By Simon Knutsson
May 30, 2020
Summary
I encourage people to talk about pessimism, antinatalism, negative utilitarianism, and similar views. And I explain why I believe it’s important to encourage this. Essentially, some mechanisms push against talking about these ideas, so one needs to make an extra effort to do so. When I say ‘talk’ I also mean to write and research about these views. Perhaps what I write in this essay is obvious, but it might be useful for someone to hear. It would be good if more people pursued careers in academia exploring these issues (broadly speaking and with some caveats listed below).
Introduction
There seems to be a cluster of views and topics which share some broadly pessimistic features; for example:
- Pessimism about the future (e.g., the future will be bad).
- Moral or value pessimism (e.g., an empty world is the best possible world).
- Antinatalism (e.g., we should not bring sentient beings into existence[1]).
- Negative utilitarianism (roughly: we should minimise suffering or negative well-being).
- Negative consequentialism (roughly: we should minimise bad things).
- Suffering-focused ethics (roughly: any ethical view that places special importance on reducing suffering).
- Voluntary human extinction via childlessness (see, e.g., The Voluntary Human Extinction Movement).
I think several of these ideas are very reasonable. One should be able to talk favourably about all of them. Holding such a view is, of course, nothing to be ashamed of and nothing one needs to feel that one should keep quiet about. My advice is to be unapologetic when expressing such views.
There seem to be several mechanisms that push against talking about these ideas. Some mechanisms are psychological, social or career-related, and some concern what happens at universities (what is taught or spread via influence by a teacher, how the views are talked about at universities, and what research gets funded). Another mechanism is that someone who expresses controversial views might face personal risks. Still another mechanism is that there have been efforts behind the scenes to discourage writing that the future will be bad, and such efforts might be ongoing.
Because of all these mechanisms, it seems worthwhile to make an extra effort to talk about the views and, like I’m doing now, encourage people to do so.
I’ll next go through the mechanisms.
Professor Thomas Metzinger has written about antinatalism and negative utilitarianism.[2] In his blurb for Magnus Vinding’s book Suffering-Focused Ethics: Defense and Implications, Metzinger writes:
Magnus Vinding breaks the taboo: Today, the problem of suffering is the elephant in the room, because it is at the same time the most relevant and the most neglected topic at the logical interface between applied ethics, cognitive science, and the current philosophy of mind and consciousness. Nobody wants to go there. It is not good for your academic career.
When I asked Metzinger to elaborate on what he writes about taboo, that nobody wants to go there, and career, a part of his reply was that a fundamental human need is to manage absurdity and make meaning, and that “we avoid potentially toxic forms of self-knowledge and insight.”[3] I gather he points to a psychological mechanism that could make people avoid engaging with the horrors in the world and avoid a pessimistic view.
Professor Stuart Rachels “defends the Famine Relief Argument against Having Children, which goes as follows: conceiving and raising a child costs hundreds of thousands of dollars; that money would be far better spent on famine relief; therefore, conceiving and raising children is immoral.”[4] He mentions how it has been remarkably silent in the literature about this argument and brings up psychological and social explanations of the silence. More exactly, he says the following about the argument:
I have been advocating this kind of argument in conversation since 1986. Remarkably, I haven’t found it in the literature…. Yet the Famine Relief Argument against Having Children is so obvious that other people must have thought of it, too…. If other philosophers know of the argument, then why hasn’t anyone written it down? One reason might be that the people who know about it are parents. Who wants to criticize themselves? And who wants to be perceived as implicitly denigrating their own children? And who wants to hear ad hominem or tu quoque rejoinders? Also, one might feel that giving the argument amounts to criticizing one’s parents—which, at least in my case, would amount to criticizing the two people in the world who have done the most for my welfare. Despite these explanations, it still puzzles me that the argument has not appeared in the literature.[5]
Professor David Benatar says there is quite a pervasive optimism among analytic philosophers, which is also my impression. A possible career-related mechanism is that those with optimistic views, who work on optimism-related topics, or who at least tone down any pessimistic or antinatalist inclinations might have an easier time in academic analytic philosophy when it comes to getting helped, admitted to graduate programmes, hired and funded. Even if someone merely believes it benefits their career to largely agree with optimistic established philosophers, they might self-censor and choose what to work on in a way that makes pessimism, antinatalism, negative utilitarianism, etc. more neglected and underrepresented in analytic philosophy. I live in Sweden and, luckily, among philosophers in Sweden, there seems to be an openness to express and work on controversial ideas. Still, as a philosopher, one benefits from voluntary help from other philosophers by, for example, getting answers to one’s questions, advice, comments on one’s work, and letters of recommendations when applying to master’s and PhD programmes. I don’t know whether globally, on average, established analytic philosophers would help a pessimistic young philosopher as much as an optimistic one. Some professors seem to help as much regardless, which is nice, but some would likely not. Also, those who admit and hire philosophers might tend to select those with views similar to their own. If optimistic views are common in analytic philosophy, those who admit and hire might tend to select applicants with optimistic views. The following passage by Professor Randolph Nesse is relevant:
I used to believe that truth had a special home in universities…. Universities may be [the] best show in town for truth pursuers, but most stifle innovation and constructive engagement of real controversies, not just sometimes, but most of the time, systematically. How can this be?… Chairs often hire supporters who work in their own areas, but what if one wants to hire someone doing truly innovative work, someone who might challenge established opinions? Faculty committees intervene to ensure that most positions go to people just about like themselves…. No one with new ideas, much less work in a new area or critical of established dogmas, can hope to get through this fine sieve. If they do, review committees are waiting. And so, by a process of unintentional selection, diversity of thought and topic is excluded. If it still sneaks in, it is purged.
And, according to Metzinger, “Academia is not a meritocracy.”[6]
Let’s turn to another career-related mechanism outside of academia. My impression is that optimism and positivity are rewarded.[7] I recall corporate job ads seeking a person who “spreads positive energy to the group” and one can imagine how being an outspoken advocate of, for example, antinatalism would be a disadvantage for your career if your boss and colleagues have children.
For political parties and politicians to get more votes, it seems advantageous to communicate hope and a nice vision of the future. The following is a plausible position but, as a message, it seems unappealing in both politics and advocacy: the world is terrible and may get worse, but we should still try to make it less bad.
We also have psychological mechanisms such as that it can be unpleasant to hear about suffering or how bad a child’s life or the future might become.[8]
At universities: What is taught, influence by teachers, how views are talked about, and what research gets funded
It seems that widespread ethical views tend to get more room in the teaching of ethics. If there is an optimism among analytic philosophers, I would expect optimistic views to get more room in teaching. For example, I think one can get a bachelor’s and then a master’s degree in philosophy, focusing on moral philosophy, without any teacher mentioning antinatalism or negative utilitarianism. So students may not even be aware that these views exist. Also, in my experience, someone who teaches about a view they disagree with may not explain the attractiveness and arguments for the theory as well as someone who agrees with it. This can in some cases be intentional, but it may also be because it is harder to explain the case for a view you don’t find compelling.
Besides what is taught, teachers might influence their students. This need not be intentional. Students may simply pick up the views and interests of their teacher. Again, if optimism is the majority view among analytic philosophers, one would expect there to be more influence of optimism than pessimism.
There is also a social and career aspect to how views are talked about at universities. If professors talk about a view in terms of ‘that sounds implausible; that’s radical,’ then there is a social and perhaps a perceived career hurdle for a student to say ‘I disagree. I think it’s a plausible view and I don’t care if it’s radical.’ One can see how this could influence what views students and junior researchers express and work on.
Finally, good luck submitting an application for ethics research funding with a proposal along the lines: ‘I hypothesise that it is always wrong to bring sentient beings into existence and that it would be better than the status quo if humanity stopped procreating and thereby went extinct.’ Maybe this could get funded but I guess and have heard that it would be an uphill battle to get funding from the standard, large funding organisations.
Risks of expressing controversial ideas
According to Professor David Benatar, “There are cases of philosophers with reasonable concerns about their safety – concerns that arise from a hostile reception to their ideas.”[9] He continues,
This is worrying in itself. People should not have to fear for their safety on account of the ideas they express. It is also worrying because of the chilling effect such fears could have. The fear of personal violence is not the only means to a chilling effect. There are lesser threats that can have the same effect. We should worry about those too.[10]
One philosopher was given bodyguards due to risk to the person’s safety. A philosopher posed a threat of lethal violence to me, so I took extra safety measures for a while. Although less related, several people, including in other countries, have planned or attempted to kill a controversial Swedish artist.[11] And a Swedish investigative journalist describes how he lives like in a bunker with cameras, armoured doors and sometimes guards.[12]
I write about controversial topics (e.g., my paper on the world destruction argument), and due to my views and work in moral philosophy, I’m a bit concerned about my safety (I could say more about why, but this does not seem to be the place for that). I live a normal life, but I take some precautions to be safer. I hope I don’t self-censor to avoid such risks. I’m more concerned about the effect that perceived risks might have on the broader debate about pessimism, antinatalism, negative utilitarianism, voluntary human extinction via childlessness, etc.
If someone perceives that talking favourably about controversial ideas increases personal risks, that person may talk less about the ideas. What can be done? One partial solution is that people talk more about the idea so that it becomes more mainstream, which might reduce the risk or the perceived risk. A second partial solution builds on safety in numbers. If more people talk about an idea, it might be less likely for any one of these individuals to get subjected to something bad, compared to if there are only a few who express the idea and stand out.
Behind the scenes efforts to discourage favourable talk of pessimism
In 2019, there were efforts behind the scenes to discourage writing that the future will be bad.[13] The non-public communication guidelines[14] I was encouraged to follow were wide in scope, saying:
We encourage you to follow these guidelines for all forms of public communication, including personal blogs, social media, essays, books, talks, meetups, and scholarly publications.
I am not aware that these efforts have stopped, and there might be more instances than I have seen. The people and organisations I have asked who are connected to these efforts have not answered questions.[15] A sensible response to these activities is to promote an open environment for debate and inquiry by making sure one is not affected by the activities and that one is outspoken about pessimism, antinatalism, negative utilitarianism, etc. Also, if someone opposed to pessimism about the future says it is a minority view, one can point to these efforts and say: ‘well, there have been efforts behind the scenes to try to discourage people from expressing the view, and we don’t know how extensive these efforts have been and how widespread pessimism about the future would otherwise have been.’ In other words, partly due to such efforts, pessimistic views might be artificially underrepresented in public writings and discussions.
Careers in academia exploring pessimism, antinatalism, negative utilitarianism, etc.
I wish more people would pursue careers in academia exploring these topics because of how little work is being done on them and how valuable such work could be. A base step seems to be to complete a relevant PhD (a PhD in philosophy seems to be the most relevant).
I don’t know whether it is important to thereafter be employed by a university as, for example, a lecturer or professor. As long as one keeps publishing, giving talks, making videos or the like of high quality, and have enough funding to do so, it may not matter much whether one is funded by university employment, a research grant, savings, a nonprofit, or some other funding source. And the funding source might vary over time: after completing the PhD, perhaps one gets a postdoc for a couple of years, then part-time lecturing jobs while partly living of savings, then one might do a project for a nonprofit, and then get a research grant that lasts a few years, and so on. This is included in what I broadly call ‘careers in academia.’
The following are some caveats and clarifications: I’m not encouraging people to decide on a moral view such as antinatalism or negative utilitarianism and then go into academia to defend it their whole lives. And I’m not encouraging people to get a PhD or become a professor to get more credibility when doing moral advocacy. I recommend doing research, speaking to the public and teaching in a balanced way, and not push one’s view on students. I also think it’s a good idea to have an open mind and to be prepared to change opinion and raise arguments against one’s favourite view. That said, it is fine to believe that a view such as pessimism is plausible, important, promising, neglected and that there is more to be explored and said about it. Perhaps one even thinks that one has a new and important point to make about the idea.
References
Metzinger, T. (2003). Being no one: The self-model theory of subjectivity. Cambridge, Massachusetts; London, England: MIT Press.
Metzinger, T. (2013). Two principles for robot ethics. In E. Hilgendorf & J.-P. Günther (Eds.), Robotik und gesetzgebung (pp. 263–302). Baden-Baden: Nomos. https://www.philosophie-e.fb05.uni-mainz.de/files/2013/07/Metzinger_RG_2013_penultimate.pdf
Metzinger, T. (2017). Suffering. In K. Almqvist & A. Haag (Eds.), The return of consciousness: A new science on old questions. Stockholm: Axel and Margaret Ax:son Johnson Foundation. https://www.philosophie-e.fb05.uni-mainz.de/files/2013/07/Metzinger_Suffering_2017.pdf
Rachels, S. (2014). The immorality of having children. Ethical Theory and Moral Practice, 17(3), 567–582.
Vinding, M. (2020). Suffering-focused ethics: Defense and implications. Copenhagen: Ratio Ethica.
Notes
[1] My example formulation of antinatalism draws on what Professor David Benatar said in a podcast starting at 6:32 until 9:57, but antinatalism could be formulated in other ways.
[2] Metzinger (2003, p. 622) says: ‘something that almost all of us should be able to agree on is what I will term the “principle of negative utilitarianism”: Whatever else our exact ethical commitments and specific positive goals are, we can and should certainly all agree that, in principle, and whenever possible, the overall amount of conscious suffering in all beings capable of conscious suffering should be minimized.’ See also Metzinger (2013, 2017, p. 251).
[3] Thomas Metzinger, e-mail to the author, April 11, 2020, quoted with permission. He writes about similar things in Metzinger (2017, sec. Narrative self-deception).
[4] Rachels (2014, p. 567).
[5] Rachels (2014, pp. 580–581).
[6] Thomas Metzinger, e-mail to the author, April 11, 2020, quoted with permission.
[7] Vinding (2020, sec. 7.12 Social Signaling: Show Your Best, Hide Your Worst) is relevant.
[8] See, e.g., Vinding (2020, sec. 7.2 Contemplating Extreme Suffering Is Painful).
[9] David Benatar, e-mail to the author, April 20, 2020, quoted with permission.
[10] David Benatar, e-mail to the author, April 20, 2020, quoted with permission.
[11] Source in Swedish from 2018: https://www.svt.se/nyheter/lokalt/helsingborg/15-ars-fangelse-for-mordplaner-pa-lars-vilks.
[12] Janne Josefsson says in Swedish: “Jag lever ju som i en bunker … med kameror och vakter ibland och pansardörrar” in an interview starting at 57:26.
[13] The efforts were not only about pessimism; they included other things as well.
[14] In July 2019, I was told by a manager behind these guidelines that the manager and others had finally been able to finalise the guidelines, and the person shared the guidelines with me in the same message. On this web page, I describe the guidelines and quote a later, revised version from September 2019. My recollection is that the version from September 2019 was watered-down compared to the original version from July 2019. The version from July 2019 is more relevant to the coordination around the time the $1,000,000 grant was awarded in July 2019 (which I also describe here), and it is more relevant to how the organisation that awarded the grant operates. I can’t quote the version from July 2019 because I no longer have access to it and the management of the organisation behind them will not share it or answer my questions about it. In October 2019, I wrote about the guidelines in public, and after that, a somewhat further revised and watered-down version of the guidelines was shared publicly here (as of 17 May 2020, the public document says it was last updated 14 February 2020). One can find the public version by searching on that page for ‘guidelines recommend communicating’.
[15] On 19 May 2020, before I published this text, I showed this section until this note to the two co-executive directors who are listed as two of the authors of the guidelines I quote. I asked if they want to say anything about the passage; in particular, I conveyed that I was trying to give them an opportunity to object or the like before publication. Only one of them replied saying the passage creates an inaccurate impression, and that they don’t have the time to engage. They did not say what the inaccuracy would be and they have still not answered any of my previous questions about the activities or shared the original guidelines that I have asked for.