OFFENSIVE BENEFICENCE Adam Cureton May 2, 2014 Simple acts of kindness that are performed sincerely and with evident good will can also, paradoxically, be received as deeply insulting by the people we succeed in benefiting. When we are moved to help someone out of genuine concern for her wellbeing, when we have no intention to humiliate or embarrass her and when we succeed at making her better off, how can our generosity be considered disparaging or demeaning to her? Yet when the tables are turned, we sometimes find ourselves brusquely refusing assistance from others or accepting it only grudgingly while trying to show that we do not need their charity. People with disabilities often find ourselves in situations of this sort, where we bristle at others who rush to open doors for us while our kindhearted benefactors are surprised and hurt by the cold reception they receive for their efforts. We are often aware that these people mean well and we recognize the real benefits we stand to receive from their generosity; but many of us still feel offended and put down by acts of kindness that we would normally regard as quite commendable. Taking offense to the kindness of others may not seem appropriate to those who think that genuine acts of beneficence are always good and so merit gracious reception, appreciation and gratitude rather than feelings of disrespect or insult. It may seem imprudent to bare significant inconvenience and hardship rather than accept sincerely offered assistance from others. And those of us who are sometimes 1 offended by beneficence from others may simply be in the grip of an unjustified preference for independence, self-­‐sufficiency and self-­‐reliance that feminists and communitarians have long warned against.1 My aim is to give a partial moral diagnosis of how beneficence toward people with disabilities in particular can be disrespectful and offensive. The main point is that we should uphold the distinction between what is owed to others and what is simply charitable, as a way of maintaining the self-­‐respect of all. There are moral reasons, I argue, for demanding help from others that is owed, resisting aid that is not, while showing appreciation for the kindness we do receive and the good-­‐will of those who give it. Beneficence We can begin by defining a beneficent action as one in which we intend to advance the good of another for her own sake by means that we do not believe are required or forbidden by morality. An action does not count as beneficent in this sense if the only benefits it brings to others were unintended or merely meant to further the giver’s own good. Nor can an action be beneficent if we think we are under a strict duty or obligation to perform the action or to refrain from doing so. When we perform a beneficent action, we take ourselves to have the moral freedom to do the action or not, and our final aim in doing it is to further the interests of another person. Beneficent actions, however, can go awry in various familiar ways: First, there can be “failed favors” in which our beneficent actions do not in fact benefit 1 (Baier 1995; Held 2006; Kittay 1999, 2005) 2 (Driver 1997) 3 (Baron 1995; Hill 1992, 2002) 4
For discussions of the assistance that basic respect may require, see (Buss 1999; 2 those we intended to help.2 For instance, we may be mistaken about where a person’s interests lie or about what we can do to further them, in which case our beneficent actions may not succeed as a result. Second, we may think we are at moral liberty to choose whether to perform a beneficent action or not even though our assistance was actually required or forbidden by morality. For example, we may help those in need for their own sake, thinking that we are doing them a kindness, but we may not know that justice strictly requires us to assist them in that way or that basic respect expressly forbids us from doing so. In both kinds of cases, if we do not succeed at furthering the good of another or if we lack the requisite moral freedom to act as we did then our beneficent actions, though well intentioned, do not count as genuine beneficence. We can say that a beneficent action is successful or genuine, it comes off well, if what we do actually advances someone’s good, as we intended it to do, and if our action is not actually required or forbidden by morality, as we did not believe it to be. Beneficent actions, as I have defined them, can thus be effective or ineffective, beneficial or harmful, respectful or disrespectful, and right or wrong depending on the actual effects they have on other people as well as the other requirements of duty and obligation we are in fact under. Genuine beneficence, on the other hand, is always effective, beneficial and permissible but not mandatory. On a Kantian view, the happiness of others is a moral value that we should give significant priority to in our lives. The duty of beneficence can be understood as the imperfect moral requirement to make the good of others one of our final 2 (Driver 1997) 3 ends.3 This duty is imperfect because it allows significant latitude and choice to freely decide how, when and to what extent to help others for their own sake, as long as we stay within the bounds of duty in doing so. Genuine beneficence is therefore morally good in all cases because it necessarily furthers a moral end in ways that are, morally speaking, permissible but not required. Beneficent actions that are actually owed or forbidden, or ones that do not in the end help their intended recipients, may also be morally praiseworthy in certain instances because of the quality of will they express – a failed favor is still after all meant as a favor. When assessing the moral worth of beneficent actions that do not succeed, we must consider, among other things, whether the person should have reasonably known that her action would not benefit the person or whether she took due care in investigating what other moral requirements she is in fact under. Moral assessments of genuine beneficence depend on where the distinction is drawn between what is owed to others and what is good to do for them but not required. Meeting the basic needs of others or saving them from extreme duress is in many cases required by morality rather than simply charitable. We may strictly owe assistance to others as a matter of justice; we may have special obligations to help our children, family, friends or associates; and basic respect may require us to exchange pleasantries and courtesies or return favors from others.4 We must also do our part to provide assistance that is morally required, provide just and fair compensation to those who give it and prevent those responsibilities from falling 3 (Baron 1995; Hill 1992, 2002) 4 For discussions of the assistance that basic respect may require, see (Buss 1999; Herman 2012) 4 disproportionately on one group or another.5 What counts as genuinely charitable is likely to be more restrictive than many people tend to think, which begins to explain some common misunderstandings among those who regard their assistance as charitable and those who know it is owed. We should strive to do good deeds for others and hope that we will be successful at doing so. The kinds of cases I want to focus on are ones in which an ordinary person, who has the empirical and moral beliefs we would expect from a typical member of our society, performs or offers to perform a beneficent action that may or may not be genuinely beneficent. She intends to help the person for her own sake rather than because she fears social reprisals. In light of the potentially false and biased empirical beliefs she has been able to gather from her past experiences and education, she reasonably believes that her action would be good for her to some extent, so she is not simply rushing in haphazardly by her own lights. And from her own moral reflections and the social practices that currently exist, she does not reasonably believe that her action would be disrespectful or otherwise wrong, so she is not throwing money in someone’s face or intending to put her down. Nor does she reasonably believe that helping the person is owed to the person, so she does not mean to be fulfilling a duty or special obligation. As a conceptual matter, such beneficent actions can nonetheless be wrong and disrespectful, although perhaps morally worthy as well, so we should investigate further how that might be. 5 (Kittay 1999) 5 Independence A common reaction to offers of assistance from others, especially among people with disabilities, is to reject such help while trying to show that it is unneeded. Think of the mild annoyance and wounded pride we may sometimes feel when a family member tries to give us advice about our career choices, when a neighbor brings second-­‐hand clothes for our children or when another parent helps us to put up our camping tent. Even when we are sure that their beneficence is genuine, we may still feel somewhat disrespected, resentful or put down when others help us. Their assistance can sometimes make us feel helpless, vulnerable, needy or pitiful, which may lead us to react in ungrateful and begrudging ways. These responses, and the attitudes that underlie them, may be irrational or unjustified, so it is worth exploring why some of us have them and whether they can in some instances be morally appropriate. Part of the explanation for why some of us resist certain acts of beneficence from others is that we value a kind of independence or self-­‐reliance, we want to do various things ourselves and we want to show that we do not need help from others in order to do so. Our preference for independence is usually not absolute, but other things equal, we would often rather call a taxi than ask a friend for a ride, arrange after-­‐school care rather than burden our neighbors, or take out a loan rather than asking for financial assistance. But as Annette Baier, Virginia Held, Eva Kittay and others have emphasized, the supposed liberal ideal of the autonomous, self-­‐
sufficient person threatens to undercut the deep values of care for others, attention 6 to their needs, trust and mutually-­‐dependent relationships of love and concern.6 We are all dependent in many ways on one another, so the preference some people have for independence may need to be radically adjusted or abandoned.7 In order to assess the various types of independence in more detail, we need to specify what an agent is supposed to be independent of as well as what aspects of her are supposed to be independent. One kind of independence is more commonly called autonomy, which is the capacity and freedom to make our own decisions about how to live our lives without certain kinds of interference from others.8 Autonomy is widely regarded as a moral value that can conflict with other moral values and we know that our autonomous choices can interfere with those of others.9 This kind of independence, however, does not fully explain why some people resist accepting certain kinds of charity. Assistance from others does not usually undermine our ability to live lives of our own choosing and in many cases it actually enhances our autonomy. We are often free to decide whether to accept or take advantage of the help of others, their assistance may further the aims we have set for ourselves or enable us to pursue them more effectively, and we usually retain the ability to adjust our values and commitments in light of the circumstances we find ourselves in. Assistance from 6 (Baier 1995; Held 2006; Kittay 1999, 2005) 7 For discussion of this kind of dependency see (Davis 2007; Fraser and Gordon 1994; Kittay Forthcoming; Lindemann 2001) 8 (Dworkin 1993; Hill 1991a; Young 2002) 9 The “Independent Living Movement” is concerned in significant part with the autonomy of people with disabilities, although there may also be some preference for independence in the further sense I discuss of pursuing one’s own happiness without relying to a significant extent on the charity of others. See (De Jong 1983; Oliver 1989). 7 others may sometimes interfere with our autonomy, but even when it does not, many of us are still reluctant to accept help from others. Another kind of independence, in the sense of self-­‐reliance, self-­‐efficacy or self-­‐sufficiency, has to do with how we achieve happiness. Our ability to satisfy and fulfill the personal ends, goals and projects we set for ourselves can depend on a variety of factors, including our efforts, natural talents and abilities and luck as well as the choices and attitudes of others, including whether they respect our moral rights and fulfill their obligations to us. The Stoics emphasized one type of independence in this sense by encouraging us to find our happiness wholly within ourselves. They thought that living the best kind of life requires us to adjust our aims and projects so as to eliminate the influence of all external circumstances on achieving our goals. Another kind of self-­‐sufficiency is when our happiness does not depend on other people at all. We may form our plans based on our natural talents and abilities as well as the circumstances in which we live, but when we are independent in this way we do not rely for our happiness on others to respect our rights, buy our goods and services, appreciate our pursuits, or help us for our own sake. Finally, the kind of independence that best explains why some people prefer not to ask for or receive favors is when we achieve happiness without much in the way of genuine beneficence from others. We are often adept at adjusting our aims and aspirations to our skills, abilities and market conditions, we are fine reckoning with the influences of luck on our pursuits, we draw up our plans on the assumption that our moral rights will be respected at least to some extent and we make 8 contingency plans for when things beyond our control go badly. What many of us seek to avoid is coming to rely too heavily on the morally optional charity and favor of others for our happiness. We want our happiness to come mostly by way of our own efforts, talents, rights and good luck rather than from the beneficence of others. This is not to say that we prefer beneficence play no role in making us happy. Small favors and gifts may sometimes be quite welcome. We may also be willing to sacrifice some of our independence to achieve even greater values and relationships. But many of us nonetheless have a decided, but defeasible, preference for diminishing the influence of beneficence from other people in pursuit of our own good. I should emphasize that this kind of independence is compatible with regarding one another as mutually dependent and interdependent in many other ways. It allows us to rely on political arrangements that are meant to guarantee our legal rights as well as mutual-­‐aid in times of duress, assistance in meeting our basic needs, and special responsibilities of those with whom we have loving relationships, because such things are owed rather than morally optional. We may also come to depend on market interactions and cooperative arrangements with others as well as contracts and promises when these are performed out of self-­‐interest or mutual advantage rather than as genuine beneficence. What independence in this sense counts against is affording a significant role to charity or favors in how we achieve our goals and aims. The preference many of us have for independence of this kind is not merely prudential. We know from experience that charity and favors from others is often 9 less reliable at helping us get what we want than are, say, legally instituted and enforced rights, but we also know that this is not always the case. Although it can be imprudent to assume that others will give us the help we deserve or that our rights will be respected, many of us nonetheless value independence even when we are sure that we would be better off accepting favors from others. Nor is the preference for independence simply a function of having goals and projects that include in their content that the person who sets them be the one who achieves them. Some projects are like that – I do not just want a computer built, my aim is to be the one who builds it – but many of us often prefer to do things ourselves rather than rely on favors from others even when this is not essential to the goal itself.10 Whatever its moral status, a preference for achieving happiness in ways that are more or less independent of the beneficent actions of others at least helps to explain a variety of otherwise puzzling responses people with disabilities sometimes have to such actions. Many of us would rather pay caregivers for their services than rely on willing and generous benefactors; we would rather press our rights to reasonable accommodations than simply allow others to assist us; we would rather bare significant inconvenience and trouble than ask for help that we know others are pleased to give; and we would rather perform a task that we find quite difficult even when others could do it for us quite easily. Our preference for achieving happiness without much beneficence from others also helps to explain the brusque and dismissive responses we sometimes give to others who perform beneficent actions for us. When those actions succeed in helping us, they undermine 10 For discussion of this important phenomenon, see (Calhoun Forthcoming) 10 to some degree something we really want, namely independence, and when we are not benefited by them, we see the actions as attempts at frustrating this preference. Even when we asked for or accepted the favor, we may be upset at ourselves for not having lived up to a kind of independence that we prize. This is not yet to say that these reactions to beneficent actions are morally justified or appropriate; indeed they can often come across as ungrateful and unappreciative. But many people with disabilities like me find in ourselves an acute preference to achieve happiness without significant beneficence from others, in part because we are regularly faced with decisions about whether to ask for and accept assistance. At the very least, this desire should figure in assessments of whether our actions would actually benefit those who have it. But we may also wonder whether this preference for independence is simply a defense mechanism that should be abandoned as a holdover from a discredited liberal ideal. When we examine whether there are any moral reasons that could justify independence as a moral value, we find several factors that count against it being anything more than a personal aim that people are free to incorporate into their conception of the good or not. First, if we reject the Stoic idea that we should make our happiness independent of all external factors then nothing seems especially objectionable about benefiting from beneficent actions in particular as compared to other ways in which our welfare may be improved by what others do, such as through their economic choices or their support of just institutions. Second, the duty of beneficence and a moral value of independence would seem to be in tension with one another, for how can we be required to set the happiness of others as one 11 of our ends when it is morally undesirable for our potential benefactors to ask for or accept the beneficence that we are sometimes required to give? In performing genuinely beneficent actions for someone, we would be undermining someone’s morally valuable independence; and in justifiably refusing to accept favors from others, we would be diminishing or eliminating their opportunities to do what they have an imperfect duty to do. And third, although independence in this sense is compatible with various other kinds of dependence on others, there may be a remaining concern that independence leads us to miss or lose out on worthwhile relationships of care and concern. Yet I think that there are three kinds of reasons, all of which arise from self-­‐
respect, that independence is one among several moral values that should inform how and when we assist others. Servility According to Thomas E. Hill’s “Servility and Self Respect,” servility is a deferential attitude to others that denies one’s equal moral status within the true system of moral rights.11 Hill describes two kinds of servility. The first type results from “a failure to understand and acknowledge one's own moral rights”.12 A servile person of this sort incorrectly thinks that he lacks various moral rights. He may also act as if he has waved certain moral rights that either cannot be forfeited or that he has not given proper consent to forfeit. Hill 11 (Hill 1991b) 12 (Hill 1991b: 9) 12 illustrates this type of servility with his examples of a so-­‐called “Uncle Tom” and a deferential housewife. The other kind of servility Hill describes results from “placing a comparatively low value” on one’s moral rights.13 Someone may understand and acknowledge that she has the same moral rights as others and know how and when she can forfeit them, but she may nonetheless refuse to stand up for her rights or fight for them; she may choose not to press her rightful claims on others, regularly decide not to exercise certain moral rights, refrain from holding others to account for violating them, or allow others to treat her as if she lacks those rights. This sort of person may prefer to fawn, beg or simply hope that others will respect her moral rights without demanding that they do so, she would rather waive her rights in many cases than make a fuss, she usually allows violations of her rights to pass without comment and she is willing to show signs of gratitude and deference to those who satisfy her rights as if they are doing her a favor. A person may show that she regards her rights as comparatively less important by playing along with others who do not recognize and appreciate her moral rights. Hill illustrates this type of servility with the example of a self-­‐deprecator. Although these kinds of behaviors can be justifiable in many contexts, such as to avoid significant retribution or hardship, the attitude of servility, when conceived as a failure to appropriately understand and value one’s rights, is a moral defect, according to Hill, because it is incompatible with respecting oneself fully as a person. 13 (Hill 1991b: 12) 13 When we consider the first type of servility in the context of people with disabilities, we find that, as Anita Silvers, David Wasserman and others have pointed out, there are various ways that disabled and non-­‐disabled people alike may tend to misunderstand or fail to appreciate the moral rights of people with disabilities.14 First, there was a time when people with disabilities were thought to lack certain basic moral rights altogether because of their disability. Second, although it is commonly accepted nowadays that people with disabilities have the same basic human rights as everyone else, some ordinary people may not fully grasp that some moral rights are positive, they mandate the performance of certain kinds of actions as owed, such as giving mutual aid to others, meeting their basic needs, ensuring they have opportunities of various kinds, and providing them with distributive shares. Third, properly respecting someone’s negative rights, which forbid certain kinds of interference from others, can also require positive action to ensure that the person is in a position to meaningfully exercise her rights. The right to freedom of association, for example, may require provisions that assist people with disabilities to communicate and congregate with others. Fourth, some people may not realize that the more specific treatment that people with disabilities are entitled to by right are not always the same as the treatment owed to people who are not disabled. The right to fair and decent treatment, for example, requires reasonable accommodations be made to allow people with disabilities an opportunity to participate fully in public life. Fifth, some people may not understand whether it is the government that bears primary or sole responsibility for satisfying their moral 14 (Kittay 2005; Shakespeare 2006; Silvers 1998, 2009; Silvers and Francis 2009; Wasserman 1998) 14 rights or whether these rights are mainly against specific individuals or society at large. There may also be some role for both political institutions as well as individuals in ensuring that certain moral rights are met. Although in our society, for example, the state is supposed to ensure that various buildings are wheelchair accessible, particular individuals may bear a burden of assistance when a building lacks an accessible entrance. Finally, although we are arguably excused from performing otherwise rightful acts if doing so would impose a significant burden on us, we may be too quick to assume we are exempted from certain kinds of rightful actions because of the personal costs they would involve.15 A person with a disability exhibits the first kind of servility when she adopts a deferential attitude because she fails to understand and appreciate her moral rights. She thinks that various kinds of assistance and reasonable accommodations from others are forms of charity or beneficence even though, as a matter of fact, they are rightfully owed to her. If she were to meekly seek out such help, fawn over potential benefactors or perhaps even beg for assistance that she is actually owed, while displaying deferential signs of gratitude and appreciation for those who give it, she would be expressing a kind of disrespect for herself.16 Many people with disabilities seek to avoid falling into this kind of servility, yet we are often unsure just what our moral rights are, so we may adopt a heuristic strategy of generally refusing to ask for or accept supposed favors of all kinds rather than risk seeking as generosity what is actually our due. As long as we have some 15 This is the conception of supererogation discussed in (Rawls 1999) 16 Eva Kittay (2011) is also concerned about this kind of servility as well, particularly toward those who care for us. 15 idea of our most basic rights, what we give up in adopting this preference for independence are potential improvements to our happiness, but what we gain is a greater assurance that we are showing proper respect to ourselves. Until we are in a better position to know what our moral rights are, the commitment that some people with disabilities have to independence, to achieving our happiness without much beneficence from others, can thus be a morally valuable way for us to avoid servility. Yet this strategy can also misfire when it leads us to refuse genuinely beneficent actions that actually do go above and beyond the call of duty, but this is a chance some of us are willing to take for the greater assurance that we are showing proper respect to ourselves. A person with a disability exhibits the second kind of servility when she places a lower value on her moral rights as compared to those of others.17 Even when she knows, at least in broad outline, what her moral rights are, such a person usually chooses not to stand up for or press them on others. When people violate her rights or fail to understand and appreciate them without pushback from her in return, they may develop an arrogant stance toward her. They may express this disrespectful attitude by acting in ways that turn out to be required by duty although they sincerely think and act as if they are merely doing her a morally optional kindness that, as they see it, warrants gratitude, appreciation and deference in return. Some beneficent actions can thus lead to resentment among people with disabilities who feel like they are being put down by people who do not recognize 17 Both kinds of servility are discussed in (Goffman 1963) 16 and appreciate that their supposed generosity, although kindhearted, is actually owed. This puts the person with a disability in a difficult position. On the one hand, the most effective way to get what she is owed may be by flattery, fawning and signs of deference to those who do not understand or appreciate her rights. Doing so may reinforce their disparaging views of her and other people with disabilities, but it may also lead her to adopt their attitudes herself and so doubt whether her moral status is on a par with theirs. In accepting as favors what is owed, waiving her rights or refusing to fight for them, she may be expressing and reinforcing a deferential attitude in herself that is incompatible with full self-­‐respect. On the other hand, if she refuses to play along and stands up for her rights, she risks social reprisal from others who are annoyed by her “presumptiveness” as well as reduced happiness and loss of assistance that is due to her. As before, a general strategy of standing on her rights and generally avoiding beneficent actions may be a morally worthwhile way of trying to maintain one’s self-­‐respect in an imperfect world. These two arguments for seeking one’s own happiness without much beneficence from others do not establish that independence is always preferable. There are many ways in which a person can avoid servility of both kinds while graciously accepting favors from others. Many beneficent actions are genuine – they would be helpful and they are not in fact required or forbidden by duty – so in graciously accepting them as such we may not be misunderstanding our rights or placing a lower value on them. Even when someone presents an action as beneficent when we know that it is required, we may have other reasons to accept it and even to show signs of gratitude, without thereby having or expressing a 17 deferential attitude. And when we are unsure whether a beneficent action is required or not, it may be worth the moral risk to accept it, perhaps while tempering our appreciation. Real world cases are likely to be very complicated. The specific treatment that people with disabilities are entitled to is complex and made more so by the wide variety of disabilities that exist. Moral philosophers are still working out what it takes to fully respect the rights of people with disabilities. Our society has made some progress in instituting some of the more obvious moral rights in the law and in informal social rules, which are where many of us learn about them. In light of our upbringings and education as well as the legal and social practices that currently exist, combined with the moral subtleties of the various issues involved, it is no surprise that disabled and non-­‐disabled people alike tend to mistake treatment that we are entitled to as genuinely beneficent. Depending on the context, we may not blame someone or even regard her as servile if she did not understand, through no fault of her own, whether a specific act is morally required or charitable. In some cases the moral status of an action is clear enough on reflection, however, so we would fault someone for laziness or inattention in her moral deliberations. Some people with disabilities are perhaps overly-­‐sensitive to the potential moral pitfalls of asking for and accepting favors because of their concerns about falling into servility, yet it may still be a worthwhile strategy for us to place a comparatively high value on independence until we and others have a clearer idea just what our rights are. But especially in cases in which it is uncertain to all where the line between what is owed and what is charitable lies, people with disabilities 18 should perhaps be more understanding and appreciative of others who sincerely and reasonably think that the assistance they are offering is genuine. Other people should perhaps be more sensitive to the potentially demeaning messages that their actions can express. And all of us have a more general duty to reflect on these issues in more detail and work to change our legal and social practices so as to make them more just and fair for all. Gratitude When we know that someone has done us a genuine kindness, morality is commonly thought to require some kind of grateful response or disposition to respond on our part.18 Depending on such things as the type of benefit we received and the trouble the person went through in helping us, we may simply have to smile or nod appreciatively, but we may also have to write them a thank-­‐you note, recount how their favor helped us if asked, tell them what we thought of their gift, buy them a small token of appreciation, be nicer to them than we otherwise would or perhaps even repay their generosity in kind or at least stand ready to do these things. We tend to regard it as a moral failing if someone ignores our kindness or fails to acknowledge it, acts as if our generosity is a burden to her, treats us with indifference even though we have done her many favors in the past, or refuses to 18 Duties of gratitude are affirmed by moralists such as Aquinas (1964: II-­‐II, Q. 106), Hobbes (1994: I.11.7; I.15.16), Hume (2000: 300, 08, 33-­‐4, 85), Kant (MM 6:454-­‐6; 458-­‐9), Sidgwick (1884: 258-­‐61; 78-­‐83; 423-­‐35) and W.D. Ross (2002: 21, 27). Recent discussions of gratitude as a duty include (Berger 1975; Card 1988; McAleer 2012; Smilansky 1997; Walker 1980), and recent discussions of gratitude as a virtue include (Kristjánsson 2013; Weiss 1985; Wellman 1999) 19 reciprocate our generosity (I drove you to work all last week, but now that I have a flat tire, you refuse to give me a ride). Although we usually have significant latitude to decide how and when to show such gratitude for the genuine beneficence that others give us, we arguably have obligations of some kind to our benefactors for their generosity. We are sometimes quite pleased by opportunities to show recognition and appreciation for the morally worthy actions of others, yet at other times the gratitude that we owe them can feel burdensome. We may not ask a neighbor to watch our children because we expect to be called upon to do the same for them; accepting a book as a gift may require us to comment on it if asked even though other books are higher on our reading list; even the heightened pleasantries and courtesy we must sometimes show others for their kindness can become tiresome. Genuine beneficence from others imposes constraints on our freedom. We usually do not feel these limitations when we are otherwise pleased to show others how grateful we are for their kindness or when we are simply in the good habit of doing so. But we may also begin to feel hemmed in by the gratitude we owe others when we would rather keep to ourselves or pursue our other projects than be especially affable to them or do them favors in return. Some people may value independence, and so wish to downplay the role of beneficence from others in their lives, because they want to avoid the obligations and debts of gratitude that they would otherwise owe others. We may sometimes not like owing gratitude to people, especially when such obligations were foisted upon us by genuinely beneficent actions we did not accept or when we could get 20 along just fine without their morally optional assistance. This willingness to accept a potentially diminished level of happiness rather than incur obligations of gratitude, however, may simply be a further personal preference that lacks moral backing. The kind of gratitude that we owe others for their kindness can be as simple as saying “thank-­‐you” or giving a smile, while the more onerous debts of gratitude are reserved for occasions in which we have significantly benefited from the actions of others. We are often quite happy to show our appreciation to those who help us. And many of us are not particularly unsettled by having obligations of other kinds, whether voluntarily incurred or not – we are usually fine with signing mortgages, making promises, caring for our children, paying our taxes and seeking to respect the basic moral rights of all. So what is it about incurring obligations of gratitude that some people find particularly unsettling? We might begin to explain and justify a preference for avoiding beneficent actions because of the obligations of gratitude they bring by looking to an argument of Kant’s.19 Before describing this argument, I should note that Kant’s conception of the content and scope of gratitude, which he develops in his later work the Metaphysics of Morals, has several problematic features that conflict with commonsense. First, Kant implausibly argues that all duties of gratitude can never be fully discharged because, as he sees it, we can never repay someone for having been the first to do us a kindness. Second, Kant thinks that obligations of gratitude are only owed for genuinely beneficent actions whereas we may think that gratitude 19 (Kant and Gregor 1996) 6:454-­‐6; 458-­‐9. For discussions of Kant’s conception of gratitude and gratitude more generally see (Card 1988; Herman 2012; Smit and Timmons 2011) 21 may also be appropriate or even owed to those who provide assistance that is morally required, such as to bystanders who save us from great duress, or to people who sincerely try but fail to help us. Third, Kant thinks of gratitude as necessarily obligatory, but in some cases gratitude may simply be commendable or virtuous but not required, such as when a nurse takes good care of us even though it was his job to do so. Finally, Kant claims that we must at least repay the benefits freely given by others in equal measure, whereas commonsense suggests that the gratitude we owe is usually not so precise or potentially onerous. Although Kant’s account of the scope and content of gratitude is too simple, he gives a powerful argument for why we have good moral reasons to avoid obligations of gratitude while also cheerfully discharging the ones we have. According to Kant, when we permissibly choose to do someone a genuine favor that succeeds in benefiting her, the beneficiary of our good action thereby incurs a duty of gratitude. Any gratitude she shows us in fulfilling this duty would not be grounds for further gratitude to her on our part, it would not create a further obligation of gratitude to her in us, because her grateful assistance and signs of appreciation are morally required rather than genuinely beneficent. Other things equal, therefore, the two of us now stand in a kind of unequal moral relationship with regard to the duties we owe one another. Her freedom is constrained more than ours is because of the extra obligation she owes us. We are also in a position to direct some of her choices by our own potentially arbitrary decisions (such as inquiring after the benefits she received from us, asking her to reciprocate, etc.) even though she does not have the same power over us. On a whim, we can decide to cancel her debt of 22 gratitude or continue to uphold it, waive off the benefits she attempts to give in return, or call on her to help us in kind (I took you to work all last week, now it’s your turn). Kant’s view is that it is morally objectionable for two people to stand in an unequal relation of a subordinate who is less free than her superior and partially under his direction when the superior is not also bound to his subordinate in the same way. This is a kind of moral inequality in which the beneficiary, other things equal, has less moral freedom than the benefactor while the benefactor also has the moral power to direct the choices of the beneficiary in how she fulfills her debt to him. The situation, according to Kant, is analogous to a servant who freely gives over certain of his moral rights to a master without gaining any rights from the master in return. All persons, according to Kant, have equal moral rights against one another, which they may transfer in mutual contractual arrangements or exchange in close personal relationships without losing their basic moral equality with regard to what they owe one another. Even promises often implicitly involve mutual transfers of rights. What makes debts of gratitude different is that they are asymmetric obligations that, all else equal, make one person beholden to another and so eliminate the equality of duties that, for Kant, should exist between them. When someone does us a genuine kindness, according to Kant, we are often pulled in two different directions. On the one hand, we may be very appreciative of the person for her generosity, enjoy being especially nice to her and welcome opportunities to buy her “thank-­‐you” gifts and repay her in kind. On the other hand, however, our self-­‐respect also leads us to resent the fact that we are now beholden 23 to her, that there are now things we must do for her even if we lose the desire to do so. She also has moral power over us in how we discharge our obligation, which she may exercise to our liking or not, by waiving or enforcing our debt of gratitude or accepting or refusing to accept a small token as sufficient to fulfill it. When our obligations of gratitude and our appreciative desires and feelings coincide, our resentment may not be very apparent to us, but on reflection Kant thinks that our self-­‐respect is somewhat diminished when our moral freedom is constrained by another person while we lack any comparable moral power over her. We must resist the temptation, according to Kant, to allow our wounded self-­‐
respect to lead us to become unappreciative, where we refuse the gratitude we owe or act as if their kindness is a burden on us. And we must especially prevent this tendency from turning into the “loathsome“ and “detestable” vice of ingratitude20, which is outright hatred of the person for doing us a genuine kindness because we resent her for putting us in an inferior position. It is also disrespectful, according to Kant, for others to intend to bind us by the assistance they aim to give. The proper target of our resentment to sincere acts of kindness, on Kant’s view, is not the benefactor, who we must acknowledge and honor for her morally worthy actions, but rather ourselves, for having incurred those obligations in the first place. The moral fault, on his view, does not lie with the benefactor but with the beneficiary, who accepted the benefits. Someone shows a lack of self-­‐respect, on Kant’s view, if she asks for or accepts favors from others or puts herself in a position in which she needs them, for in so doing she places herself in an inferior moral 20 MM 6:458, 459 24 position to her benefactor.21 We therefore have self-­‐regarding reasons to be independent, to seek our own happiness by our own efforts, talents, rights and luck, so that we can avoid asymmetrical debts of gratitude and so maintain our self-­‐
respect as an equal among others. If we broaden our focus from one-­‐off interpersonal interactions, there are ways that we could mitigate the effects on our self-­‐respect that beneficence from others can bring. Friends, families and close associations may have a long history of assisting one another, so they may maintain their equality with one another if no single person among them owes more or less gratitude than anyone else in the network of obligations that exist among them. Even in society as a whole, if we are roughly as likely to receive help as to give it then, as it were, “paying it forward” can help to ensure that we each stand on equal moral footing with others with regard to the duties of gratitude we owe one another. Some people with disabilities may be especially concerned about the moral inequality that beneficence can create because we worry that our current social circumstances and abilities make us more likely than others to receive beneficence and less likely than others to be in a position to give it. If this empirical claim is true then people with disabilities would tend to occupy a subordinate social role because we would be beholden to many more people than the average person, while fewer people than average would be beholden to us. Non-­‐disabled people may not have experienced the sheer number of beneficent actions that people with disabilities are subject to, so gratitude may come easily to them without dealing much of a blow to 21 Kant gives this as one of the examples to illustrate a kind of servility. See (Kant and Gregor 1996) 6:436. 25 their self-­‐respect. A wheelchair user, however, may feel appreciation for the first or second door that someone opens for him, but by the 20th door that day his warm feelings may have subsided, leaving him to force yet another smile or “thank-­‐you” when he would rather have just managed by himself.22 Gratitude can feel quite constraining and oppressive for those who are regularly expected to give it, especially when we also have little opportunity to provide similar assistance to other people. There may be reasons, therefore, to hide the beneficence given to people with disabilities so that obligations of gratitude, arguably, would not arise in the first place.23 We can also interpret the assistance we give them in such a way that it is not charitable but actually required by their moral rights. We may need to give people with disabilities reasonable opportunities to repay acts of kindness and help others. And there may be good reasons for us to cancel or diminish the debts of gratitude we expect from them. Nonetheless, if Kant’s main point is correct, that obligations of gratitude arising from genuine beneficence diminishes our moral freedom as compared to others, then in certain circumstances we have moral reasons of self-­‐respect to prefer to live independent lives and resist asking for or accepting genuine charity and favors from others. 22 There may also be gendered differences about how often doors are opened for women and men with disabilities and about how they tend to view such actions. 23 We would not be under a debt of gratitude, it seems, if we do not or cannot reasonably know that someone has done us a genuine kindness. 26 Social bases of self-­‐respect A third set of moral considerations for favoring independence arises from a desire to preserve the social bases of our self-­‐respect. Human beings are subject to a variety of psychological dispositions that tend to diminish the respect we have for one another and tend to undercut our ability to live as self-­‐respecting agents. Social standing One of these natural dispositions, as Kant and Rousseau emphasized, is our tendency to ground a person’s basic moral status, including our own, on her relative social standing.24 Societies afford social standing differently, but wealth, power, social position, natural ability, physical appearance, moral merit (or demerit), gender and race have figured prominently in the relative honor and prestige that people enjoy in society. When someone is appraised highly by these metrics or is a member of a prized group, we have a mistaken tendency to think that she has a higher moral status than those who do not fare as well by society’s standards. Not only are such attitudes deeply disrespectful, but they also impose significant psychological pressure on people in oppressed groups to diminish the respect they have for themselves in comparison with the respect that those with greater social privilege regard as their due. Given our psychological make-­‐up, it can be difficult to maintain a sense of one’s own worth in a society that has a comparatively low opinion of people like you. Even when someone is able to resist these social pressures and understand and appreciate his basic moral status, there are also questions about how a fully 24 (Rousseau and Gourevitch 1997); (Kant et al. 1998) 6:27 27 self-­‐respecting person should respond to those who have and express the demeaning attitude that he is morally inferior in light of his social standing. Others may respect his rights simply from fear of reprisal even though their attitudes toward him are still deeply disrespectful. If he says nothing and simply allows others to continue thinking of him as second-­‐class then he risks a kind of servility that results from placing a comparatively low value on his basic moral status itself. One way he should stand up for himself is to fight the misconception that moral worth varies with the opinions of others. People with disabilities in particular have suffered from a diminished social status that has been translated by some into an inferior moral standing. We tend to be perceived as weak, pitiful and economically unproductive because of our disability. We tend to have fewer resources and less power than those who are not disabled. Some of us do not live up to gendered norms of beauty and ability because of our impairments while many of us also belong to other oppressed groups. And we are more likely to be helped by others because we are seen as less capable of caring for ourselves or pursuing our own good, while we are often given fewer opportunities to assist others. Even though these and other factors are mostly the result of unjust social conditions, they are nonetheless stereotypically applied to particular people in a way that can significantly diminish our relative social standing. The pressures we are under to adjust our sense of our own moral worth accordingly can be immense while our decisions about how to stand up for our ourselves against the prevailing attitudes that we find demeaning can be difficult. 28 A person with a disability who finds himself in a context of this sort, where he has a diminished social standing that tends to lead him and others to regard him as morally inferior, has reasons of self-­‐respect to try to sever the socially accepted connection between social and moral worth. In the meantime, he might also have reasons to show that he and others fare better by society’s standards than is commonly thought, as a way of combating stereotypes and diminishing the psychological pressure they may feel to diminish their sense of their own moral worth. If his society values those who show their independence, who pursue their own happiness without depending on charity or beneficence from others, then he would have reasons to be reticent in asking for or accepting favors as a way of diminishing psychological obstacles to his own self-­‐respect. He must be careful not to reinforce the tendency to conflate social and moral value or send the message that he buys into their tendency to view him as morally inferior or superior in virtue of his social position, but he may justifiably want to demonstrate his independence as a way of protecting his sense of his own moral worth until it can be fully recognized by his society.25 25 Some people and some societies do a better job than others at marking the distinction between social value and moral value. Our own society may be one in which people who simply satisfy a certain threshold of social value are regarded as having more or less equal moral worth while those who fall below that threshold are thought to be morally inferior. In a society of this sort, only those who are especially poor, powerless or disabled, for example, would be regarded as lacking full moral standing while the moral status of everyone else is regarded as basically the same in virtue of possessing a minimal degree of social approval. 29 Self-­‐esteem Human beings are subject to a second family of psychological dispositions that, according to Rawls, affect our ability to be happy.26 A person is happy, on Rawls’ view, if she is doing well at fulfilling her system of personal aims, goals and projects and she is reasonably confident of her continued success at doing so. Self-­‐
esteem, as Rawls understands it, is different from self-­‐respect, which has to do with acknowledging and treating ourselves as morally worthy. Self-­‐esteem, by contrast, is having a sense that one’s system of personal aims and goals is worth pursuing as well as reasonable confidence in one’s ability to fulfill them.27 One of our psychological tendencies, says Rawls, is that without self-­‐esteem of this kind, we find it impossible to take pleasure in our goals and projects or to pursue them with zest. When we lack self-­‐esteem, we tend to fall into self-­‐doubt, apathy and despair; we think that nothing is worth doing and we lack the will to do much of anything anyway. Going beyond Rawls, we might say that self-­‐respect requires self-­‐esteem because respecting ourselves fully as moral agents requires us to maintain our ability to form goals and projects and to pursue them to some degree. Self-­‐respect may not require us to be prudent or efficient at fulfilling our aims or to succeed at being happy, but we do not show proper respect to ourselves if we fail to maintain the conditions in which we can develop personal goals and aspirations as well as participate in projects that we find meaningful. If self-­‐esteem is necessary for us to 26 (Rawls 1999) 27 (Rawls 1999: 386-­‐87) 30 avoid debilitating feelings of futility and cynicism then we have moral reasons arising from self-­‐respect to ensure that our self-­‐esteem is maintained while others have moral reasons to protect it as well. What does it take for human beings to maintain the sense that our aims and aspirations are worth pursuing as well as some confidence that we are able to fulfill them? A further psychological principle, which Rawls calls the Aristotelian Principle, holds that we tend to value activities and projects more and more as their complexity and the complexity of the abilities and talents we develop to pursue them increase.28 If someone’s aims and projects do not call upon him to develop his natural capacities then he will find it difficult, if not impossible, to maintain a sense that they are worth pursuing. In order to maintain his self-­‐esteem, he may have to choose endeavors that require him to cultivate his abilities and talents. There are also social bases to self-­‐esteem in human beings, according to Rawls. Rawls proposes a further psychological disposition, which is that we cannot maintain our self-­‐esteem if other people do not value our pursuits and activities, while our self-­‐esteem tends to increase when others do so.29 Without some degree of public affirmation that our projects are worthwhile from at least a limited group of associates, many of us find it impossible to regard them as worth pursuing. Yet the Aristotelian Principle implies that other people will tend to value our aims and projects more the more complicated they are and the greater degree of intricacy and skill they involve. We also tend to enjoy the aims and pursuits of others when they complement our own in ways that we find appealing. Our self-­‐esteem, therefore, 28 (Rawls 1999: 374-­‐80) 29 (Rawls 1999: 387-­‐88) 31 usually depends on having a group of mutually supporting people who appreciate our shared endeavors and admire our subtlety and skill in pursuing them. These communities need not be large, and they can be tailored to the abilities and aspirations of their members, but without belonging to at least one of them we are unlikely to maintain a sense that our projects are worthwhile. Many people with disabilities have developed strong associative ties that help to render their self-­‐esteem secure, while others may feel that their status in some of the groups they belong to is more tenuous on account of their disability. Some of us may have a strong preference, therefore, to play a particularly active role in the pursuits of our groups, to show off our talents and abilities and to demonstrate our usefulness without seeking or accepting additional help from others. In ordinary life, we may also wish to exercise and develop our natural talents and abilities ourselves without assistance from others as a way to maintain our own self-­‐esteem and call attention to the subtleties and skills that even basic life activities can involve. One of our aims in doing these things is to secure the esteem and appreciation of our associates and so maintain a sense that our own projects and efforts are prized and worth pursuing. The conclusion of this section is that if self-­‐esteem is required to have proper respect for oneself then people with disabilities may sometimes have moral reasons to resist beneficence from others when asking for or accepting it would undermine our social status or lead us to severely doubt the value of our endeavors or our ability to pursue them. In light of the influences that the opinions of others have on our self-­‐respect and self-­‐esteem, people with disabilities have some reason to prefer 32 independence in an imperfect world. If our social context were to change so that our moral worth were not tied to our social standing and we felt secure in the value of our pursuits in stable associations with others then our preference for independence may diminish and we may be more pleased to accept genuine beneficence from others. But as things stand, we are sometimes justifiably willing to bear hardship and inconvenience in order to protect our sense of our own worth in non-­‐ideal conditions. Social practices How these various factors of servility, gratitude and social opinion should combine to guide our beneficent actions and responses to the kindness of others in an imperfect world is often very complicated. In this final section, I want to explore how we might begin to apply and implement these values in everyday decision-­‐
making. One significant problem is that we often lack certain basic empirical information that is relevant to our decisions. Those who are considering whether to give assistance may not know whether there are ways they could actually help someone, if that person would welcome or accept their help, or if she would be offended by it. They may not have reflected enough about how their beneficence will be perceived by society or the kinds of pressures it may place on beneficiaries. Potential beneficiaries, on the other hand, may not know the intentions of others, whether those people mean to help at all, whether they are moved by self-­‐serving 33 reasons, whether they regard their assistance as charitable and if the person would actually be helpful. Both sides may also lack certain moral knowledge as well. They may not know whether the assistance is required or forbidden by morality or free to give, whether other people or the political system bear primary responsibility for the assistance as well as what is required from whom when that aid is not forthcoming. Some people may have not thought enough about the connections between beneficence and self-­‐respect, gratitude and self-­‐esteem or they may be unsure how those values weigh against the benefits they stand to provide. One strategy that societies have employed to deal with these issues is to institute, enforce and teach certain percepts, norms and rules of thumb to help people decide how and when to assist others and how to respond when others attempt, but perhaps fail, to do so. Our social practices pick out various signs and gestures that often make it clear when someone wants, needs or welcomes our help; they also allow us to determine whether a potential benefactor has pure intentions or regards her assistance as a favor. Our social practices include deliberative guidelines for when help is required or forbidden, who is responsible for giving it and what kinds of responses are called for. We have socially enforced rules about when and how it is appropriate to offer help as well as ones that require us to give genuine beneficence, such as holding doors for people carrying heavy packages, giving directions when asked, or helping to carry a baby stroller up a flight of steps. Good judgment is needed to apply our norms of beneficence, and various virtues 34 and sensitivities are necessary as well, but these rules can be reasonably useful in navigating everyday contexts. Our social norms of beneficence are far from perfect, however, because they can lead us to make mistakes or overlook relevant considerations; they may also provide little guidance in rare or unforeseen cases. By their nature, social norms have to be reasonably simple, teachable and publicly accessible so that ordinary people can look to them for guidance in particular contexts. Rules will not always be subtle enough to fully capture every relevant moral distinction or empirical circumstance and they may be biased in which ones they do include. In many cases, social norms are also tailored to cases that regularly arise in a society while glossing over those that are less common. For these reasons, our social norms of beneficence, as they currently exist, often provide mistaken or limited guidance in cases involving people with disabilities. The usual signs that someone is struggling to perform an activity and would welcome our assistance may not reveal the same need or willingness in a person with a disability. The typical ways that we succeed in helping others may be ineffective and harmful for someone with various kinds of impairments. Our rules may not fully capture what kind of assistance is morally required to respect the rights of a person with a disability and who is responsible for doing so. Even when we have a sense that our social norms are not quite adequate in such cases, our own reflections may not be particularly effective either. We may assume that disability itself is a sign that others need and want our help, or try to imagine ourselves in their position to see how we would react, or rely on our own limited experiences to 35 decide what we owe to people with disabilities. The rules may also provide little guidance to people with disabilities about what is actually owed to them and what sorts of responses are called for when others offer or give beneficence. In light of these difficulties, there are reasons for greater understanding and tolerance on both sides. Although others may have acted inappropriately in attempting to help us, we have reasons to recognize and appreciate their good intentions, mitigate the blame we might feel tempted to give, while perhaps explaining how they could have done better. And when we are rebuffed in our efforts to help a person with a disability, we should be more understanding of the person’s reasons for preferring independence as well as the unintended messages our actions can send and the stereotypes and psychological tendencies that we may be reinforcing by our help. What is also needed, from a social point of view, is an improved set of social percepts and norms for how to treat people with disabilities based on an improved understanding of their needs, interests and capabilities. We could incorporate rules about asking a person with a disability whether she needs help rather than assuming she does and rushing in to give it; we could put in place norms about standing ready to help when asked by a person with a disability and following her lead about how to do so. There should be rules about how a person with a disability can show that help would be welcome when the usual ways of doing so are not possible. We might institute norms that favor hiding our beneficence in certain cases or masking it as self-­‐interest. Perhaps the assistance we give should be narrowly tailored to the need at hand rather than assuming that a person with one 36 kind of disability is incapable in other areas as well. And there should be norms about what kinds of gratitude are owed for genuinely beneficent actions, what opportunities should be given to show it and when those debts should be forgiven. More generally, we should work to institute cautionary rules of respect that recognize the moral value of independence for people with disabilities and perhaps for others as well. Caring relationships of various kinds are another important way for us to navigate the potential moral pitfalls of beneficence. We can establish more specific expectations with our loved ones about what kinds of responsibilities we have to one another and what kinds of further assistance we would welcome. Our friends and family often know more than others about how we ought to be treated by society, they are usually more likely than others to respect us as moral persons without looking down on us for accepting their generosity. The intimacy of many personal relationships allows us to voice concerns about the social pressures that often accompany those who are seen as dependent and work out private ways that our friends can be helpful without advertising their assistance to others. 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