The Ethics of Safety
In “Your Risk vs. Everyone’s Risk” I posed a scenario in which some national policy decision raised everyone’s probability of dying “prematurely” from (let’s say) 50% to 50.1%. I then explored the difference between the questions, “Should I worry for my own safety?” and “Is this a permissable policy?” My conclusion was that the correct answers to both questions were “No!”
Then in “Costs and Benefits” I convinced myself that I’d been half wrong: The answer to the first question is certainly still “No!” but the correct answer to the second question is, “It depends on what other effects the policy has.” Namely, how many “premature deaths” does it prevent that would occur in the absence of that policy? Or even, how much does that policy improve the quality of life, and for how many people? This is of course much, much more difficult to estimate reliably, considering that we don’t even seem capable of responding to self-caused catastrophes. That’s probably why so many people resort to morality (an obligatory, fixed list of dos and don’ts) instead of rational ethics.
It’s obvious, I hope, that any policy decision governing the lives of millions of people will cause some to die “prematurely” and others to live longer, as well as improving the quality of life for some and ruining it for others. No list of morals can simplify this problem. But that’s exactly what decision-making bodies like governments, agencies and the judicial system have attempted to use as guidelines.
Example: in the middle of the 20th Century, it was feasible to detect selenium (Se) at the parts per million (ppm) level, and we discovered that such levels of Se (a heavy metal poison) were a health problem. So the US Congress passed a law making it illegal to sell foodstuffs containing a detectable amount of Se. Within a few years we learned to detect parts per billion (ppb) of Se. That’s when we discovered that Se is an essential mineral — making it illegal by act of Congress to sell food that would keep you alive.
“Silly administrative error,” you may say. But there is another example:
When the Nuclear Regulatory Commission (NRC) took over regulation of radioactive emissions from nuclear power plants in the USA, a generation who had grown up with the psychological traumas of the Cold War (but had no actual knowledge of the health effects of radiation) were easily persuaded that the only acceptable amount of radioactive material in the environment was zero, ignoring the fact that there is not zero of anything, anywhere, if that thing is real. “Zero Tolerance” is often used as a tool of tyranny, and is never a good idea. But the NRC was forced by ignorant public opinion to entrench a criterion known as ALARA (As Low As Reasonable Achievable) for nuclear reactor emissions, based on the (now thoroughly discredited) LNT (Linear, No Threshold) model of the health effects of radiation, which posits that there is no nonzero radiation exposure that is “harmless” — this despite the plentiful data on residents of regions where the natural background radiation levels are dozens of times higher than normal, showing that they are actually healthier than their less exposed fellows (see hormesis). This has made nuclear power as expensive and difficult to install as the industry could afford and still compete with fossil fuels — and, eventually, more expensive and difficult to install, with the result that this relatively safe, low-carbon power source has been effectively suppressed in favor of the pollution-belching fossil fuel power plants that kill millions annually and have catapulted us into anthropic global climate change.
So, yeah — ignorant, moralistic “safety” kills!
It doesn’t have to be this way. There is still time, but no time for dawdling or ignorant heel-dragging.
I welcome any comments explaining where I have been mistaken in the above, but please don’t embarrass yourself by telling me, “Everyone knows…”
