environ-
ment (as in engineering), and assigning blame or "stain-
ing" certain causes of harm. Often in setting out causal
explanations we fix our attention on only a fairly small
number of causal factors and cite certain factors
79
as the cause of the event in question. In singling out
only certain causal factors, we pick those factors that
are particularly interesting to us, given our purposes
and concerns.
Sometimes we want an explanation for why some unusual
or surprising event occurred, as when a "teetotaler is
drunk, or an alcoholic sober; a punctual man is tardy, or
a dilatory man early; it rains in the dry season, or it
fails to rain in the wet season. 11 61
The point to seize here is that causal attributions
are often if not generally tied to expectations, either
descriptive or prescriptive. On the basis of experience
we know that, given the usual and expected amount of
rain, there will, under certain conditions, be no
famine. Further, droughts and famines are linked in
familiar causal generalizations, so that we can gain
insight into the genesis of a famine by discovering that
there has been an unusual shortage of rainfall in the
famine-stricken area. On the basis of professional
gardeners' role responsibilities, we expect gardeners
regularly to attend to the gardens that they are culti-
vating. If they normally discharge their duties but
neglect on a number of occasions to give flowers a vital
amount of water, we can attribute the death of the
flowers to their neglect.
80
We often explain the origin of a state of affairs by
reference to faulty human action, in which people ob-
viously take an interest. Since faulty human actions are
usually abnormal (i.e., are departures from what is ex-
pected descriptively and/or prescriptively), a derelic-
tion of duty, when it is a deviation from a routine, is
often a prime candidate for causal citation.
Admittedly, for anything like an adequate understand-
ing of the diversity of causal explanations we have to
realize that such explanations are highly varied, and
that not all causal explanations need employ a list of
causal factors. Sometimes, as in scientific explana-
tions, people want to know why natural regularities
occur, why, ~-, flowers bloom in the spring. "In such
cases we require long stories involving the descriptions
of diverse states of affairs and the invocation of
various laws of nature."62 Further, sometimes causal
explanations are given or sought not so much for allaying
puzzlements as for manipulating the environment. Fein-
berg writes: "Engineers and other practical persons may
be concerned to eliminate events of the kind that occas-
ioned the inquiry if they are harmful or to produce more
of them if they are beneficial. In either case, when
they seek 'the cause', they seek the causal factor that
has a handle on it ... that they can get hold of and manip-
81
ulate. 11 63 Finally, and as suggested earlier, causal ex-
planations are often sought to assign blame to human
actions.
In summary, causal explanations are of various kinds
and for various purposes. They are largely interest-rela-
tive, in the sense that the nature and the scope of
explanation will often focus on only the most salient
factors necessary for understanding events, controlling
them, or blaming people.
Given what has just been said about causal explana-
tions, one might argue against the selection of Carter's
failure publicly to beat his wife as a causal factor in
his becoming President. For if we have no reason for
thinking that Carter has ever beaten his wife, his
nonbeatings do not explain or illuminate his election,
even though the nonbeatings (at least the absence of
highly visible public beatings) could be said in a sense
to have been necessary for his election. We could, how-
ever, imagine a context in which a politician's failure
to beat his wife was causally illuminating in understand-
ing his election to office. We can imagine two politi-
cians (A and B) running for office with similar ideas,
backgrounds, and degrees of popularity. Near the end of
the campaign it is revealed--to the profound shock of the
whole town--that politician A regularly beats his wife.
Let us suppose, to make matters interesting, that
82
politician B was suspected before the election of regu-
larly beating his wife, but was rightly cleared of that
suspicion. In the context just sketched, it makes sense
to cite B's failure to beat his wife as a causal factor
in explaining his victory, which, let us suppose, was of
a wide margin. To cite B's failure to beat his wife as a
causal factor in his victory, we must imagine a context
in which B's nonbeatings might be seen as failures to do
what he is in some sense expected to do. Given that
neither Carter nor anyone else running against him was
suspected of beating his wife, Carter's nonbeating is
causally unilluminating as part of an explanation for his
election.
Feinberg gives the following example to help distin-
guish necessary conditions simpliciter from causal con-
ditions. He describes a case in which a windstorm causes
B's barn to collapse.64 The wind was not only a neces-
sary condition for the collapse of the barn but also an
illuminating causal factor that is connected in our
understanding with generalizations linking winds of cer-
tain velocities with collapses of buildings of certain
structures.65 Feinberg contrasts that example with the
following one.66 Because the damage to the barn was too
expensive to repair, the owners of the barn sell their
farm and move from Iowa to Los Angeles, where their
83
daughter fifteen years later meets a boy whom she marries
and by whom she has some children. While it might be
true that the daughter would not be rearing a California
family were it not for the collapsed barn and the de-
structive wind, the wind was not a cause of the later
events running into the endless or indefinite future. As
Feinberg says, the destructive wind cannot explain why
the family's grandchildren get good or bad grades, nor
does the wind figure in any reliable generalizations
linking windstorms with love affairs.67 In short, the
wind in the example is too remotely and tenuously con-
nected with the grandchildren's grades to explain them.
The point to seize here is that the windsto can be a
necessary condition for some later events without being
in any clear sense a cause of those events. At the very
least we can say that it is possible to give an illumina-
ting explanation of, say, the grandchildren's grades
without mentioning the windstorm.
Nonevents, like nondoings, can be either (i) neces-
sary causal conditions for happenings or (ii) noncausal
necessary conditions. As an example of (i), consider the
earlier case of an unexr cted decline in rainfall and the
resultant famine. The unexpected decline in rainfall
helps explain the famine. As said earlier, droughts and
famines are causally linked. Further, it is plausible to
84
hold in certain circumstanes that, if the rain had fallen
in the expected amount, there would have been no famine.
Feinberg says: "Failure of an event to occur when it
could reasonably have been expected explains why an unex-
pected and unusual outcome resulted. In this repect the
nonoccurrence of the rain is analogous to those inactions
which are omissions. 11 68
While the absence of rain can shed some light on a
famine, the non-explosion of the solar system in 1937
(Mack's example) is unilluminating in a scenario of
Carter's election, because there was no reason to expect
that explosion. Further, there are no puzzlements that
the non-explosion of the solar system in 1937 will
straightforwardly answer. Feinberg says:
Even someone who expected the world to end in 1937 would not find its failure to do so added any to his understanding of why Carter and not Ford was elected. There are no familiar generalizations connecting vast astronomical nonevents with the relative popularity of various types of political candidates and plat-forms.69
I believe with Feinberg that omissions, such as
Jones's failure to rescue Smith, can be causally effica-
cious without its being true that "every absence of an
action (or event) which would have prevented Smith's sub-
sequent death counts just as much as a cause of that
85
death as any other. n70 · For a person who accepts the
possibility of negative causation need not be committed
to the unreasonable proposition that any imaginable
nondoing or nonevent that could have prevented some
(actual) state of affairs is a cause of that state of
affairs.
I want to turn now to a brief examination of how Mack
tries to answer the plausible claim that some forms of
inactivity can result in injury, as when A contracts with
B to save him should the waters in which B swims prove
dangerous. Mack will allow for omissions to be effective
only when they are omissions to discharge some specially
generated positive duty. Agent A would have a positive
duty to save B from drowning if,~·, A threw B into
dangerous waters (against B's wishes), or A coerced B
into the water at gunpoint, or A contracted with B to
save B if the waters proved dangerous. 71 What Mack is
doing is advancing morally and legally unexceptionable
cases in which someone, A, by his voluntary actions,
generates a special positive duty to aid someone else,
B. Accordingly, Mack writes:
Such a prior causal role account of the emergence of positive duties helps ex-plain why one might want to say ... that it is specifically when A's inactivity in-volves a violation of B's rights that A's omission causes injury to B. For, on such a prior causal role account of positive duties, when A violates a
positive duty to B there has been some (prior) act of A which does eventually result in B's loss. When A has violated some positive duty to B we can say that A's inaction completes the causation of B's harm, set in motion by A's prior actions ... But if we do not want mislead-ingly to shift attention away from this A's prior actions, it would be better to say that this A's subsequent inaction allows the completion of A's causation of injury to B. A current "duty to care" simply is the form which the duty not to harm takes within a context such that harm will ensue from A's past act unless A intervenes now. When the duty is vio-lated, it is the prior endangering act which causes the harm.72
86
Later Mack writes:
In such cases [i.e., cases of failures to discharge special positive duties] what is crucial for determining a person's liability for inaction is the causal background of the perilous conditions, not a sui generis positive duty which somehow appears when individuals confront perilous conditions that they can modi-fy. 73
Mack's strategy is clear. First, like a good liber-
tarian, he wants to tie legal responsibility to the
causation of harm. Second, and in accordance with his
libertarianism, he wants to restrict (conceptually) all
production of harm to "positive" actions, such as rape,
theft, battery or failures to perform unexceptionable
special positive duties. Third, and again in keeping
with his libertarianism, he wants to reject the
87
proposition that intentional failures to effect rescue in
good Samarian situations produce harm. I agree with
Mack's contention that failures to discharge the positive
duties he mentions constitute violations of people's
rights and are, and ought to be, punishable by law. I
also agree that the failures he mentions are in some
plausible sense harms. But where I disagree with Mack is
in his contention that failures to act as minimally
decent Samaritans cannot be plausibly regarded as harming
people or in any way violating their rights. It is well
to remember that the crux of Mack's argument against
regarding bad Samaritanism as harm-producing is the
proposition that so regarding bad Samaritanisrn commits
one to wildly promiscuous causal citations in which any
imaginable non-doing or non-event that could prevent a
state-of-affairs must be regarded as a cause of that
state-of-affairs. Against Mack I have maintained that
theorists of negative causation can appeal to non-ar-
bitrary principles by which to limit causal attributions
to reasonable bounds.
I want now to argue that Mack's view of positive
duties is at times as inescapably normative as any view
of negative causation. We have seen that Mack's strategy
is to hold that any putative case of negative causation
can be ultimately resolved into a case of positive
causation.
88
"Elsewhere I have defended the view that if A
has a positive duty to B to do X, it will be because of
A's causal role in B's being in a position such that harm
will ensue for B unless A does X. "7 4 My view is that for
Mack to give his account of positive duties he will have
to resort to a move he will not allow theorists of nega-
tive causation, namely, an appeal to moral norms. Let me
explain.
As we have just seen, Mack wants to ground positive
duties in voluntary actions. Specifically, he holds
that, if A has a positive duty to B, it will be because
of A's actions, which will involve A's putting Bin a
position such that harm will ensue unless A prevents it.
To maintain his thesis, Mack will have to be unacceptably
partisan in describing A's causal role, as I shall now
illustrate. Suppose that A and Bare acquaintances, and
that A entices B to go swimming with him in a river where
there happen to be no other swimmers. Suppose further
that if A had not enticed B to go swimming in the river,
B would not have gone. Suppose finally that B, who is
not a good swimmer, founders and calls for A, who was
never particularly fond of B and who therefore ignores
B's screams and calmly watches B drown. Let us assume
that A engaged in no contract to help B, made no threats
to B, and in no way incapacitated B. I have sketched a
89
situation in which A played a clear causal role in B's
being in a position such that harm will ensure for B
unless A does X, i.e., unless A saves B from drowning.
Let us contrast the example just described with the
following example. Suppose B goes to the same river
described above and spots C, who is a stranger. Suppose
further that B contracts with C to save B if B begins to
drown. Let us suppose still further that B would swim in
the dangerous waters even if no one else were present.
In this case it is, strictly speaking, false to say that
C, in any clear sense, was causally responsible for plac-
ing Bin a precarious situation. If Mack believes that C
is morally obligated to help B, and that A (in our last
example) is not morally obligated to help B, then his
position requires not so much citing causal differences
between examples as appealing to some moral norm expres-
sing the importance of keeping one's contracts. I make
that claim because, from a non-moral point of view, the
causal connection between A's enticement of Band B's
drowning is clearer and more straightforward than the
(causal?) connection between C's contract with Band B's
being placed in a position in which he will drown unless
C helps him.
Even if the libertarian could consistently maintain
that A is morally obligated to B because of A's use of
enticement, the libertarian
C's causal role in B's death
prescriptive expectation, in
that people should keep their
90
will have trouble explaining
without relying on some
this case the expectation
contracts. For B would
have drowned even if Chad not promised to save him. My
point is that Mack, in holding that violations of special
positive duties can produce harm, is appealing to moral
expectations no less than an exponent of negative causa-
tion. The most obvious difference between Mack's appeal
and, say, Feinberg's appeal is that Mack is appealing to
moral expectations that have already been legally ex-
pressed within Anglo-American law. Mack's position is
then not morally neutral.
I believe that any reasonable analysis of omissions
and their causal status will have to rely on some idea of
descriptive and prescriptive expectations. It is plausi-
ble to hold that a relatively small class of nondoings
(omissions) can produce harm. Such a position will rely
on some idea of expectations, but that reliance is unob-
jectionable. Where legitimate controversy lies is in the
nature and scope of the expectations. We have no hesi-
tancy in attributing the death of some flowers to the
inattention of the professional gardener in charge,
because the role responsibilities of professional
gardeners are uncontroversial. But suppose someone
91
maintains that the United States government is causally
responsible for all the overpopulation in the Third World
because and only because the government has not steri-
lized those starving people against their will. That
claim is highly contentious because there are no clear
descriptive or prescriptive expectations on which it
could be based. Indeed, there are, if anything, moral
expectations contrary to any prescription calling for
systematic compulsory sterilization.
Both Feinberg and I think that from the standpoint of
both received and critical morality there are fairly un-
controversial moral norms requiring Samaritanism. The
moral norms in question condemn failures to prevent grave
injury or death at minimal risk and cost. In Feinberg's
words: "The presumptive case for bad Samaritan statutes
rests on the social importance of avoiding, at
costs, serious harms to personal
claim that
interests,
imperiled
reasonable
and the
individ-plausibility of the moral
uals have a right to be saved by those who can do so
without unreasonable risk, cost, or inconvenience. 11 75
Like Feinberg, I believe that good Samaritan statutes can
be reconciled with the harm principle, or at least the
harm principle supplemented by a principle requiring the
prevention of easily preventable grave harm. (I shall
explain the basis of that supplementation soon.)
92
For reasons I have already discussed I believe that
in good Samaritan situations (intentional) failure to
effect rescue is a way of causing harm. If I am right,
good Samaritan laws can be based on some fairly straight-
forward version of the harm principle. If my causal
analysis of omissions is incorrect, then an exponent
could argue for what Feinberg takes to be a modified
version of the harm principle. 76 For if "not-prevent-
ings" are only sometimes as morally serious as harmings,
then someone might argue for Feinberg's expanded liber-
ty-limiting principle:
It is always a good reason in support of criminal legislation that it is necessary either to prevent people from harming (causing harm to) others or to get them to make reasonable efforts""'" to prevent others from being harmed. It is especially clear that the distinction between harming and not-preventing is morally insignificant in precisely those cases that would be covered by bad Samaritan statutes, where the effort required is minimal and intention, motivation, and degree of harm are the same as in the corresponding case of active causation.77
Most people would, I believe, concede that it is
reasonable for the law to have as a general goal the
prevention of harm. Some people will, though, hold that
where the harm is not "actively caused" but the product
of omissions, the law must be careful to avoid unreasona-
93
bly limiting personal liberty. While I agree with the
concern about liberty, I believe that there are princi-
pled ways of so restricting the requirement to prevent
the grave harm involved in good Samaritan emergencies
that the limitation of liberty will be reasonable. Mini-
mally decent Samaritans will be required to prevent grave
injury or death only in situations in which they can do
so at little or no risk and cost and in which no profes-
sional rescuer or anyone else is adequately effecting
rescue. In short, minimally decent Samaritans will be
required to prevent grave injury or death in situations
in which there are no other effective ways of preventing
the harm.
Although I think that I have plausibly answered the
most influential arguments against good Samaritan laws,
there are people who maintain that minimal duties of
rescue are morally unsatisfactory because they pitch
duties at too low a level, and do not require enough
effort and sacrifice from people. In response to those
people I shall soon turn to examining the case for
extensive duties of rescue in Chapter Three, where I
shall evaluate the arguments of John Harris and Peter
Singer.
IV. Since my position on good Samaritan laws resembles
94
the position of Joel Feinberg, from whom I have borrowed
some ideas, it is well to summarize the respects in which
my view resembles and differs from his. I shall first
discuss the similarities and then discuss the differ-
ences. As should, I hope, be clear, I basically agree
with Feinberg's case for good Samaritan laws. Like him,
I believe that the most influential arguments against
good Samaritan laws are unconvincing, and that the laws
will follow from either the harm principle or (less
controversially) a supplemented harm principle, requiring
the prevention of grave physical harm in situations in
which that prevention entails little or no risk and
cost. Also like Feinberg, I believe and have argued that
failures to act as minimally decent Samaritans can be as
morally serious as the "direct" and deliberate harmings
of "positive" actions.
My case for good Samaritan laws does, however, differ
from that of Feinberg in the emphasis and coverage of
certain issues. For example, I supplemented his dis-
cussion of libertarianism by directly attacking as logi-
cally inconsistent a popular libertarian critique of good
Samaritan laws. My tack was to enlarge on Feinberg's
analysis of omissions and to criticize in detail Eric
Mack's specific argument against negative causation. By
outlining a theory of negative causation, I tried to
95
answer Eric Mack's criticisms, and tried to give reason
for rejecting his contention that all plausible "duties
to care" are ultimately simply duties not to harm those
whom we owe special treatment because of our special
relations to them.
Unlike Feinberg in his discussion of libertarian
views of rescue in his book, The Moral Limits of the Law,
Vol. 1 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1984), I have
spent a good deal of time describing and criticizing the
libertarian assumption that, by invoking the ideas of
contracts and special relations, the libertarian can give
a value-neutral definition of" harmful omissions." Fur-
ther, I emphasized more than Feinberg that whether bad
Samaritanism can be plausibly regarded as harmful depends
on the normative claim that we are morally required to
act as minimally decent Samaritans. If A is morally
required to throw a rope to B, who is drowning, and A
deliberately refrains from throwing the rope, it is, I
have argued, plausible to hold that B drowned at least
partly as a result of A's failure to throw the rope.
Finally, my discussion of good Samaritan laws differs
from that of Feinberg in that I plan to devote (in the
next section) more attention to the task of reasonably so
defining the moral requirement to prevent harm as to
avoid countenancing over-restrictive paternalistic laws
96
or over-extensive duties of rescue.
V. I must now discuss the issue of legal paternalism.
The issue of paternalism arises because I have maintained
that it is proper for the law to prevent harm, even when
the harm is neither deliberately nor negligently caused.
Legal paternalists argue that the law should prevent not
only harm to others but also harm to oneself, i.e.,
self-inflicted harms. Some legal paternalists try to
justify paternalism as "protecting" or "rescuing" people
from themselves. I shall now argue for a highly quali-
fied principle of legal paternalism.
While almost everyone agrees that the law ought to be
aimed at deterring A from deliberately or negligently
harming B, people argue over whether A ought to be
legally required to prevent harm to B that A in no way
initiates. Typically, in discussions of good Samarita-
nism it is assumed that the endangered person wants to be
helped. I too have made that assumption, and have argued
that the law may properly require rescue, even when the
potential rescuer has not initiated the peril. The ques-
tion now arises: If the law ought to be concerned with
the prevention of harm that is neither deliberately nor
negligently caused, should the law be concerned with
preventing a person from harming
viously talking about paternalism, by
himself?
which
We are ob-
I mean in-
97
terference with people's freedom to protect them from
injuring or otherwise harming themselves. Paternal is-
tic reasons appeal to people's welfare, needs, interests,
or happiness. Some laws often cited as motivated by
largely if not entirely paternalistic concerns are (i)
laws forbidding suicide or attempted suicide, (ii) laws
forbidding women and children to work at certain jobs,
(iii) laws forbidding people to swim in areas where there
are no lifeguards, (iv) laws requiring people to contri-
bute to their own retirement, and (v) laws forbidding the
use of certain drugs.
Any contemporary discussion of paternalism should
look seriously at the views of John Stuart Mill, who
generally opposed paternalistic laws except for backward
societies, children, and presumably retardates. Gerald
Dworkin expresses Mill's case against paternalism as
follows:
1. Since restraint is an evil the burden of proof is on those who propose such re-straint.
2 .. Since the conduct which is being sidered is purely self-regarding, normal appeal to the protection of interests of others is not available.
con-the the
3. Therefore we have to consider whether reasons involving reference to the indi-vidual's own good, happiness, welfare, or interests are sufficient to overcome the burden of justification.
4. We either cannot advance the interests by compulsion, or the attempt to do so involves evils which outweigh the good done.
5. Hence the promotion of the individual's own interests does not provide a suffi-cient warrant for the use of compulsion. 78
98
Although the argument is fairly persuasive, it is not
without difficulties, located largely in premise "4." but
also in premise "2.". Some legal paternalists might
reject the view that there are many practices or habits
that are "purely self-regarding." These objectors might
argue that most people have friends and family who care
about their welfare and who will be at the very least
emotionally hurt by any harms befalling those they care
about. Although I do agree that happiness often depends,
at least to some degree, on the well-being of people whom
we like or love, the paternalist who argues, on the
ground just mentioned, that almost all acts and habits
are other-regarding is possibly opening a Pandora's box.
I make that claim because the paternalist would then be
suggesting the possibility that the law ought, insofar as
it is able, to criminalize all risky or otherwise impru-
dent acts. Mountain-climbing, race-car driving, ciga-
rette-smoking, and excessive drinking are all risky and
sometimes dangerous. Supposedly in the United States
alone at least 300,000 people die annually because of
99
habi t.ual
broadly
smoking. If we define "other-regarding" as
as has been suggested, then we would be required
to say that, by harming themselves, cigarette-smokers are
indirectly harming their friends and family members.
Were Mill living today he would probably hold that
people have a right to harm themselves by smoking, pro-
vided that their smoking does not directly harm others.
If, as seems likely, smoking can be dangerous to non-
smoking by-standers who inhale the smoker's fumes, Mill
would consider the possibility of laws restricting the
practice of, say, smoking in public buildings. My point
is that, while the distinction between self-regarding and
other-regarding
times useful,
conduct is
particularly
not
for
always
drawing
clear,
certain
it is at
other
distinctions, such as the distinction between private and
public cigarette-smoking. Further, if we refuse to
recognize the distinction, or draw it so broadly as to
make nearly all acts and practices other-regarding, we
could limit freedom without sufficient cause. For a
person who cares about individual freedom should also
care about allowing people to take risks, at least those
risks that are the product of well-informed choice and
are not obviously endangering others. The taking of
risks and the making of mistakes are, after all, often
necessary to moral growth.
100
Even if we waived considerations of autonomy and
freedom, we should recognize that the criminalization of
all risky and imprudent behavior (including such behavior
as smoking, race car driving, mountain-climbing, and
candy-eating) would most likely be extremely undesira-
ble. It would create an enormous amount of frustration,
and it would place enormous burdens on an already over-
taxed criminal justice system, in which courts and
prisons are enormously overcrowded.
In thinking about paternalistic laws, it is well to
emphasize the following three contentions. First, since
coercion is generally undesirable, it should be restric-
ted to cases in which there are no equally effective non-
coercive ways of achieving the same goals. Second, and
relatedly, we should not forget what Mill emphasized,
that there are many informal ways of regulating imprudent
conduct, such as giving advice, presenting people with
good role models, teaching them, criticizing them, and
even ostracizing them. Third, and finally, we should be
wary of paternalistic laws because a great deal of op-
pression has been "justified" by appeals to paternalism.
Consider,~' the historical treatment of women and
slaves.
Given that some sort of distinction between self-re-
garding and other-regarding practices is sustainable,
101
Mill's case will rest basically on premise "4.", holding
that paternalism is either impracticable or disutile.
"Mankind are greater gainers by suffering each other to
live as seems good to themselves than by compelling each
other to live as seems good to the rest. 11 79 Mill be-
lieved that agent A is nearly always the best judge of
his own interest and welfare, and nearly always a better
judge than agent B, a legislator who has probably never
met A. Of each normal adult Mill had this to say:
[W]ith respect to his own feelings and circumstances the most ordinary man or woman has means of knowledge immeasurably surpassing those that can be possessed by anyone else. The interference of society to overrule his judgment and purposes in what only regards himself must be grounded on general presumptions which may be altogether wrong and, even if right, are as likely as not to be mis-applied to individual cases, by persons no better acquainted with the circum-stances of such cases than those who look at them merely from without.BO
Mi 11 al so con tended that ''the strongest of al 1 the argu-
ments against the interference of the public with purely
personal conduct is that, when it does interfere, the
odds are that it interferes wrongly and in the wrong
place. 11 81
Mill believed that most people want, almost in-
stinctively, to regulate others' conduct, even when that
conduct in no way harms others. He drew some historical
102
examples from religion, such as the Puritanical banning
of theatre and other public amusements and the Islamic
dietary prohibitions, which have the
believed, plausibly, that societies,
theocratic, will almost naturally
liberty much more than is required for
harm.
force of law. He
particularly if
favor restricting
the prevention of
Mill's case against legal paternalism rests largely
but not wholly on a fairly straightforward appeal to the
principle of utility. I say "not wholly", because Mill
in On Liberty appeared to attach inherent value to indi-
viduality and personal autonomy. The utilitarian case
against legal paternalism has sometimes been attacked--
believe it or not--by some utilitarians. Indeed, four-
teen years after the publication of On Liberty, the legal
scholar Sir James Fitzjames Stephen held, in Liberty,
Equality, Fraternity, that he saw no good evidence for
believing that most people are so prudent that they can-
not be helped by paternalistic laws. Stephen accepted
the principle of utility, but held that it is possible if
not probable that utilitarianism might require legal
paternalism, at least for some conduct. Interestingly,
H.L.A. Hart, who is obviously in sympathy with the spirit
of Mill's thought, believes that Mill reposed an unrea-
listic degree of confidence in the prudence of the
103
average person. Hart believes that Mill endowed the
average person with the psychology of a rational "middle-
aged man whose desires are relatively fixed, not liable
to be artificially stimulated by external influences; who
knows what he wants and what gives him satisfaction or
happiness; and who pursues these things when he can. 11 82
I have suggested that Mill's esteem for liberty
rested largely but perhaps not wholly on utilitarian
grounds. He believed that, generally speaking, a society
that encourages a high degree of diversity, pluralism,
and personal freedom will, other things being equal, tend
to be happier than a society in which diversity and
freedom are condemned. He believed that, if people are
to be happy, they must allow for the free pursuit of
ideas and encourage personal freedom and diverslty.
Mill, though, did not, many will argue, rest his anti-
paternalism on purely utilitarian grounds; for his
respect for liberty and individuality does not appear to
be defended on exclusively utilitarian grounds.
While Mill probably thought that a tolerance for
individuality would, at least in the long-run, promote
social utility, it is perhaps fair to say that his esteem
for liberty sometimes appears to be at least as much a
respect for its inherent value as a concern for social
utility. Editor Gertrude Himmelfarb writes:
The hope for the future, Mill concluded, and clearly the purpose of his own book [On Libe~], was to convince the intel-ligent part of the public of the value of individuality~ se--"to see that it is good there sliouI-a- be differences, even though not for the better, even though, as it may appear to them, some should be for the worse. 11 83
104
As just suggested, Mill sometimes appeared to attach
inherent value to the ideals of autonomy and individual-
ity. Thus Dworkin writes:
When Mill states that "there is a part of the life of every person who has come to years of discretion, within which the in-dividuality of that person ought to reign uncontrolled either by any other person or by the public collectively," he is saying something about what it means to be a person, an autonomous agent. It is because coercing a person for his own good denies this status as an independent entity that Mill objects to it and in such absolute terms. To be able to choose is a good that is independent of the wisdom of what is chosen. A man's "mode of laying out his existence is the best, not because it is the best in itself, but because it is his own mode." It is the privilege and proper condition of a human being, arrived at the maturity of his faculties, to use and interpret experience in his own way.84
That there is a non-utilitarian strain in Mill's
respect for liberty and his antipathy toward paternalism
is further supported by his opposition to the practice of
selling oneself into slavery. For "the reason for not
interfering, unless for the sake of others, with a
105
person's voluntary acts, is consideration for his liber-
ty.1185 Mill held that, while the basis for non-inter-
ference is autonomy, selling oneself into slavery is an
act designed to destroy one's autonomy. "He is no longer
free; but is thenceforth in a position which has no lon-
ger the presumption in its favor that would be afforded
by his voluntarily remaining in it. The principle of
freedom cannot require that he should be free not to be
free."86
Since from a utilitarian point of view it is diffi-
cult to see how relinquishing one's freedom can be for-
ever ruled out~ priori, it is tempting to interpret Mill
as at least sometimes suggesting that the values of
autonomy and individuality are inherently significant and
worthy of an esteem not expressible in purely utilitarian
terms. Part of the difficulty in interpreting Mill
doubtless lies in his broad understanding of "utility".
For he saw utility as based on what he regarded as the
permanent interests of man as a progressive being. It is
well to entertain the possibility that Mill's understand-
ing of utility was so liberal that he might have thought
that some ideals often inherently valued, such as auto-
nomy and individuality, are valuable also for broadly
utilitarian reasons. Whatever Mill thought, it is not
clear whether his unaccommodating passion for liberty
106
and his animus toward paternalism can be justified by any
straightforward appeals to social utility.
At any rate, I want to develop what some people take
to be Mill's non-utilitarian esteem for personal autono-
my, because I believe that it is reasonable to attach a
sig- nificance to autonomy that cannot be completely cap-
tured in utilitarian thinking, which might require ad-
justing one's valuation of autonomy in some measure to
the current Zeitgeist. Against some views of utilitar-
ianism someone might argue that expressions of autonomy
and individuality are always important, even, or
especially, in societies where the individualist
diminishes utility. In examining the scope for a prin-
ciple of legal paternalism, I believe that a concern for
social utility must be seen as different from, and
possibly competitive with, the value of personal auto-
nomy. We should look at both the consequences of pre-
venting self-inflicted harms and the value of free though
perhaps imprudent actions.
I want now to gesture toward a highly qualified
principle of legal paternalism. To that end I want to
discuss cases for which paternalism is clearly warran-
ted. First, let us look at the situation of children.
Parents not only may but also should restrict their
107
children's liberty in order to protect them. Because of
lack of experience and knowledge, children are often una-
ware of both the dangerous consequences of their actions
and the value of deferred gratification. Children must
be so trained as to develop healthful habits, so that
they will be able to fend for themselves. The older and
the more experienced the child is, the less justification
there is for paternalistic interference. Ideally, chil-
dren should be given an ever-increasing degree of freedom
as they mature so that they will be able to handle an in-
creasing degree of responsibility. Failure to give chil-
dren an increasing degree of freedom and responsibility
as they grow will almost certainly produce immature
adults.
The second group of people for whom paternalistic
interference is clearly warranted will be the mentally
retarded. While the mentally retarded should be given a
degree of freedom proportional to their capacity for
handling it, there is a case for paternalistically
interfering to some degree in the lives of the mentally
retarded people who are demonstrably incapable of sur-
viving by themselves. The third group of people for whom
paternalism is appropriate will be those people who are
inflicting serious harm on themselves in mental condi-
tions in which they are almost certainly unaware of what
they are doing. Consider a case in which a man under the
108
influence of LSD begins mutilating himself for no
apparent reason. He might think that he is an orange, or
be responding to the sadistic suggestions of a crowd of
on-lookers taking advantage of his abnormally suggestible
state. Because of their abnormal condition, people on
LSD might well have no idea of the exact nature or conse-
quences of their conduct. If people on LSD want to jump
out of windows because they believe that they can fly, it
seems reasonable to prevent them from jumping and indeed
legally to require that prevention in cases in which
there is little or no risk to potential rescuers. For we
can reasonably believe that, if those people knew exactly
what they were doing and the consequences of their
action, they would almost certainly not want to jump.
The further we move from cases involving pre-rational
mental conditions (i.e., cases involving children) or
clearly dangerously irrational mental conditions (e.g.,
mental conditions resulting from chemically altered
states), the more difficult it is to justify legal pa-
ternalism, with one exception. The exception will be
those cases in which a rational person contracts with
others to regulate his conduct--forcibly if necessary--
during times in which his judgment will be so clouded
that he will (in his own eyes) need to be compelled to
act reasonably. The classic and indeed classical case is
109
that of Odysseus, who commanded his men to tie him to the
mast to protect him against the enchanting songs of the
Sirens. More mundanely, a phobic person might ask a
friend to prevent him forcibly from escaping the object
of his fear so that he can conquer the fear. More po-
litically, an electorate, as Gerald Dworkin says, might
give a mandate to legislators to pass laws, such as those
governing tax increases, that the electorate may, at the
time of enforcement, find necessary but unpalatable.87
The rationale
belief that it
for the exceptions
is reasonable for
just mentioned is the
people to relinquish
some of their freedom for reasons of prudence.
Controversy arises when adults who suffer from no
mental deficiencies or abnormalities desire to do what
While most people consider imprudent if not irrational.
most of us may believe that it is normally irrational
people to refuse life-saving medical treatment
for
on
religious grounds, the Christian Scientist might object
to the State's compelling him to receive a blood trans-
fusion. Although I regard the Christian Scientist's view
of medicine as imprudent and indeed irrational, I believe
that an adult has a right to refuse medical treatment on
religious grounds. Acute controversy might arise when a
young child of a Christian Scientist requires a blood
transfusion to live. Although I normally oppose State
110
interference with parenting, I think that a case can be
made for approving of State intervention in cases con-
cerning children who may be too young fully to understand
the nature and gravity of their actions. The matter here
is somewhat tricky, partly because, if the Christian
Scientist parents are effective at socializing their
children, their children could well grow up to share
their parents' attitude toward medicine. Someone might,
however, argue that in a case of life and death the State
has no business assuming that children will eventually,
as adults, adopt the same highly imprudent attitudes as
their parents. Children's religious attitudes do after
all sometimes change, particularly as a result of formal
education. Further, regardless of what attitudes
children might have when they mature, many children,
particularly young children, will not be able fully to
understand the nature and gravity of their actions.
Gerald Dworkin considers another case in which people
may make choices on the basis of what many if not most
people would consider an irrational weighing of values:
the wearing of seat belts.88 He maintains that it is
irrational for the average person, with average desires,
consistently to avoid wearing seat belts simply because
of the slight inconvenience of wearing them. He thinks
that people can attach too much weight to the incon-
111
venience of wearing seat belts for one of two reasons:
Either the people irrationally disvalue a small degree of
inconvenience over the value of safety and freedom from
harm, or they realize intellectually, but not viscerally
and emotionally, the risks and probabilities involved.
Dworkin puts himself into the latter class of people,
who, through weakness of will, ignore the dictates of
their intellects. Note that in the latter class people
realize that it is wise to wear seat belts, but they do
not act in accordance with their better judgment. The
case of the adult Christian Scientist who refuses the
blood transfusion is a case in which someone's valua-
tional weighing obviously contradicts normal prudence.
Someone might argue that it is easier to justify pater-
nalism in the seat belt case than in the blood trans-
fusion case, because State interference in the blood
transfusion case is a direct interference with a person's
actual desires and preferences that are deeply rooted in
his values. Although the failure to wear seat belts is
usually much less dangerous than the failure to receive a
possibly life-saving blood transfusion, interference in
the transfusion case is a serious infringement of some-
one's autonomy. (Here is a case in which the values of
autonomy and utility might well clash.) We have been
assuming that the Christian Scientist's attitude toward
112
medicine is fairly fixed, and that the attitude partly
defines the kind of person he takes himself to be. I
should add that, while I think that interference in the
seat belt case is less problematic than in the case of
the Christian Scientist, I consider interference in both
cases problematic.
In discussing legal paternalism we should bear in
mind a point that I have already made and that was em-
phasized by J.S. Mill, namely, that there are many infor-
mal and non-coercive ways of influencing people's be-
havior. A respect for autonomy implies a presumptive
repugnance for coercion. I want to argue that people
sometimes if not often have a right to take risks, even
when they are imprudent risks. Let me explain.
Race-car driving, mountain-climbing, and habitual
cigarette-smoking are all dangerous and sometimes fatal.
It is highly imprudent for the average person to smoke
habitually. Nonetheless, it is reasonable to allow
people voluntarily to increase their risk of lung cancer
and a number of other diseases. Since most adults in
this society know that they are endangering their health
by habitual smoking, I think that it would be difficult
to justify interference with their smoking in private or
among consenting adults. For we are talking here about
the principally self-regarding actions of normal adults
113
who are fairly well aware of the nature and likely conse-
quences of their conduct.
Qualifications about "normal adults" who are engaging
in "self-regarding actions" with "normal awareness" are
important to distinguishing between legitimate and
illegitimate paternalism. Indeed, the further a case is
from normal conditions, the more defensible is legal pa-
ternalism, assuming of course that people are threatening
to do harm. Accordingly, some of the clearest cases for
legal paternalism are, as earlier mentioned, the regula-
tion of grossly retarded people, little children, and
people under the influence of certain incapacitating
drugs, such as LSD. To the degree either that people's
imprudent conduct can directly harm others (as in drunken
driving) or that people are ignorant of the nature or
likely consequences of their imprudent actions, an anti-
paternalistic appeal to freedom and autonomy should be
unavailing. While habitual smoking is usually imprudent,
and even so judged by the average smoker, smokers, like
any normal adults, should have a legal right sometimes to
act imprudently, provided again that they are engaging in
principally self-regarding conduct while they are in
normal mental states. (The key idea here is that the
mental states of people should not so impair their judg-
ment that the people do not understand the nature and
114
likely consequences of their actions.)
The question arises how we might try to reconcile a
presumptive repugnance for paternalistic coercion with
the reasonableness of some paternalistic regulations.
The problem here is that of line-drawing, of so qualify-
ing a principle of legal paternalism as to harmonize it
with defensible views about the importance of both
freedom and the prevention of harm. Before we can draw
lines, we must first draw some distinctions. Since
deliberately aiming at self-harm is presumptively
irrational, we should distinguish those cases in which
someone aims at (serious and immediate) self-harm from
those cases in which someone creates a risk of self-harm
as a result of aiming at non-harmful ends. Deliberately
swallowing a large dose of potassium cyanide illustrates
the first case, while most sky-diving illustrates the
second.
I do not want to create the impression that people
cannot irrationally pursue non-harmful ends by unreason-
able means, but simply want to hold that the clearest
cases of presumptive irrationality are those in which
someone deliberately aims at serious and immediate self-
harm. It is in those cases that the issue of paternalism
seriously arises, because it is in those cases that there
is a presumption against the existence of free and in-
115
formed choice. It is Understandable and reasonable that
we desire to prevent people from harming themselves in
circumstances in which it is reasonable to believe that
they would not harm themselves if they were fully aware
of the nature and likely consequences of their actions.
As I have suggested, the closer we are to cases in which
someone is deliberately inflicting on himself serious and
immediate harm, the closer we are to conduct warranting
legal paternalism. (I shall soon have more to say about
deliberate infliction of self-harm.)
We should also distinguish between reasonable and
unreasonable risks. Although it is not possible to
define "unreasonable risk" with mathematical exactitude,
there are some clearly unreasonable risks.
berg's words:
In Joel Fein-
It is unreasonable to drive at sixty miles an hour through a twenty mile an hour zone in order to arrive at a party on time, but it may be reasonable to drive fifty miles an hour to get a preg-nant wife to the maternity ward. It is foolish to resist an armed robber in an effort to protect one's wallet, but it may be worth a desperate lunge to protect one's very life.89
Further, it is clearly unreasonable, indeed irrational,
for someone (who, say, is drunk) to play Russian roulette
to demonstrate his "masculinity." It is well to concede
here that determining the reasonableness of some action
116
or habit can be controversial because it requires not
only calculating risks and probabilities but also
measuring the disvalue of risks against the value of the
risky behavior. If the risk to one's health is serious,
immediate, and likely, and the value of the risky be-
havior is reasonably regarded as trivial, taking the risk
is clearly unreasonable. I have already given the
example of psychologically insecure men playing Russian
roulette to demonstrate their masculinity. Morally
speaking, if people know that they can, with little risk
and cost, probably prevent somebody from engaging in
Russian roulette, they ought to try to dissuade him.
There is, moreover, a case for legally requiring the
dissuasion. It is probably reasonable to require sur-
viving Russian roulette players to be questioned by a
panel of psychologists or other similarly qualified
people to determine the degree to which the roulette
players' actions were voluntary. (I shall soon have more
to say about the test of voluntariness.)
As I have held, the case for paternalistically regu-
lating the conduct of adults is most strong in one or
more of the following situations: (i) when people are
deliberately aiming at serious and immediate self-harm
(e.g., the taking of potassium cyanide); (ii) when people
are using highly dangerous means to pursue ends plausibly
117
regarded as trivial (~, Russian roulette playing by
"machismo-demonstrators"); and (iii) when people are
engaging in highly dangerous activities while they are in
seriously impaired mental states (~, preparations to
jump from a window made by someone who has just taken
LSD). The further we are from those abnormal conditions,
the more dubious is paternalistic interference in the
lives of adults. Accordingly, while the law might be
properly concerned with cyanide-swallowing and Russian-
roulette playing, it should probably have nothing to do
with the beer-drinking contests of adults. For the risk
of serious and immediate harm from overconsumption of
beer is far less than the risk of harm from Russian
roulette-playing, since the possibility that any one
beer-drinking binge will cause serious and irreversible
harm is low.
Joel Feinberg lists the following considerations as
relevant to evaluating the reasonableness of risk-taking:
If there is time to deliberate one should consider: (1) the degree of probability that harm to oneself will result from a given course of action, (2) the serious-ness of the harm risked, i.e., "the value or importance of that which is exposed to the risk," (3) the degree of probability that the goal inclining one to shoulder the risk will result from the course of action, (4) the value or importance of achieving that goal, that is, just how worthwhile it is to one (this is the intimately personal factor, requiring a
decision about one's preferences, that makes it so difficult for the outsider to judge the reasonableness of a risk), and (5) the necessity of the risk, that is, the availability or absence of alterna-tive, less risky, means to the desired goa1.90
118
From the discussion so far it should be clear why I
hold that not all risk-taking is imprudent, and that not
all imprudent risk-taking should be the object of legal
sanction. In determining the scope of imprudent conduct
that the law may legitimately proscribe, it is important
to distinguish the degree to which the conduct is volun-
tary. If we look at the assumption of a risk on the
model of what Aristotle called "deliberate choice," we
can make the following judgment. A risk is voluntarily
assumed to the degree that it is assumed in consideration
of all relevant facts and probable consequences and in
the absence of coercion and compulsion. Accordingly,
Feinberg writes: "To whatever extent there is neurotic
compulsion, misinformation, excitement or impetuousness,
clouded judgment (as, e.g., from alcohol), or immature or
defective faculties of reasoning, the choice falls short
of perfect voluntariness. 11 91
The closer a person's assumption of risk is to the
nonvoluntary, the more defensible is paternalistic
interference. Hence we feel uninhibited about paterna-
lism in the lives of young children, or adults who are
119
under the influence of LSD, or even alcohol. Given the
distinctions just drawn, we can see why a categorical
rejection of paternalism is indefensible: It ignores, or
at least trivializes, the varying degree to which
people's doings are not within their rational control.
We can also see why a keen de re for paternalistic laws
is problematic: It betrays a failure to take personal
autonomy seriously. Even Mill recognized a need for some
degree of paternalism, not just for children, backward
societies, and the mentally retarded, but also for
adults, at least when they are laboring under uninformed
or misinformed choice:
Mi 11
stranger
If either a public officer or any one else saw a person attempting to cross a bridge which had been ascertained to be unsafe, and there were no time to warn him of his danger, they might seize him and turn him back, without any real infringement of his liberty; for liberty consists in doing what one desires, and he does not desire to fall into the river.92
believed that given the presumption that
does not want to fall into the water, it
the
is
reasonable to interfere with his attempt to cross the
bridge so that he can be warned. If, upon being warned,
the man :::, ti 11 wants to cross the bridge, Mi 11 would
permit him to do as he pleased. Patently self-damaging
behavior, under certain circumstances, creates for Mill a
120
presumption for interference, at least to the degree that
someone can be permitted temporarily to stop the
self-destructive people to determine the degree to which
their actions are calm, competent, and free. Extrapola-
ting from some passages in On Liberty, we might gather
that Mill approved of a mild form of paternalism for
adults. Perhaps he held that the State has a right to
prevent at least serious and imminent self-harm only when
that harm is substantially nonvoluntary, or when inter-
vention is necessary to measure the extent to which the
action is voluntary. (At any rate, that is my position.)
On the basis of a standard of voluntariness, one
might support legal attempts temporarily to prevent
people from, say, chopping off their hands or attempting
suicide to enable the State to determine whether the
people know exactly what they were doing. In short,
paternalistic intervention by the State in the lives of
adults is most clearly justified when the adults are
either obviously aiming at imminent and serious self-
harm or are confused, or reasonably thought to be con-
fused, about the extent to which their conduct is
dangerous to them.
Joel Feinberg distinguishes the following three
cases. 93 First, a doctor (Doe) tells a patient (Roe)
that the patient cannot receive drug X, even though the
121
patient wants it, because it will harm him. If Roe, who
presumably knows little about drugs, disagrees with Doe
about the danger, we can reasonably believe that Roe's
intended action, because it would be performed in
ignorance, would be substantially less than fully volun-
tary. Second, Doe tells Roe that the drug is harmful,
and Roe agrees but then maintains that he wants to take
the drug to harm himself. Because we know that most
decisions of intentional self-harm are not fully volun-
tary, the State, it can be argued, can rightly demand
that the patient convince a properly qualified panel that
he is not suffering from any derangement, illness, severe
depression, or other mentally disorienting conditions.
Let me qualify my previous remarks. We are talking
here about a drug that will very likely cause serious and
imminent harm. Since most "recreational" drugs do not
pose a high risk of serious and imminent harm, my argu-
ment for a highly qualified principle of paternalism
cannot be uncontroversially invoked to support the crimi-
nalization of most of those drugs. (One recreational
drug, PCP, may pose so high a degree of risk as to
warrant legal attention.) The third case Feinberg
considers is that in which Dr. Doe warns Roe against the
drug, again because of a high likelihood of harm. In
that case Roe calmly acknowledges the possibility of
122
harm, and says that he is willing to take the risk so
that he can experience a great deal of pleasure. We are
dealing here with an at least semi-enlightened hedonist
who desires to cultivate an intensely pleasurable life-
style, even if that lifestyle might decrease his life-
span. As a chemical risk-taker, our hedonist is
the ingester of potassium cyanide and the
smoker, though perhaps closer to the ingester
between
habitual
of cya-
nide. Our hedonist represents a test case requiring a
judgment call.
Whatever the law should be in that case, I think that
it should reflect the following insight: the more likely,
serious, and imminent the harm someone risks, the greater
presumption there is that his action is less than fully
voluntary. Note that the presumption is rebuttable, as
in the case of the Christian Scientist. Note further
that the insight enables us to distinguish between in-
gesters of cyanide and smokers of cigarettes. For in
that case we reflect that, while it is possible for
normal, (more-or-less) rational people voluntarily to
expose themselves to the imprudent risk of habitual
smoking, it is possible but unlikely that a person who
intentionally ingests a deadly substance is in his right
mind and knows exactly what he is doing.
My conclusions might be summarized as follows. Be-
123
cause I believe that the law may properly attempt to
prevent harm to its citizenry, I thought it appropriate
to discuss the limits of the prevention of harm that are
imposed by the values of liberty and autonomy. I have
held that the law may properly try to prevent intentional
and accidental harms to others and sometimes, but only
sometimes, try to prevent self-inflicted harms. The
clearest warrant for paternalism will be operative in
cases in which there are children, retardates, or adults
deeply confused about the nature and likely consequences
of their actions. The higher the risk of serious and
imminent harm, the greater presumption there is that the
agent is engaged in less than fully voluntary action.
Any reasonable principle of legal paternalism should be
sensitive to the varying degrees of seriousness of such
activities as cyanide-eating, Russian roulette-playing,
race-car driving, cigarette-smoking, and so on. A key
question the legal paternalist must always bear in mind
is, "Do the risk-takers know exactly what they are
doing?" He should want to discuss whether the risk-
takers have accurately calculated the risks involved and
the likely consequences of taking those risks. It is
possible that calm and sober people might, because of
their moral or religious principles, take risks most
other people would regard as imprudent. That descrip-
124
tion fits the case of the Christian Scientist who refuses
a blood transfusion, and also fits, but to a lesser
extent, the cases of race car drivers and mountain-
climbers. If adult Christian Scientists and race car
drivers are well aware of the risks they
good reason for the State to compel
prudently.
take, I see no
them to act more
I think that it is the burden of the State to justi-
fy all paternalistic laws and to explain how any given
law can consist with a respect for personal freedom and
autonomy. I believe that the State will sometimes be
able to meet the burden, but that it should always pro-
ceed with great caution. Finally, I believe that the
State may legitimately criminalize actions of three
kinds. First, the State may criminalize harms that are
either deliberately or negligently initiated against
others. Second, the State may properly criminalize
intentional failures to effect easy rescues that satisfy
the definition of MDS. Third, and finally, the State may
properly use the law in seeking to discourage some cases
of self-inficted harms. It is reasonable for the law
normally to intervene in cases in which people are
exposing themselves to serious and imminent harm. It is
reasonable for the law to require such people to answer
questions designed to determine the degree to which their
125
assumptions of risk are voluntary. Further, a case can
be made for requiring citizens to try to prevent self-
inflicted harms that are serious and imminent in cir-
cumstances in which those harms can be prevented without
unreasonable risk or effort. Let us now turn to Chapter
Three and arguments for extensive duties of rescue.
126
CHAPTER THREE
Like Chapter Two, this chapter is divided into
sections. The first section describes the general issues
covered in the chapter, and evaluates John Harris's argu-
ment for extensive duties of rescue. The second section
criticizes Peter Singer's argument for extensive duties
of rescue by criticizing both act- and rule-utilitaria-
nism.
I. In this chapter I shall evaluate the arguments of
John Harris and Peter Singer, both of whom believe that
we are morally required to perform extensive duties of
rescue, including duties to give a great deal of money to
the Third World. Although both Harris and Singer support
extensive duties of rescue, ach has his own method of
argument. While Singer relies on basically utilitarian
premises, Harris tries to develop an argument based on
conceptual analysis. Harris believes that a proper un-
derstanding of "failures to prevent harm" will or should
produce the conviction that people are causally respon-
sible for the harm they could have prevented. He holds
that the moral duty to prevent harm and violence applies
to failures to prevent harm as well as to straightforward
"positive actions," such as deliberate batteries.
now to Harris.
I turn
127
I have already argued t~at failures to prevent harm
can be harmful, so that I concur with Harris on that
general issue. What is contentious about Harris's posi-
tion, however, is not his regarding failure to prevent
harm as harmful, but his regarding all failures to pre-
vent preventable harm as harmful. I shall argue that his
analysis of "negative causation" is conceptually promis-
cuous, committing him to untenable moral and causal judg-
ments.
He develops his case partly by citing examples and
partly by arguing against alternative analyses of omis-
sions. The examples of which he is particularly fond
come from Marx and Engels. In the Conditions of the
Working Class in England Engels writes:
Murder has been committed if society places hundreds of workers in such a position that they inevitably come to premature and unnatural ends. Their death is as violent as if they had been stabbed or shot. Murder has been com-mitted if thousands of workers have been deprived of the necessities of life or if they have been forced by the strong arm of the law to go on living under such conditions until death inevitably re-leases them. Murder has been committed if society knows perfectly well that thousands of workers cannot avoid being sacrificed so long as these conditions are allowed to continue. Murder of this sort is just as culpable as the murder committed by an individua1.94
I shall eventually argue that the Engels' quotation
128
does very little if anything to support Harris, because
it does not illustrate what Harris wants it to illus-
trate. I shall now say only that Engels--unlike Harris--
appears to be blaming people not simply for failing to
help others, but for failing to help others whom they
have exploited. But of that criticism more later. The
question here is not whether it is morally right to fail
to prevent harm; rather, the question is whether failure
to prevent people's deaths is always to cause their
deaths and whether knowingly to let them die is to kill
them. These questions are important because, given
Harris's analysis of "not-preventings," each of us is
causing a great deal of harm, and causing a great deal of
harm is morally dubious.
Let us look at another example Harris gives.
from Marx's Capital.
Wherever there is a working day without restriction as to length, wherever there is night work and unrestricted waste of human life, there the slightest obstacle presented by the nature of the work to a change for the better is soon looked upon as an everlasting barrier erected by Nature. No poison kills vermin with more certainty than the Factory Act removes such everlasting barriers.95
It is
Marx is there criticizing the view taken by many nine-
teenth century capitalists that work-related deprivations
did not embody mistreatment, but were the inevitable pro-
129
duct of Nature. Soon I shall argue that the example just
mentioned is as unhappy as the Engels' example, and for
similar reasons. Let us first, though, look at Harris's
criticism of causal analyses alternative to his.
He holds that the crucial question is: In what cir-
cumstances is it appropriate to say that Y is a conse-
quence of not doing X? He examines Eric ,D'Arcy's analy-
sis, according to which Y is a consequence of A's failure
to do X only when:
( 1) Doing X is a standard way of preventing Y.
(2) A is in some way expected to do X.
(3) X is required of A in order that something such as Y should not happen.96
As Harris remarks, D'Arcy relies on both the descriptive
and prescriptive senses of "expect," so that A may be ex-
pected to do X if either "(a) 'X is something that A
usually does, or people usually do, in the situation in
question,' or (b) 'Xis required of him by some rule with
which he is expected to comply.' 'This may of course be
some moral rule, precept, or principle; but it will often
be a non-moral rule. 111 97 Harris believes that D'Arcy's
expectation-based model inverts the proper connection
between moral responsibility and causation.98
Harris discusses the example from Bentham in which a
person can save the life of a drunkard who is lying face
130
downwards in a puddle simply by tilting his head in a
life-saving direction. Harris contends that we have a
moral duty to help the drunkard because failure to help
him will cause his death.
It would not be the death of him because we have the duty; it would be the death of him because we fail to save him ... It is not the existence of the duty that makes the death of a drunk a consequence of any failure to save him, rather it is the fact that unless we save him he will die that makes it our duty to save him.99
I like Bentham's example, but think that it buttres-
ses Feinberg's, not Harris's, analysis of omissions.
Clearly, Harris insists that causal judgments concerning
the production of human harm are independent of moral
judgments in the sense that those causal judgments can be
made without invoking moral norms.
writes:
Accordingly,
We do not need to postulate a duty of beneficence to explain how the neglect of the passerby might well have resulted in the man's death, rather we need to under-stand the causal connection between the neglect and death to see why anyone might be required to tend to him.100
he
Similarly, Harris insists that often if not standardly
when (human) harm can be prevented
... it is not the fact that X is expected of a man that allows us to say that his not doing X makes him causally responsi-ble for Y, but rather, the fact that we see him to be causally responsible for Y shows us that X was expected of him.101
131
Apropos of his opposition to expectation-based causal
analyses, Harris rejects John Casey's analysis. Harris
represents Casey as holding that failures to act can
possess causal efficacy only when, in the normal course
of events, the "nonfeasor" could have been expected to do
what he failed to do.102 Casey holds that a person can
be appropriately praised or blamed for an outcome or
state of affairs if and only if:
(a) His actions (or omissions) are causally responsible for it.
(b) The outcome has some importance in terms of what he might be expected to do; in general, that is, in terms of a pattern of role re-sponsibilities, in the context of which he acts.
(c) Normal conditions [obtain] (i.e., no excusing conditions).103
Harris expresses Casey's position as follows:
if a failure to act is to be identified and given causal status, the normal con-ditions in the light of which it is a failure to act must be known. In knowing what a man is expected to do, we know the normal conditions; when a man fails to do what is expected of him, we can see that
the failure is an intrusion into the pat-tern of normal expectations, and we are then able to say that certain events are the results of his failure. Furthermore, Casey believes that what he calls 'a man's role' defines what sort of agent he is, and what are his role responsibili-ties and obligations, prior to any particular case.104
132
Harris agrees with Casey to this extent, that some-
times "role responsibilities" will fix causal responsi-
bilities, as when through neglect a gardener is causally
responsible for a garden's going to seed.105
But Harris thinks that sometimes a person's moral
responsibility will be determined by the consequences of
his failure to act. For "[s]ometimes we know what a
man's responsibilities and obligations are only because
we see that failure to act in a certain way will result
in the occurrence of the sort of thing we expect or
require people to prevent. 11 106 Accordingly, Harris holds
"that where Y involves harm to human beings, then Y will
be a consequence of A's not doing X simply where X would
have prevented Y and A could have done X. 11 107 He thinks
that when a person fails to prevent harm, his failure to
prevent harm can be causally efficacious, regardless of
the absence of contract, role responsibilities, or any
distinctively moral expectations. Before criticizing his
position, I want to look at his comments on Hart's and
Honore's view, as expressed in Causation in the Law.
133
(The following remarks will to some degree review and
develop some ideas discussesd in Chapter Two.)
The Hart-Honore analysis of omissions relies heavily
on the notion of expectation. For them, an omission has
causal status only if it constitutes a departure from
what normally happens.
What is taken as normal for the purpose of the distinction between cause and mere conditions is very often an artefact of human habit, custom and convention. This is so because men have discovered that nature is not only sometimes harmful if we intervene, but is also sometimes harm-ful unless we intervene, and have de-veloped customary techniques, procedures and routines to counteract such harm. These have become a second 'nature' and so a second 'norm'. The effect of drought is regularly neutralized by government precautions in preserving water or food; disease is neutralized by inoculation; rain by the use of umbrel-las. When such man-made normal condi-tions are established, deviation from them will be regarded as exceptional and so rank as the cause of harm.108
Accordingly, we can attribute the bad condition of a
garden to the neglect or inattention of some professional
gardener whose job it is to cultivate the garden. Al-
though Harris believes that the Hart-Honore analysis is
correct in explaining the causal status of many if not
most omissions, he raises an objection by asking whether
... when it had become clear vaccine was successful
that Jenner's in preventing
smallpox, it would have been necessary to wait until the practice of inoculation had become standard before it would be correct to cite the failure to vaccinate as a cause, perhaps the most significant cause, of an epidemic.109
134
In an attempt to explain why we might reasonably re-
gard the failure to vaccinate as a cause of an epidemic,
Harris makes the crucial move:
Where harm to human beings is concerned, however, our interest needs no special occasion. We are always interested in the causes of harm to ourselves and our fellow men.110
Against Harris I submit that, even if we accept his
causal assessment in the vaccine example, we need not
accept the general moral that we are instructed to draw,
namely, that the possibility of preventing harm is enough
to warrant the proposition that any failure to prevent
harm causes that harm. Let me explain.
Of the vaccine example we can say the following:
either (i) that the "not-preventings" of medical re-
searchers are at least sometimes causes because of the
researchers' role responsibilities, or relatedly, ( i i )
that such failures to use vaccines are causes because we
expect (morally) a certain class of specially trained
people to cure and sometimes prevent diseases. Or,
again, we might invoke both reasons.
135
My point is this. The Hart-Honore analysis seems a
fairly plausible account of how omissions can have causal
status. Their explanation is particularly plausible if
we bear in mind that expectations can be descriptive or
prescriptive: Sometimes we, on the basis of purely in-
ductive reasoning, expect people to perform certain
actions; at other times, we, on the basis of social,
legal, or moral norms, expect certain performances. (Of
course, some expressions of expectation can be both pre-
scriptive and descriptive, as when Englishmen were "ex-
pected" to serve their country during World War II.)
In attributing causal efficacy to omissions, the
clearer the norms, the more plausible the causal
attribution. Accordingly, failure to do act A will most
clearly be a case of causing (or contributing to the
production of) some state of affairs when there are clear
norms prescribing the performance of A. As a corollary
to the thesis advanced above, the more controversial the
norms on the basis of which people assign causal respon-
sibility, the more implausible will be the causal claim.
Let me elaborate by further examining a couple of exam-
ples that have already been discussed.
Since a professional gardener has fairly clear role
responsibilities, we can attribute a weedy garden to his
neglect. But when someone makes the claim (earlier men-
136
tioned) that there is starvation in India partly because
the United States government has neglected forcibly to
sterilize the Indian people, he is making an implausible
claim. It is implausible for reasons I have already
suggested: There are no uncontroversial norms, either
descriptive or prescriptive, on which the claim can be
based. Indeed, as I suggested earlier, if there are any
relevant norms, those norms condemn compulsory sterili-
zation.
We have already seen not only Harris but also Eric
Mack oppose the expectation-based analyses I have de-
scribed, at least when those analyses appeal to moral
expectations to ground causal claims. Harris believes
that moral expectations govern judgments of praise and
blame but not judgments of causal efficacy. Thus, Harris
writes:
If a doctor believes that he must never deliberately take life and so refuses to perform an abortion, even though the mother will die if the abortion is not performed, he does not see himself as causing the mother's death, rather he believes himself to have no choice. It i~ significant that such a man is often described as following the dictates of the divine law, or of his conscience, "whatever the consequences," and that discussions of the problems raised by such dilemmas are discussions of whether absolute moral principles which ignore consequences can be justified. The point is not that one has to be a consequen-tialist, but that the adoption of prin-ciples or values, or even ways of life or ways of organizing society, which makes
the prevention of certain sorts of harm by certain means 'out of question,' does not prevent the harm [from] being a consequence of the maintenance of those principles or that way of life.Ill
137
My response to Harris is that, while it is true the
doctor's failure to kill the fetus might be viewed as
causally related to the mother's death, that is at least
partly because the moral expectation that the doctor
should kill the fetus to save the mother is not wildly
implausible. Let us, though, look at the following
example. Suppose that the only way a doctor can prevent
the amputation of someone's legs is by killing two inno-
cent men and transplanting some of their organs into the
potential amputee. Since killing the two men would be
obviously immoral, it would be dubious for anyone to
claim that the doctor's failure to kill the two men
caused the amputation, or the
medically necessary.
situation making it
Harris tries to distinguish between judgments con-
cerning the causation of harm and moral judgments ascrib-
ing praise and blame. He holds that, while praise and
blame are often if not usually appropriate where harm to
human beings is intentionally and knowingly caused, we
may be unlikely to blame people if we think that the only
way in which they could have prevented some harm is for
some reason ineligible. Harris would say that, if most
138
people believed that the only way to prevent some harm
required other, greater harm, they would be reluctant,
and might even refuse, to blame the relevant person for
causing the harm by his failure to act. Further, Harris
would probably maintain that blame is appropriate not
simply when the harm is caused, but when it is caused in
the absence of excusing conditions. I see no problem
with the claim that, while harm-causing is presumptively
morally dubious, harm-causing is sometimes not blame-
worthy. Harris's problem is not that distinction but his
analysis of "negative causation," which I shall soon for-
mally give.
Eric Mack, as we saw earlier, opposes the proposition
that some "not-preventings" can, without a background of
positive actions, have causal status. More precisely,
his view is that, whenever someone will advance a
plausible-appearing case of "negative causation," the
case will be assimilable to a case in which someone
neglects to discharge a positive duty that was generated
by the nonfeasor's special relation to the causal back-
ground of the perilous state of affairs. Among the
"special relations" Mack would acknowledge are those
positive duties imposed (i) by contract and other
agreements, (ii) by endangerment through coercion, (iii)
by straightforward harm (as in a hunting accident), and
(iv) by parental
simply is the form
obligations.
which the
139
"A current 'duty to cure'
duty not to harm takes
within a context such that harm will ensue from A's past
act unless A intervenes now. When a duty is violated, it
is the prior endangering act which causes the harm. 11 112
I have already criticized Mack for thinking that his
analysis of culpable omissions is non-normative. I have
rejected Mack's principal objection to any theory of
negative causation: " ... that the causation theorist
cannot avoid commitment to the very general claim about
negative causation that any absence of an action (or
event) is a cause of outcome Y if that action (or event)
would have prevented Y. 11 113 I have held that the only
"not-preventings" that should be regarded as having
causal status are those that are properly considered
omissions, and I see nothing arbitrary about that
qualification.
Let us now set out formally Harris's view of negative
causation. He wants to say that A's failure to do X
caused Y where (i) A could have done X; (ii) X could have
prevented Y; and (iii) either (a) Xis expected of A, or
(b) Y involves harm to human beings.114 Note that
Harris's analysis of negative causation resembles the
Hart-Honore analysis of causally efficacious omissions,
except for the second clause (~, clause (b)) of
Harris's third condition.
140
Harris is largely agreeing
with the Hart-Honore analysis, except for one difference:
He is building into his analysis a particular moral norm:
He is assuming, without argument, that we have a prima
facie moral duty to prevent harm, wherever possible. But
note that Harris believes that his analysis is morally
neutral.
Unfortunately for Harris, when he defines "negative
causation," he is presupposing a very controversial moral
norm. In effect, Harris is saying something like the
following. "We ought to think twice before failing to
prevent harm that we can prevent. The reason is that, if
we are morally concerned, we ought to avoid harming
others; and failing to prevent people from being harmed
is to harm them." But we must ask Harris: Why does he
say that failing to prevent (preventable) harm is to
cause the harm.
to human beings
He will answer as follows. "Where
is concerned ... our interest needs
harm
no
special
of harm
occasion. We are always interested in the causes
to ourselves and our fellow men. 11 115 The
interest about which Harris speaks appears to be a moral
interest, based on moral expectations, indeed controver-
sial moral expectations. It is precisely because
Harris's moral expectations are controversial that his
analysis of negative causation is controversial and even
141
implausible. For if people are doubtful whether we have
a moral duty to prevent harm (wherever possible), Harris
has provided them with no reason to accept the proposi-
tion that failure to prevent (preventable) harm is to
cause it.
Harris does, however, seem partially right. When
talking about the causes of preventable harm, we do want
to discover which agents were capable of preventing the
harm and which agents knew about the harm. But I believe
that he is wrong to think that any action that could have
prevented harm is a likely candidate for causal status.
For in describing omissions as causes of human harm, we
are usually if not characteristically using to some
extent the moral point of view, implicit in which are
certain expectations of proper and improper ways of pre-
venting harm. Let me explain.
Suppose the people of Afghanistan argued as follows.
The American people are to some degree causally responsi-
ble for the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan because the
United States government failed to drop nuclear bombs on
the Soviet Union. The people of Afghanistan could ex-
press that sentiment, but the question is whether that
claim should be taken seriously. Even if we accepted
Harris's remarkably diffuse causal attributions, we would
have to do so at a price. For on his view of negative
142
causation, by which we might arrive at the previous
causal attribution, the current prima facie connection
between causal respon~ibility for harm and moral respon-
sibility would be highly attenuated.
further.
Let me explain
Once we adopted Harris's view of negative causation,
we would greatly increase by theoretical fiat the number
of harmful nonpreventions, but would simultaneously
attenuate any presumptive connection formerly holding
between the doing of harm (which is now re-defined to
Harris's
suspect.
liking) and the doing of what is morally
Note that while we ordinarily distinguish
between causal responsibility and moral culpability, the
two are characteristically interrelated in complex ways.
Usually, if not typically, when people are culpable for
some harmful state of affairs, they played some causal
role in producing that state of affairs, and they played
that role in the absence of excusing conditions (such as
certain kinds of mistake, or insanity). But if, as in
Harris's analysis, anything that could have been done to
prevent some harm is a likely candidate for causal
status, then the idea of failing to prevent harm (in this
re-defined sense of "harm") appears to have little moral
significance. Ordinarily, the notion of consequences of
actions is used in a context in which we can talk about
143
such things as the culpable negligence of people in
certain roles or statuses, the neglect of contractual
obligations, the active
and so on. Accordingly, we
the accusation that our
thwarting of others' interests,
might well become upset by
actions have harmful conse-
quences. But if the phrase "consequences of one's
actions" is used so broadly as to include all non-pre-
ventions of preventable harm, then the accusation that
nearly all large-scale miseries of the world are at least
partially the consequences of our actions need not always
upset us.
Harris sets up a false dilemma by holding that we
must either deny that people are ever responsible for
states of affairs they could have prevented, or accept a
radical revision of our ordinary views about agency and
moral responsibility.116 For his dilemma turns on a
highly controversial moral norm, namely, the judgment
that people should prevent harm, wherever possible.
Without the moral norm he cannot hold that we are harm-
ing everyone whom we can help, but do not. Further, if
Harris did live up to his claim to define the causal
efficacy of not-preventings without any reference to
moral expectation, it would be difficult if not impossi-
ble to avoid Mack's criticism, namely, "that the causa-
tion theorist cannot avoid commitment to the very general
144
claim about negative causation that any absence of an
action (or event) is a cause of outcome Y if that action
(or event) would have prevented Y. 11 117 As I said
earlier, if the theorists of negative causation are to
avoid holding that all necessary conditions for a state
of affairs are necessary ingredients in satisfactory
causal explanations, they will have to be able to find a
principled way of limiting negative causal attributions.
I have suggested that fixing our attention on the class
of omissions is a reasonable way to begin to define the
class of effective non-preventions. It appears, however,
that Harris cannot similarly restrict his causal attri-
butions because of his reliance on a more or less cate-
gorical duty to prevent harm.
Such support as Harris gives
theory of negative causation comes
for his particular
principally in the
form of
warrant
selection
examples, which, even
his general thesis.
if accepted, would not
Consider his highly prized
which Engels claims that from Engels, in
"murder has been committed if thousands of workers have
been deprived of the necessities of life or if they have
been forced into a situation in which it is impossible
for them to survive. 11 118 If the workers have been "de-
prived" of necessities and "forced" into a harmful if not
fatal environment, or otherwise dangerously exploited,
145
the exploiters have been actively creating a perilous
situation, rather than simply failing to rescue people
from perils that the potential rescuers in no way
initiated. As I suggested earlier, the examples Harris
cites constitute a dubious basis for his view of negative
causation.
If people accepted Harris's view of negative causa-
tion, they might be committed to some dubious moral judg-
ments, in which they might be required by consistency to
endorse unreasonable limitations of freedom. Let us look
at the following example. Suppose agent A knows that his
next-door neighbor, agent B, plans to go to a party to-
night, at which he will almost certainly become exceed-
ingly drunk. Suppose further that A knows that if B be-
comes drunk, B will very likely be involved in a car
accident. Suppose still further that A knows that if B
is unable to go in his own car, B will not go. (B is
eccentric, and never goes to parties unless he drives his
own car.) Suppose finally that A reasonably believes
that if B drives his car to the party, he will almost
certainly become involved in a car accident on the way
home. If A is to prevent a serious accident, he will
probably have to prevent B from going to the party.
Now A, who has just finished reading John Harris,
reasons as follows:
If I do not somehow prevent B from using his car tonight, and B should become seriously injured, or should die in an accident, I shall have negatively caused B's injury or death. Since I have a moral duty, indeed a serious duty, to avoid gravely injuring or killing anyone, I must act quickly and intelligently. Aha! I have a metal boot, by which I can immobilize one of B's rear tires. When B is not looking, I shall sneak up to his car and fasten the metal boot, since it is, after all, better to immobilize some-one's car than to injure or kill him.
146
Harris might object to the example, complaining that
A, from his original epistemological position, can pre-
vent only a serious risk of harm and not any harm that is
certain. While the objection is interesting, it can be
circumvented. We might enhance A's epistemological posi-
tion by making him a remarkably reliable psychic who
rarely if ever goes wrong in his predictions of gloom.
But even if someone rejects the psychic flourish as in-
credible, I would argue that even the prevention of a
serious risk might, on Harris's reasoning, require A's
use of the tire boot. For presumably A will have a moral
duty to act in such a way as to avoid seriously jeopar-
dizing B's life. It might be argued that, given Harris's
picture of negative causation, A's failure to help B
would seriously jeopardize B's life.
I am not sure whether Harris could avoid condoning,
or indeed morally requiring, an unreasonable infringe-
147
ment of B's freedom, particularly if Harris believes that
all non-preventions of serious harm are morally serious.
In the car example, Harris's position appears to ignore
the role of B, who is an autonomous if somewhat stupid
moral agent, who has plans, projects, and goals to which
he bears a special relation and for which he is princi-
pally responsible. The verdict to which Harris is most
likely committed appears to be both morally and causally
dubious. For even if B did become involved in an acci-
dent and was harmed, it is difficult to see how an ade-
quate causal explanation of the accident would have to
contain a reference to A's failure to immobilize B's
car. A's non-prevention is inessential to an adequate
causal understanding of B's injuries because there is no
clear expectation, prescriptive or descriptive, that A
should (in the present context) prevent B's injuries. I
conclude my discussion of Harris by maintaining that he
has failed to prove his case, which turns on a contro-
versial moral standard that is presented as part of a
conceptual analysis.
We shall turn first to a very brief summary of our
progress, then to a discussion of Peter Singer, and
finally to a critique of utilitarianism. We shall see
that Singer, like Harris, believes in extensive duties of
rescue, but that he, unlike Harris, intends to rest his
148
case on moral claims, not conceptual ones. Now to the
summary.
I evaluated the most common arguments against good
Samaritan laws and found them unconvincing. Because I
have raised some serious problems with the most common
objections to minimal duties of rescue, and because I
think that minimal duties of rescue are defensible by
appeal to the harm principle or a qualified version of
that principle, I think that at least minimal legal
duties of rescue are acceptable. I have decided to
evaluate extensive duties of rescue because my argu-
ments in the second chapter were principally designed to
rebut popular objections to minimal duties of rescue, and
not to preclude categorically more extensive general
duties of rescue. Alth)ugh I have found Harris's case
for extensive duties unconvincing, I have yet to evalu-
ate Peter Singer's views and the utilitarian case for
extensive duties, to which I shall now turn.
II. Peter Singer's position on rescue can be found in his
Practical Ethics and "Famine, Affluence, and Morality" in
Philosophy and Public Affairs [l, No.3 (Spring 1972),
229-243]. In the article cited, he holds that his view
is based on the fallowing principle or judgment: " [ i ]f it
is in our power to prevent something bad from happening,
149
without thereby sacrificing anything of comparable moral
importance, we ought, morally, to do it. 11 119 He explains
the principle as follows:
By "without sacrificing anything of com-parable moral importance" I mean without causing anything else comparably bad to happen, or doing something that is wrong in itself, or failing to promote some moral good comparable in significance to the bad thing that we can prevent.120
Singer later maintains that, while he supports the judg-
ment calling for the prevention of bad states of affairs,
he would, for the sake of compromise, so modify the judg-
ment that it would call for preventing only "very bad"
state of affairs.
He maintains that even if most of us Westerners
conscientiously tried to act in accordance with the
modified judgment, we would have to alter our life-
styles enormously. As I suggested, however, Singer, at
least in the article mentioned, supports the unmodified
position, calling for preventing bad state of affairs.
In the article, he maintains that the unmodified,
"strong" position would probably require people to give
to the point of marginal utility, the level at which a
person's giving more would cause as much suffering to
him or others as he would be relieving by his help. In
his book Practical Ethics, Singer expresses less
150
stringent expectations; there he argues that most Western
nations should be giving at least 10 percent of their GNP
to nations of the Third World. That percentage is indeed
moderate compared to his expectations in "Famine, Afflu-
ence, and Morality," where he expresses no principled op-
position to the figure of forty-percent, though he ac-
knowledges the possibility that such a percentage might
so slow down our economy that in absolute terms we would
be giving less by giving that percentage than we would if
we gave twenty-five percent of the larger GNP that we
might have if we gave the smaller percentage.
If we place Singer's argument in context, it can be
seen to depend on utilitarianism of some form. For it is
difficult to see how someone could support our giving
money to the point of marginal utility without relying on
utilitarianism. My point is that, if that view about
extensive aid is acceptable at all, it will be acceptable
probably only from a utilitarian point of view. Even if
we allow that Singer might well have exaggerated when he
said that his principle of altruism could require each
Westerner to reduce his standard of living to that
endured by a Bengali
believes that our
refugee, it is clear that Singer
duties of rescue should be determined
principally if not exclusively by utilitarian considera-
tions.121 And since most of the popular forms of utili-
151
tarianism with which I am familiar will most likely re-
quire Westerners to suffer substantial decreases in
wealth and freedom (if those decreases are needed to
promote the general welfare of the world), a criticism of
Singer should involve a criticism of utilitarianism.
Since Jeremy Bentham's day utilitarianism has become
increasingly refined and complex. Indeed, it has become
so complex that I can, within the scope of this discus-
sion, only gesture towards some problems with it. All
forms of utilitarianism are agreed on at least one pro-
position, namely, that the rightness or wrongness of acts
is determined ultimately by the production of what is
inherently good, usually identified as "happiness" or
"satisfaction." If the consequences evaluated are those
of particular acts, we get an act-utilitarianism of some
form; if the consequences are those of "sorts of
actions", we get rule-utilitarianism of some form. There
have been some highly sophisticated attempts at showing
that, for at least some contexts, act- and rule-utili-
tarianism are extensionally equivalent, so that they will
endorse and prohibit the same acts. Although I shall not
evaluate some arguments for that equivalence, I discuss,
at the beginning of my criticism of rule-utilitarianism,
the significance of those arguments for equivalence to a
criticism of utilitarianism. The order of my discussion
152
proceeds as follows. I shall first discuss and evaluate
one fairly simple version of act-utilitarianism, and then
look at a more complex form of utilitarianism, which has
been called "ideal rule-utilitarianism," and which has
been defended by R.B. Brandt. Finally, I shall evaluate
Peter Singer's case against the background of my discus-
sion of utilitarianism.
The species of act-utilitarianism on which an argu-
ment for extensive duties of rescue could probably be
most easily based is universalistic, hedonistic utili-
tarianism, according to which an act is right if and only
if it produces the greatest balance of pleasure over dis-
pleasure. I take it that Jeremy Bentham held that posi-
tion. Many contemporary philosophers reject the view
that the only inherent goods are pleasant mental states,
but insist that we should strive to maximize "interest-
satisfaction."
Many if not most forms of utilitarianism have been
criticized for both endorsing highly dubious moral judg-
ments and misinterpreting the nature of moral thinking.
Many philosophers have argued (i) that utilitarianism can
arrive at dubious conclusions, and (ii) that even when it
rightly endorses actions, it can do so for the wrong
reasons. To see whether those criticisms are apt, I want
to look first at hedonistic act-utilitarianism and then
153
at more sophisticated versions of utilitarianism.
Let us suppose, for the sake of argument, that the
capacity of an action to produce pleasant consequences
can usually be accurately measured. According to the
view under discussion, we are to choose that action which
has the maximum net utility. (I am assuming that most if
not all utilitarians will want, when doing their cal-
culations, to factor in the probability of alternative
sets of consequences.) Standardly, arguments against
act-utilitarianism, particularly
tarianism, will run as follows.
hedonistic act-utili-
The position will re-
quire us to perform actions that most people will regard
as morally wrong.
R.B. Brandt.122
Consider the following example from
Suppose that Mr. A is thinking about
whether he is morally required to hasten his father's
death. A's father is wealthy, but A's own family is
poor. Since his father never gives A money, A has
trouble providing for his family, whose members are
missing many joys too expensive for them. Further, the
father is ill, and can be kept alive only by the expen-
sive care provided by nurses. The cost of the care is
rapidly diminishing the father's resources. Although the
father does not want to die, he is not getting much joy
from life. Because of his medicine, he finds life
tolerable but not particularly enjoyable. His condition
154
will probably gradually become worse, though his death
will probably not occur for several years.
On act-utilitarianism, at least the hedonistic form,
it might well be not only permissible but even obligatory
for the son to hasten surreptitiously his father's death,
though most people would regard so treating the father as
unjust. On act-utilitarianism, the question whether A's
father has a right not to be interfered with against his
will does not arise. Accordingly, the father might have
better chances of surviving if his son were a rule-utili-
tarian of some form. I shall soon discuss one sophisti-
cated form of rule-utilitarianism, but want first to
describe how act-utilitarian theories are required to
view people and their actions.
On a straightforward hedonistic act-utilitarianism
killing people will be wrong if and only if killing them
will produce more pain than pleasure. What makes any
particular killing wrong is not intimately connected with
claims about violating the rights of an autonomous
valuer, but is simply the set of unpleasant consequences
someone's death might happen to produce. By viewing
people simply as producers and
act-utilitarianism hedonistic
them as
experiencers of pleasure,
is committed to viewing
products, with market
If all that matters to values,
fungible, replaceable
rather like used cars.
hedonistic act-utilitarians is the total amount
155
of
world, they must, as philosopher R.G.
the following conclusion: "[i]f the
pleasure in the
Frey holds, accept
person killed were replaced by another, whose life was
roughly commensurate in terms of pleasure, the loss in
total pleasure would be made good; and if the loss were
made good, then, of course, killing that person would not
be wrong. 11 123 What the hedonistic act-utilitarian
accepts, and what Kant rejected, is
people have market-values, that
the proposition that
their worth admits of
degrees, and is subject to varying circumstance. For the
value of persons, according to act-utilitarianism, is
derivative from the value of pleasure, so that, in prin-
ciple, the destruction of one person can be justified by
his replacement. One does not have to believe in the
complete inviolability of persons to object to the way in
which hedonistic act-utilitarianism is required to weigh
the pleasure of a killer and others against the un-
pleasant consequences of the victim's death. There are
here the possibilities of scapegoating and the "utility
monster," about which I shall soon have more to say.
It is no wonder that act-utilitarianism generally has
problems with justice. For if the act-utilitarian is
concerned only with maximizing the total general utility,
he may be required to endorse acts that distribute bene-
156
fits and deprivations (such as punishments) unequally and
indeed unjustly. Act-utilitarians might reply that
unjust distributions, particularly if patent and well
known, are usually highly disutile, since they will tend
to promote feelings of insecurity. And so Mill argued in
the fifth chapter of Utilitarianism. While a Millian
response goes far, it is doubtful whether it goes far
enough, particularly if it is used to try to defend act-
utilitarianism. For all we as critics of act-utilitar-
ianism have to do is to build into our examples the sup-
position that the injustice is not well known, and is
perhaps undetectable by people not directly involved.
Even waiving what I have just argued, the opponent of
act-utilitarianism could argue that in a situation in
which the utilitarian must choose
utile actions, only one of which is
favor the just one. Relatedly,
between two equally
just, he need not
if the act-utilitarian
must choose between act A and act B, and A is unjust but
slightly more utile than B, the act-utilitarian must
choose A.
A number of philosophers have
tarianism will itself be
set up as follows.
disutile.
Given that
held that act-utili-
The problem can be
act-utilitarianism can
warrant some person's breach of a generally useful social
practice whenever the net expectable utility of his de-
157
viation exceeds that of his conformity, universal ad-
herence to act-utilitarianism could produce great harm,
indeed more harm than would be produced by many societies
that are not generally act-utilitarian.
Let me give an illustration
then give a similar but more
example comes again from R.B.
of that criticism, and
telling criticism. This
Brandt~l24 Consider
wartime England, in which people during the Second World
War were asked to conserve electricity and gas by keeping
their homes at never more than 50 degrees F. Suppose
that each English citizen believed that his or her sur-
reptitious violation of that edict would make little dif-
ference to the war effort, because most other English
citizens, it might be thought, would obey the edict. If
most English citizens had reasoned similarly, England
might have lost the war.
Act-utilitarians might object, saying that the person
in the example is ignoring the risk that others may
reason likewise. Even if the odds are against many or
most people reasoning likewise, they might reason like-
wise, in which case each cheating person will be
partially responsible for any disastrous consequences.
If the utilitarian considers the risk and the possible
disutility involved in his ignoring the edict, he will
not ignore the edict.
158
Some critic of act-utilitarianism might offer the
following counter-reply. If millions of others decided
to violate the edict, England would suffer consequences,
regardless of what any one English citizen did. Further,
the principle of act-utilitarianism is not, "Do that
action which if performed by everyone in your situation
would maximize utility," but, "Do that action whose per-
formance by you will maximize utility, or net expectable
utility." We are assuming that it is rational for any
given English citizen to believe that most other English
citizens will not violate the edict. The idea behind
Brandt's example is that there
situations in which everyone's
utilitarian will be disutile.
are easily
acting like
imaginable
an act-
Even if Brandt's example can be answered by the
utilitarian, the
appears sound.
act-utilitarians.
general idea motivating the
Let us examine a society of
In that society every time
example
perfect
people
answered a question, even under oath, they would compare
the relative utilities of lying and telling the truth.
When it came time to discharge contractual obligations or
to keep promises, people would reason similarly. When
one's children or parents needed help, one would compare
the utility of helping them to the utility of otherwise
expending resources. As a result of reflecting on
159
various thought-experiments, it has been argued, plausi-
bly I think, that people in a predominantly act-utili-
tarian society would not be able to trust and depend on
one another. Institutions such as contract-making and
promise-making would most likely be undermined. The
act-utilitarian appears to be in the curious position of
advocating a normative theory which, if universally or
even widely adopted, would most likely be self-defeating.
Worse is yet to come. For many philosophers would go
so far as to hold that in a society of widespread act-
utilitarianism, such practices and institutions as pro-
mise-keeping and truth-telling could not even take root.
Hume is instructive here. For he maintained in his
Treatise that, while a thoroughgoing benevolence might
sometimes lead someone to breach conventional norms
governing the keeping of promises and the respecting of
property, the conscientious observance of such norms
would have better consequences on the whole than a con-
sistent practice of following the promptings of benevo-
lence. Accordingly, Hume writes:
Property must be stable and must be fixed by general rules. Though in one instance the public be a sufferer, this momentary ill is amply compensated by the steady prosecution of the rule and by the peace and order which it establishes in society.125
160
John Rawls has m&de a similar point in holding that
the rationale of the practice of promising is to "abdi-
cate one's title to act in accordance with utilitarian
and prudential considerations in order that the future
may be tied down and plans coordinated in advance. 11 126 I
take Rawls to be saying that, although the institution of
promising might be justifiable on utilitarian grounds, an
act-utilitarian approach to every promise would undermine
the institution, perhaps even its possibility, because
the utility of promise-making lies largely in its creat-
ing a context in which people can trust others to refrain
from acting in accordance with utilitarian as well as
prudential considerations. A concern for honesty, fair-
ness, and justice that views them as inherently valuable
might well motivate people to perform desirable actions
that they would not otherwise perform if they were moti-
vated only by compassion, or benevolence, or even a de-
sire to maximize utility.
Because of the foregoing analysis, there is reason to
think that the conduct of a person who is conscientiously
fair, honest, and trustworthy, and who regards such
conduct as inherently valuable, likely be
different from, and at times morally
will very
preferable to, the
conduct of an act-utilitarian, even when judged on the ------"----=-----basis of utility. There appears then to be enormous
161
utility in our being able to trust people to follow cer-
tain practices not justifiable by act-utilitarianism.
If, as seems likely, most people engage in practices and
form attitudes at odds with the requirements and implica-
tions of act-utilitarianism, act-utilitarians might well
have trouble dealing honestly with others when the utili-
tarians are counted on to tell the truth or to keep their
promises.
I want to complete my discussion of act-utilitaria-
nism by discussing the danger of scapegoating. As I have
already suggested, it is fairly easy to imagine circum-
stances in which act-utilitarians will be required to
endorse scapegoating even when the gains in utility over
alternatives are only slight. Doubtless the act-utili-
tarian will maintain, with some plausibility, that scape-
goating will usually be morally dubious, even on utili-
tarian grounds, because it requires a violation of a
number of highly useful "rules," such as a rule against
injuring others without legal justification, a rule
requiring legal conformity, a rule requiring like cases
to be treated alike, a rule requiring honesty, and so
on. However we wish to classify the status of those
rules, esteeming those rules makes utilitarian sense.
While esteeming those rules might make utilitarian
sense, it is not clear that the utility of those rules is
162
so great as to prevent the utilitarian from being
required by his theory to perform a patently unjust
action. Let me explain by describing a popular example.
A sheriff can prevent a riot in which hundreds of people
will probably be killed only if he "frames" an innocent
but unpopular man, whom the sheriff can accuse of rape
and murder. The example appears realistic and plausible
if we picture the potential scapegoat as a black living
in a bigoted southern town where a black is known to have
raped and murdered a white woman. Act-utilitarian J.J.C.
Smart is on record as expressing his reluctant approval
of framing the innocent man.127
Anti-utilitarians might hold that they need not
postulate that the sheriff can save hundreds of lives;
all that they need to do to cast doubt on act-utilitari-
anism is to postulate that the killing of the innocent
man is marginally more utile than the decision not to
kill. Matters are tricky here because the act-utilitar-
ian will want to evaluate all roughly foreseeable con-
sequences, which would include the possibility that the
sheriff's act of injustice might be discovered. The
point is that, if people discovered that the sheriff
deliberately killed an innocent man, many people would
lose some confidence in the legal system.
While the argument has some merit, it rests the
163
wrongness of scapegoating on highly variable circum-
stance, and it grounds the wrongness of scapegoating not
in the inherent worth of people and their right not to be
injured for others' benefit, but in the variable capacity
of scapegoating to lead to disutile states of affairs.
Further, while there are usually no guarantees against
someone's discovering a particular instance of scapegoat-
ing, people might argue that in the sheriff case the
discovery of scapegoating might not be as disutile as
many tend to think. The reason is that most of the white
majority in the racist town will have little if any
reason to believe that they could be similarly sacri-
ficed. Although I have no concrete data, I doubt that,
when the lynching of blacks was popular in the South,
racist whites were worried about their own legal securi-
ty. Because of the problems I have discussed, many
people have rejected act-utilitarianism in favor of
rule-utilitarianism.
Since act-utilitarianism is seriously flawed,
Singer's position, if it is to be defended by utili-
tarianism, must be defended by a rule-utilitarianism of
some kind. Because I do not have time to discuss every
rule-utilitarian theory ever proposed, I should explain
why I plan to focus on R. B. Brandt's theory. His theory
was created largely to avoid many of the problems asso-
164
ciated with act-utilitarianism, to which it is probably
not reducible. That point about reducibility is impor-
tant because, if David Lyons is right, many versions of
rule-utilitarianism will be extensionally equivalent to
act-utilitarianism. In short, they will license and
prohibit the same actions. I obviously do not have time
to review all or even most of Lyons's arguments in Forms
and Limits of Utilitarianism, but I can sketch some of
his ideas that are important to my comments on utili-
tarianism.
Basically, Lyons considers all versions of rule-
utilitarianism to be one of two types, either "primitive"
or "non-primitive." The primitive type will result from
utilitarian generalization applied in a certain way, and
the non-primitive type will typically result in what has
been called "ideal rule-utilitarianism," one version of
which Brandt defends. While primitive rule-utilitarian-
ism will ground the rightness or wrongness of acts in
their generalized utilities, non-primitive versions will
ground the rightness or wrongness of acts in some utili-
tarian characteristic of the set of rules under which the
acts fall. The rules of primitive rule-utilitarianism
will then be determined not by the simple utilities of
discrete acts but by the effects of a number of acts that
might be performed. A system that contained entire sets
165
of these rules justified by a form of utilitarian genera-
lization would be a version of primitive rule-utili-
tarianism. (To see exa~tly why Lyons argues that primi-
tive rule-utilitarianism is extensionally equivalent to
act-utilitarianism, the reader can examine the third and
fourth chapters of Lyons's book.)
Like Lyons, I believe that versions of rule-utili-
tarianism either will be reducible to versions of act-
utilitarianism, or
ideal utilitarianism.
will more or less resemble Brandt's
While I admit that it is possible
to develop a rule-utilitarian theory that diverges some-
what from that of Brandt, I believe that such a theory
will still be vulnerable to a number of my criticisms,
which will apply to any consequentialism. My point can
be illustrated by the idea of justice. Although Brandt,
as we shall soon see, rejects as possibly countenancing
injustice Stephen Toulmin's view, which treats the actual
and recognized moral conventions of a society as more or
less indisputable norms for determining correct conduct,
Brandt's "ideal" rules can be shown also to have trouble
dealing with justice.
I am examining Brandt's version of rule-utilitarian-
ism both because it is one of the most sophisticated
versions ever advanced and because it can be seen as
representing many similar theories. Further, I have no
166
interest in discussing primitive rule-utilitarianisms
because they appear to be vulnerable to my criticism of
act-utilitarianism. Finally, any non-primitive rule-
utilitarianism that diverges from that of Brandt will
most likely be susceptible to some of my anti-consequen-
tialist remarks, particularly those about justice. Let
us first look at Brandt's essay called "Some Merits of
One Form of Rule-Utilitarianism" and then at some of his
most recent thoughts as presented in his book, A Theory
of the Good and the Right (Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1979).
Alert to the counterintuitive implications of act-
utilitarianism, Brandt, as already suggested, defends a
version of rule-utilitarianism. He divides theories of
rule-utilitarianism into two groups, depending on whether
they make the rightness of an act a function of rules
that are ideal in some sense or whether they make the
rightness of an act depend on the actual and recognized
moral norms of a society. We can call theories of the
first kind theories of ideal rule-utilitarianism and
theories of the second kind theories of actual rule-
utilitarianism.
As will soon be seen, Brandt, with some qualifi-
cations, accepts a form of ideal rule-utilitarianism that
he believes resembles the views of Mill in Utilitarianism
and J. D. Mabbot in his 1953 British academy lecture
167
called "Moral Rules." He holds that various forms of
actual rule-utilitarianism have been defended at one time
or other by such philosophers as Stephen Toulmin, John
Rawls, and P. F. Strawson. According to Brandt's under-
standing, many versions of actual rule-utilitarianism
imply that the predominant morality within a society
determines a person's moral obligations in a particular
case, and that the utility of the code or practice de-
termines whether the code or practice is justified or
should be changed. Brandt holds that actual rule-uti-
litarianism, as it is often called, is unacceptable,
because it tends to treat as beyond question conventional
moralities. For example, if the majority of a society
condemn and prohibit working on the Sabbath or marrying a
divorced person, members of that society will be morally
obligated to act in accordance with those prohibitions.
Similarly, some forms of actual rule-utilitarianism will
hold that an act or practice cannot be wrong unless it is
socially prohibited. That implication leads to unaccept-
able consequences, such as a presumption in favor of
institutionalized slavery and racial segregation.
Brandt is not, however, altogether displeased with
actual rule-utilitarianism. Indeed, he believes that
some parts of the theory are correct:
In particular, the theory in some form implies that, if a person has a certain recognized obligation in an institution or practice (e.g., a child to support his aged parent, a citizen to pay his taxes), then he morally does have this obliga-tion, with some exceptions, irrespective of whether in an ideal institution he would or would not have,128
168
He wants to defend a theory that attaches moral impor-
tance to social institutions, but that treats conven-
tional norms as ultimately answerable to ideal rules,
that is, rules whose general acceptance within a society
would produce the most good per person. He writes:
... Let us first say that a moral code is "ideal" if its currency in a particular society would produce at least as much good per person (the total divided by the number of persons) as the currency of any other moral code .... Given this stipula-tion for the meaning of "ideal," the Ideal Moral Code theory consists in the assertion of the following thesis: An act is right if and only if it would not be prohibited by the moral code ideal for the societ ; and an a ent is morall
lameworthh praisewort y for an act if, and to t e degree that, the moral code ideal in that society would condemn (praise) him for it.12g
In spelling out his theory, Brandt (i) explains what
it is for a moral code to have currency, (ii) distin-
guishes between the rules of a society's moral code and
the rules of its institutions, and (iii) describes how
the relative utility of a moral code can be estimated. A
169
moral opinion has currency in a society, according to
Brandt, if at least ninety-percent of the adults in that
society subscribe to that opinion and "a large percent-
age" of adults correctly recognize that the opinion is
overwhelmingly predominant.
The rules of a society's moral code can usually be
distinguished from the rules of its institutions, though
sometimes the distinction is unclear and blurred, as in
the command to honor one's parents. An institution can
be regarded as a set of positions or statuses defined by
privileges and role responsibilities. Persons occupying
different positions cooperate within a system that is
thought to have overarching aims. Brandt gives the
example of a university, which is supposed to further
research and education, and which contains people occu-
pying various positions: deans, professors, students, and
so on. Each person occupying a position has certain
duties and privileges.
If an institution is defined as Brandt defines it,
then it cannot, he maintains, be identical with the moral
rules of a society. For if the predominant moral code of
a society were an institution, then nearly all moral
reasoners within that society would belong to the same
institution. Writes Brandt:
But what is the "purpose" of society as a whole? Are there any distinctions of status, with rigtts and duties attached, which we would identify as the "posi-tions" in the moral system? Can we say that moral rules consist in the assign-ment of jobs in such a way that the aims of the institution may be achieved? ... Society as a whole is obviously not an organization like a university, an educa-tional system, the church, General Motors, etc.; there is no specific goal in the achievement of which each position has a designated role to play.130
1 70
Brandt, it should be added, acknowledges that the
predominant moral code of a society can have implications
that bear on its institutional rules. An institution in
a society might come to be judged immoral in the light of
changing moral norms. And a person can be morally bound
to perform certain institutional duties because of his
promise to perform those duties. Professors and poli-
ticians, for example, have assumed institutional duties
as a result of their choices.
After distinguishing between the rules of a society's
moral code and the rules of its institutions, Brandt
describes how the relative utility of moral codes can be
estimated. He holds, first of all, that the difficulty
of making judgments of comparative utility is not unique
to his theory, but attaches to any plausible theory.
Second, he holds that the ideal moral code of a society
must be simple enough to be learned by ordinary people,
171
with ordinary emotional and intellectual limitations, who
must be able to put
practice within their
mating how much good
would produce in a
institutional setting
the rules of the ideal code
societies. Accordingly, in
the currency of a specific
society, people must regard
of that society as a given.
into
esti-
code
the
For
the goal is to determine which moral code would produce
the most good in the long run in the institutional
setting of the society. Third, and finally, the ideal
moral code will weigh the benefits of reducing unde-
sirable behavior as a result of impressing on people
moral norms against the costs of impressing those norms,
which will include feelings of guilt and alienation, and
the risks inherent in moral training. In short, the
ideal moral code will be careful in its condemnation of
actions.
Brandt believes that in coming to understand his
theory, we shall realize that its implications will
sometimes if not often contradict the implications of
act-utilitarianism. For he maintains that, while the
ideal moral code is designed to produce the most good per
person, it will not contain as one of its rules an in-
junction to do the most good possible. The reason,
according to Brandt, is that such an injunction would
produce chaos if people acted on it. He holds that even
172
in situations involving conflicts between rules, the
ideal moral code need not have to resort to direct
appeals to utility; rather, it is conceivable that in
situations of conflict people could be required to act in
accordance with the hypothetical actions of an intelli-
gent person who had fully internalized the rest of the
ideal moral code. Further, unlike many forms of act-
utilitarianism, Brandt's theory can avoid endorsing
secret optimific murders and secret optimific promise-
breaking, since it would presumably be a bad thing for it
to be generally taught and recognized that a person is
free to commit those actions.
As we have seen, Brandt's theory,
theories, does not imply that
accepted moral rules within a society
perhaps even presumptively binding.
unlike some other
all conventionally
are necessarily or
For he allows the
possibility that some socially accepted practices in a
society would not be endorsed by the ideal moral code for
that society. Since his theory calls for following the
best moral rules that are practicable within a society,
his theory will, however, often, but not inevitably,
endorse many conventionally accepted moral obligations.
He gives the following example.
A child of Hopi Indians is not expected to care for
his father (who is in a different clan), but rather is
173
expected to care for his mother, maternal aunt, and
maternal uncle. Since the institutional obligation does
not coincide well with natural affections, it is not
ideal, at least in a utilitarian sense. Yet, according
to Brandt, his theory might well endorse the current
system of obligations within the Hopi community.
Curiously, the two
the current system
his general theory.
reasons Brandt gives for supporting
do not follow straightforwardly from
He appeals to what he calls an "obligation of
humanity" and an "obligation of fairness." To clarify
the idea of an obligation of humanity, he gives an
example calling for good Samaritanism, in which a person
who is the sole observer of an automobile accident is
uniquely able and hence uniquely required to save a
life. The obligation of fairness, whose defense has been
associated with H.L.A. Hart and John Rawls, applies in
the present context as follows. Brandt believes that the
Hopi system of familial obligation operates like a system
of insurance, which gives people benefits and protections
in exchange for payments. Very roughly, the idea is that
in certain special contexts a person who benefits from a
cooperative scheme is morally bound to repay those bene-
fits, which are the products of other people's sacri-
ficial cooperation.
174
Whether Brandt correctly applies Rawlsian arguments
to the Hopi situation is of no concern here. The ques-
tion instead is: Why does Brandt try to defend institu-
tional obligations on the basis of--one would think--
purely deontological principles? Note that his general
theory requires evaluating societal institutions ulti-
mately not by fairness or justness but by whether those
institutions conform to the moral code ideal for that
society; and the code ideal for that society will con-
tain rules general conformity to which will produce the
most good per person.
The problem is this. Brandt has already admitted
that the Hopi system is not optimific. The only way for
him to be consistent is to maintain that the optimific
rules of familial obligation cannot be realized within
the current Hopi society. He might hold that, say, be-
cause of an unalterable fidelity to tradition and firmly
ingrained attitudes, most members of the Hopi society
cannot assimilate optimific rules. If Brandt did adopt
that style of argument, he would almost certainly be
driven to the undesirable moral conservatism he attri-
butes to many theorists of actual rule-utilitarianism.
For, by parity of reasoning, one could defend institu-
tionalized slavery and the institutionalized mistreat-
ment of minorities.
175
Here it bears repeating th~t Brandt is debarred by
his own theory from appealing to any impracticable rule,
regardless of its hypothetical optimificity. He empha-
sizes that only practicable moral rules can obligate
people; indeed, he asserts that the rules that morally
bind people must be learnable and must be actualizable
within their societies. Perhaps that insistence on
practicability explains why his defense of the Hopi
system appeals to grounds other than a hypothetical
optimificity.
Astutely, Brandt maintains, near the end of his
essay, that his theory might be open to the charge that
it could endorse actions that are so unjust that they
cannot be right. That fear appears to be legitimate.
For, at the very least, his theory will have trouble
explaining what is wrong with injustice. Like all forms
of utilitarianism, his theory is required to object to
injustice by reference to potential decreases in utility
rather than to the inherent value of treating people as
ends in themselves and not merely either as means to ends
or as possessors and producers of utility. The point is
that even if a consequentialist could avoid endorsing
patent injustices, he would have serious trouble in ex-
plaining why injustice is a serious evi 1.
Mill's remarks about security in Chapter Five of
Utilitarianism
176
go far, but, as I mentioned earlier,
probably not far enough, since it is not difficult to
think of seriously reprehensible injustices that would be
so rare and so secret as not to threaten people's
security. It isr again as I mentioned earlier, doubtful
that, say, the injustices committed against blacks in the
United States, seriously threatened the actual or felt
security of most citizens. Nonetheless, those injustices
were serious evils.
B.J. Diggs explains why rules of justice cannot be
adequately understood on Brandt's theory .
... The authority of the rule "One ought not to practice racial discrimination" does not depend on the rule's being generally accepted--this authority is not weakened in a society in which racial discrimination is accepted as the rule. But clearly the authority of this rule also does not depend on the good conse-quences which the rule would have if the rule had at least ninety per cent cur-rency. The obligation to follow it is imposed not by a hypothetical optimifi-city but by a fundamental principle of justice whose authority derives from the moral authority of free persons to pursue goals of their own choice and to legis-late for themselves. The principle asserts the right of all persons to be in the moral community of self-legislating persons.131
Brandt's theory, at least as it is developed in the
essay that I am discussing, will have serious problems
both with defining the moral significance of injustice
177
and with condemning injustice. In short, it is not in-
vulnerable to some problems associated with act-utili-
tarianism. Further, the theory that he develops in his
essay might be more vulnerable to problems with justice
than some other versions of ideal utilitarianism, de-
pending on how seriously we are to take Brandt's re-
quirement that the ideal norms should be practicable
within particular societies.
Since Brandt has fairly recently written more about
his theory, his thought deserves further discussion. Of
primary concern is the question whether Brandt can clear
his theory of the charge that it might endorse actions
and practices that are so seriously unjust as to be
irredeemably wrong. It will be difficult to answer that
question definitively, chiefly because Brandt, in his
book, A Theory of the Good and the Right does not devote
much space to defending his normative theory against
objection. Apart from his remarks on distributive
justice in Chapter XVI, he devotes only two short
sections in Chapter XV to criticisms of his theory.
Because he writes about his theory principally near the
end of his book, it is well to place his comments on the
theory within the general context of his book.
Although Brandt in his book does to some degree
178
describe and defend his theory of the ideal moral code,
most of the book was written not to elaborate on that
theory but to lay for it a rational foundation. In de-
fending his belief that people are morally obligated to
do what would be required by the rules of the moral code
ideal for their society, Brandt summarizes his basic line
of reasoning:
My defence, in brief, is this: a set of moral motivations is justified if it is what it would be if facts and logic were brought to bear on its 'choice' to a max-imal extent--that is, if fully rational persons would tend to support it in pre-ference to any other system and to none. I have argued that when we have identi-fied such a system of motivations, we have found one which is 'justified' for us in the only sense in which a moral system can be justified at the present time. Further, I have proposed (Chapter 10) that we define 'is morally obliga-tory' as 'would be called for by the moral system which is justified, and which fully rational persons would most tend to support.' If this is accepted, then what is called for by justified moral motivations, or by the justified moral code, is morally obligatory. I have argued, with some reservations, that at least for benevolent people this system will be a welfare-maximizing one. We have hardly discussed which principles a welfare-maximizing code would contain, but we know some of them roughly, and know how to go on to identify such principles for specific types of situation.132
The claim with which we are here concerned is that
the only acceptable moral code, at least for "benevolent"
people, is one that maximizes
give reason for believing
rational and benevolent (in
alleviation of suffering as
179
welfare. I shall try to
that a person could be both
the sense of desiring the
a final good), and yet be
opposed to a pure consequentialism. Brandt uses the
qualifying word "benevolent" because he believes that a
happiness-maximizing system may not be fully justifiable
to a selfish person, to whom one may be able to justify
only a Hobbesian morality, or at least the core of a
Hobbesian morality, which can be regarded as constituting
a protective system that would support criminal law.
Brandt maintains that rationally selfish persons can be
interested in parts of a moral code that benefit others,
but only insofar as those selfish persons can themselves
be benefited. Unlike rationally selfish persons, bene-
volent persons will be willing to accept more than re-
ciprocal and mutually beneficial ties: They will desire
the benefits of people and creatures neither harmful nor
beneficial to them, such as future generations, mental
retardates, small children, and animals.
Although Brandt's distinction between the rationally
selfish and rationally benevolent may be workable, he
does not give strong reason to believe that rationally
benevolent persons will want to maximize welfare as their
ultimate end. To show that they would view welfare in
180
that way, Brandt is required, at the very least, to give
reason for believing that the system of utilitarianism he
has in mind will not license seriously unjust actions in
which people are treated merely as means to the achieve-
ment of general utility. In short, he should give reason
for believing that rational people, who, let us suppose,
regard alleviating suffering as a final good, cannot
reasonably oppose his utilitarian theory on grounds of
justice. Although Brandt may be right in holding that it
is unclear what degree of benevolence a fully rational
person would possess,133 it is not at all clear, or per-
haps even reasonable to believe, that rational persons
should value maximizing welfare more than every other
good, including the good of justice, which could in
principle require actions at odds with those required by
generally useful rules.
In his book, A Theory of the Good and the Right,
Brandt tries to respond to the charge that the position
he endorses could, in easily imaginable circumstances,
license unfairness. In evaluating his position described
in "Some Merits of One Form of Utilitarianism," I argued
that his insistence on a rule's practicability within
some current institutional setting will almost certainly
limit his ability to condemn unfair and
that cannot be realistically expected
unjust practices
to be changed
181
within their institutional settings.
In defense of his theory, Brandt tries to respond to
some "paradoxes" (his word). Those paradoxes are de-
scribed in the third section of Chapter XV. The paradox
with which I am now concerned is embodied in the objec-
tion that conformity to Brandt's ideal utilitarian code
"would" (I prefer "could") result in significant unfair-
ness. I shall argue that although Brandt might have an
interesting response to unfairness of certain kinds, he
does not remove all worries about utilitarianly inspired
injustice.
The kind of unfairness Brandt addresses is sometimes
thought to result from conformity to ideal rules in
"maximizing situations." He gives the following exam-
ple. Brandt is on board ship, traveling tourist-class.
As a tourist, he is officially required to stay on the
promenade deck provided for the tourist-class, which,
unlike the promenade deck for the first-class passengers,
is unsuitable for exercise. People have argued, as an
objection to ideal rule-utilitarianism, that even if
long-range welfare were maximized by most tourist-class
passengers respecting the prohibition against being on
the first-class deck, the world might be better if a
small minority of tourist-class passengers unobtrusive-
ly if not quite secretly exercised on the first-class
182
deck. The suggestion is that violation of the rules by a
few might be ideal because it would do no harm, and would
in fact benefit the violators. The current "ideal rule,"
however, would appear to allow for people to take unfair
advantage of others' conformity, for it would allow
people to disobey the ship's rules when most other people
were scrupulously obeying them.
Brandt responds to the objection by claiming that the
currency of the revised ideal rule could not be welfare-
maximizing, since the rule would not be maximally helpful
when publicized and respected. For such a rule would,
according to him, only promote confusion and discontent.
The reason is that people would come increasingly to spy
on their fellow passengers, many of whom would most
likely contribute to an intolerable increase in the
number of visitors in the first-class facilities.134
Brandt maintains that while his position would not
endorse the practice of letting just anyone declare
himself a benefit-producing exception to a rule that is
effective only after most other people obey it, his
position can provide useful criteria for defining classes
of beneficial exceptions to rules. In the case in ques-
tion, he suggests that tourists who want to exercise on
the first-class deck could be required to take turns, or
could be allowed to use that deck only under medical
183
orders.
While Brandt's desire to formulate rules containing
maximally beneficial exceptions makes good utilitarian
sense, it is not at all clear that it answers people's
deepest worries about utilitarianly inspired unfairness.
For it is not at all clear how Brandt can rule out, in
principle, exceptions that are maximally beneficial but
unjust. In a society of deep-seated bigotry there might
well be rules containing exceptions that greatly benefit
the vast majority at the expense of some minority.
Perhaps Brandt would attempt to answer my objection by
holding that his form of utilitarianism provides a basis
for criticizing the moral status quo. Accordingly, he
might point to the passage in which he writes the follow-
ing:
The fact that we start with our present rules does not imply that a complete code would reflect out long-established 'intuitions.' On the contrary, the conception of a happiness-maximizing moral code can have rather revolutionary implications. This would be clear in any country where the moral code forbids racial intermarriage.135
It is, however, not clear how Brandt, from his posi-
tion, can justifiably feel confident in categorically
condemning the prohibition of racial intermarriage. For
while a Kantian could condemn the prohibition against
184
interracial marriage on grounds of personal autonomy,
Brandt must appeal to the consequences of general
conformity to certain rules. He must endorse only those
rules that can be applied within some society's institu-
tional setting, and that can be compatible not only with
the intellectual capacities of the average person in that
society, but also with his degree of selfishness and im-
pulsiveness.
Let me elaborate on the criticism. In a deeply
racist society where the white majority and very many
blacks accept racist practices and definitions as normal,
the vast majority of citizens will oppose interracial
marriage. Further, in such a society it is likely (i)
that the majority will find it psychologically difficult
if not almost impossible to condone interracial marriage,
and (ii) that the racist society will contain a network
of attitudes, social practices, and institutions that
maintain and reinforce the norm against interracial
marriage. In such a society it would be unrealistic to
expect most citizens to accept interracial marriage.
Indeed, such an expectation appears to run counter to
Brandt's prescription that moral rules should be prac-
ticable within a society's current institutions, and at
the very least capable of majoritarian acceptance. By
requiring that moral rules be compatible with most
185
people's emotional, intellectaal, and cultural limita-
tions, Brandt leaves open the possibility that his theory
could endorse injustice.
He might respond by
must be sensitive to social
saying that any ethical theory
and psychological realities.
That response, however, would misfire here. For I am not
advocating blindness to social and psychological limita-
tions imposed by cultural conditioning. Indeed, in
apportioning blame I believe that one must be sensitive
to the agent's level of awareness and cultural condi-
tioning. For example, a person who approved of slavery
in ancient times need not be morally blameworthy in the
obvious way that some contemporary Westerner would be for
expressing similar approval. Although sensitivity to
psychological and cultural limitations may be important
in apportioning blame, that sensitivity is less impor-
tant in determining morally appropriate action. For in
determining the morally right thing to do, we must be
concerned about questions of justice, and a concern for
justice requires a certain degree of intolerance for much
cultural prejudice, however deeply ingrained.
Brandt might reply to my worries about injustice by
insisting that his theory requires people to do the most
good.
... [I]f we understand what the details of such a system really would be, we can see that only a few persons conforming to it in the society where its currency would be welfare-maximizing would almost always be doing what would produce as much good as anything they might do insteact.136
186
Even if that claim is true, it does not appear adequately
to answer worries about injustice. It is well to remem-
ber that when Brandt talks about rules conformity to
which would maximize welfare, he must, according to his
own theory, be talking about rules that have a realistic
chance of being accepted by the majority in the society.
For, as we have seen, he holds that defensible moral
rules are realizable standards, not ideals that would
govern the reasoning of perfectly benevolent, omniscient
utilitarian agents. That emphasis, though it makes his
theory eminently practical, puts it in a precarious
position. For standards that are realizable within the
lives of most people--especially those people living in
particularly ignorant and bigoted societies--may not even
come close to defensible standards of justice.
That point can be illustrated by thinking about
fifteenth century Spain and its treatment of Jews. Even
if some Spanish Catholic of that time treated Jews in
accordance with the most nearly optimific rules rea-
lizable for that time, he would still very likely fail
187
to treat Jews fully as persons, deserving the same degree
respect given to Catholics. As suggested earlier, to the
extent that Brandt requires moral rules to be practicable
within societies, his theory will be possibly even more
vulnerable to problems concerning justice than the utili-
tarian theories that are not as sensitive to social
acceptance.
In any case, Brandt's normative theory in A Theory of
the Good and the Right does not appear to be substan-
tially different from that in "Some Merits of One Form of
Rule-Utilitarianism." It appears that in both writings
Brandt cannot rule out the possibility of countenancing
serious injustice. At the very least, his theory, as a
consequentialism, is required to view the odiousness of
injustice as the odiousness of producing less than
maximal utility.
in explaining
It seems, however, much
the significance of
unjustly, to say that injustice is wrong,
more plausible,
treating persons
not because it
violates some hypothetically, or even actually, optimific
rule, but because it fails to treat persons in accordance
with their nature--free valuers who have the right to
pursue their peaceful goals without being treated merely
as instruments for others' plans or happiness.
Since act-utilitarianism
since Brandt's theory, one
is
of
seriously
the most
flawed, and
sophisticated
188
versions of rule-utilitarianism, is also vulnerable to
serious problems, we may view with suspicion attempts to
ground Singer's extensive duties of rescue simply in
considerations of general utility. Moreover, since it is
difficult to understand how Singer could defend his posi-
tion without appealing to utilitarianism of some form, we
may view with suspicion the case for extensive duties of
rescue. We turn now to the fourth and final chapter,
which contains a summary and a general conclusion.
189
Chapter Four
In this, the fourth and final chapter, I shall first
gesture towards an appropriate good Samaritan statute, and
then summarize my principal conclusions. Let us look at
the Vermont statute, with which I am in general agreement:
(a) A person who knows that another is ex-posed to grave physical harm shall, to the extent that the same can be rendered without danger or peril to himself or without interference with important duties owed to others, give reasonable assistance to the exposed person unless that assistance or care is being provided by others.
(b) A person who provides reasonable assist-ance in compliance with subsection (a) of this section shall not be liable in civil damages unless his acts constitute gross negligence or unless he will receive or expects to receive remuneration. Nothing contained in this subsection shall alter existing laws with respect to tort lia-bility of a practitioner of the healing arts for acts committed in the ordinary course of his practice.
(c) A person who willfully violates tion (a) of this section shall fined more than $100.0o.137
subsec-not be
The statute raises a number of questions and prob-
lems. To begin with, a maximum fine of $100.00 is an
excessively light punishment. Given the moral and social
importance of preventing grave physical harm to people,
that fine is too lenient. As already argued, failures
190
to effect rescues that might have prevented grave injury
or even death are serious moral breaches and are of con-
cern to most citizens, some of whom might some day re-
quire help. (I shall soon discuss in more detail appro-
priate punishment for bad Samaritanism.)
There are also problems of evidence and definition.
The court will have to determine whether someone "know-
ingly" failed to give aid. It will also have to inter-
pret such expressions as "grave physical harm," "danger
or peril," "important duties owed to others," and
"reasonable assistance." Sometimes it will be difficult
if not impossible to determine beyond a reasonable doubt
that the accused knew about the emergency to which he
failed to attend. That evidential problem will normally
be at,sent in cases of strict liability and negligence,
where the law punishes unintended harms and unintentional
failures to exercise reasonable care. Note further that
it is usually easier to prove that someone knowingly
harmed a person than that he knowingly failed to help.
For many people are so distracted by thoughts, drugs, or
"Walk-Man" music that it will sometimes be immensely
difficult to prove that they intentionally ignored some
emergency.
Although those
are not trivial, it
evidential/epistemological
is doubtful whether they
problems
by them-
191
selves can justify the rejection of good Samaritan laws.
For most failures to aid will most likely be unproble-
matic; and in cases where it is almost impossible to
determine whether the accused intentionally ignored the
emergency, juries can and should be instructed not to
convict. Since most crimes require a mental element
(mens rea), the situation with good Samaritan laws is not
in principle different from the situation with other
laws. Even in positive actions, intentions and knowledge
are at times difficult to determine, yet a person's men-
tal state is normally considered essential to the com-
mission of a crime. The point is simply that the claim
"I didn't know" is sometimes much more plausible than at
other times, and that when it is plausible, the accused
should be given the benefit of the doubt.
The expression "grave physical harm," though not free
from all vagueness, is probably clear enough to permit
reasonable judicial discriminations. Although the line
between grave physical harm and moderate physical harm
may sometimes be fuzzy, the distinction is usually
tolerably clear. In borderline cases juries can be
instructed not to convict. As we have seen, Anglo-
American law has generally failed to punish even egre-
gious Samaritans, who have intentionally neglected to
effect easy, life-saving rescues. Arguably, the harms
192
that good Samaritan laws are aimed at preventing or alle-
viating are fairly well defined: rapes, batteries, and
other crimes or accidents threatening life or limb. The
rationale behind the requirement to prevent grave rather
than moderate physical harm is connected to limits on the
moral duty to rescue. For failures to effect aid are
most obviously wrong when they could have prevented grave
injury or death at little or no cost and risk. Inten-
tional failures to try to prevent, for example, a per-
son's drowning or falling over a cliff show a disregard
for a person's basic interests in a way that a failure,
say, to offer him a bandage for a small cut does not. As
already argued, the more immediate, serious, and probable
a harm, the more likely a by-stander will have a moral
duty to try to prevent or alleviate that harm.
The expression "important duties owed to others,"
though not without difficulty, should prove tolerably
precise, largely because it will plainly not apply to
most potential rescuers. Presumably the expression is
needed to exempt from liability people who can save an
imperiled person only by, say, ignoring, or failing
adequately to protect, someone else to whom they have a
prior and more pressing duty. For example, someone who
is rushing a person to the hospital might not have time
immediately to report a battery.
193
There is, however, a question about the following
situation. Suppose that A can save B from drowning only
if A violates a contract made with C, who consequently
suffers financial loss. The problem here is that the "im-
portant duties owed to others" might, morally speaking,
be less important than, say, saving a life. I am in-
clined to think that the Vermont statute should read
"more important duties owed to others," and should call
for compensating a person for any losses that he or
others suffer as a result of his neglecting his other
duties. (Soon I shall talk about who should compensate
the losses.) Although a trucker might have an important
duty to deliver his goods on time, it is questionable
completely to relieve him of the responsibility to help a
seriously injured motorist stranded alongside the high-
way. At best the existence of other, less important
duties should only lessen one's liability for failure to
effect rescue.
It is usually clear when help of certain kinds will
constitute a "peril or danger" to the rescuer. The law
will not,~·, require the average citizen to wrestle a
gun or a knife from a criminal, or require someone to
rescue a person from a burning car, or require a non-
swimmer to rescue a person in hazardous tides. Although
the exceptions just mentioned are fairly straightforward,
194
the following question needs addressing: Should the fear
of future reprisal by a criminal constitute a peril from
which a citizen should be protected? Mininally decent
Samaritans who report crimes should be protected, but not
to the extent of making the reporting of dangerous crimes
optional. To the degree that they are able, police
should try to preserve the anonymity of witnesses and to
protect them. It is at least arguable that the minority
of criminals who do retaliate against witnesses should be
punished more severely than they otherwise would. At any
rate, since reprisals against eyewitnesses by criminals
are probably the exception and not the rule, and since
helping to convict criminals is arguably a citizen's
duty, fear of reprisal should not be recognized as a
justification for failure to report crimes in which there
is a threat of grave physical harm. My position on the
perilousness of rescue might be concluded by saying that
I believe that in cases in which it is unclear whether
the unattempted rescue would have been dangerous, a
finding of not guilty should be returned.
Finally, the idea of "reasonable assistance," though
not pellucid, is tolerably clear. After all, the law
already recognizes the "reasonable man standard," so that
we are not talking here about an entirely novel idea.
The idea will require commonsensical judgments within
the competence of the average citizen.
195
For example, it
is clear that if a person is drowning, reasonable assis-
tance will require the rescuer, to the degree that he is
able, to effect immediate rescue, which would normally
rule out his simply calling the police. If the person
nearest the imperiled swimmer cannot swim, he will be
required to effect the most immediate aid within his
ability and knowledge, which would usually require
finding someone nearby who can swim, or throwing the
drowning person a rope or a life preserver.
Some people will, through no fault of their own, be
unable to effect reasonable assistance. People can be
physically unable to effect reasonable assistance, as
when they are suffering from epileptic seizures, or when
they are physically restrained by others. Or people can
be _p_s-y_c_h_o~l_o=g_i_c_a_l_l~y'--~-i_n_c_a_p~a_b~l_e of effecting reasonable
assistance, as when they are so shocked by seeing blood
or mangled bodies that they become hysterical. Since
those traumatized or physically disabled people deserve
little or no moral blame, and since their non-rescues can
hardly be effectively deterred by law, there is little
moral or pragmatic value in punishing them.
Because the law will be aimed principally at en-
couraging people to do something rather than nothing, it
will be concerned less with whether the potential
rescuers were highly skilled than with whether
196
they
helped at all. Since it 1s reasonable to believe that
most rescue attempts will be sincere, once a rescue at-
tempt is made, the question of "appropriate assistance"
will often be a question whether the rescuer acted with
reasonable care or with gross negligence. For it is
reasonable to hold, with the Vermont statute, that a
person should be civilly liable only when he is grossly
negligent in effecting rescue.
The distinctions mentioned can be drawn by average
citizens. Unless someone can give positive ground for
believing that the distinctions cannot be reasonably
drawn in practice, the difficulty of drawing the dis-
tinctions cannot qualify as a cogent reason for rejecting
good Samaritan laws altogether.
The next question to consider i s : How severely
should bad Samaritans be punished? Although I have
objected to having only a light fine, I have not dis-
cussed in any detail a rationale for determining the
severity of punishment. The beginning of an answer can
be provided by holding that omissions to rescue should be
punished according to their moral seriousness. Natural-
ly, that answer is unhelpful unless one makes some useful
remarks about "moral seriousness."
turn.
To that task I now
197
Omissions are not inherently less morally serious
than "positive" actions. As already suggested, if agent
A deliberately fails to give agent Ba life-saving medi-
cine that is out of B's reach so that A can inherit B's
estate, A's omission is as reprehensible as would have
been any positive attempt by A to remove the medicine
from B's reach. There are, however, complexities here,
since not all failures to prevent harm are as morally
serious as would be their corresponding positive actions.
There are at least three morally relevant differences
between most failures to aid strangers one encounters and
positive deliberate attempts to harm them. First, the
motivation will normally be different. People who inten-
tionally drown, shoot, stab, or otherwise harm others
normally want them injured or killed, and aim at the harm
their actions produce. In contrast, most people who fail
to aid people in emergencies do not wish the imperiled
people any harm, but either do not want to be inconven-
ienced or fear involvement. Second, it is usually easier
for someone to avoid deliberately harming others than to
prevent them from being harmed by someone or something
else. (I shall soon argue that this second difference is
unimportant in evaluating good Samaritan laws.) Third,
and finally, the plight of the people needing rescue need
not be due to the potential rescuer, who might have
198
simply happened upon the emergency. That difference is
emphasized by libertarians, who insist that normally only
special voluntary actions and agreements can generate
positive duties.
While those three differences bear on our judgments
of people's actions and characters, they do not validate
the conclusion that only positive harmings should be
criminalized. First, although going out of one's way to
kill people by, say, drowning them will usually show
malice in a way that omitting to throw a rope may not,
the omission to throw a rope to a drowning person because
of slight inconvenience shows a serious disregard for
human welfare. A disregard for people whose peril one
immediately encounters may be less evil than malicious
attempts at harming them, but it is still a serious
evil. Further, in the most flagrant cases of bad Samar-
itanism, in which people intentionally fail to effect
easy, life-saving rescues, the distinction between doing
an evil and (simply) allowing it does not appear to make
a great moral difference. At any rate, that distinction
does not appear to justify a murder sentence in one case
and merely a light fine in the other. Second, although
it is usually easier to avoid directly harming people
than to prevent harm from befalling them, it will usually
be easy to do what good Samaritan statutes will require,
199
such as throwing ropes to drowning people, or shouting
warnings, or calling the police. The difference in ease
between the two cases does not justify treating failures
to effect rescue lightly.
Let us now draw some conclusions. The moral serious-
ness of omissions depends largely, though not entirely,
on the moral seriousness of the corresponding positive
harms. That contention implies that failing to throw a
rope to a drowning man, when one can do so at virtually
no risk and inconvenience is, when done without malice,
only a little less reprehensible than deliberately drown-
ing him. Those omissions, when performed by non-hysteri-
cal people, reveal a profound disregard for human life.
Even though failure to throw a rope is not, strictly
speaking, to drown someone, it should be seriously pun-
ished because the omitter neglected to save a life he was
specially placed easily to save.
The Vermont statute, which calls for a fine of
$100.00 as a maximum punishment, is too lenient in light
of the gravity of the offense. To determine appropriate
punishments, we must realize that some omissions to aid
are more morally serious than others. For example, a
person who sees that a child is about to fall into a
shallow ditch and neglects to warn the child will, in the
absence of legitimate excuse, be blameworthy. Yet it
200
might be argued that his non-rescue is less blameworthy
than the failure to throw a rope to a drowning person.
The failure to throw the rope is more serious because it
is a failure to prevent a more serious evil--death (as
opposed to possibly serious injury). Although good
Samaritan statutes are designed to encourage the preven-
tion of grave physical harm, some violations of the
statutes will be more morally serious than other viola-
tions. The degree of seriousness should, I believe, be
determined not by the seriousness of the actual, unaver-
ted harms that happened to have been produced but by
judgments (which the emitter should have made at the time
of the emergency) about the probable consequences of
letting the perilous situation run its course.
In good Samaritan law, as in negligence law, a person
should be liable not for the consequences of remarkably
freak accidents but for consequences foreseeable, or
thought probable, by reasonable people. Good Samaritan
law will be most fair and most effective when it is aimed
at punishing intentional non-preventions to which no
legal excuses apply. The law should not require people
to be omniscient, but it should require people to prevent
easily foreseeable harm.
Although I do not want to be extremely specific about
the exact penalties for bad Samaritanism, I can gesture
201
towards a rationale for det0rmining appropriate punish-
ment. As already suggested, I believe that there should
be a range
tive to the
embodied in
of punishments, so that the law can be sensi-
different degrees of disregard for people
different acts of bad Samaritanism. The most
serious penalties should be applied to cases in which
someone intentionally and quite inexcusably fails to
prevent a death foreseeable by any reasonable person.
Those people deserve at least as much punishment as is
now meted out to drunken drivers found guilty of "invol-
untary manslaughter." Less reprehensible are failures to
shout warnings to people who are about to fall into
ditches and failures to call the police to report serious
fist fights between adolescents. Although I cannot pre-
scribe exact punishments without knowing the exact de-
tails of the cases, I can say that the punishments
should, as I held earlier, be determined by the nature of
the harm reasonably foreseeable by the emitter. The idea
is that various ranges of punishments might be morally
acceptable, provided that those ranges should be deter-
mined by the seriousness of the offending omissions. And
the seriousness of the offending omissions should be de-
termined basically by the seriousness of the correspond-
ing positive harms. More
the omissions should, as I
precisely, the seriousness of
suggested earlier, be deter-
202
mined by judgments (which the omitter should have made at
the time of the emergency) about the probable conse-
quences of letting the perilous situation runs its course.
The final question to consider is that of compensa-
tion for injuries or damages involved in rescue. Since I
want to require rescue, it is only reasonable to make the
duty to rescue as fair and unburdensome as possible. To
that end I have agreed with the Vermont statute in
exempting rescuers from civil liability for damages
except in cases of gross negligence. If we impose a
general duty of rescue, we should not expose people to
situations in which they can be almost routinely sued and
found liable for injures. I shall argue that exemption
from civil liability is not enough. There is a case for
th~ government, in some circumstances, to compensate
rescuers for injuries and damages.
The principal rationale for state compensation is
that, by legally requiring the rescue of strangers, the
state is putting its citizens at risk. If putting some-
one at risk can generate duties to attend to his welfare,
the case against compensation cannot be established sim-
ply by the unsupported claim that harms incurred in the
pursuit of moral or legal duties do not warrant compen-
sation. In short, my argument is based on the contention
that in at least some circumstances, soon to be discussed,
203
a rescuer deserves compensation for his injuries.
The counterclaim is that if a citizen does nothing
supererogatory, he should not be "rewarded" for acting as
a decent human being. That position is questionable,
first, because it presupposes that injuries produced by
actions in discharge of moral requirements never deserve
compensation, and, second, because it misconceives com-
pensation for injuries as a reward. For my purposes my
second claim is the more important of the two and the one
that I shall now support. My view is that compensation
in the context under discussion does not reflect grati-
tude for services rendered, but embodies a recognition
that rescues, even easy-appearing ones, can sometimes
turn out to be costly; rescuers can suffer injury to
themselves or damage to their property. (I am not here
concerned with the question whether people should be
compensated for performing supererogatory rescues.)
Although my principal argument for compensating
injured rescuers rests on the claim that good faith
rescuers deserve compensation for their injuries, there
are pragmatic and utilitarian benefits to compensation.
I mention those benefits not because I believe that they
can by themselves uncontroversially justify laws and
governmental practices, but because they constitute
further motivation for compensating people once we grant
204
that they deserve the compensation. Since we are very
much concerned with encouraging minimally decent Samari-
tanisrn, and since encouraging the fulfillment of these
duties is in everyone's interest, there is some motiva-
tion to induce people to help others by making the burden
of helping them as light as possible. To that end we
might try to remove, to the degree that we can, one of
the principal disincentives to rescue, namely, the fear
of injuries and damages attendant upon rescue. Again,
the utilitarian argument is intended here as the icing on
the cake and not as the cake itself (i.e.' the argument
from desert).
It is all to easy for opponents of compensation to
think that, because good Samaritan laws will require only
easy rescues, risk~ of dangers are easily foreseen and
neutralized. That is not always true. For even in
recues that might appear easy, or rescues that would
normally be easy, conscientious people can be so rushed
that they trip or otherwise harm themselves or others.
Further, people can, for example, be struck in their
noses or eyes as they are rescuing people who are drown-
ing. Finally, people can be so intent on performing a
rescue that they do not adequately protect themselves
against injuries. Such people need not be blameworthy;
they may simply be so anxious about saving someone that
205
they exercise less care than they would have exercised in
less trying circumstances.
If there is, as I suggest, a good case for compensat-
ing the injuries and damages incurred in good faith
rescues, questions will arise about the source of the
compensation.
circumstances
In short, who should pay? Under what
should the government and not private
citizens pay? In the essay "Law, Morals and Rescue" A.
M. Honore suggests a number of possibilities, with which
I am in general agreement.138
In cases in which the injured rescuer has accident
insurance, like that of firemen and other professional
rescuers, his insurance could compensate him. In cases
in which the injured rescuer has no insurance it is
arguable that the person through whose fault the peril
arose should, to the degree that he can, be required to
compensate the rescuer. Now the following question
arises: Who should compensate people for injuries in (i)
cases in which those at fault cannot afford to pay for
some or all the damages, or (ii) cases in which no one is
at fault? Honore suggests, plausibly I think, that the
imperiled person might be reasonably expected to pay for
injuries and damages in cases in which no one is at
fault, because it is plausible to ground his duty to pay
in his wanting to be saved and his profiting at the
206
rescuer's expense. We are, after all, talking about
cases in which the rescuer does what the imperiled person
can be presumed to want done when it is impracticable to
obtain the imperiled person's consent. The remaining
case, in which no private citizen involved can afford to
pay, could call for State compensation, since the State
has put the rescuer at risk by requiring his interven-
tion. Although I realize that I have not given a de-
tailed account of compensation, my goal was simply to
give a general rationale for appropriate sources of
compensation.
The highlights of my position can now be summarized.
I evaluated arguments against good Samaritan laws and
found them unconvincing. For the laws cannot be
plausibly regarded as requiring unfortunate people to
confer gifts on strangers. I held that saving a person
from drowning by minimal risk and effort is not analogous
to giving someone a gift or a gratuity. The reason is
that a calm and deliberate failure to save innocent
strangers from serious injury or death, when one can save
them at little or no risk and cost, reveals a serious and
reprehensible disregard for people's humanity. I also
held that good Samaritan laws cannot be plausibly re-
garded as requiring charity in fulfillment of imperfect
obligation, because those laws require us to help
207
identifiable persons who are arguably entitled to that
help, and who could be plausibly regarded as having a
grievance against us if we refrain from helping them.
(Even a theorist who does not believe that imperiled
people have a "right" to be saved might hold that we are
morally required to help those people because of, say, a
duty of beneficence.) Further, I held that the laws
cannot be plausibly regarded as requiring heroism or
saintliness, since they require people to behave simply
as minimally decent people who can sometimes prevent
grave harm at little or no risk and cost.
I maintained that we can draw a workable and prin-
cipled distinction between reasonable and unreasonable
requirements of rescue, between duty and supererogation.
Although general duties of rescue might well be regarded
as restricting liberty more than typical criminal prohi-
bitions, the slightly greater limitation on liberty is
offset by the moral and social importance of preventing
grave physical injury or death. For the limitation on
liberty will not be oppressive, since most people will
rarely if ever find themselves in situations to which the
good Samaritan statutes will apply. What is more, when
people do find themselves subject to good Samaritan laws,
they will be able to prevent grave harm at little or no
risk and cost.
208
It is now appropriate to conclude the positive side
of my argument. I think that there are at least two
promising ways of defending good Samaritan laws. The
first, and more controversial, way is to attempt to base
the laws on a straightforward version of the harm prin-
ciple, which would endorse limitations of liberty to
deter people from causing harm to others without justifi-
cation. Presumably one straightforward version of the
harm principle would require prohibiting only those
set-backs to people's interests that occur as consequen-
ces of wrongful conduct. On that understanding of the
harm principle, good Samaritan laws can be justified only
if bad Samaritanism can be regarded as causing harm.
Does bad Samaritanism harm people? I argued that it
is plausible to regard bad Samaritanism as harmful in-
action in which people are wronged. I argued that fail-
ure to act in accordance with clearly defined (moral)
expectations can in some circumstances be said to have
consequences, including harmful ones. Given that analy-
sis and the moral acceptability of minimal duties of
rescue, bad Samaritanism can be plausibly regarded as
contributing to unprevented harm.
But what if someone rejects the view
Samaritanism causes harm, and believes that
that bad
it merely
209
allows harm to happen. My and Feinberg's answer is that
the distinction between causing harm and (simply) not
preventing it is not morally significant in cases re-
quiring minimally decent Samaritanism. The idea is that
the prevention of harm can in certain circumstances be so
morally important as to warrant legal sanction. In
short, even if we reject the causal efficacy of bad
Samaritanism, we can, I argued, reasonably accept the
second way to defend good Samaritan laws: the appeal to
an expanded version of the harm principle. According to
the expanded principle, there is a presumption in favor
of legally requiring one (i) to avoid harming others (by
"direct" action) and (ii) to make reasonable attempts (at
little or no risk and cost) to prevent grave physical
harm to people whom one
help. I conclude that
is in a special position to
because the leading arguments
against good Samaritan laws are unconvincing, and because
the positive warrant for the laws is reasonable, the laws
are acceptable.
210
NOTES
lJudith Thomson, and Public Affairs 1,
"A Defense of Abortion," Philosophy no. 1, pt. 6 (1971): 62-64.
2Aleksander W. Rudzinski, "The Duty to Rescue: A Com-parative Analysis," in James M. Ratcliffe, ed., The Good Samaritan and the Law (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday Anchor Books, 1966), p.92. The countries listed are Portugal (1867), the Netherlands (1881), Italy (1889 and 1930), Norway (1902), Russia (1903-17), Turkey (1926), Denmark (1930), Poland (1932), Germany (1935 and 1953), Romania (1938), France (1941 and 1945), Hungary (1948 and 1961), Czechoslovakia (1950), Belgium (1961), and Switzerland (various cantons at various dates).
3see, ~' Craig v. State, 220 Md. 590, 155 A.2d 684.
4An example of a status relationship that can generate positive duties is the relationship between parent and child. See State v. Staples, 126 Minn. 396, 148 N.W. 283 (1914) (criminal action). Other duty-generating relationships include those between a master and his apprentice and those between a ship's master and his crew and passengers.
5People v. Montecino, 66 Cal. App.2d 85, 152 P.2d 5.
6Reg. v. Nicholls, 13 Cox. Crim. Cas. 75.
7Rex v. Russell [1933] V.L.R. 59.
8Thus, the New Hampshire court said in 1897 [Buch v. Amory Manufacturing Co., 69 N.H. 257, 44 Atl. 809 (1897)]:
"With purely moral obligations the law does not deal. For example, the priest and the Levite who passed by on the other side were not, it is supposed, liable at law for the continued suffering of the man who fell among thieves, which they might and morally ought to have prevented or relieved. Suppose A, standing close by a railroad, sees a two-year old babe on the track and a car approaching. He can easily rescue the child with entire safety to himself. And the instincts of humanity require him to do so. If he does not, he may perhaps justly be styled a ruthless savage and a moral monster, but he is not liable in damages for the child's injury or indictable under the statute for its death."
9vt. Stat. Ann., tit.12 §519 (Supp. 1971).
lOA.D. Woozley, "A Duty to Rescue: Some Criminal Liability," Virginia Law Review, p.1274.
211
Thoughts on 69 (1983),
llFor details about the genesis of the bill, see Marc Franklin, "Vermont Requires Rescue: A Comment," Stanford Law Review, 25 (1972), pp. 51-61.
12see Comment, "Wisconsin's 'Good Samaritan' Statute," 48 Marg. L. Rev. 81 (1964-65).
13section 5 of the Principles of Medical Ethics of the American Medical Association reads as follows: "A physician may choose whom he will serve. In an emer-gency, however, he should render service to the best of his ability ... " Reprinted in STETLER & MURITZ, DOCTOR AND PATIENT AND THE LAW, App. C. at 455 (4th ed. 1964).
14The genesis of the California statute is discussed in Holland, "The Good Samaritan Laws: A Reappraisal," 16 J. PUBLIC L. 128, 130 (1967), and Note, "Torts: California Good Samaritan Legislation: Exemptions From Civil Liability While Rendering Emergency Medical Aid,'' 51 CALIF. L. REV. 816, 817-18 (1963).
15cAL. BUS. & PROF. CODE §2144 (West 1962).
16The 1967 bill was introduced as H.18. The bill passed the House, but the Senate added amendments, including a duty to aid. For the amendments see the JOURNAL OF THE HOUSE OF THE STATE OF VERMONT, Biennial =s_e_s_s..,...i_o_n---,,.6-=o-=-5-_=o...,.6--r(-:-1=9..,,..6=7....-)-. --------------
17see JOURNAL Biennial Session follows:
OF THE HOUSE 605-06 (1967).
OF THE STATE OF VERMONT, The statute reads as
(a) A person who knows that another is exposed to grave physical harm shall, to the extent that the same can be rendered without danger or peril to himself or without interference with important duties owed to others, give reasonable assistance to the exposed person unless that assistance or care is being provided by others.
(b) A person who provides reasonable assistance in compliance with subsection (a) of this section shall not be liable in civil damages unless his acts
212
constitute gross negligence or unless he will receive or expects to receive remuneration. Nothing con-tained in this subsection shall alter existing law with respect to tort liability of a practitioner of the healing arts for acts committed in the ordinary course of his practice.
(c) A person who (a) of {his section $100.00.
willfully shall be
18charles Fishman, "Why Alleged Cannot be Charged." Washington Post, Dl and Dll.
19Ibid., Dll.
20Ibid.
21Ibid.
22Ibid.
violates subsection fined not more than
Onlookers to 16 Nov. 1984,
Rape pp.
23Joel Feinberg, The Moral Limits of the Law, Vol. 1 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1984), pp. 128-129.
24Ibid., pp. 129-130.
25union Pacific Ry. Co. v. Cappier, 66 Kan. 649, 72 p.283 (1903).
26Jeffrie G. Murphy, "Blackmail: Inquiry," The Monist 63, no.2 (1980).
27Feinberg, op.cit., p.136.
28Ibid., p.142.
29Ibid., p.142.
30Ibid., pp.140-142.
31Ibid., p.141.
32Ibid., p.140.
33Ibid.
A Preliminary
213
34Ibid., p.143.
35Richard Epstein, "A Theory of Strict Liability," in Philosophical Issues in Law, ed. Kenneth Kipnis (Engle-wood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1977), p.130.
36Ibid., p.131.
37A.D. Woozley, "A Duty to Rescue: Criminal Liability," Virginia Law p.1299.
Some Thoughts on Review 69 (1983),
38James Fishkin, The Limits of Obligation (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1982), p.72.
39Lord Thomas Macaulay, Code," in Works, 8 vols. (New Co., 1887), Vol. 7, p.494.
40ibid.
41Ibid., p.495.
"Notes on the Indian Penal York: Longmans, Green and
42Feinberg, op.cit., pp.154-157.
43Macaulay, op.cit., p.495.
44Ibid., pp.496-497.
45feinberg, op.cit., p.155.
4 6 Ibid. , pp. 15 6-15 7.
47Ibid., p.157.
48Ibid.
49Ibid., p.158.
50ibid., pp.163-164.
5lrbid., p.167.
52rbid.
S3rbid., pp.159-161.
s4rbid., p.161.
ssrbid., p.174.
214
56Eric Mack, "Bad Samaritanism and the Causation of Harm," Philosophy and Public Affairs 9 (1980): p. 241.
s7rbid., p. 244.
58feinberg, op.cit., p.182.
5 9 Ibid. , pp. 18 2 -18 3.
60rbid., p.183.
6lrbid., p.176.
62rbid., p.177.
63rbid.
64rbid., p.184.
65Ibid.
661bid.
67rbid.
68rbid., pp.184-185.
69rbid., p. 185.
70M k . ac , op.cit.,
71Ibid., p. 240.
72rbid.
73rbid., p. 241.
74Ibid., p. 240.
p.244.
75feinberg, op.cit., p.185.
76rbid., p.186.
77rbid.
78Gerald Dworkin, "Paternalism," in Morality and the Law, ed. Richard A. Wasserstrorn (Belmont: Wadsworth Publishing Co., 1971), p. 114.
79John Stuart Mill, On Liberty, ed. Gertrude Hirnmelfarb (Middlesex: Penguin Books Ltd., 1983), p.72.
215
so Ibid., p. 143.
s1Ibid., p.151.
82H.L.A. Hart, Law, Libert~ and Morality (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1963 , p.33.
83The words are from Himmelfarb's introduction to On Liberty, p.33.
84nworkin, op.cit., p.117.
85Mill, op.cit., p.173.
86Ibid.
87nworkin, op.cit., p.120.
88Ibid., p. 121.
89Joel Feinberg, Social Philosophy (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1973), p.47.
90Ibid.
91Ibid., p.48.
92M. 11 . 1 , op. C 1 t. , p.166.
93feinberg, Social Philosophy, pp. 50-51.
94John Harris, "The Marxist Conception of Violence," in Philosophical Issues in Law, ed. Kenneth Kipnis (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1977), p.138. The quotation is from Frederick Engels, The Condition of the Working Class in England, trans. and ed. Henderson and Chaloner (Oxford, 1958), p.108.
95The quotation is used in Harris's "The Marxist Con-ception of Violence," p.140. It is from Karl Marx, Capital I, ed. Engels, trans. Moore and Aveling (London, 1887; repr. 1957), chap. XV, sec. 8.c. p.480.
96rhose conditions are described in Harris's essay, p.141. Harris gives the following citation: Eric D'Arcy, Human Acts (Oxford, 1963), pp. 47-49, 55.
97Harris ibid. ' 98Harris, ibid., p.142.
99rbid.
1001bid., p.143.
1011bid., p.144.
1021bid., p.143.
216
1031bid. quotes from Morality and 1971), p.187.
Those conditions are cited by Harris, who John Casey, "Actions and Consequences," in Moral Reasoning, ed. John Casey (London,
1041bid., pp.143-144.
1051bid., p.144.
1061bid.
1071bid., p.148.
108rbid., p.144. The quotation is taken from H.L.A. Hart anc.r--A.M. Honore, Causation in the Law (Oxford, 1959), p.35.
1091bid., p. 145.
llOrbid., p.146.
1111bid., p.149.
112Mack, op.cit., p.240.
1131bid., p. 241.
114Harris, op.cit., p.149.
115Ibid., p.146.
ll61bid., p.140.
117M k . ac , op. c 1 t. , p.241.
118Harris, op.cit., p.138.
119Peter Singer, "Famine, Affluence, and Morality," Philosophy and Public Affairs, 1, No. 3 (Spring 1972), 231.
1201bid.
217
121rbid., p. 241.
122R.B. Brandt, N.J.: Prentice-Hall,
Ethical Theory (Englewood Inc., 1959), p.387.
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123R.G. Frey, in the and Rights, ed. R.G. Frey Minnesota Press, 1984), p.7.
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Utility of
124R.B. Brandt, Ethical Theory, pp.389-390.
125navid Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature, L.A. Selby-Bigge, ed. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1888), p.497.
126John Rawls, "Two Concepts of Rules," Philosophical Review, 64 (1955) 16.
127J,J.C. Smart and Bernard for and against (Cambridge: 1973), pp.69-72.
Williams, Utilitarianism: Cambridge University Press,
128Richard Brandt, "Some Merits of One Form of Rule-Utilitarianism" in Readin s in Contem orary Ethical Theory, ed. Kenneth Pahel an Marvin Sc 11 er Englewoo Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1970) p.288.
129Ibid., p. 291.
130Ibid., pp.293-294.
131B. J. Diggs, "A Comment on 'Some Meri ts of One Form of Rule-Utilitarianism"' in Readings in Contemporary Ethical Theory, ed. Kenneth Pahel and Marvin Schiller (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1970), p.315.
132R.B. Brandt, A Theory of the Good and the Right (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1979), pp.304-305.
133Ibid., p.293.
134Ibid., p.299.
135rbid., p.293.
136rbid., p.300.
13 7 Vt . St at . Ann. tit. 12 , § 51 9 (19 7 3) .
138A.M. Honore, "Law, Morals, Rescue," phical Issues in Law, ed. Kenneth Kipnis Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1977), pp.112-113.
in Philoso-(Englewood
218
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