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Switzerland JUST voted on a referendum to grant “domestic creatures” the right to sue in court. The vote is SO fresh (happened yesterday), even the Great Google doesn’t know the result! It’s too late to influence my Swiss readers, but what should the rest of us think?

Is cuteness a morally relevant feature?

“Treat like cases alike” is a meta-ethical principle penetrating virtually every moral tradition. It also undergirds legal systems, ensuring predictability and fairness. If Speeder A gets a $100 ticket for driving 70 in a 35, Speeder B, also doing 70 in a 35, deserves a $100 ticket too. Unless, that is, there’s a moral difference–like Speeder A was drag racing, but Speeder B was rushing to the hospital to give birth.

With that principle in mind, whether animals should have rights, and what sorts of rights, largely depends on whether they’re relevantly similar to humans.

Peter Singer famously argued that non-human animals are relevantly similar to humans in that they can experience pleasure and pain. Orgasms are equally enjoyable, and broken bones equally painful, whether they’re experienced by humans or hippos. Singer concluded that it’s therefore “speciesist” to arbitrarily rank creatures based on their biological category, just like it’s “racist” to arbitrarily rank humans based on their race. Neither DNA nor ethnicity is all that important when it comes to assigning moral worth. It’s the ability to feel pleasure and pain that really counts. And on that metric, humans and non-human animals are equal, and so should be treated equally. Since we wouldn’t harvest and kill humans simply to enjoy the taste of their flesh, we shouldn’t harvest and kill non-human animals simply to enjoy the taste of their flesh either.

Tom Regan settled on a similar conclusion, but used different premises to get there. He argued that whether a creature is a “subject of a life” was the important question to ask. That is, a thing has moral standing if it has emotions, thinks, makes decisions, has a sense of personal identity, and has some sense of time. Since all normal adult mammals are subjects of a life, they should be granted legal protections on par with those humans enjoy. The result would be a complete prohibition on hunting, factory farming and animal testing.

Both Singer and Regan make strong cases. But notice that neither prioritized the capacity to engage in higher reason–precisely what distinguishes humans from non-human animals. Giraffes make decisions–that’s clear enough. But as far as we can tell, they don’t ponder the nature of the universe. The question is, is being able to ponder the nature of the universe morally relevant?

Being able to engage in higher reason is morally relevant in that it allows a creature to be part of what Allen Fox calls a “moral community.” Pondering the nature of the universe isn’t a big deal, but being able to make ethical decisions–distinguish right from wrong, be motivated to do what’s right, and then act according to what’s right–is. It’s important because it enables a sort of reciprocity and mutual respect. Dogs and humans are similar in all the ways Singer and Regan mention. But this one key aspect sets us apart. Dogs can be good natured and obey their masters, but they can’t think through tough ethical quandaries or be motivated to act simply for the sake of acting rightly.

However, that doesn’t mean non-human animals lack any moral standing at all. It’s pretty clear that Singer and Regan’s arguments give us reason to take seriously the interests of non-human animals. Being able to feel pleasure and pain, having a sense of identity, experiencing emotions and the like do carry moral weight. But that key difference gives us good reason to place humans on a higher plane.

So, should animals have rights? Of course! Rights to natural habitat? Rights to bodily integrity? Rights to sue in court? I’ll leave that to the Swiss voters to decide! But I think it’s pretty clear that non-human animals do in fact deserve a strong degree of legal protection due to all the morally relevant similarities they share with humans. It’s appropriate to distinguish ourselves as full members of the moral community, but we should never be so arrogant as to treat thinking, feeling and loving animals as mere things.

Would-be mothers sometimes have compelling interests in aborting—to keep a job or continue college or maintain a marriage. But unborn developing humans (UDHs) have great moral value—they’re potential persons, and in the later stages of pregnancy, already possess many of the features of personhood (consciousness, ability to feel pleasure & pain, ability to form rudimentary relationships, ability to experience emotions, etc). Since ending pregnancy has traditionally meant ending a life, policies have had to prioritize one party’s interests over the other. But what if the tension could be resolved?

"Artificial Womb 1" by Janalee Robinson

Ectogenesis—incubating unborn developing humans with advanced neonatal technologies or genetically altered non-human hosts—promises to do just that. Imagine if anytime a woman decided she didn’t want to continue a pregnancy, doctors could simply remove the UDH and incubate elsewhere. Abortion debate solved. Almost.

One concern is how to do it. Sweedish philosopher Stellan Welin entertains the possibility of transferring UDHs into genetically modified pigs. And given success transplanting pig organs into humans, this sounds technologically promising. But it also sounds gross! Growing UDHs in pigs might be preferable to termination, but who wants their baby’s momma to be a bona fide swine?

More palatable would be advanced neonatal technologies. With the viability date inching earlier every year, machines that can grow a UDH from conception to 9 months may simply be a matter of time.

Another concern is whether a UDH’s genetic mother should have a say in whether it lives or dies. Assuming the woman does indeed have a prima facie right to control her body, does that right extend beyond simply having a UDH removed and into decisions about whether it’s subsequently nurtured or terminated?

I say no. Just as every serious person in the abortion debate recognizes that women sometimes have serious reasons to abort, they also recognize that UDHs possess great moral value. They’re not simple clumps of cells—they’re potential persons. Were ectogenesis an option, relieving a potential mother of the burden of pregnancy would no longer require termination. With her interests intact, I see no reason why the genetic mother should be empowered with life and death authority. Authority over her body, yes. But not over the UDH’s life.

And one last worry concerns money. If there were ever an imperative to pursue a technology, this is it. But research isn’t cheap.

Solution? Given the state’s obligation to promote current and future citizens’ interests, this is clearly something Uncle Sam ought to fund. (Sorry NASA—this takes priority.) Also, if they only knew about it, I suspect religious organizations would fight over the opportunity to throw money at this. Pro-life groups–spend your money here, not on distasteful posters.

Special thanks to colleague Dustin Nelson for initially broaching the subject, to Stellan Welin for the inspiring article “Reproductive Ectogenesis: The Third Era of Human Reproduction and some Moral Consequences,” and to my Fall 09 Professional Responsibility students at UT for thinking through this issue with me. And if anyone out there knows of researchers taking this possibility seriously, put us in touch–especially if they need a new PR agent.

It’s health reform crunch time and the propagandists are busily at work. Increasingly louder are cries that government “death panels” will oversee end of life care, eager to pull the plug on grandma to cut costs. Advocates of a government option quickly dismiss the idea as a shameless scare tactic, something no civilized people could ever entertain. Life is sacred, and of course we’ll gladly extend human life as long as technologically possible. But is it OK for us to ask our fellow citizens to bear the costs of an excessively long death? Is it even OK to ask our families to bear those costs–the emotional and financial burdens of stretching death for weeks? Months? Out of respect of our loved ones, John Hardwig says no, and here I apply that same logic to the bigger picture, extending his “duty to die” onto anyone receiving healthcare at the taxpayers’ expense.

It is these connections that can, tragically, generate obligations to die as continuing to live takes too much of a toll on the lives of those connected to us.–John Hardwig from Is There a Duty to Die?

Hardwig famously (famously within bioethicist circles, anyway) argued that sometimes, perhaps often, we have a duty to die–to refuse life-extending treatments or even actively kill ourselves, rather than slowly waste away. 

“Our individualistic fantasy about ourselves sometimes leads us to imagine that lives are separate and unconnected, or that they could be so if we chose. If lives were unconnected, then things that happen in my life would not or need not affect others. And if others were not (much) affected by my life, I would have no duty to consider the impact of my life on theirs… But this is morally obtuse. The fact is we are not a race of hermits — most of us are connected to family and loved ones. We prefer it that way… But being with others is not all benefits and pleasures; it brings responsibilities as well. For then what happens to us and the choices we make can dramatically affect the lives of our loved ones. It is these connections that can, tragically, generate obligations to die, as continuing to live takes too much of a toll on the lives of those connected to us” (Is There a Duty to Die?, 2000: page 14).

If his argument works, wouldn’t similar logic also saddle recipients of government healthcare with a similar duty to die? The emotional burden would be absent, for I am unaware of countless strangers suffering their final days at this very moment. But the financial burden is very real, though not as direct. Funds used to extend their lives aren’t taken directly from my savings account, and the bill isn’t mailed directly to my home. But my and your tax dollars are indeed used to pay the doctors and the hospitals that keep them alive, perhaps at some point excessively and unnecessarily so.

What do I mean by “excessively” long deaths or people kept “unnecessarily” alive? I have in mind those with qualities of life so diminished that their existence is hardly recognizably human. I’m not talking about an otherwise healthy and young person, with much of their lives in front of them, who suffers some tragedy and needs time to heal. Those folks can actually get better, and so resources used for their benefit seem well spent. But in cases where there is little or no hope for recovery (especially for the elderly, with little life left to live, even if they do recover), and a daily routine that consists of little more than pain and delusion, not only is the individual left to suffer, but so too are their familial witnesses. The case is even stronger when a person permanently loses consciousness. Extension of such a life seems pointless–even harmful–and thus unnecessary and excessive.

But keep in mind–Duties and obligations are not absolute. They never exist in isolation, and are rarely powerful enough to compel action on their own. Particular duties must be balanced against other competing duties before we can decide what we all-things-considered should do. So even if it’s the case that I may someday have a duty to my fellow citizens to refuse life-extending treatments out of concern for the federal budget, that doesn’t mean this duty couldn’t be overridden by supervening obligations to a grandson–to see him graduate high school, to my wife–to see her through our 75th anniversary, or to my readers–to complete one last blog post. Thus, the duty isn’t all-powerful or in all cases reason enough to pull the plug. All I am arguing is that the duty to die is real and sometimes powerful, and that not only does it obtain out of respect for one’s family, but sometimes out of respect for one’s fellow citizens.

None of this is to say that the so-called “death panels” are necessarily a good idea. With limited resources and promotions on the line, I can certainly see the opportunity for abuse. But if we think sometimes people should just go ahead and die, and that lives aren’t always worth the cost of extension, maybe the idea isn’t as ludicrous as it first sounded. And if you buy that, there’s no reason to wait for socialized medicine to call your Congressperson–millions are already dependent on Uncle Sam for their end of life needs–just take a look at Medicare.

Hey, I was once a libertarian, and know some VERY intelligent people who still are–so no offense to sympathizers. But here’s a cute vid on libertarian magic dust. Thanks to Monica Whitley for forwarding.

Saudi Arabia did it. Venezuela did it. Heck, even Iraq did it. So why shouldn’t the US nationalize its untapped oil reserves too? Instead of letting a handful of undeserving private companies reap all those profits, why not use the money to fund healthcare, education, shelter for the homeless, food for the hungry–even to develop alternative, non-polluting energy alternatives? If it’s going to get used anyway, and if it’s just lying there, I say we the people should directly benefit, and at least this once kick all that “trickle down” nonsense to the curb.

When it comes to matters of private vs. public property, few people think EVERYTHING should be privately or publicly held. Even advocates of the most extreme communist society recognize that we still need our own personal tooth brushes–if for no other reason than hygiene. And even the most hard core Ayan Rand libertarian will agree that legislative buildings need to be publicly owned, even if they’re otherwise willing to auction off the commons. So almost everyone agrees that some middle ground needs to be struck. One that respects both our shared claim to what the earth freely provides, and our differing claims (at least partially) based on our differing degrees of sacrifice and exertion.

So notice that I’m NOT recommending the we comendere EXXON’s oil rigs. Somebody put forth some effort to build that company and just taking it over without invitation or consent wouldn’t be cool. But unlike communist confiscation of private property, nationalizing the natural resources just lying in the ground on federally owned land (or off the coast) can’t be said to disrespect anyone’s hard work, past investment or entitlement. Nobody did anything to make that oil–it’s just there–so pumping it, selling it and funneling the profits into the national coffers can’t be said to “steal” from anyone. In fact, private companies drilling on public land and selling our own oil back to us at an incredible profit seems more like thievery!

I’m not neglecting the benefits of the trickle down status quo. Oil companies reap profits, hire employees, invest money–which contributes to the tax base, creates jobs and fuels the economy. But if ALL the new profits from our reserves were pumped directly into the federal budget, not just the percentage Uncle Sam currently skims off the top, think of all the extra good that could be done. Thus, not only is nationalizing our untapped oil reserves off the coast and in Alaska in our best interests, it’s legitimate.

I had the opportunity to run the idea by McCain’s would-be energy advisor, former CIA Director James Woolsey, during the ‘08 presedential election. To say the least, he wasn’t interested! Didn’t even seem to register as an option, though to be fair, I didn’t have time to share the full argument. But for those of you who just read the full argument, even if you typically trust your gut level “CAPITALISM=AWESOME; SOCIALISM=EVIL” reaction, take a minute to reflect. Nobody’s property is being plundered, and we all have a whole lot to gain. So contact your congressperson today!

Some people are born with heart defects, some have pianos fall on their head, and some smoke and eat their ways into an early grave. It seems unfair for people who get sick through no fault of their own to have to absorb the overwhelming costs, but it seems equally unfair to force the rest of us to pay for couch potatoes’ poor choices. Therefore, if the government provided universal healthcare for all, it would be justified in banning cigarettes and mandating exercise!

Here’s the sort of argument those against socializing medicine usually assert: Unhealthy people are unhealthy due to their own poor choices (smoking, overeating, lack of exercise, etc). Therefore, unhealthy people deserve their unhealthy status, and society at large shouldn’t be expected to treat conditions people knowingly create. You smoke, you get cancer, it’s your problem—not ours.

Here’s what many proponents of universal healthcare say in response: Unhealthy people are the victims of either congenital physical defects or the psychologically overwhelming advertising of unhealthy industries (cigarette, fast food, sedentary entertainment, etc.). Therefore, unhealthy people do not deserve their ailments, and society at large should step in and rectify this injustice. It’s unfair that you were born with a heart defect and I wasn’t, or that you find Ronald McDonald especially persuasive, so the government should take care of you.

Here’s the actual truth: Some people are born with physical defects, and some people are born with unhealthy personality traits—both of which are out of their control and thus beyond blame. However, educated adults should know better than to smoke, eat unhealthy foods in excess and forgo regular exercise. Thus, since some some sick people aren’t to blame for their sickness (people born with health problems or even victims of non-negligent accidents), but some people are in fact to blame (smokers, the morbidly obese, the dreadfully unathletic), some deserve government-funded healthcare for certain ailments while others do not.

That seems to be the way government healthcare should be, so long as people are free to ruin their bodies. It’s in your hands, but if you choose to poop on your temple, you pay for it. But notice that this commits us to an interesting implication for universal healthcare. It’s only cool to kill yourself with saturated fat and nicotine now because (apart from your friends and family) you’re largely only harming yourself. But if everyone were guaranteed universal health coverage—if everyone received treatment regardless of lifestyle, and at our collective expense—the state would then be justified in outlawing unhealthy habits and perhaps even mandating healthy habits!

A person could of course “opt out”—sign some sort of release waiving their right to healthcare in exchange for the right to chain smoke and eat exclusively at McDonald’s. And maybe that’s the most reasonable approach on the front end–you get access to full government health coverage only if you’re willing to follow a healthy regimine. But insofar as every person is guaranteed extensive health coverage, we’d have good reason to be pissed at the willfully unhealthy, and have an interest in mandating (or at least forcefully encouraging) a healthy lifestyle.

“Too big to fail is the right size to regulate.” That quip from Representative Al Green, D-Texas, pretty much sums up my take on the new financial regulations suggested by Treasury Secretary Tim Geithner.

Not THAT Al Green

A quick, straightforward and successful argument–if banks, megainsurance conglomerates and other entities typically supported by private funds expect to receive (or actually receive, even if they don’t expect or claim to want to receive) public funds when times are tough because allowing them to fail would crash the US and world economy, that’s reason enough to regulate the heck out of them–ensure they’re pursuing long-term stability rather than risky short-term profits.

That argument’s good enough on it’s own. But we might also draw an analogy with theme park liability. If visitors expect to receive (or at least are legally entitled to receive, even if they don’t consciously expect to receive) compensation if they’re injured at Dollywood, it’s OK for Dolly to stipulate and enforce safety requirements inside the park.

Or we might articulate and test a general principle: When A’s behavior threatens not only to harm A, but B as well, B should be able to limit said behavior. Driving recklessly puts not only the driver at risk, but also other drivers, pedestrians, passengers, etc; thus it’s OK to regulate driving. Owning a tactical nuke puts not only the owner at risk, but also his neighbors (indeed, his extended neighbors), and even future generations; thus it’s OK to regulate tactical nuke ownership. Running one of these (apparently) essential financial entities poorly (apparently) not only puts investors at risk, but also THE WORLD economy; thus it’s OK to regulate their greedy corporate butts

So whether by way of Al Green’s argument, the Dollywood analogy, or the general principle, we arrive at the same conclusion: too big to fail = big enough to regulate.

As a college teacher, if I don’t understand the needs and desires of my customers, I can’t properly uphold my end of the bargain. Giving customers what they expect is a matter of professional integrity. And according to a recent conversation (thanks, Ed Gonzalez), I may not understand those expectations as well as I thought. So, dear college student–past, present or future–answer this short essay quiz to help me a) better serve my students and b) decide whether I need to more aggressively pursue critical thinking seminars/authorship/tutoring/the circus/etc.

Never mind that Ferris Bueler was in high school...

1. First, what’s the purpose of going to college, primarily? Is it to get a degree so you’ll be more marketable? To impress friends/potential mates or appease family? Or is it to enrich your mind, learn things you wouldn’t otherwise know, develop your ability to think for yourself? Is it about jumping through hoops to get that job so you can buy cooler toys, or is it about transforming your identity–becoming genuinely wiser?
2. Second, what’s a college teacher’s job? To convey information, enlighten, help students understand? Or is it to present and assess–to say “here’s some info” or a concept or a way of thinking, and then to quantify how well you pick it up with grades–grades eventually used to determine who gets what job, into which graduate program, into which law school, etc? Is the professor’s job to bring the slower students up to speed or to filter them out? If you’re not sure, ask yourself this: do you prefer a professor who assigns an easy A, but teaches you nothing, or a professor who blows your mind, but gives you a C+? The professor who makes the hoop big enough and low enough to walk through, or the professor who rejects hoops outright?
3. And last, is operating in a certification-based environment necessarily hostile to teachers who relish sharing their passion, but loathe assigning grades–who see grades only as a superficial motivator, and more of a barrier to true learning than anything? Do teachers who love their discipline necessarily dirty it with bureaucratic quantifications? Or can really good teachers use grades to their advantage while maintaining their integrity, as well as trust with their students?

Don’t worry–whether you want them or not, no grades will be assigned. Anonymous posts welcome, lest somebody is worried their professor will find out what they really think…

And I thought the first time I read Noam Chomsky was shocking. With a furrowed brow, I hereby post the most amazing/disturbing/provocative thing I’ve ever seen–Zeitgeist, the movie.

Act I: Christianity
Act II: 9-11
Act III: The Federal Reserve

If you’re content going to church, flying Old Glory and paying your taxes, just skip on by–please. Only watch if you’re prepared to see the world VERY differently. Only click play if you didn’t like Santa Clause to begin with.

The good news is that I can’t vouch for the accuracy of any of this. For all our sakes, I hope the makers are mistaken.

UPDATE:
Aw, shucks–maybe everything’s as boring as we’ve been told. Unsurprisingly, Zeitgeist has drawn LOTS of criticism. Though there may be some nuggets of truth in there, it’s of course WAY too crazy to be 100% accurate. Still incredibly entertaining!

Below’s a decent vid supposedly debunking the whole astrological motif religious section. It’s broken up into 10-minute blocks–you should be able to click on the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, etc after each ends, if you’re interested. It would be nice to hear from an objective source for once though (please put me in contact if you know one). It seems that the only people who care enough to investigate ancient religions are either Christian apologists or anti-religion Dawkins-types. Everybody who cares about the truth for its own sake is off doing something else.

I’m not sure if there’s anything out there refuting the 9-11 or federal reserve stuff, but really, there needn’t be. The burden of proof is on this guy to refute the status quo, not the other way around.

At 31, I’ve yet to partake in the ganja. It was ever-present as I came of age, and the peer pressure was often strong and direct. But though I did my share of underage drinking, I always resisted Mary Jane. It was just something I vowed to avoid when I was a kid. Plus, I got some practice doing the Nancy Reagan thing  in jr. high. Actually had one of those cliche’ encounters with a “pusher” at a football game: “Hey kid—wanna buy some weed?” “No,” with a nervous chuckle. “OK—don’t you tell anybody I asked…” That gave me the confidence to say no again and again, and besides—I got my rebellious kicks elsewhere. Once fully into manhood, there were the random drug tests in the Air Force and Air Guard to worry about, or to just use as an excuse when friends offered. “Can’t man, drug test.” I had a brief window of opportunity when I left the military in 2004, but I figured if I’d made it that long, no reason to start. Not that I needed another reason, but with a new son, the role model thing keeps me on the straight and narrow. Whether the fact that I’ve never smoked makes a difference for what I have to say below, you decide. Just thought I’d share in the name of full disclosure. And thank goodness Michael Phelps got caught smoking pot—gives me an excuse to write about it!

First things first, let’s distinguish the legal from the moral. Just because something is legally forbidden doesn’t mean it’s immoral, and just because something is legally allowed doesn’t mean it’s moral. Good law tracks morality, but the two realms are definitely distinct. For example, for a time, interracial marriage was legally forbidden—didn’t make it immoral. And, for a time, slavery was of course legally permissible—didn’t make it moral.

This means that the common argument that smoking pot is wrong because it’s illegal falls short. As members of a fairly (though not fully) just democracy, we all have some moral obligation to abide by democratically enacted laws. But that obligation itself can’t establish the inherent moral permissibility or impermissibility of an act. It can give us a moral reason to obey the law, but it can’t by itself morally condemn smoking pot, any more than it can by itself morally condemn interracial marriage or morally endorse slavery.

So beware of this bad (though common) argument:

Mary: Smoking pot is immoral because it’s illegal.

Jane: But why should it be illegal?

Mary: Because it’s immoral.

Jane: But why do you think it’s immoral?

Mary: Because it’s illegal.

Jane: Dude, you’re killing my buzz. Why is it illegal, again?

Mary needs to provide independent reasons why smoking pot is immoral—she’s essentially saying that it should be illegal because it is illegal, which is of course circular. Do any good arguments exist? Here are some candidates to consider. Smoking pot is immoral because…

Because it’s addictive. Since lots of activities are addictive that nobody but the Mormons think are immoral, this isn’t enough. Activities need to be something more than addictive to be immoral, otherwise blogging is immoral. (And that’s called a reductio ad absurdum, boys and girls.)

Because it’s addictive AND harmful. This is worth exploring, but “harmful” needs to be unpacked. Does pot steal your soul like heroine? No. Does it pickle your liver like booze? No. Does it tend to make you slothful, a little slower upstairs than you would be otherwise, rob you of some degree of motivation? For many users, if we’re honest with ourselves, I think we have to say yes. Everybody knows a “burnout” when they meet one—they’re just a little slower, denser, thicker than the rest of us. Does making yourself dumber and less outgoing than you’d otherwise be constitute harm? Maybe so. Becoming less industrious, less bright, and lazier all seem moves in the wrong direction. But even if this constitutes some degree of harm, the bigger question is, is this enough to render smoking pot immoral? After all, you’re only harming yourself. Indeed, some independent types would say that it’s morally permissible to do whatever you like to yourself (even kill yourself), so long as you don’t hurt anyone else. Since smoking pot only harms the user, they argue, it’s cool. But they neglect those with whom we have relationships—the loved ones our habits can affect. If pot essentially alters who you are, makes you less responsive, more socially withdrawn, more dim-witted, then since all of these factors play into how you interact with others, and probably for the worse, that counts as a form of harm to others. (I can hear the moans and groans already. I didn’t expect to be this negative, I swear! That’s just how it’s working out.) Now, that doesn’t mean it’s harm enough to render the activity immoral—we don’t have an obligation to be maximally good to our loved ones, just adequately good. It just means the issue isn’t as clear cut as some would have us think. I’ve seen how drugs can alter a person’s personality, and I’ve seen those changes hurt relationships. In fact, I’ve seen it lead to suicide twice, which definitely harms those left behind. LOTS of compounding factors pushed the people in question THAT far—and they weren’t just smoking an occasional joint—they were on some really bad stuff. But the point is that substance abuse played a role in harming people other than the abusers themselves. Could weed by itself cause such a momentous collapse? I doubt it. Laziness and dunderheadedness, yeah, but not suicide. But what if it led to drugs that could…

Because though pot itself does only insignificant harm, it’s a gateway to harder drugs that cause great harm. Interpreted as a blanket statement, this is pretty easy to shoot down. EVERYONE who smokes a joint in college doesn’t wind up a crack head. But some people certainly do. What are the numbers? I dunno. But for the sake of argument, say that 15% of those who smoke pot go on to something much harder—something we all agree causes great harm to both the abuser and their loved ones. Is that reason enough to denounce smoking pot itself as immoral? Maybe so. If you recognize that an activity poses a 15% chance of eventually causing great harm to yourself and your loved ones, you probably have a strong moral obligation to abstain from that activity. As the level of harm and the likelihood of it occurring increases, so too does the obligation to abstain. So if a person has a family history of hard substance abuse (which means they’re probably genetically predisposed to become hard substance abusers themselves), are young and irresponsible, are already addicted to cigarettes and liquor, out of respect for themselves and their loved ones, they have a pretty strong moral obligation to stay far, far away from anything that might lead them down that path, including smoking a quick bowl. But on the other hand, a reasonably intelligent adult with impeccable self-control and no family history of abuse and a social support network to identify and head off potential addiction might have a relatively weak obligation to not smoke weed. In fact, it might be clearly morally permissible in some cases. Point is, the risk of abuse and subsequent harm is probably always there, but it comes in differing degrees, which then produces differing obligations in differing degrees.

Conclusions: Those seem to be the strongest points against smoking weed, and after careful analysis, it looks like we can’t make an across-the-board statement that it’s always good or that it’s always bad. As with most moral questions, careful thought leads us to a carefully tailored position. Perhaps all we can say is that smoking pot is more or less immoral depending on the person smoking it and their circumstances (likelihood to move on to harder stuff, frequency of smoking which might exacerbate the negative personality effects, degree of responsibilities to others, etc.). We can say that it almost always causes some personality change, but so do lots of things. I do mixed martial arts once a week, and though it relieves some stress, it probably makes me a little cockier than I’d otherwise be. That makes me more apt to be frank with strangers, to be blunt with students, and to sometimes come across as, well, a bit of a prick (sorry!). That’s a form of harm—I’m more ornery than I’d otherwise be—but I don’t think it’s enough to override the satisfaction I get from physical competition, the increased confidence from knowing how to better defend myself, the camaraderie at the gym, etc. And beyond that, smoking pot probably makes some people better! Artists swear it makes them more creative, and hey, if you need a joint after work to keep from kicking your dog, yelling at your wife and beating your kids, by all means, spark up! You probably need some therapy too, but in the meantime, everybody’s probably better off if you sneak a little smoke. (Surprisingly, a person in this case may even have a moral obligation to smoke…)

Which brings us to our last question—should smoking pot be illegal?

Like most things, it should probably be heavily regulated, but not categorically banned. (Even killing, the worst of all sins, isn’t categorically banned—it’s OK to kill in self-defense.) Especially since that’s how we treat alcohol. From what I’ve read and heard, the socially destructive effects of alcohol are by far greater than those of marijuana. Drunks start fights and drive on the sidewalk. Stoners just play Mario Kart and eat Cheetos. The likelihood of developing an addiction or abusing harder substances is probably comperable, and so too are the personality effects (alcohol kills brain cells too, unfortunately…). If we’re going to allow but regulate alcohol, logical consistency demands that we allow but regulate weed. Plus, legalizing marijuana would do a world of good to stop the escalating violence at the Mexican border. That’s a whole lot of murdering for no good reason. Oh, and think of the jobs Winston-Salem could create with their newly renovated factory! A funky new stimulus package up Obama’s sleeve, perhaps?

So there you go. Smoking weed is immoral to the extent that the person smoking harms themselves and others, and moral to the extent that it benefits themselves and others (on whole), which depends on factors unique to each case. The same could be said of binge eating or drinking beer or even watching college football, all three of which I’ve done to excess to the detriment of others at one time or another (just in case anybody thought I was getting too holier than thou). And given that weed’s probably no more harmful (probably even less harmful) than alcohol, though it should definitely be regulated (forbidden for high-risk hardcore abusers and reserved for competent, responsible, over 21 adults—sorry kids!), it shouldn’t be categorically illegal. But of course, I’ve never smoked it, so what do I know.