What justice can’t buy

Ethics is often defined as what we ought and ought not to do. It has been deliberated by philosophers for ages but before that communities had ways of identifying what was “good” for their societies

Religious belief helped to consolidate good behaviour and charity towards others – mostly in the same community, as there is more than enough history that when it comes to other religious groups, war entailed, which was curtailed by the necessity for business transactions.

Ethics has now moved from being prescriptive on particulars to being prescriptive on issues which may elude us. Thus, particulars like abortion and euthanasia find a lot of opposition and the correct ethical thing, according to major ethics groups such as the European Group on Ethics in Science and Technology, would be to embrace dialogue and solidarity and to balance concepts such as communitarian needs with autonomous needs (and so-called rights). Does one actually have a universal right to abortion or euthanasia? Rights are either considered to be of Divine nature, or “natural”. That abortion is not a natural right is inherent in the very fact that humans are the only beings which contemplate it. But rationality also tells us that sometimes it may be considered – such as when actual reproductive rights are violated through rape and sex with minors, or when the pregnancy is a threat to life. Unfortunately, the more conservative institutions take time to adjust to these compromises as they see slippery slopes. But concepts such as solidarity and dialogue (as opposed to word-wars) give a reasonable judgement in favour of the former. Unfortunately as well, some hard-line liberals would tell us that all that is possible is natural.

The main problem with ethics is the inherent war on whether ethics should be based on principles or on virtues. Principles are good but they have limits especially when one principle comes into conflict with another – such as the principle of respecting the autonomy of the individual coming into direct contact with the principle of causing no harm. Conversely virtue is probably the best ethics which gives value, integrity and respect to an individual. But unfortunately, virtues are changing all the time. What does it mean to dress decently? Probably all would agree that moving around naked, even if a person has autonomy, can be an insult to public norms or morality. But what about fashion, which is provocative as opposed to the right to wear what one wants, a principle overriding a virtue. The issue moves into the work environment and the dress code. Of course, there is no doubt that some dress wear is intended for the person not only to feel good about oneself, but also to look sexy and to attract. That one then cries out against for other peoples’ silly remarks makes one think that once one puts oneself on show, one is allowing everyone to look, even those whom one may not wish. We then witness unforgiveable consequences. A friend told me it is ironic to see “Catholics” less than half dressed and Muslim women covering their bodies and we have the audacity to condemn the latter as being oppressed while the former are principled.

Principles also do away with virtues such as compassion, respect and love. Principles such as respecting autonomy, the principle of doing no harm, the principle of justice, and, in health care, the principle of beneficence, can easily become codes of ethics and even law. But no law can make us be kind, or compassionate, or to compel us to love our family, let alone others. These are personal choices and hence fulfil the definition of integrity and what it means to be kind. Virtues lead easily to principles such as justice, but the converse is not the case. Having a principle of Justice (in the legal sense, of course) cannot compel us to compassion or love towards each other; perhaps not even to respect others. In fact, even the remark that “Justice not only has to be done, but has to be seen to be done”, usually reflects only on punishment rather than on merit.

Then there are things to be cautious about – such as pride, vice, vanity, etc. Of course, these derive from virtues rather than principles. No law can prohibit us from being vane or proud (one only has to look at Facebook – proud to be… or proud to have…) but virtue can make us think about compassion towards those who were not so lucky as we are or to carry our achievements without too much pomp. No principle or law can oblige us to do this. It is inherent in one’s character and becoming less and less popular today, unfortunately. There is nothing wrong with being proud, perhaps, but flaunting it like material gushing out of a sewer is debatable.

The integrity of men and women depends on their genuine interaction with one another and not on a non-genuine interest out of possible business opportunities in the future or simply to be liked. Happy should be the professor who sees his or her student rise to heights beyond what he did; vane is the professor who puts spokes in the wheels of a former student because he or she fears that they may outshine them. But actions derive from the fact that we believe only in principles. Even being a good Christian may often depend on simply believing in the principles enshrined in that religion and not about what that religion is really about – the golden rule of doing unto others what you would have others do unto you (which is virtues); as opposed to not doing to others what you would not have others do to you (which is usually based on principles) – both of which we refer to as the “golden rule”. It is what we do and how we act that counts.

A virtuous person does not need to sharpen one’s sword when he or she believes in solidarity in introducing a law. What is important to them is that there is a dialogue which not only listens and respects but is willing to move to a so-called Aristotelian Mean, to meet each other halfway, even if it costs – in other words, a dialogue that is meaningful and willing to budge a little. If it does not cost you anything one can only conclude to things – 1. You have not sacrificed anything and 2. The other party has probably not gained anything either, or, lost.

The war between liberalism and conservatism is not a healthy one as it is based on taking sides and using politics as a lever. Virtuous people look for the good of others and not for the good of one part. It acknowledges that we have to sacrifice. It does not focus only on “rights”. Rights are basic things we should all agree upon. Unfortunately, we are now entering an era of deconstructing and reconstructing, and building rights based on “me” or “us” against “them”; an era where we do not agree on universal rights and in which the right for one to be called “they” means a legal imposition on another to use the term, as happened in Canada, and which some universities are now imposing, with punitive measures to those who don’t. The latter are seen to be using speech now which is suddenly “offensive”. Some young people now assert the belief that they should be given their own time to decide whether they are a boy or a girl. Since Foucault and Nietzsche, we have been deconstructing society and constructing a new one in which there are men, women and a hundred in-betweens. We have been calling traditional virtues as based solely on a so-called genealogy. No virtuous person can be expected to follow the myriad of changes being proposed in the re-constructed world of today, even if well-intended. It’s like obliging people to call someone a professor because that is what he or she chose to be called. Is it un-virtuous to insist that one cannot impose on me how to address people other than in the way I have been raised? How can one change the rules (and laws) in the middle of the game?

I do not know if I am a virtuous person. That is for others to judge. What I can do is try. It costs. Seeking a meaningful bioethical dialogue means moving away from the thought that one is right and that’s it. It means being ready to understand each other compassionately and see how one can in a licit way meet each other half way.

Pierre Mallia is Professor of Family Medicine and Patients’ Rights and teaches at the University of Malta. He chairs the Bioethics Research Programme of the Faculty of Medicine and Surgery. He also chairs the Bioethics Consultative Committee.

This article is his personal opinion and does not represent the opinion of any committee or Board he serves on.