It seems like most of the replies here are ignoring the fact that the actual point of the article is its last paragraph.
(Or maybe I’m wrong in thinking that’s the actual point. Or maybe those replies are going along with the article’s suggestion that we can get insight into the question in the last paragraph by considering the 6-month version.)
Maybe you can get some insight that way, but of course there are important differences. If I really had only 6 months to live, I’d stop working and dieting right now and go buy some beer. If I still had 70 years to live, I’d want go back to school and learn another profession.
All utilitarian calculations, to my knowledge, have to start with an examination of one’s goals. If your primary goal is to enjoy life (nothing wrong with that), then that approach is fine. If your goal is to help the world, then I’m arguing there are things you can do in your six months that others can’t or won’t because the behaviors are too dangerous.
Maybe there are, but I bet they don’t involve translating boring business software. So if I heard that diagnosis today, the first thing I’d do (after telling my husband) is email my customers I’m retiring for health reasons, then I’d go out to buy some of that nice, strong beer I’ve not been not drinking lately because I want to lose weight, and then I’d start thinking about what to do next.
But maybe I should start thinking about it now. Realistically, I expect to die of cancer sometime between 20 and 30 years from now, based on my family history. When I’m an 80-90-year-old woman with cancer, what will I be able to do? Can’t be anything physically demanding, because I’ll be sick and in pain… Well, with any luck, I have 20 years to think of something.
I think that the point is that if you have a little time left, you can use high-risk opportunities that you wouldn’t otherwise use. As for the last paragraph, I don’t think it conveys a very important message. Should you be more or less risk-averse? Maybe yes, maybe no—it depends on how risk-averse you are now. There are people who miss important opportunities with quite small risks, and there are people who put themselves in danger without sufficient reason. For me, risk tolerance is a continuous function of estimated time left. Risks that I would take if I had 6 months are quite different from risks I would take if I had 70 years, and those are different from risks I would take if I had 700 years; and it’s fine and correct.
I think you’ve mostly got it right, although I didn’t do the best job of communicating it. At first I was just pondering the idea that utilitarianism seems to support martyrdom if you’re going to die anyway, but I realized that the theory actually applies to any finite lifespan. If we lived forever, the marginal utility of our lives would theoretically increase ad infinitum—we could bring more and more learning and experience to each problem we face.
However, until that happy day when nobody has to die anymore, thinking of death as an act (something you can use) instead of an act of god (something you take out insurance for) might help altruistic causes. This also might be a good attitude for soldiers to take (or one they already take, but not being a soldier, I wouldn’t know).
It also, I think, helps me as a person to think of dying as something I do—it makes me feel more in control of my life, rather than just living with a scythe over my head that may come falling down at any moment.
I will probably write a book based on my life now because yesterday April 27, 2019 at 9:47pm my doctor told me that I only have one year left to life. I don’t know what to do but that’s ok because I don’t think any 14 year old would know what to do if they were told they only had one year left to live.
It seems like most of the replies here are ignoring the fact that the actual point of the article is its last paragraph.
(Or maybe I’m wrong in thinking that’s the actual point. Or maybe those replies are going along with the article’s suggestion that we can get insight into the question in the last paragraph by considering the 6-month version.)
Maybe you can get some insight that way, but of course there are important differences. If I really had only 6 months to live, I’d stop working and dieting right now and go buy some beer. If I still had 70 years to live, I’d want go back to school and learn another profession.
All utilitarian calculations, to my knowledge, have to start with an examination of one’s goals. If your primary goal is to enjoy life (nothing wrong with that), then that approach is fine. If your goal is to help the world, then I’m arguing there are things you can do in your six months that others can’t or won’t because the behaviors are too dangerous.
Maybe there are, but I bet they don’t involve translating boring business software. So if I heard that diagnosis today, the first thing I’d do (after telling my husband) is email my customers I’m retiring for health reasons, then I’d go out to buy some of that nice, strong beer I’ve not been not drinking lately because I want to lose weight, and then I’d start thinking about what to do next.
But maybe I should start thinking about it now. Realistically, I expect to die of cancer sometime between 20 and 30 years from now, based on my family history. When I’m an 80-90-year-old woman with cancer, what will I be able to do? Can’t be anything physically demanding, because I’ll be sick and in pain… Well, with any luck, I have 20 years to think of something.
I think that the point is that if you have a little time left, you can use high-risk opportunities that you wouldn’t otherwise use. As for the last paragraph, I don’t think it conveys a very important message. Should you be more or less risk-averse? Maybe yes, maybe no—it depends on how risk-averse you are now. There are people who miss important opportunities with quite small risks, and there are people who put themselves in danger without sufficient reason. For me, risk tolerance is a continuous function of estimated time left. Risks that I would take if I had 6 months are quite different from risks I would take if I had 70 years, and those are different from risks I would take if I had 700 years; and it’s fine and correct.
I think you’ve mostly got it right, although I didn’t do the best job of communicating it. At first I was just pondering the idea that utilitarianism seems to support martyrdom if you’re going to die anyway, but I realized that the theory actually applies to any finite lifespan. If we lived forever, the marginal utility of our lives would theoretically increase ad infinitum—we could bring more and more learning and experience to each problem we face.
However, until that happy day when nobody has to die anymore, thinking of death as an act (something you can use) instead of an act of god (something you take out insurance for) might help altruistic causes. This also might be a good attitude for soldiers to take (or one they already take, but not being a soldier, I wouldn’t know).
It also, I think, helps me as a person to think of dying as something I do—it makes me feel more in control of my life, rather than just living with a scythe over my head that may come falling down at any moment.
I will probably write a book based on my life now because yesterday April 27, 2019 at 9:47pm my doctor told me that I only have one year left to life. I don’t know what to do but that’s ok because I don’t think any 14 year old would know what to do if they were told they only had one year left to live.
:(