Trout and Autonomy

In this posting I want to consider the way individual autonomy interacts with a proposed expansion of the domain of our natural empathy as suggested by J D Trout in (THE EMPATHY GAP, 2009 Viking). Trout argues any expansion of our natural empathy requires good options and the capacity for good decision making. He further argues the poor sometimes don’t have good options they can care about. He still further argues any expansion of our natural empathy is made difficult by our psychological biases such as favouring the status quo, overestimating our capabilities and discounting our future in decision-making. For example most people fail to save adequately for their old age because they over discount the future. Lastly he argues we are sometimes faced by complex decisions for which we don’t have the necessary capabilities needed to make a good decision. Consider for example the controversy surrounding the MMR vaccine, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MMR_vaccine_controversy .

Trout argues the twin pillars of any great society are creating the conditions in which we can be happy whilst at the same time allowing others a fighting chance to achieve this state, see page 39. He argues our limited capacity for long range empathy makes these goals difficult to achieve in practice. He believes our decision making might be changed to increase this limited capacity. In order to achieve this he believes the state must play a part in improving our decision making. He suggests the state might do this in two ways. Firstly it might improve our decision making by limiting some of our options. For instance he argues drivers who don’t wear seat belts or motorcyclists who don’t wear helmets have psychological biases that underestimate the probability of injury and overestimate their ability to cope once they are injured. To combat these biases he argues the state should simply prohibit such behaviour. Some of the ways he believes the state might limit our behaviour are quite sophisticated. For instance he believes all, who can, should be compelled to save for their old age. He argues this saving should come from wage increases rather than existing income in order to counteract our natural psychological bias to over discount the future. Secondly Trout suggests our decision making would be improved if when faced with complex decisions, for which we don’t have the necessary capabilities needed to make a good decision, we limit our decision making by accepting the accepted wisdom of experts. He believes this suggestion should apply especially to policy makers who should help formulate the aims of society; but should accept the advice of experts in how to best implement these aims. Trout believes if these two suggestions are adopted people would quickly adapt and accept them, see page 180.

I have a great deal of sympathy with Trout’s aims, nevertheless I now want now to consider whether his suggestions would affect our autonomy. I believe for all practical purposes Trout believes his suggestions would not damage most people’s autonomy. I believe Trout would argue even if for some people some options become unavailable that this loss would be more than compensated for by other people having their options increased by better education and a reduction in poverty. Trout it seems to me takes a purely instrumental view of the value of autonomy. I do not share this view and believe the intrinsic value of autonomy is also important. I now want to examine how our apparently different views about the value of autonomy might affect the acceptability of any limitations on our freedom of choice.

Prior to commencing this examination I want to make it clear I agree with Trout’s second suggestion. There are certain situations in which we cannot make truly autonomous decisions and I believe it does not damage our autonomy if in such situations we delegate decision making to experts. For instance in a medical context patients giving informed consent are supplied with a great deal of information which many find hard to understand. Moreover patients are often stressed and may be squeamish about learning about all the details of their condition. It seems clear to me provided a patient can articulate what she hopes treatment can achieve for her and these hopes are realistic that she can make a genuine autonomous decision to delegate all decisions as to her actual treatment to her doctors. It further seems to me that if such a patient is more fully informed she might not really understand the information provided and hence not be able to make a genuinely autonomous decision. In the light of the above I would argue, as does Trout, once policy makers have set out a policy, such as ones concerning our future energy requirements or reducing greenhouse gases, they should delegate the way the actual policy is to be implemented to the agreed experts. I would further argue such delegation does not damage our status as autonomous persons and may even enhance it.

Trout is concerned with good decision making. Moreover it seems he believes if our ability to make good decisions is not damaged then neither is our autonomy. In this blog I have frequently argued an autonomous decision is one we are wholehearted about and that being wholehearted simply involves an absence of desire or any restlessness to change that decision. I also argued in my posting of 01/07/08 that autonomous decisions are decisions that satisfice us rather than the best the best possible decision. It follows any improvement in our decision making whilst it may well improve our capacity for autonomy does not of necessity change the value of our autonomy. A down to earth concept of autonomy is provided by Waller.

“Genuine autonomy requires options available within our actual environment, options chosen on the basis of our conditional preferences and changing circumstances; not mysterious alternatives that transcend all causal and environmental influences. This natural biological view of autonomy with its mundane alternatives, has special value in the medical environment.” (2001, Patient Autonomy Naturalised, Perspectives in Biology and Medicine 44(4), page 584)

In his paper Waller points out in a medical context limitations on a patient’s decision making may lead to passivity that threatens both her physical and psychological well-being, see page 585. It might then be argued, in a more general setting, any limitations placed on our ability to make some decisions also damages our well-being in the same way. Trout might respond to the above by pointing out that in many cases our apparent ability to make decisions is already severely limited or even illusory due to our psychological biases. In reply to such an objection I would point out what affects our physical and psychological well-being is not our actual ability to make decisions but rather our perception of ourselves as decisions makers. Trout appears to concur with the above, see page 57. It follows any limitations placed on some of the decisions we can make may well damage our well-being.

Trout might well further respond that whilst limitations on some of the decisions we can make may indeed damage our well-being in certain areas this damage is more than compensated for by increases in our well-being in other areas or over time. For instance if the autonomy of parents is limited by requiring them to ensure their children are educated this loss is more than balanced by an increase in their children’s well-being over time. Few if any would question such a limitation. However I will still believe any limitations imposed on our autonomy should be a cause of concern. In order to understand this concern we must try to understand why any limitations imposed on our autonomy affect our physical and psychological well-being. I would suggest it is because these limitations may affect our perception of the kind of person we are. This perception is tied to the intrinsic value of autonomy. Dworkin argues autonomy has both instrumental value and intrinsic value.

“But there is a value connected with being self-determining that is not a matter of either of bringing about good results or the pleasure of the process itself. This is the intrinsic desirability of exercising the capacity for self-determination. We desire to be recognized as the kind of creature capable of determining our own destiny”. (1988, The Theory and Practice of Autonomy, Cambridge University Press,
page 112.)

I would argue the intrinsic value of autonomy is fundamental and that our capacity to make decisions, good or bad, becomes meaningless without this value, without us perceiving ourselves and being perceived as the kinds of creature capable of determining our own destinies. In the light of the above I would suggest priority must be given to recognising us as the kind of creatures, who perceive ourselves as being capable of making our own decisions, rather than any attempt to improve our decision making by limiting our ability to make certain decisions in an effort to overcome our harmful psychological biases. My suggested priority does not mean we cannot limit some of the decisions open to us. Further my suggested priority does not mean we can be autonomous without having meaningful choices. It seems obvious if people are to have meaningful choices that they must have a minimal standard of living to enable them to make these meaningful choices. It follows any disagreement between Trout and myself is to a certain extent a matter of degree. It does however mean we should not limit any decisions open to us if by limiting these decisions we might damage the intrinsic value of our autonomy. It might even be open to experiment to see how many limitations on the decisions people can accept without damaging their perception of themselves as the kind of creature capable of determining our own destinies.

The Knobe Effect and Brutality

In this posting I want to consider one of the most famous findings in experimental philosophy. In 2003 Joshua Knobe discovered there is an asymmetry in the way we ascribe intentional acts http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joshua_Knobe . The Knobe effect might be described as follows. If the manager of a company knowingly damages the environment in his search for greater profits then his action in damaging the environment is regarded as intentional. However if the same manager of the company knowingly benefits the environment in his search for greater profits then his action is regarded as unintentional. Logically it would seem the two situations are equivalent and we should regard both acts as either intentional or unintentional. Is it possible to explain the Knobe effect?

An interesting attempt to partly explain this effect is provided by Richard Holton and will shortly appear in Analysis, see http://web.mit.edu/holton/www/pubs/Norm&Knobe.pdf . In his paper Holton links the attribution of intentionality to norms. Holton argues whether an action is judged intentional depends on whether in performing the action the agent intentionally violates or intentionally conforms to a norm. Holton further argues intentional violation of a norm just requires that one knowingly violates it. Whilst intentionally conforming to a norm requires that one lets the norm guide one’s actions. It follows according to Holton that there is an asymmetry between violating and conforming to norms and conforming to norms and that this asymmetry is reflected in the way we attribute intentionality. This is an interesting idea but in this posting I want to link the Knobe effect to the vice of brutality.

Most, if not all, experimental philosophers are to some extent unhappy with virtue theory. They would argue our moral responses are essentially guided by external factors such as the situations we find ourselves in rather than internal factors such as character. I do not deny the importance of situations in affecting our moral decisions but I don’t want to downplay the relevance of character. I do not intend to defend virtue theory in detail here but will limit myself to making a few observations. Firstly had I been in the situation of fuehrer in the third Reich I refuse to believe that this situation would have meant that that I would have made the same decisions as Hitler did concerning the Jews and the holocaust. It seems obvious to me that not all people in identical situations act in an identical way. Indeed this conclusion is borne out by experimental philosophy. Experimental philosophy shows in certain situations most people act in a similar way but it does not show all people act in this way. It also seems obvious to me the reason why not all people act in a similar fashion must be connected to our internal dispositions. When and when these dispositions are good dispositions they might be regarded as virtues and the persons holding them may be regarded as having virtuous characters and when these dispositions are bad dispositions they might be regarded as vices and the persons holding them may be regarded as having vicious characters. I will not consider what constitutes a ‘good or bad disposition’ here, for those interested there are plenty of works on virtue ethics. In the light of the above it is clear that virtues and vices are of some importance in our moral decision making.

Brutal behaviour is defined as behaviour that is very cruel or violent and shows no feelings for others, or an act of this type according to the Cambridge Online Dictionary. However I would like to separate the concepts of brutality and cruelty. I accept a brutal person shows no feelings for others but I would argue that paying attention to the feelings of others is an essential element of cruelty, see for instance (Gabrielle Taylor, 2006, Deadly Vices, Oxford, pages 115-6). Let it be accepted that brutal behaviour involves violence without any regard for the feelings of others. It might appear that I would be inaccurate if I called the behaviour of a manager of a company, who knowingly damages the environment in his search for greater profits, brutal. It might be objected brutality is concerned solely with violence towards persons and the manager might be better described as unthinking or inconsiderate. Philosophers must be accurate in the way they use words but I believe the above objection carries little weight. Firstly we can certainly speak acting brutally towards animals. Secondly we might also for instance speak of the Israeli Army acting brutally towards Gaza. It might further objected in response to my second point that when we talk of the Israeli’s Army brutality towards Gaza what we are really talking about is brutality towards the people of Gaza. My reply to this further objection is that it would still seem to make sense to say the Israeli Army acted brutally towards Gaza even if it did not physically harm the people of Gaza because it destroyed people’s homes and destroyed the infrastructure. Accepting the above would make it possible to argue by analogy that it is indeed possible to act brutally towards the environment. If someone destroys habitats and ecosystems he wantonly harms the people, including future people who will be denied these resources, and animals who depend on these habitats and ecosystems.

Even if it is accepted that it makes sense to talk of someone acting brutally, viciously, towards the environment in a search for profits brutality alone offers no explanation for the asymmetry of the Knobe effect. In what follows I want to briefly consider the implications of Richard Holton’s ideas concerning norms and intentionality for virtue theory and intentionality. Recall Holton argues whether an action is judged intentional depends on whether in performing the action the agent intentionally violates or intentionally conforms to a norm. Holton further argues intentional violation of a norm only requires that one knowingly violates it whilst conforming to a norm requires that one attends to the demands of the norm. It follows there is an asymmetry between the conditions necessary for violating a norm and conforming to a norm. I will now argue that such an asymmetry also applies to acting virtuously and acting viciously. Let it be accepted virtues and vices are character traits. Let it be further accepted that virtuous acts naturally flow from a good character. A virtuous person doesn’t have to think about which is the best action in most situations his actions just flow from his character. It might be argued a virtuous person doesn’t intend good actions he just naturally does for the most part good actions. I would argue most people are naturally virtuous to some degree. I must make it clear I am not arguing a virtuous person always acts well. I am only arguing for a probabilistic form of virtue which just requires that a virtuous person usually acts well, see for instance Robert Adams (2006, A THEORY OF VIRTUE, Oxford, page 122). I would suggest not only do most people usually act well but that we naturally expect most people to usually act well. Such a suggestion might well be open to experiment. If my suggestion is correct then it follows when we see someone acting viciously we assume he is acting contrarily to what is natural for most people and hence intends his actions. It further follows there is an asymmetry between virtue and vice with regard to intentionality. If we see someone acting well, acting virtuously, we see his actions as natural rather than intentional whilst if we see someone acting viciously we see his actions as unnatural and hence intentional. Accepting my suggestions means the Knobe effect might possibly be explained by virtue theory. The manager who damages the environment in is search for profits is acting brutally towards nature, viciously, unnaturally and hence intentionally; whilst if he benefits the environment in his search for profits he is acting naturally and hence unintentionally.

I have suggested that the Knobe might be linked to the vice of brutality. My suggestion is based on the premise that if we see someone acting brutally we assume he is acting contrarily to what is natural for most people and hence intends his actions. Is it possible in the light of experimental philosophy to test this premise? Perhaps a modified Knobe experiment, in which it is explained to the participants that the manager damaging the environment is a sociopath or psychologically damaged, might yield different results. Such an experiment would be interesting. In conclusion I have attempted in this post to link virtue theory and the Knobe effect. I myself am unsure as to how successful my attempt has been. Regardless of the success of my attempt this attempt should not be seen as either quirky or some minor enterprise. The Knobe effect is important and robust with regard to intentionality. Praise or blame depends on intentionality. For instance we would blame the manager who damages the environment in his search for profits. It follows the Knobe effect has ethical implications. If virtue ethics is to remain meaningful virtue ethicists must be able to account for these implications.

"Caring about" ill persons

In chapter 2 of her book (illness, 2008, Acumen) Havi Carel discusses the attitude of others towards her illness; this is an excellent book which I would thoroughly recommend. Carel says of illness “There are many terrible things about illness; the lack of empathy hurts the most” page 37. In this posting I want to examine this apparent lack of empathy. In my last posting I argued all empathy can be considered to be limited to some degree. I further argued that this limitation by degree may be necessary to enable health professionals do their job successfully. In this posting I want to consider the apparent lack of empathy for the ill person by his friends, colleagues and acquaintances. I will suggest this apparent lack of empathy might be better described as blocked empathy rather than limited empathy and will suggest ways in which this blockage might be eased.

All emotions are intentional in some way. This intentionality gives us reasons to act. It would be stupid to say I fear a tiger if I fail to flee, provided I can, when I see one approaching me. Empathy is experiencing the emotions of another and hence gives us a reason to act. Recently my wife was successfully treated for breast cancer. However the time of her initial diagnosis and subsequent lumpectomy followed by radiotherapy was stressful and worrying for her. During this period I felt natural empathic concern for her. Concurrently with this concern I had strong feeling of helplessness. I am sure my wife also felt this helplessness. Because I am considering attitudes to ill people I want to concentrate on my own feeling of helplessness. I have suggested emotions based on empathic concern naturally give us reasons to act. Perhaps my feeling of helplessness partly occurred because I felt an inability to react in a meaningful way to my concern. My concern felt as though it was in some way thwarted or blocked. This perceived inability may deny ill people due empathic concern and in extreme cases destroy this concern completely. Carel speaks of her friends who stayed away because they do not know what to say, page 50. I now want to suggest ways round this apparent blockage. I have argued that health professionals must limit the degree they experience empathy. I will argue that friends of an ill person need not limit their experience of empathy for the ill person but that they must accept limitations on how they can react to this experience. Nevertheless I will further argue their reactions can be meaningful.

I have argued in previous postings empathic concern for someone must involve respecting his autonomy. I now want to consider our attitude towards the autonomy of an ill person. In healthcare in the west there is a long tradition of informed consent which is based on respect for patient autonomy, indeed I wrote a thesis on this subject. This respect means accepting the decisions of a competent patient. However if we believe respecting the autonomy of an ill person is simply means accepting his decisions then I believe we possess a very impoverished view of the value of autonomy. Gerald Dworkin sees part of the value of our autonomy as being “recognized as the kind of creature capable of determining our own destiny” (1988, The Theory and Practice of Autonomy. Cambridge University Press, page 112). Dworkin’s view of respecting autonomy might be seen in part as a phenomenological view, the view favoured by Carel. Respecting autonomy according to Dworkin is not just treating someone in a certain way by accepting his decisions but involves seeing him as someone who is capable of making his own decisions. Carel points out being chronically ill often results in people talking to one’s companions or carers rather than directly addressing the ill person. In such a situation even if the person behaving this way accepts the ill person’s decisions I would argue because she fails to see the ill person as someone who can make his own decisions she does not respect his autonomy. It follows because such behaviour is incompatible with respecting autonomy it is also incompatible with genuine empathic care. Carel also argues ill persons are expected to conform to certain patterns of behaviour dictated by society or others. Presumably such conformist ill persons are expected to make decisions that conform to some expected norm. In the light of the above it would appear the ill persons are not being seen as the sort of persons capable of making their own decisions and hence once again their autonomy is not being genuinely respected. It follows expecting an ill person to conform to some norm is also incompatible with true empathic care.

I have argued if we feel genuine empathic concern for someone this concern is not essentially passive. Indeed I would doubt anyone can feel genuine empathic concern for another if he does not also feel some urge for action. I have suggested above that the nature of some illnesses means the expression of this urge might be blocked. Nonetheless we must take some active steps to express our concern. The first step in expressing this concern is simply to make the ill person aware of our concern. We should directly express our sympathy. It is pointless expressing our sympathy to friends and acquaintances of the ill person whilst not directly communicating our concern to him for reasons such as embarrassment or fear.

I now want to consider further ways in which we might deal with any blockage of empathy in our dealings with chronically ill persons. First we must consider the causes of this blockage. This blockage in empathy may have two causes. The first cause is simply the physical nature of the illness. We are for the most part unable to react in a meaningful way to alleviate the physical nature of the illness. However it might be thought we can nevertheless express our concern by actively helping the ill person. I will now argue even if such concern is genuine, and I believe in most cases it is genuine, that nonetheless such unilateral help is sometimes both ineffective and unwanted. It is argued by Atkin’s that those of us in good health cannot truly imagine what it is like to be a chronically ill person (2000, Autonomy and the subjective character of experience, Journal of applied philosophy 17(1)). It follows if we accept a phenomenological account of illness that we cannot easily and never fully understand the needs and fears of a chronically ill person. We may of course imagine what it would be like for us if we suffered from the same illness. It follows epistemic ignorance also blocks our urge to act damaging our natural empathic concern. It might be argued any care is better than no care and that we should care for the ill person in the way we feel is best. Such an attitude to me seems to be both a lazy and arrogant attitude. It seems to me to be a lazy attitude because with dialogue we might become more fully aware of the ill person’s needs and fears. It follows if we are to offer genuine empathic concern rather than lazy partial empathic concern that we must engage in a dialogue with the ill person. However Carel points she “is not any obligation to anyone to engage in conversations about my illness or oxygen”, page 45. Carel is of course correct as any forced attempt to engage in dialogue would not see the ill person as someone who can make his own decisions and as a result would fail to respect his autonomy, as argued above. It then further follows any dialogue must be initiated by the ill person and not by our urge to act beneficently. It seems any dialogue based on empathic concern for an ill person should be an asymmetric one driven by the patient. Such a dialogue seems analogous to the one that Carl Rogers believed should take place between a counsellor and his client http://www.mythosandlogos.com/Rogers.html Rogers believed such a dialogue should have three essential elements; it must be genuine and involve both acceptance and understanding. Our relations with an ill person must be genuine. We must make him aware of our sympathy as I have argued above. We must also accept that the ill person will initiate and lead any dialogue that takes place. Lastly if we are to offer genuine empathic concern we must try to understand his worries and concerns.

Patient Advocacy and Caring

In this posting I want to explore the idea of caring further in a nursing context. It is now common to talk of nurses of not just caring for a patient’s physical needs but also acting as the patient’s advocate, see for instance Brier Mackie (1). I want to question whether acting as a patient’s advocate might be inconsistent with a nurse’s key role as a professional carer. In order to examine whether this inconsistency is real I will also examine the concept of caring.

Brier-Mackie believes patients are often unable to verbalise their needs and it is one of the roles of a nurse to act as a patient advocate in order to enable them do so.

“Patients who are confronted with the autonomy/paternalism dichotomy are often unable to verbalize their needs and wants to their doctors either because they are intimidated by the doctors’ perceived power, or because the doctors lack the time to listen to their concerns” (2)

In many hospital situations the needs of the patient are simple and nurses have no reason to verbalise her needs, for instance in the case of a patient having a lumpectomy for breast cancer the patient’s needs are almost self-evident. Nevertheless there are some complex situations in which the patient’s needs are far from self-evident. Such situations are situations in which the patient must balance certain goods, such as the quality of life, with the length of life or the possibility of increased mobility with the risks and dangers of treatment. I agree with Brier-Mackie that in such situations a nurse has as the role to play by acting as a patient’s advocate helping him to verbalise his needs.

Any competent nurse will quickly learn to deal with the physical needs of her patients. However it is by no means so easy to verbalise someone’s non-physical needs. The first thing a good patient advocate must remember is that is she is acting as the patient’s agent rather than his representative. A patient’s advocate acting as his representative should represent her patient’s interests but representing a patient’s interests might be interpreted to mean the patient’s interests as seen by the representative. A patient’s advocate acting as an agent must present her patient’s views and these views might well differ from what the patient’s advocate would objectively regard as being in the patient’s best interests. Nursing is a caring profession and it might appear if a nurse acts as a patient’s advocate by vocalising a patient’s perceived needs, which she believes run counter to his best interests, then by vocalising these needs she is acting in a way which conflicts with the caring aims of her profession.

In order to examine whether the above conflict is real or a simply an illusion we must have a clear idea of what it means to care in a nursing context. I will now consider three suggestions as to the nature of caring in the context of nursing. Firstly in previous postings I have often referred to Harry Frankfurt’s ideas on ‘caring about’. Caring about to Frankfurt involves love and this in turn involves necessity. According to Frankfurt we cannot simply choose to love or whom we love. Nurses clearly do not love all their patients because illness might make some patients awkward and unlovable. It follows when nurses care for their patients they are not ‘caring about’ their patients on the basis of love. Secondly it might be suggested the way nurses care about their patients is defined by the practice of nursing. I am reluctant to accept this suggestion because caring constituted this way would focus directly on the needs of the practice and only indirectly on the needs of individual patients. For an excellent account caring without empathy see Havi Carel (3). For these reasons I believe any good nursing care must involve some empathic concern. What exactly does empathic concern mean? Empathy is defined by the Cambridge Online Dictionary as follows,

“the ability to share someone else's feelings or experiences by imagining what it would be like to be in their situation”.

Using this definition empathic concern might be defined as experiencing the patient’s feelings and acting in a way that attempts to alleviate these feelings. However if the way nurses care about their patients involves empathic concern for their patients a problem arises. Nurses might burn themselves out emotionally in some situations. For example nurses working on an oncology ward might be especially susceptible to this danger. I believe this problem with empathic concern highlighted by my example might be overcome by a limiting but not eliminating, empathic concern for patients.

However before considering whether caring, based on a limited or form of empathic concern, conflicts with a nurse’s role as patient advocate I must examine two problems associated with a limited empathic concern. Firstly if someone limits her empathic concern we might be concerned as to the genuineness of her concern. Indeed it might be argued that ‘limited empathic concern’ is a form of sympathy rather than genuine empathy. In order to address this concern we must consider exactly what I mean by limited empathic concern. Let it be accepted that empathy involves the ability to share someone else's feelings or experiences. Limited empathic concern doesn’t just mean sharing only some of someone’s feelings and experiences. Limited empathic concern cannot involve us in selecting certain feelings or experiences in a pick and mix fashion. Accepting this seems to mean we cannot exude empathy in a generalised way but can only feel empathy for someone or some people in a particular situation. In the rest of this posting when I refer to empathic concern I am referring to empathic concern in a particular situation. It seems to me if we feel ‘limited empathic concern for someone then we must share all of the feelings pertinent to her situation to some degree. Let it be accepted feeling ‘limited empathy’ for someone must involve feeling all the appropriate feelings to her situation to a limited degree. It might be objected to the above if the feelings we share are too limited that ‘limited empathic concern’ is not genuine a form of empathic concern. This may well be true in extreme cases but I would argue all empathic concern is to some extent limited. Consider the case of a mother who loses her child in a shopping mall it is certainly possible for a second mother to feel genuine empathic concern for the first. However I would question whether she shares the first mother’s feelings of panic and alarm to the same degree, her empathic concern is limited to some degree. For this reason I would argue the above objection carries little weight in most situations and that ‘limited empathic care’ based on feeling all the feelings appropriate to a situation in a limited way is a necessary element of genuine empathic concern in that situation.

I now want to argue that ‘limited empathic concern’ based on feeling all of someone’s feelings, pertinent to a particular situation, in a limited way is not a sufficient condition for genuine empathic concern. It seems clear to me genuine empathic concern for someone must include respecting her autonomy, see caring based solely one empathy . However if ‘limited empathic concern’ is a genuine form of empathy and it is based solely on experiencing all of someone’s appropriate feelings to some particular situation in a limited way then it seems to be possible both to care for someone in an empathic way whilst at the same time not respecting her autonomy. Human beings are not rational machines and have a large number of desires and these desires need not always form a consistent set. This might be especially true in the case of illness due to stress. Nevertheless most human beings, including patients, remain autonomous because they can rank their desires. This ranking does not mean someone must be able to give weights to specific desires. It does however mean an autonomous agent can unequivocally say if she desires both x and y and these desires are inconsistent that she prefers x or y. It follows if ‘limited empathic concern’ does not consider the way a patient ranks her desires it is a perverted form of empathic concern. It follows if ‘limited empathic concern’ is a genuine form of empathic concern that it must include both the carer experiencing all of the cared for one’s feelings, appropriate to the situation in a limited way, and being able to accurately represent the way the cared for one ranks her feelings or desires.

Accepting the above gives rise to the second problem connected to limited empathic caring. Is it possible to rank the feelings or desires of another? In what follows I will argue that ‘limited empathic caring’ is possible in practice but difficult to achieve. Firstly it might be suggested that a carer might experience the cared for one’s feelings in a way that is proportionate to the way cared for one experiences these feelings. It might then be further suggested if a carer experiences another’s feelings in a limited but proportionate way she naturally ranks the cared for one’s desires. My example of a mother’s empathic concern for a second mother who has lost her child in a shopping mall seems to support this suggestion. The extremity of the first mother’s feelings in this situation makes this ranking possible. This example is an example of an extreme situation and I believe it unlikely that in most situations a carer can naturally rank the desires of the cared for. However it seems to me that a carer might be able rank a cared for one’s desires in accordance with his ranking through dialogue. If empathic care must of necessity involve respecting autonomy then the purpose of such a dialogue must be the clarification of the cared for one’s desires and feelings. It is of course possible that in some situations this might also involve helping the cared for one clarify her own desires. Such a clarification should enable the carer to rank the cared for one’s feelings in a way that is proportionate to the way the cared for one experiences these feelings. It should however be noted there is great danger attached to such a dialogue. It might be all too easy for the carer to pay attention to the cared for one’s interests rather than help her clarify her feelings and desires. Nevertheless it does seem this second problem can be overcome with care and that limited empathic care is possible.

In the light of the above it is possible to answer the question as to whether a nurse acting as a patient’s advocate, by vocalising a patient’s views which she believes run counter to his best interests, might find herself in conflict with the caring aims of her profession. I have accepted that good nursing care involves limited empathic concern. I have argued limited empathic caring involves the carer experiencing all of the cared for one’s feelings, appropriate to the situation in a limited way. I have also argued limited empathic caring involves respecting the cared for one’s autonomy. If my arguments are accepted and it is also accepted that good nursing involves empathic concern then I can see no reason as to why a nurse’s role as patient advocate should conflict with the caring aims of her profession.

1. Brier Mackie, 2001, Patient Autonomy and Medical Paternity; Can Nurses help Doctors to listen to Patients? Nursing Ethics 8(6),
2. Brier Mackie, page 515.
3. Havi Carel,2008, illness, Acumen, p 38.

The Domain of Political Apology

We live in an age of apparent forgiveness. In this age all sorts of organisations such as governments, corporations, universities and even churches as a matter of course ask for forgiveness. I believe it would be more accurate to talk about these diverse organisations apologising. Forgiveness involves the sentiments and these belong to the domain of persons rather than organisations, see (Griswold, Forgiveness, Cambridge University Press, 2007 chapter 4). On 17/11/09 the Australian Prime Minister Kevin Rudd issued an apology to the 7,000 former child migrants who were taken from Britain and put into state-run homes in Australia where they suffered abuse. It appears that the British government is also to apologise for this matter. I believe some political apologies such as the above are meaningful. Nonetheless it seems clear to me that a great many apparent political apologies are meaningless because genuine apology is not easy. In this posting I want to investigate the domain in which political apology is meaningful.

Griswold argues if an organisation is to issue a meaningful apology that this apology must satisfy four conditions (Griswold, page 150). An organisation must,
Admit responsibility for the action
Admit the deed was wrong.
Say sorry.
Must commit to becoming a better organisation.
These four conditions are the same as the first four conditions Griswold believes are necessary for someone to make a personal apology. Kevin Rudd’s apology on behalf of the Australian Government completely satisfies all these conditions. I agree with Griswold that any meaningful political apology must satisfy these conditions. However in my investigation of the domain of meaningful political apology I want to concentrate on the first of these conditions, admitting responsibility. I will argue if a political apology is to be meaningful that any acceptance of responsibility for the wrong must also be meaningful and that this involves accepting guilt.

When is taking responsibility meaningful? Intuitively saying sorry seems to be an essential element of any apology for no apology would be complete without actually saying sorry. Merely expressing regret is insufficient for genuine apology. At this point it might be useful to differentiate between the different uses of the word “sorry” in expressing apology and regret. When I apologise, I am sorry and the “I” cannot be separated from the sorry if the apology is to be meaningful. When I regret something, I feel sorry for someone and the “I” may be replaced by another person without the regret becoming meaningless. In my previous posting I argued if someone is genuinely sorry then this involves moving from excusing himself to accepting guilt. Guilt differentiates between meaningful apology and regret because guilt ties a particular person to an apology. It follows if meaningful apology involves accepting guilt then any apparent apology which does not involve accepting guilt is not a meaningful apology. Let it be accepted that accepting meaningful responsibility when apologising involves accepting guilt. I believe the above remarks also apply to political organisations. It follows the first way many apparent political apologies are meaningless is because the organisation apologising does not genuinely accept guilt.

One of the principle goals of political apology is the restoration of moral relations with the injured party. This goal is an attractive one to many organisations. Some organisations attempt to apologise without any acceptance of guilt. It might be assumed such an apparently imperfect apology is nonetheless to be welcomed as it encourages some improvement in moral relations. I will now argue any justification for this assumption is weak. I have argued guilt differentiates between meaningful apology and regret. If my argument is accepted then it might be argued that any organisation giving an apparent apology without accepting guilt is actually expressing regret. It might be thought whilst a genuine apology is always preferable to an expression of regret that nonetheless even if an organisation feels it cannot genuinely apologise that any expression of regret is to be welcomed. I have suggested that when I regret something I feel sorry for someone. It seems to me the concept of regret makes sense when considering persons but not organisations. If I feel sorry for someone it would seem I share his feelings and must feel some empathy for him. However organisations are not people and as a result do not feel emotions. It is of course true that the members of an organisation may indeed feel strongly about some of the policies of that organisation but nonetheless I still contend organisations have no feelings. It follows organisations cannot feel empathy and hence express genuine regret. It further follows that any political apology without an acceptance of guilt is neither meaningful nor useful in the restoration of normal moral relationships.

It might be objected to the above that in some contexts in which wrongs occur that, whilst an organisation was responsible for some wrong, the context at the time of the wrong means even if apology is due the acceptance of guilt is inappropriate. It seems to me such an objection is based on a failure to differentiate between factors that excuse an action and factors that mitigate. Excuse means that whilst an action may cause harm no apology is necessary. Excuse means an agent has no reason to feel guilt. Consider for instance the case of Brian Thomas who strangled his wife during a nightmare when he dreamt that intruders had broken into their camper van. When Thomas strangled his wife he was in a state known as automatism. The judge when acquitting him said that he had been a “decent man and a devoted husband” and bore no responsibility for his actions. Thomas had no need to feel guilt because automatism excused him (http://www.independent.ie/world-news/europe/man-who-strangled-wife-in-sleep-walks-free-1950088.html) Mitigation of necessity involves guilt because mitigating circumstances don’t excuse but determine the degree of guilt. Consider the case of Doreen Marshall who crushed sleeping pills into her 90-year-old mother's food and drink in desperation at the quality of her mother’s life. Marshall was guilty of a wrong but the facts that her mother was deaf, blind and bedridden mitigated her guilt nevertheless these factors did not excuse her (http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/this-britain/woman-walks-free-after-mercy-killing-case-671210.html). I am sure the persons involved in both of the above examples suffered great emotional trauma but morally Thomas did no wrong whilst Marshall did, even though her mother’s circumstances mitigated her wrongdoing. Morally it is important to differentiate between excuse and mitigation. The examples of excuse and mitigation I have used above apply to personal moral relations. I am going to assume here that the meaning of excuse and mitigation in the domain of political moral relationships is much the same as that used in personal moral relationships. If this is not so political apology and personal apology would only be very loosely related. This is not so as shown by political apology sharing most of the conditions needed for meaningful apology, see above. It follows there can be mitigating circumstances attached to political apology. However even if there are mitigating circumstances attached to some political apology then some guilt must be accepted if any apology offered is to be meaningful.

However apology is neither easy nor simple. In order to illustrate this I will now examine the provisional IRA’s attempt to apologise on 16/07/02 for its killing of non-combatants, see (http://www.sinnfein.ie/contents/15235). Cleary the IRA attempts to say sorry, “We offer our sincere apologies and condolences to their families”. It also admits to the harm it has caused, “We also acknowledge the grief and pain of their relatives”. Moreover the IRA seems to be genuinely committed to the restoration of normal relations with all the people of Northern Ireland; “We remain totally committed to the peace process and to dealing with the challenges and difficulties which this presents”. The IRA’s genuine commitment to the peace process and the restoration of normal moral relations is praiseworthy. However the IRA has not accepted guilt for its actions. It admits to failures, “The future will not be found in denying collective failures and mistakes or closing minds and hearts to the plight of those who have been hurt” but admitting to failures is not the same as an acceptance of guilt. I have argued above that a meaningful apology requires that the apologiser must accept some degree of guilt. It might also be pointed out that the restoration of normal moral relations in Northern Ireland might well have been easier and quicker had the IRA accepted some degree of guilt. Accepting guilt means one acknowledges that one is responsible for some wrong. The IRA’s statement only accepts that the IRA did some wrongs and that these wrongs were mistakes or collective failures, it does not accept full responsibility for the wrongs. The IRA’s position seems to hold that even if it was responsible for some wrong, the context at the time of the wrong, means that even if apology is due that nevertheless the acceptance of guilt is inappropriate. I have argued above such a position is based on failure to differentiate between excuse and mitigation. Of course there are factors that mitigate the IRA’s actions, such as the B specials and loyalist killings, but mitigating factors only lessen the degree of guilt they do not excuse it. It appears that the IRA did not offer a meaningful apology for its killing of non-combatants and that this failure still helps delay the restoration of normal moral relations in Northern Ireland today.

However politics is a messy business and perhaps for some internal reasons the IRA could not apologise. It might be argued had the IRA offered a more meaningful apology it would have alienated some of its own members. It is possible such alienated members might then have supported other republican dissident groups further delaying the restoration of normal moral relations. In this scenario it might be argued the IRA could not sensibly offer a meaningful apology and the “apology” it did offer was useful. Even accepting the above I still believe the IRA did not offer a meaningful apology for its killing of non-combatants. Nor do I believe it offered its regrets for as I have argued above I don’t believe organisations can genuinely offer regrets. However I do accept the IRA’s “apology” as a statement of intent which is to be welcomed and perhaps this is all that can be expected at this time, as I remarked above political apology is not easy.

Both people and organisations find it hard to accept guilt and find it much easier to excuse themselves. To accept guilt means lowering one’s opinion of oneself or the organisation involved. I am only prepared to accept guilt for my voluntary actions and I am certainly not prepared to accept guilt for someone else’s actions. The “I” accepting guilt must be the same “I” as the one who accepts responsibility if any subsequent apology is to be meaningful. This is relatively unproblematic as far as people are concerned. Let it be accepted any organisation should only accept guilt for some wrong if it is substantially the same organisation that was responsible for the wrong. It follows the second way many apparent political apologies are meaningless is due to the organisation apologising not being substantially the same organisation as the one which was responsible for the wrong. It appears to me that there are two main reasons why an organisation might substantially differ from its predecessor. Firstly there has been some dramatic upheaval or discontinuity within the organisation involved and secondly the passage of time means the organisation has significantly changed its character.

I will now argue if there has been some dramatic upheaval or discontinuity within an organisation between the wrong occurring and the apology being issued that any apology is meaningless. What I am arguing is that in these circumstances even if the name of some organisation remains the same as its predecessor there are in fact two different organisations involved. In order to give my argument some context I want specifically to argue that any post war German Government does not owe the victims of the holocaust an apology. Let it be accepted all post war German governments differ radically from their Nazi predecessor by specifically repudiating Nazi ideology. Intuitively it seems clear that because of the discontinuity of ideals any apology offered by post war German governments on behalf of its Nazi predecessor is meaningless. Any post war German government and its Nazi predecessor are not the same organisation. It might be argued by analogy that it is no more meaningful for any post war German government to apologise for its Nazi predecessor than for someone to apologise for a wrong committed by someone else. It seems to me this analogy is appropriate; it follows apology is not due by any post war German Government for the holocaust. It further follows if there is dramatic upheaval or discontinuity within any organisation that any apology this organisation issues for events prior to this discontinuity is meaningless.

Someone might object to the above by arguing that any apology issued by a post war German was not on behalf of its Nazi predecessor but rather on behalf of the German nation. I suggested above apology is due only from the organisation responsible for the harm. What then does the objector mean by the German nation? If the German nation means the German government then for the reasons given above any apology remains meaningless. If the German Nation means the German people then it seems to me the German people are not a political organisation. It follows the German people cannot issue a political apology. Moreover it is far from clear that even a majority of the German people bear any responsibility for the Holocaust. None of the above denies the terrible suffering of the Holocaust or that post war German governments should not pay reparations to the survivors. After all if I benefit from some wrong which I did not know about, or did not cause, I am nevertheless morally required to return the benefit.

I now want to consider a second way in which an organisation might substantially differ from its predecessor. Intuitively if a sufficiently long time passes then the nature an organisation can significantly change over that period of time. For instance it seems clearly ridiculous to hold the Roman Catholic Church responsible for its part in the crusades. Is it possible to account for this intuition? It seems clear that the policies of most organisations change over a reasonable period of time. However it might be pointed out that for many organisations the groups it represents and the goals it seeks to attain do not change significantly over time. It might then be argued that the groups an organisation represents and the goals it seeks give the organisation its identity. It might then be further argued if these do not change over time then the organisation does not significantly differ over time. Accepting the above argument would mean a change in an organisation’s policies however radical does not change the identity of the organisation. I believe such a conclusion is mistaken and will now argue a significant change in policies of any organisation signifies a significant change in its identity. Let it be accepted that the policies of any organisation do not exist in a vacuum but exist to further the organisation’s goals. Sometimes these policies change due to a change in non moral circumstances. I accept such changes do not change the identity of an organisation. However sometimes policies change for moral reasons. A change in policy due to moral considerations either firstly changes an organisation’s goals or secondly changes the values it believes it should adhere to when seeking to achieve these goals. Any organisation even if it has no explicit values has implicit values and these values are demonstrated by its policies and the way it acts. I would argue that these implicit values, at the very least, help to form the identity of an organisation. Indeed it might be argued these implicit values better define an organisation’s identity than its stated goals as many of these may be mere empty rhetoric. It follows the change over time in an organisation’s policies gradually change the organisation’s identity. It further follows if an organisation’s identity changes, over a significant period of time, then any apology it makes for an event long ago is meaningless.

The trouble with accepting the above is I have used the phrase “significantly differs over time”. There seems no clear cut method of deciding if an organisation differs significantly over time from its predecessor and that any such evaluation must be a matter of judgement. It follows from the above whether political apology is meaningful is also a matter of judgement. Griswold uses the University of Alabama’s apology for slavery as an example of acceptable political apology (Forgiveness, Cambridge University Press, 2007, pages 147, 152). I have used the word acceptable above rather than good as political apology like politics is a messy business. Griswold argues the University’s apology is an acceptable apology as it meets the four conditions he considers necessary for a meaningful political apology. I accept Griswold’s four conditions and that the University has met these conditions. However I have argued above in order for a political apology to be meaningful any organisation should only apologise for some wrong provided it is substantially the same organisation that was responsible for the wrong. I further argued that as the policies of an organisation change over time so does the identity of the organisation. My position over the identity of organisations is roughly analogous to Derek Parfit’s position concerning personal identity, see (Reasons and persons, Oxford University Press, 1984, pages 206, 209). Parfit uses psychological continuity as a criterion of personal identity and I have suggested that the continuity of policies might be used as a criterion of an organisation’s identity. I have suggested an organisation will not be identical with its predecessor if the policies differ significantly. I would argue that the time between the abolition of slavery and the University of Alabama’s apology means the University’s policies have significantly changed further meaning the identity of the University has significantly changed. I would argue this significant change in the identity of the University means that its apology for slavery is not meaningful even if the motives underlying the apparent apology are praiseworthy.

Forgiveness and Narrative

If someone asks for forgiveness Griswold argues she must take responsibility for her harmful actions (Forgiveness, Cambridge University Press, 2007). He further argues she must also be able to offer some kind of narrative both as to why she acted as she did and as to why she now seeks forgiveness. A narrative must combine two elements; firstly it must contain an accurate account of the events concerned and secondly a personal account of why they happened. In this posting I want to investigate the second element of a narrative. In what follows when I refer to the nature of a narrative I am referring to this second element. Let it be accepted that any act needing forgiveness and any accompanying decision to seek forgiveness are intentional acts. Clearly someone need not seek forgiveness for some harm caused by her when she was suffering from a convulsion. She may of course express regret for her actions but she has nothing to apologise for or seek forgiveness. Prima facie it then might be assumed the nature of a narrative of someone seeking forgiveness should concern intention.

However a moment’s reflection casts some doubt on the above assumption. I will now argue some unintentional harmful acts are inexcusable meaning the nature of a forgiveness narrative cannot be solely concerned with an agent’s intentions. For example some brutal acts may be the unthinking product of someone’s intentional actions aimed at achieving some other end. In this context an unintentional brutal act may cause harm which requires forgiveness. Of course I do not deny brutality may be intentional especially if it is part of some deliberate policy. Let it be accepted brutal acts require forgiveness. It now follows that because some brutal acts are unintentional some unintentional acts require forgiveness. The nature of a narrative offered by someone wishing to be forgiven requires she should offer an explanation as to why she acted as she did. If I am correct in believing that some unintentional acts require forgiveness then the nature of a forgiveness narrative cannot be one based solely on intention. For this reason I suggest the nature of a narrative must be based on the character of the agent seeking forgiveness rather than her intentions. Such a narrative must contain three elements. Firstly it must make clear the agent’s character when she caused the harm, secondly her present character as she seeks forgiveness and lastly some explanation as to why her character has changed.

It might be argued the above only holds in certain contexts and that in other contexts the agent’s intentions offer a basis for a far simpler whilst at the same time a completely adequate account of the nature of a forgiveness narrative. It might then be argued the nature of any narrative offered should not be simply based on the agent seeking forgiveness’s character but rather should be a hybrid concept based mostly on intention and only on character when this is necessary. I will now argue that character alone should form the basis of any forgiveness narrative. I will argue that if we accept the conditions Griswold believes are necessary for paradigmatic forgiveness then a narrative based on character rather than intention seems to be required.

Our intentions don’t leap ready formed into our minds. Out intentions are partly formed by the situations we face. Natural selection would soon eliminate members of any species that did not react appropriately to a specific situation. Experimental philosophy seems to suggest that situation is all important and that our character plays little part in our decisions and hence should play little part in any forgiveness narrative, see for instance Appiah (Experiments in Ethics, Harvard University Press, 2008, chapter 2). A constant theme of this Blog is “caring about” or love. Let it be accepted here without any argument that someone’s ideals are something she “cares about” or loves. Frankfurt argues,
“For a person without ideals, there are no volitional laws he has bound himself to respect and to which he unconditionally submits. He has no inviolable boundaries. Thus he is amorphous with no fixed shape or identity.” (Necessity Volition and Love, Cambridge University Press, 1999, page 114)
Such a person, if such a person can possibly exist, is not a candidate for forgiveness. Griswold sets out several conditions an offender must meet for paradigmatic forgiveness. Let us consider an example. Let us assume Sue wants to be forgiven for some offence she has caused. The first condition Griswold thinks Sue must meet is that she must admit she was responsible for the action. Let it be further assumed Sue has no ideals and is amorphous without fixed shape or identity. It follows Sue may well admit she was responsible for the offence one moment but deny it the next. Intuitively Sue does not genuinely meet Griswold’s first condition needed for forgiveness. She might of course be excused blame due to her lack of identity. The above suggests Griswold’s first condition might be slightly reframed so that an offender must consistently admit she was responsible for her action. Consistency in actions requires ideals to act on. It follows someone seeking forgiveness must have ideals. Ideals form character. Nothing I have said about character means the situations we find ourselves in don’t help determine our actions, indeed they do and this fact is important in reminding us of our common humanity. It does however mean that these situations don’t completely determine our actions. Indeed if this was not so we would all act identically in identical situations and this is clearly not the case. I have shown if someone can be forgiven she must have some character however I have yet to show her forgiveness narrative must concern her character.

The fourth condition Griswold believes is necessary for paradigmatic forgiveness is that the offender must be committed to becoming a better person. Someone might try to become a better person by simply avoiding situations similar to that which caused the original offence. Such a tactic may be praiseworthy but a commitment to avoid certain situations seems more like an effort to behave better rather than a genuine commitment to become a better person. Indeed if one accepts the claims of some experimental philosophy, situationist ethics, this might be the only option an agent really has. I however argued above people do indeed have character based on their ideals and I would argue any attempt to become a genuinely better person involves one’s character. It follows the narrative offered as part of forgiveness should refer to character. I believe such a narrative should take the following form. In the past I only cared about X but not Y, I have now changed and I care less about X and now care about Y. Such a narrative contains the three elements I suggested were necessary for any forgiveness narrative based on character. It might be objected someone may believe that she cares about Y but when it she acts she finds she cannot do what caring about Y requires. I accept this may well be true but it is not an argument for replacing character by intention at the heart of a forgiveness narrative. Someone may also fully intend to do y but find she cannot carry out her intention in practice. For these reasons it seems to me any forgiveness narrative should be a character narrative. This character narrative should contain three elements, the agent’s past character, her present character and why her character has changed.

I have argued that paradigmatic forgiveness requires a narrative based on the offender’s character. Does imperfect forgiveness also require such a narrative? Griswold argues if an offender is to be imperfectly forgiven she must at the very least be willing to take some minimal steps to seek forgiveness, this willingness may be in some circumstances be imaginatively reconstructed by the victim (page 115). The question then becomes this. Do the minimal steps any offender must take if she is to be forgiven include a forgiveness narrative based on her character? In my previous posting I argued one of the minimal steps any offender must take for imperfect forgiveness is that she must say sorry. Saying sorry may be imaginatively reconstructed. I further argued if saying sorry is genuine and not simply a case of rhetoric that saying sorry involves a move from excuse to guilt. I still further argued this move from excuse to guilt involves a fundamental change in the way the offender pictures herself. Any fundamental change in the way someone pictures herself involves a change in character. Moreover this change in character can be explained by a narrative. Someone might object even if my argument is accepted it does not automatically follow that such a narrative must play a part in imperfect forgiveness. I disagree; let it be assumed an offender can take the minimal steps needed to seek forgiveness without even the possibility of an imaginatively reconstructed narrative. Let it be further assumed the offender says sorry and behaves in a more moral manner. My objector would seem to be committed to the view that the offender has taken the minimal steps required for imperfect forgiveness. However it seems to be entirely possible that in the above situation the offender has only taken these steps in order to protect her self interests. If this is so I see no reason to forgive the offender. It seems clear to me if someone is to be forgiven it must be possible to give, or at the very least imaginatively reconstruct, a narrative to explain the offender’s change in character. It follows all personal forgiveness, including imperfect forgiveness, requires some sort of character narrative.

Forgiving Polanski

Recently Roman Polanski was arrested in Switzerland on a warrant from the USA for a rape committed in 1978. In this posting I want to use this case to examine some ideas connected to forgiveness. Before doing so I want to make clear that there is a clear separation between justice and forgiveness. If this was not so it would seem possible for someone to criminally assault me, causing me great harm, to escape justice provided I forgave him. Justice cannot be a private matter. The victim of Polanski, Samantha Geimer, says she has forgiven him but this does not mean he should not face justice. I agree with Grayling who argues we should prosecute Polanski because “We prosecute and punish in order to maintain our determination not to countenance such crimes” (see http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/columnists/guest_contributors/article6852996.ece). The fact we cannot countenance some crimes does not mean we cannot forgive the offender. The central question I want to examine in this posting is whether Polanski has met the conditions needed for forgiveness by Geimer. I will argue he has not.

Charles Griswold in (Forgiveness, Cambridge University Press, 2007) sets out the conditions needed for paradigmatic forgiveness. In these conditions Griswold outlines the following three conditions an offender must meet in order to qualify for forgiveness.
“The first of these reasons consists in the wrong-doers demonstration that she no longer wishes to stand by herself as the author of these wrongs …. Second she must repudiate her deeds (by acknowledging their wrongness) …. Third, the wrong-doer must experience and express regret at having caused that particular injury to that particular person” (pages 49, 50).
As far as I can see Polanski has not satisfied any of the above conditions. The fact that the rape happened a long time ago or because of the circumstances prevailing in Hollywood at that time doesn’t mean he wasn’t the rapist or that he doesn’t need to repudiate his action by acknowledging the wrongness of that particular rape. Polanski has also never expressed regret for having raped Geimer. It might of course be argued these paradigmatic conditions set too high a standard and that a non-paradigmatic form of forgiveness should be applied. Griswold himself argues for such a position in chapter three of his book. It might then be questioned whether Polanski meets the conditions needed for non-paradigmatic or imperfect forgiveness. Griswold argues imperfect forgiveness must meet a certain threshold and that anything failing to meet this threshold is not an example of forgiveness. One of his three conditions needed for any sort of forgiveness is that,
“the willingness – whether in fact, or imaginatively reconstructed by the victim … - of the offender to take minimal steps to qualify for forgiveness” (page 115).
Intuitively it would seem to be difficult to class some actions as forgiveness if the offender shows no remorse. I will return to this point later in my posting. However for the moment I am going to assume Griswold view is correct and move on to examine one of the minimal steps an offender must take if he is to be forgiven.

The third condition outlined above for paradigmatic forgiveness is that the offender must experience and express regret at having caused that particular injury. Basically the offender must say sorry to the victim. It is not enough for the offender just to feel sorry. I now want to argue this third condition of paradigmatic forgiveness also a threshold condition for imperfect forgiveness. Mary Warnock commenting in the Observer of 26/04/09 on the release of Ronnie Biggs from prison makes the following comment.
“But apologising is an act that may bear no more relation to contrition than "yours sincerely" bears to meaning what you say when you regretfully decline an invitation”.
(http://www.guardian.co.uk/theobserver/2009/apr/26/observer-panel-ronnie-biggs) If Warnock is correct then saying sorry is not a necessary condition for forgiveness. Let us agree with Warnock that signing something “yours sincerely” has little connection to sincerity. But it seems far from clear to me that “saying sorry” is a mere formality and has little connection to contrition. Let it be assumed for the sake of argument that “saying sorry” is indeed a mere formality. However if “saying sorry” is a mere formality it seems hard to understand why Biggs and others find it hard to so do. Such cases strongly suggest that “saying sorry” is not a mere formality bereft of all real meaning. It might be objected more people apologise now than in the past. I will merely comment that often such apologies are made by individuals on behalf of an organisation like a church, a company or political party and are not instances of someone “saying sorry” for some personal action. It still seems to me that “saying sorry” for some personal act is not a mere formality.

I believe “saying sorry” is not easy because it usually involves making a move from excuse to guilt. The move from excuse to guilt involves a fundamental change in the way the offender pictures himself. It is possible someone like Polanski might excuse his conduct by believing it was just the way people like him behaved in the hedonistic Hollywood of the seventies. If such a person says sorry he not only admits his guilt and by doing so also lets go of his excuse, he becomes a simply a rapist. Let it be accepted if an offender cannot “say sorry” that he must to some degree excuse his conduct. It seems to me if an offender excuses his conduct he has no reason to take the minimal steps needed to qualify for forgiveness. It follows that “saying sorry” is not a mere formality but a necessary condition for even imperfect forgiveness. Indeed if I am correct to connect “saying sorry” with guilt then Griswold’s second condition for paradigmatic forgiveness becomes a threshold condition needed for imperfect forgiveness. It might then be concluded all forgiveness requires firstly that the offender must repudiate his deeds by acknowledging their wrongness and secondly express remorse. Accepting my conclusion implies that because Polanski has failed to meet both of these conditions Geimer cannot forgive him.

It might be pointed out the implications of my conclusion appear to be objectionable. Why should someone like Geimer, who has done no wrong and has been wronged, not be able to forgive the offender in order to leave the offence behind her and move on with the rest of her life? She might adopt the attitude of “I’m not going the let the bastard spoil my life”. I have great sympathy with this position and believe such an attitude together with moving on is commendable. However when doing philosophy, as opposed to pop psychology, we must be accurate with words we use. It would be a mistake simply to equate “moving on” with forgiveness. It seems quite feasible to “move on” by forgetting but forgiving is certainly not the same as forgetting. A victim might possibly forget by taking drugs or possibly even more bizarrely by committing suicide! Moreover the purpose of “moving on” and forgiveness are not the same. The purpose of “moving on” and getting on with the rest of her life is solely to benefit the victim. This is not so with forgiveness. The purpose of forgiveness is to benefit both the victim and offender. For these reasons I believe if an offender, such as Polanski, fails to express any genuine remorse it is impossible for a victim, such as Geimer, to genuinely forgive him. Such a victim can of course “move on” and put the offences committed against behind her.