The man has done nothing shameful: (a) his life is his own; and (b) the insurance company bet, with its eyes open, that sufficient suicide-intenders would back down from their plans within two years that the policies would still be profitable. It lost its bet, but it was a reasonable bet.
The man has done nothing admirable, either; he has taken money from the shareholders of the insurance company, and given it to charity. Presumably this is something the shareholders could have done themselves, if they chose to. So from a libertarian standpoint, this is not an admirable act—he forced the shareholders to do something they didn’t want to do. Even though he did this through “voluntary” means.
However, I can see that if you’re of the opinion that it’s a good thing to take money from shareholders (who presumably are wealthier than average) and use it to save lives, then I can see how you would think this to be an admirable act.
You could also argue that the insurance company isn’t stupid: it may have sold a thousand policies to intended-suiciders, and this was the only one who went through with it. In that case, the insurance company made a profit, and this man actually had a 99.9% probability of being one of the mind-changers. Unless he had strong reason to believe that he’d be the exception, he should have realized that there was a large probability, that, like the others, he was irrationally believing that his probability was higher than 0.1%.
What he should have done was contingently committed to selling his organs on the black market before committing suicide. Then, there would have been a net benefit to his death, instead of it being zero-sum, and his actions would have been admirable.
“So from a libertarian standpoint, this is not an admirable act—he forced the shareholders to do something they didn’t want to do.”
No, he didn’t. They wanted to offer a life insurance policy. I’m confident that they’re not thrilled about having to pay out, but they’re not being forced to do anything against their will—only to keep to the obligations they freely entered into.
The man has done nothing admirable, either; he has taken money from the shareholders of the insurance company, and given it to charity. Presumably this is something the shareholders could have done themselves, if they chose to. So from a libertarian standpoint, this is not an admirable act—he forced the shareholders to do something they didn’t want to do. Even though he did this through “voluntary” means.
This paragraph indicates that you believe that forcing people to do something they don’t want to do is wrong.
What he should have done was contingently committed to selling his organs on the black market before committing suicide. Then, there would have been a net benefit to his death, instead of it being zero-sum, and his actions would have been admirable.
This paragraph indicates that you believe it is morally beneficial to save lives—in this case, by donating organs.
Why is it that when these two moral principles contradict, you let the first one win?
What he should have done was contingently committed to selling his organs on the black market before committing suicide. Then, there would have been a net benefit to his death, instead of it being zero-sum, and his actions would have been admirable.
Does not follow—the breakup value of your organs is not necessarily greater than your organs working together. Just because someone gets paid doesn’t mean that game is positive-sum.
Yes, I assumed that the breakup value of the organs was higher. That seems reasonable to me: two kidneys save two lives, one liver saves a third life, and so on. And only one life is lost, and that one voluntarily.
Also, my argument was not contingent on anyone being paid … donating organs on the black market works too.
That seems reasonable to me: two kidneys save two lives, one liver saves a third life, and so on.
House MD doesn’t seem to get that sort of conversion rate from organs to lives saved. Am I generalising from fictional evidence or is your life saving equation absurdly optimistic. Ok, I admit, both.
I guess it’s an empirical question. A death creates two kidneys. Are there usually two people on a waiting list who need the kidneys and would otherwise die? If not, then perhaps I am indeed being too optimistic.
A death creates two kidneys. Are there usually two people on a waiting list who need the kidneys and would otherwise die?
Humans aren’t lego. Yes, we can transplant but they don’t always work and they don’t always last indefinitely. We also don’t just use them to flip a nice integer ‘life saved’ up by one. It’s ok if the spare organ just increases someone’s chances. Or extends a life for a while. Or drastically improves the quality of life for someone who was scraping by with other measures.
If I recall correctly kidneys are actually the easiest organ to transplant—the least likely to cause rejection. With the right donors it gets up into the 90s(%). But translating that into lives saved or ‘years added to life’ is a little tricky. Especially when we the patients also happen to require transfusions of donor blood throughout the process. We like to say the blood transfusions are ‘saving a life’. There are only so many times you can count a life as ‘saved’ in a given period of time.
It sounds to me, though, like it should be possible to somehow quantify the benefit of donating a kidney, on some scale, at least. Or do you think the benefit is so small, relative to one suicide, that my original argument doesn’t hold?
Kidney transplantation is a life-extending procedure.[24] The typical patient will live 10 to 15 years longer with a kidney transplant than if kept on dialysis.[25] The increase in longevity is greater for younger patients, but even 75-year-old recipients (the oldest group for which there is data) gain an average four more years of life. People generally have more energy, a less restricted diet, and fewer complications with a kidney transplant than if they stay on conventional dialysis.
The man has done nothing shameful: (a) his life is his own; and (b) the insurance company bet, with its eyes open, that sufficient suicide-intenders would back down from their plans within two years that the policies would still be profitable. It lost its bet, but it was a reasonable bet.
The man has done nothing admirable, either; he has taken money from the shareholders of the insurance company, and given it to charity. Presumably this is something the shareholders could have done themselves, if they chose to. So from a libertarian standpoint, this is not an admirable act—he forced the shareholders to do something they didn’t want to do. Even though he did this through “voluntary” means.
However, I can see that if you’re of the opinion that it’s a good thing to take money from shareholders (who presumably are wealthier than average) and use it to save lives, then I can see how you would think this to be an admirable act.
You could also argue that the insurance company isn’t stupid: it may have sold a thousand policies to intended-suiciders, and this was the only one who went through with it. In that case, the insurance company made a profit, and this man actually had a 99.9% probability of being one of the mind-changers. Unless he had strong reason to believe that he’d be the exception, he should have realized that there was a large probability, that, like the others, he was irrationally believing that his probability was higher than 0.1%.
What he should have done was contingently committed to selling his organs on the black market before committing suicide. Then, there would have been a net benefit to his death, instead of it being zero-sum, and his actions would have been admirable.
“So from a libertarian standpoint, this is not an admirable act—he forced the shareholders to do something they didn’t want to do.”
No, he didn’t. They wanted to offer a life insurance policy. I’m confident that they’re not thrilled about having to pay out, but they’re not being forced to do anything against their will—only to keep to the obligations they freely entered into.
This paragraph indicates that you believe that forcing people to do something they don’t want to do is wrong.
This paragraph indicates that you believe it is morally beneficial to save lives—in this case, by donating organs.
Why is it that when these two moral principles contradict, you let the first one win?
Does not follow—the breakup value of your organs is not necessarily greater than your organs working together. Just because someone gets paid doesn’t mean that game is positive-sum.
Yes, I assumed that the breakup value of the organs was higher. That seems reasonable to me: two kidneys save two lives, one liver saves a third life, and so on. And only one life is lost, and that one voluntarily.
Also, my argument was not contingent on anyone being paid … donating organs on the black market works too.
House MD doesn’t seem to get that sort of conversion rate from organs to lives saved. Am I generalising from fictional evidence or is your life saving equation absurdly optimistic. Ok, I admit, both.
I guess it’s an empirical question. A death creates two kidneys. Are there usually two people on a waiting list who need the kidneys and would otherwise die? If not, then perhaps I am indeed being too optimistic.
Yes.
Humans aren’t lego. Yes, we can transplant but they don’t always work and they don’t always last indefinitely. We also don’t just use them to flip a nice integer ‘life saved’ up by one. It’s ok if the spare organ just increases someone’s chances. Or extends a life for a while. Or drastically improves the quality of life for someone who was scraping by with other measures.
If I recall correctly kidneys are actually the easiest organ to transplant—the least likely to cause rejection. With the right donors it gets up into the 90s(%). But translating that into lives saved or ‘years added to life’ is a little tricky. Especially when we the patients also happen to require transfusions of donor blood throughout the process. We like to say the blood transfusions are ‘saving a life’. There are only so many times you can count a life as ‘saved’ in a given period of time.
OK, fair enough.
It sounds to me, though, like it should be possible to somehow quantify the benefit of donating a kidney, on some scale, at least. Or do you think the benefit is so small, relative to one suicide, that my original argument doesn’t hold?
From Wikipedia: