Mr. Singer's "Golden Rule"

"Therefore, if killing the hemophiliac infant has no adverse affects on the others, it would, according to the total view [of utilitarianism], be right to kill him. The main point is clear: killing a disabled infant is not morally equivalent to killing a person. Very often it is not wrong at all."

Practical Ethics, the 1993 textbook authored by bioethicist Peter Singer

"The only difference between killing a normal infant and a defective one is the attitude of the parents."

Same book

"Every year Princeton appoints a number of senior scholars as new members of its tenured faculty. We look to these distinguished men and women to bring new vitality and continuing leadership to our programs of teaching and research."

President's Page, Princeton Alumni Weekly, Dec. 2, 1998

"Perhaps what is so shocking about Mr. Singer's views is that they don't seem to shock the academic world at all. While they may not be regarded as mainstream, Mr. Singer's ideas are still considered an acceptable school of thought in academia."

Linda Chavez, Washington Times, May 6

Linda Chavez was surely correct when she observed in her thoughtful column that not withstanding mounting opposition to the appointment of Australian bioethicist Peter Singer to a prestigious chair in ethics at Princeton, "the university shows no signs of rescinding the offer." Indeed, the chief result of an April 17 rally that brought out more than 100 protestors seems to have been to convince Princeton to dig its institutional heels in even deeper. If anything, Princeton has become even more unyielding in its commitment to appoint the 52-year-old Singer to the Ira W. DeCamp Professorship of Bioethics at the university's Center for Human Values(!).

In words dripping with condescension, Singer's legions of supporters typically attribute opposition to many factors, none of which reflect particularly well on opponents, beginning with ignorance: We intellectually challenged critics often are simply unable to grasp the subleties, the "nuances" of Singer's stimulating arguments.

Beyond this grey matter deficit, we are lectured, we unsophisticates also don't appreciate the give and take of academia. This latter defense customarily takes one of two forms. Apologists either trot out Singer's accomplishments (and they are impressive: one of his strongest critics told the New York Times that "he's one of the most popular, charismatic, influential and accessible thinkers" in the field of bioethics) or try to try to have it both ways - - be "personally opposed but" - - the first refuge of those lacking the guts to boldly defend Singer's grotesquely anti-human views.

All this is on display in Princeton President Harold Shapiro's column for the Alumni Weekly cited above. Shapiro begins by explaining that some of the controversy arises because of "misrepresentation or misinterpretation" of Singer's views, not surprising because Singer's work addresses "difficult and provocative topics" which "in many cases challenge long-established ways of thinking."

To give himself wiggle room, Shapiro quickly adds, "Even careful readers of his works will disagree, sometimes quite vehemently, with what [Singer] has to say or will reject some of the premises upon which he bases his arguments." Having gotten the pro forma nod to evenhandedness out of the way, Shapiro begins to unload the superlatives. Singer's work "is intellectually astute, morally serious and open to engagement with others." He "examines important questions with integrity, rigor and originality," etc., etc., etc.

Shapiro magnanimously informs his readers that surely friendly disagreement is no reason that colleagues can't have "a deep respect for his scholarship and invariably find his work instructive." Heck, it's no different from an appointment in the economics department, Shapiro tells us, where, after all, colleagues "may differ on issues of economic policy."

But the impact of Singer's profoundly anti-egalitarian views are of a different order than a leisurely faculty lounge session debating whether tax cuts pay for themselves by spurring greater economic output. This debate is life and death stuff. It is about how our culture will answer the most fundamental question any society faces: what is its attitude toward the weak, the defenseless, and the "imperfect"?

Space does not allow a lengthy explication of Singer's "utilitarian" philosophy. Suffice it to say that children with any "defects" are toast. In Singer's morally antiseptic world, you just kill 'em and start over with a new kid. Singer's logic is as straightforward as it is brutal.

Assume the parents of a child with, say, hemophilia will not otherwise have a second child, unless the first one is killed. The second kid likely has "better prospects for a happy life" than the imperfect first child. Therefore, if you off the first kid, the "total happiness" for the parents and the replacement kid is greater. (See the excerpt from Practical Ethics in the sidebar below.)

Like so many of the ultimately totalitarian thinkers of the past three centuries, Singer knows he can't reduce to rubble an over 2,000 years old tradition unless he demolishes the foundations. That is why he sets his sights on leveling two bulwarks: (a) that humans are unique and (b) that every one of these unique human beings deserves protection whether or not he or she is strong enough to demand it.

For all its seeming intellectual rigor, there are only two major ideas undergirding Singer's own quirky philosophy. The first is an adamant insistence that to qualify as a "human being," we must demonstrate certain qualities. Hokum about the importance of membership in the species Homo sapiens is impatiently dismissed. This, of course, gives the good professor free rein to include in or out whomever he wishes.

The second is a thunderous rejection of what he calls "speciesism" - - the given that humans are different from and superior to animals. So, Singer begins by excluding the "defective" and the failing, then puts all of us in mortal danger by demolishing any notion that we are anything special, "flawed" or otherwise.

Uniqueness of human beings + a special commitment to protecting the weak. Does that ring a bell? For Singer, it sounds an alarm. Writing with his co-author Helga Kuhse in Should the Baby Live? Singer pronounces that, "For more than fifteen hundred years, Christian teaching dominated Western moral thinking. ... During this long era of totalitarian enforcement[!], Christian moral view gained an almost unshakable grip on our moral thinking. The idea that all human life has a special sanctity has become an important part of our moral consciousness" (emphasis added).

In an unctuous April 10 news story, the New York Times pooh-poohed the vocal opposition to Singer, led by the disability rights movement, intensely angry that an university like Princeton would go out of its way to make room for the likes of Peter Singer.

Obviously captivated, the reporter insisted that Singer is "not easily categorized" (because he gives "one-fifth of his income to famine relief agencies"), is a guy who is almost "quaintly old-fashioned" (because he believes "philosophy ought to be concerned primarily with what it means to live a good life"), and is a man who indeed might be seen as applying biblical principles to the contemporary world ("A lot of things Singer talks about sound like applications of the Golden Rule").

In truth, Singer is neither misunderstood nor hard to "categorize." (When he is, "misunderstood," it is in large measure because, in Jenny Teichman's delightful phrase, Singer is "surprisingly economic with the truth.") It doesn't require a Ph.D. to clearly understand that for the Peter Singers of this world, the "good life" - - or life at all - - is limited to those he deems worthy.

And only the New York Times, which possesses an almost preternatural knack for turning truth inside out, could find a resemblance between the principles of mercy, justice, and reverence for life that animate the Golden Rule and Singer's rancid philosophy, labeled by advocates for people with disabilities around the world (in the Times's words) "fascist and murderous."

A good place to close is with a quote taken from a column written by the Rev. Richard John Neuhaus, editor-in-chief of First Things. In starkly yes or no terms, Neuhaus captures the magnitude of the questions Singer raises and the critical importance of choosing the right answer.

"Singer has said that he sometimes thinks he and the Pope are the only ones who understand what is involved in the controversy over abortion and related issues," wrote Neuhaus in the March 1999 edition. "It really is an either/or question. Either, like the Pope, you believe that all human beings - - no matter how small, weak, or handicapped - - have a right to be protected, or, with Singer, you adopt a doctrine of lebenswertes Leben ['life unworthy to be lived'] and recognize the need to eliminate the 'unfit.'"

dha

From Peter Singer's, Practical Ethics (Cambridge University Press, 1993), a book he will be assigning for his course at Princeton.

Suppose that a newborn baby is diagnosed as a hemophiliac. The parents, daunted by the prospect of bringing up a child in this condition, are not anxious for him to live. Could euthanasia be defended here? Our first reaction may well be a firm No, for the infant can be expected to have a life worth living, even if it is not quite as good as a normal baby. The "prior existence" version of utilitarianism supports this judgment. The infant exists. His life can be expected to contain a positive balance between happiness over misery. To kill him would deprive him of this positive balance. Therefore it would be wrong.

On the "total" version of utilitarianism, however, we cannot reach a decision on the basis of this information alone. The total view makes it necessary to ask whether the death of the hemophiliac infant would lead to the creation of another being who would not otherwise have existed. In other words, if the hemophiliac child is killed, will his parents have another child whom they would not have had if the hemophiliac child lives? If they would, is the second child likely to have a better life than the one killed?

Often it will be possible to answer both these questions affirmatively.

When the death of a disabled infant will lead to the birth of another infant with better prospects of a happy life, the total amount of happiness will be greater if the disabled infant is killed. The loss of happy life for the first infant is outweighed by the gain of a happier life for the second.

Therefore, if killing the hemophiliac infant has no adverse effects on the others, it would, according to the total view, be right to kill him. The main point is clear: killing a disabled infant is not morally equivalent to killing a person. Very often it is not wrong at all.