The erosion of public trust
Christian Porter’s decision to accept an anonymous donation of one million dollars to help cover his personal legal costs has not merely raised questions about his personal judgement.
It has, once again, exposed larger issues about the extent to which some of our government ministers understand the demands of political leadership in a democracy.
To be clear, I do not see anything wrong, in general, with a person accepting financial support to cover the costs of litigation. Nor is there anything problematic about offering such support. There is not even a problem, in general, with such support being anonymous. So, if Mr. Porter were just an ‘ordinary citizen’, there would be little to discuss.
The controversy is solely related to the fact that Mr. Porter is a Member of Parliament and was a cabinet minister in the Federal Government led by Prime Minister Scott Morrison – a position that Porter freely chose to accept, presumably with knowledge of all that it requires. The fact that Mr. Porter resigned from the Ministry allays one source of concern. However, the issues at the heart of this controversy extend well beyond the treasury benches to encompass all serving MPs.
In fact, Mr. Porter’s case raises important issues of principle; namely, whether or not politicians (of all political persuasions) should be allowed, in our democracy, to receive substantial amounts of money by way of anonymous donations. In this, the acid test is not what is convenient (or not) for politicians and their supporters. Rather, the only consideration should be in relation to what supports, or undermines, the quality of our democracy.
Now, it could turn out to be the case that Mr. Porter has not broken any formal rules. Whether or not this is the case will be determined in due course. Yet, to think that this is simply a matter of compliance is, I believe, to miss the point. We are living through a time when the exemplary power of leadership is a potent force for both good and ill. And some of our politicians just don’t seem to understand this!
Ideally, I would prefer to cite examples from across the political spectrum. I am sure that they exist. Unfortunately, the spotlight tends to fall on those in power. So, when a government minister doles out public funds for a private political purpose it has a chilling effect on public trust in those who govern, even if what was done is technically within the rules. Then we have the case of Christian Porter – which, as noted above, seems to offer evidence of either ignorance of, or indifference to, basic standards of good governance.
We might all genuinely sympathise with the desire of a dad to be with his children on Father’s Day. However, when the Prime Minister takes advantage of an opportunity not available to hundreds and thousands of their fellow-citizens, it leaves the impression that there is one rule for the powerful and another for the rest of us.
As noted above, the issue I am concerned about does not concern compliance with the rules. It’s not that such questions are unimportant. It’s just not the focus of this article. Rather, I am worried about the effects of a continuing erosion of trust in our government. Some people might think this to be a trivial matter. Perhaps it is when nothing much is at stake. However, those are not the times in which we are living.
The COVID19 pandemic has been the most significant threat to Australia in the past 50 years. Furthermore, the response to that threat has largely lain in the hands of the community as a whole. Governments can lead, they can put in place policies and procedures, they can supply critical resources like vaccines and safe quarantine facilities. Yet, none of that will be to good effect unless ordinary Australians accept the costs of lockdowns, wear masks, remain socially distant, be vaccinated, etc. This requires the public to look beyond self-interest. The community as a whole has to have a concern for the general welfare of society. Most importantly, we need to be able to trust the judgement and advice of those who govern.
At least in part, this depends on us believing that our political leaders are in this with us; that we are ‘all in the same boat’.
Also, we need to believe that our politicians will act solely in the public interest and that if, for some reason, they do not, then they will be held to account with at least the same degree of rigour that applies to the rest of us.
Leaders should not wait until a time of crisis to demonstrate their integrity. Every decision – including those that do not ‘seem to matter’ – builds (or undermines) the ethical capital upon which politicians must draw at times such as these. That is, the character of political leadership is established in fine detail over time. Mere compliance with the rules is the bare minimum – nothing more. The real ‘weight’ lies in countless acts of discretion not merely in terms of substance but equally in terms of their symbolic significance.
We should all realise that this imposes an extraordinary burden on our politicians. Their public service requires more of them than we demand of ourselves. However sympathetic we might be to their plight, that is the price that must be paid by those who choose to govern. Alas, this is the lesson that a number of our political leaders seem not to have learned.
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BY Simon Longstaff
After studying law in Sydney and teaching in Tasmania, Simon pursued postgraduate studies in philosophy as a Member of Magdalene College, Cambridge. In 1991, Simon commenced his work as the first Executive Director of The Ethics Centre. In 2013, he was made an officer of the Order of Australia (AO) for “distinguished service to the community through the promotion of ethical standards in governance and business, to improving corporate responsibility, and to philosophy.”
BY The Ethics Centre
The Ethics Centre is a not-for-profit organisation developing innovative programs, services and experiences, designed to bring ethics to the centre of professional and personal life.
The rights of children
Camilla Nelson and Catherine Lumby’s new book Broken is a “devastating account of how Australia’s family courts fail children, families and victims of domestic abuse”. In light of Parliament’s recent decision to merge the Family Court and Federal Circuit Court, they wrote about the legal and ethical imbalance in recognising children’s rights.
“Alex” was 15 years old when her parents went to court. By then, her childhood memories included a recollection of her father “holding a knife to [her mother’s] throat”, and a series of violent altercations that resulted in her mother being taken to hospital with her face “swollen, bleeding and bruised”.
In court, the judge accepted that Alex was thoughtful, articulate and mature beyond her years. He acknowledged that Alex’s “post-traumatic stress symptoms” – including “anxiety”, “panic attacks” and “hypervigilance” – became “elevated” whenever her father was near. He even stated he was “satisfied” that Alex’s wish to have no contact with her father was “genuine”. But the court still forced Alex into child-inclusive mediation with her father followed by a defended trial – because her father wanted it; and the law apparently required it.
Although in Alex’s case, the judge eventually decided that forcing Alex into a relationship with an alleged perpetrator of harm was not in Alex’s “best interest”, this case illustrates the extraordinary asymmetry in a law that states “children have the right to know and be cared for by both their parents” but does not allow mature children – like Alex – the right to rationally and reasonably refuse this relationship when a parent is abusive and violent.
A glaring contradiction
Alex’s case – and others like it – draws attention to the glaring contradiction at the centre of family law that leads to poor decision-making and dangerously spiralling litigation. These are the so called “primary considerations” in the child’s best interest factors set out in Part VII of the Family Law Act – which, at worst, pits the child’s safety against their parents’ desires, or, at best, assumes a child’s interests will be identical with that of their parents, when this is simply not the case.
Perhaps because family law constructs itself as a contest between separating parents, it lags behind other legal jurisdictions in the recognition it gives to children’s rights. In legal matters outside the family courts, parental authority is broadly understood to diminish as a child’s capacity to make decisions for themselves develops. This is most obviously recognised in the right of a mature child to access medical treatment, regardless of their parents’ views. More starkly, the age of criminal liability in Australia is ten – far too young, according to experts and advocates – and the age of criminal responsibility is 14. In this context, it seems wildly incongruous for the family courts to conclude that a mature minor – such as Alex – is incapable of making age-appropriate decisions about where they will live and who they will see.
When Gough Whitlam and Lionel Murphy drew up the Family Law Act – this was not the case. Back in the 1970s mature minors like Alex were given more – not less – rights under Australian Family Law. In the Act as it was drafted in 1975, section 64(1)(b) stated: “where the child has attained the age of 14 years, the court shall not make an order under this Part contrary to the wishes of the child unless the court is satisfied that, by reason of special circumstances, it is necessary to do so”. Until 1983, children over 14 were all but entitled to make their own decisions under the law.
Even after the rights of adolescents were curtailed by an increasingly conservative parliament and judiciary, legal professionals were still inclined to allow teenagers to “vote with their feet” – as family lawyer’s like to phrase it – when it came to making age-appropriate decisions about their lives, unless, of course, their preferences exposed them to serious harm. Then in 2006, “children’s wishes” – renamed “views” – were dropped down the list of things judges needed to consider when making decisions about a child’s life and placed in the “additional considerations” category, where they have remained ever since. Since then, the government has rejected the recommendations of the Australian Law Reform Commission to rewrite Part VII of the Family Law Act to better recognise children’s rights. In the recent Joint Select Inquiry into Australia’s Family Law System children were not even named among the “Parties to Proceedings” that the Joint Select Committee thought appropriate to consult.
Understanding how and why children are silenced, disbelieved or ignored in society matters when considering the decisions of the family court. Cultural attitudes to children profoundly shape the way they are understood by and in the justice system. The belief that judges stand outside society and politics – or, indeed, “above” it – is a fiction. In the family courts, the opposite is true. Over the course of the last half century, the family courts have functioned as a primary forum for a series of highly charged political debates about the institution of the family, and the role that children, women and men play in maintaining or disrupting it. In recent years, debate has been driven by a minority of men’s right’s activists intent on placing their own “rights” and interests above children’s concerns – oblivious to the fact that parenting is not a “right” but a moral responsibility.
Wrong questions
What the family law lacks is a positive ethical framework with which to think about the rights of children. Instead, the ethical norms associated with family law flow from paternalistic ideas about the “vulnerable child”, with “inadequate cognitions” and “erroneous opinions about the world”. In the name of the child’s “best interests” the law steps in to negotiate the competing claims of parents. This occurs in forums in which children’s voices are largely absent, in which children are not permitted to participate, or – if permitted – are not adequately supported to do so. This is not to argue that children who are subject to family law proceedings are not vulnerable, or do not need care and protection – clearly, they do. It is simply to point out that in the absence of a positive ethics or a robust conception of children’s rights, the child’s “best interest” principle merely operates as a proxy for the interests of others, while the ethical norms of “protection” function to conceal the real power relationships that are at stake.
Essentially, the law asks the wrong questions of the separating family. Parenting does not revolve around questions of what is notionally “fair” or “equal” or “neutral” or “impartial” – the sorts of abstract and allegedly androcentric systems of rational analysis in which judges are trained and which have historically underpinned everything from criminal to corporate and property law, and which are echoed in men’s rights activists’ angry demands for their 50 per cent “shares” in a child. Instead, the question that ought to be asked is how can society best meet this particular child’s needs. What a child needs first is recognition – and once children become fully visible in the law, then their other needs will quickly become clear, such as safety, flexibility, a chance to grow, and at least one place filled with nurture and love that is called home.
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BY The Ethics Centre
The Ethics Centre is a not-for-profit organisation developing innovative programs, services and experiences, designed to bring ethics to the centre of professional and personal life.
Ethics of making money from JobKeeper
Making money from JobKeeper is not just profit maximisation. It’s free-riding.
When the Federal Treasurer announced JobKeeper in March 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic was expected to wreak economic havoc across Australia. Thousands of businesses would go bust. Millions of people would be unemployed. Billions in economic output would be lost. The Australian Government declared the (then) $130bn scheme would maintain “the connection between the employer and the employee” by making cash payments to eligible companies (those anticipating, through self-assessment, at least a 30% fall in revenue) for each employee kept on the books. Australia was bracing for economic ‘Armageddon’ and JobKeeper seemed rational and just.
Economic ‘Armageddon’ never arrived, yet billions in Jobkeeper were paid. And instead of payments going only to businesses in need, JobKeeper was paid to businesses for which coronavirus has been a boon. Shareholders and managers have profited from a scheme which the Business Council of Australia described as “fair and common-sense”, and which now appears to be neither of the two.
But in profiting from JobKeeper, have businesses done anything wrong?
Some people continue to argue that companies are obliged to maximise shareholder profit because they have a principal-agent duty to shareholders to do so (the shareholder primacy theory). But even so, there are constraints on what is allowed to be done by a company seeking to maximise profit. Nearly everyone agrees that companies should not break the law. It is not acceptable when a restaurant replaces mincemeat with sawdust in order to reduce costs. It is not permissible when a technology company increases revenue by spying on users. Beyond the law, however, most people also agree that companies have moral obligations to society.
Beyond the law, however, most people also agree that companies have moral obligations to society.
Even the individual most closely associated with ‘shareholder primacy’, Milton Friedman, argued profit-maximising companies should not only obey the law, but also must act in line with society’s ethical norms:
“There is one and only one social responsibility of business – to use its resources and engage in activities designed to increase its profits as long as it stays within the rules of the game, which is to say, engages in free and open competition without deception or fraud…conforming to the basic rules of society, both embodied in law and those embodied in ethical custom.”
As Friedman argues, these obligations should act as constraints on a company’s profit maximising motive. A company that orders an employee to drive past an accident on a remote freeway because rendering assistance doesn’t maximise profit, certainly fails our basic moral intuitions of what is acceptable.
To determine whether profitable companies ought to return their JobKeeper payments, we must determine whether companies have a moral obligation to do so. As the Federal Treasurer has made clear, companies have no legal obligation to return the funds. JobKeeper was intentionally designed by the Federal Government to impose minimal obligations on companies when receiving public funds – a position in stark contrast to the policy applying to individual citizens. It has been argued these minimal reciprocal obligations were essential to ensure the impediments to JobKeeper take-up were minimised.
If tax avoidance is “morally wrong”, as claimed by Gerry Harvey, so too is profiting from JobKeeper.
So, what of the moral obligation? Perhaps the best place to begin is by recognising that subsidies are simply a negative tax. So, if tax avoidance is “morally wrong”, as claimed by Gerry Harvey, so too is profiting from JobKeeper.
One way to argue the wrongness of tax avoidance (and by extension profiting from JobKeeper) is to consider Herbert Hart’s “principle of fairness”. The principle, in short, posits that those who benefit from the efforts of others have a moral obligation to reciprocate. The argument behind this principle is that when companies or individuals avoid tax, yet enjoy the public benefits provided by the State (the protections granted by the military; the law and order provided by the police and the judiciary; the well-educated citizenry; the functioning health-care system) they free-ride on the contributions of other taxpayers.
There are specific examples that illustrate this principle well. When James Hardie relocated its head office to Ireland, where the corporate tax rate is 12.5%, it is hard to see how this was making a fair contribution to Australia, where the majority of its shareholders reside. As Nick Kyrgios uses the Bahamas as his tax residence, where the personal tax rate is 0%, it is hard to see how this justly contributes to the nation which has not merely supported his career, but created the foundation for it. While donating to bushfire victims $200 per ace that he hit is meritorious, it does not offset tax avoidance because taxation is not charity. And in any case, making hundred-dollar donations is not equivalent to millions in avoided tax that did not fund the bushfire recovery.
Profiting from JobKeeper should be considered no different to tax avoidance. If companies who set up off-shore trusts to minimise their tax bill are considered free-riders on Australian society, so too should companies who unfairly profit from JobKeeper. These companies place the further profits of their shareholders ahead of alternate uses of taxpayer dollars. Ahead of more ventilators, more ICU beds and more nurses. And ahead of lower Government debt which will one day need to be repaid by the next generation of Australian taxpayers – the youth who are amongst the hardest hit by COVID lockdowns.
Personally, I find Hart’s principle of fairness has substantial force, as it seems most Australians do. But judging from the fact that many companies have refused to repay the profits they have generated from JobKeeper, it is clear that not everyone agrees. These companies and their shareholders are claiming they have a right to be held to a standard different to that which applies to everyone else in Australia. They claim they have a right to free-ride.
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BY Joshua Pearl
Joshua Pearl is the head of Energy Transition at Iberdrola Australia. Josh has previously worked in government and political and corporate advisory. Josh studied economics and finance at the University of New South Wales and philosophy and economics at the London School of Economics.
BY The Ethics Centre
The Ethics Centre is a not-for-profit organisation developing innovative programs, services and experiences, designed to bring ethics to the centre of professional and personal life.
Exercising your moral muscle
Day-to-day decisions carry more weight in the context of the pandemic.
Previously simple choices like whether or not to go to the shops are now shadowed by dire consequences, and the act of constantly weighing up those consequences can lead to ‘moral fatigue’.
“This is the kind of wearing down of a person who is constantly making ethical decisions in conditions of fundamental ambiguity,” Ethics Centre executive director Dr Simon Longstaff recently told the ABC.
“It’s the sense of the weight of your decision that can be the source of the fatigue.”
Much like physical exercise, Dr Longstaff says there are ways to exercise our moral muscle so that it becomes stronger. Our choices matter because of the cumulative effect they have, and if exercised every day, building up moral fitness can also help prevent moral injury and its effect on our mental health.
Here are four ways to exercise your moral muscle and help with decision-making:
- Build a support system of friends and family members around you who are open to the conversation. Nobody can be expected to know exactly what to do in any given situation, but having a support system of peers, friends and family to bounce ideas off and get perspective can be invaluable.
- Is there urgency to the problem? If not, setting it aside for a period of time and going for a walk can help with clarity. “Allowing a bit of time and literally going for a walk is one of the really good things you can do,” Dr Longstaff says. “It’s amazing how much just walking helps things just sort out in your own mind.”
- All muscles need time to recover, so factor in rest days to help manage mental exhaustion and take time to do something you enjoy. “Think creatively about ‘what makes me happy in life? What are the things that I really love doing, that I find relaxing?’,” researcher and psychologist Professor Jolanda Jetten told the ABC. “We know that feeling in control is a very good predictor of good health, physical and mental. People should think of ways they can encounter situations and contexts where they feel fully in control, where they don’t have to worry.”
- If all else fails, or you’re not sure who to talk to, make a booking with the Ethics Centre’s hotline Ethi-call and speak with a qualified counsellor to help shape your perspective and find a pathway that’s right for you.” A service like Ethi-call helps you become really clear about the facts of the matter,” Dr Longstaff says. “Most importantly, what it does is give you the ability to shape your perspective so you can see the problem from different angles, and in that you might open up an option that never occurred to you that resolves the situation.”
Free, independent helpline Ethi-call provides guidance and support to anyone facing a difficult ethical dilemma or decision. Book a call with a qualified counsellor here.
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BY The Ethics Centre
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Violent porn and feminism
Does pornography, especially violent pornography, contribute to gender-based violence, and if so, is censorship the answer? Or can the pornographic industry coexist with the drive towards gender equality?
We occupy a world plagued by sexual and gender-based violence. The United Nations declaration on the Elimination of Violence against Women (1993) asserts that such violence need be recognised as “a manifestation of historically unequal power relations between men and women”.
Globally in 2017, 219 women were killed each day by either a member of their own family or by their own intimate partner. Debates about the complex causes of such violence and reasons for the persistence of gender inequality remain. The role that pornography may play in both the maintenance and propagation of these harms is one of many factors considered relevant to the debate. Specifically, ethicists are needed to address the question: Could pornography and feminism be compatible bedfellows after all?
Renowned feminist philosopher Catherine Mackinnon argues that pornography “works as primitive conditioning”, meaning that its content is likely to inform the desires and subsequent actions of its viewers. Mackinnon asserts that if pornographic images are violent, this is likely to result in unwanted sexual violence being inflicted onto others by pornography’s consumers.
Contemporarily, debate and disagreement persist regarding how pornography should be managed for adult audiences.
Various philosophers and feminist theorists, such as Mackinnon, argue in favour of some form of criminal action being taken against certain types of pornography due to its capacity to harm women. In 1983, Mackinnon, alongside feminist writer and activist Andrea Dworkin, brought forward an Antipornography Civil Ordinance which proposed that pornography needs to be treated as a violation of women’s civil rights. The pair aimed to remove the freedom of speech protections pornography had been granted under United States law. The ordinance was ultimately struck down by the courts.
Debate continues as to whether pornography, particularly forms of pornography which depict explicit violence against women, can remain conducive with the feminist project of gender equality.
To this day, feminists remain largely divided over MacKinnon’s antipornography ordinance. Debate continues as to whether pornography, particularly forms of pornography which depict explicit violence against women, can remain conducive with the feminist project of gender equality.
Calls to dismantle the industry of pornography are often taken to be synonymous with feminist action. In such cases, this action is thought to be the best means of protecting women from an industry rife with exploitation. Similarly, calls to cease pornographic productions are often thought to serve the function of preserving women’s dignity by allowing them to avoid careers centred around sexual objectification.
However, demands for censorship or a general production shutdown of pornographic films are also calls to severely limit the career opportunities and subsequently the financial resources of pornographic actresses. Doing so may risk further degrading these workers’ rights. The profitability and questionable legality of the porn industry often permits it to function below industry standard, resulting in inadequate worker protections being extended to porn actors and actresses.
Stoya is a female adult entertainer who has spoken openly about a form of feminism which she worries hates both sex work and pornography. She is concerned that female sexuality is only being embraced within narrow margins, neglecting the possibility that hardcore pornography may empower women, both actresses and viewers, rather than degrade them. Stoya argues that a contemporary feminism which celebrates women’s right to work and earn an independent wage is flawed if it simultaneously rebukes women who freely choose to perform in pornography to acquire that wage. For Stoya, performing in hardcore pornography (produced under fair working conditions) does nothing to degrade the status of female performers. Rather, it stands as a celebration of a tirelessly campaigned for and emancipated female sexuality.
Denying pornographic actresses the rights and representation which permits them to carry out their work safely is an injustice to women which should be feared.
Denying pornographic actresses the rights and representation which permits them to carry out their work safely is an injustice to women which should be feared. Doing so puts these women at increased risk of assault and exploitation out of fear their allegations will not be trusted or that they will meet with legal consequences. Stoya herself brought forward rape charges against famous male pornstar James Deen, and she holds that the remedy to such injustices lies in improving workers’ rights and the legislative systems surrounding the industry of pornography, rather than in trying to shut down the industry altogether.
This lack of regulation constitutes an injustice far greater than the supposed, yet largely unarticulated, harm of women being free to use their naked bodies for profit. The mere existence of agential and passionate hardcore pornographic actresses importantly signals the beginnings of a world where women’s bodies are no longer policed in ways which unjustifiably align sex with shame and exploitation.
So long as the porn industry is made to function on par with other industry’s standards, there is no reason to consider the bodies of female pornographic actresses anymore degraded, or exploited, than non-pornographic actresses, tradespeople, or frontline healthcare workers.
Calls to censor or morally condemn pornography are often less concerned with the rights of pornographic actresses and more with the potentially negative impact pornography has on its consumers. There are concerns, for example, that viewing violent pornography may increase sexual assault rates, a causal link which is yet to be definitively established. However, even if particular depictions of women’s bodies were found to increase the likelihood that men assault women, it is not immediately apparent that the desirable solution would be to forbid those depictions.
This censorship style solution shares particular characteristics with victim blaming culture, in which victims are blamed for the actions of perpetrators. In both victim blaming and pro-censorship anti-porn positions, the onus of change is placed on those who are determined to be the cause of any given injustice. The pornographic actress, for example, is told she cannot continue to do her work, instead of alternative interventions being sought which target perpetrators who may have been inspired by viewing particular pornographic depictions. We do not think it suitable to tell women to wear more clothing to stop men raping them; why should matters of pornography be handled any differently?
There are more desirable, alternative solutions to address contemporary issues of misogyny. First is the formation and endorsement of a safe and responsible pornography industry where the agency and security of actors and actresses is guaranteed. Unfortunately there will always be room for exploitation and abuse, however, these risks can be mitigated by extending workers’ rights and fair working conditions to pornographic actors in the same way such rights are endowed to workers in other industries.
Content subscription service Onlyfans stands as a site moving the pornography industry in this direction by allowing performers greater control over their content and income. OnlyFans allows performers to safely and independently produce pornographic content. However, the platform hasn’t avoided trouble for hosting adult content: Onlyfans recently announced it would be banning explicit content in a bid to attract investors, only to reverse its decision within a week after outcry from users.
Ongoing periphery interventions are also required to address gender-based violence and gender inequality more generally, such as improved sex education curriculums which provide more comprehensive education on consent and respectful relationships to school age children.
Interventions such as bolstering the regulatory bodies surrounding pornography and improving sex-ed curriculums allows societies to place adequate accountability on those who commit or are at risk of committing acts of violence against women. These interventions should be favoured over those which risk undermining the agency of both female performers and consumers of pornography.
Pornography, even violent pornography, need not be incompatible with the feminist project of gender equality.
Pornography, even violent pornography, need not be incompatible with the feminist project of gender equality. Theorists and feminists alike need to engage in critical discourse regarding where the onus of change need be placed. The porn industry, pornographic actresses and perpetrators of violence against women are all potential targets of this change. The decisions we make regarding what actions should be taken will determine whether or not pornography is compatible with contemporary feminism.
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BY Georgia Fagan
Georgia has an academic and professional background in applied ethics, feminism and humanitarian aid. They are currently completing a Masters of Philosophy at the University of Sydney on the topic of gender equality and pragmatic feminist ethics. Georgia also holds a degree in Psychology and undertakes research on cross-cultural feminist initiatives in Bangladeshi refugee camps.
BY The Ethics Centre
The Ethics Centre is a not-for-profit organisation developing innovative programs, services and experiences, designed to bring ethics to the centre of professional and personal life.
Australia's ethical obligations in Afghanistan
After 20 years of waging war in Afghanistan, the United States and its allies (including Australia) have withdrawn from the field – leaving the Taliban back in power.
The temptation is to label this outcome a resounding defeat. But how does one judge in such matters? Perhaps the Taliban of 2021 has learned, over the past 20 years, how to be better governors of Afghanistan – at least better than they were in the period leading up to 2001; and better than the series of governments that have muddled along in the interim. Perhaps the quality of the peace that will now prevail in Afghanistan will be better than that which would have otherwise existed if no war had been fought. If so, then the loss may not be as great as first thought.
Countries like Australia will need to act on their obligation to stay the course and help the Afghan people as best as they can.
Yet, if this possibility is ever to amount to something more than a feeble dream, then those who fought war need to do more than ‘hope for the best’. Rather, countries like Australia will need to act on their obligation to stay the course and help the Afghan people as best as they can.
Some might challenge the idea that Australia is bound by any obligation to the Afghans. After all, it might be said, have we not already invested a small fortune in treasure? Have we not already sent our sons and daughters to shed blood and to die under the Afghan sun?
My answer begins with the simple truth that, for the most part, we found ourselves expending blood and treasure for our own benefit – and not, primarily, for the good of Afghanistan. Much as we might be comforted by the rhetoric of ‘noble causes’ and ‘high ideals’, when it comes to the realpolitik of statecraft, our politicians send our forces into harm’s way in service of what they plainly believe to be the national interest. As has so often been the case, we went to war to support our most important ally, the United States of America. We went to war so that we could sleep more soundly in our beds – by blunting the edge of terrorism. So, our arrival in Afghanistan (and all that followed) was not driven by an overarching desire to improve the lives of Afghans.
Of course, we also aimed to do some good – and indeed we did. Many Afghans have led better lives due to Australia’s investment in aid and development. Indeed, I have first-hand knowledge of the efforts we have gone to in helping to improve, say, the circumstances of women and girls in Afghanistan. The good we did is real. However, let’s not pretend that it was the product of altruism alone.
I have made much of the self-interest of nations because I think it is key to our understanding the ethical obligation that still binds the Australian government – despite our withdrawal.
As we know, thousands of Afghans rallied to our cause. They served as locally engaged staff in our embassy. They worked as interpreters – both in civilian and military settings. They were our partners in aid and development projects. All of these people directly enabled Australia to realise – as far as possible – its strategic objectives. They did so at considerable personal risk – openly assisting a self-declared enemy of the Taliban (and even more extreme groups like ISIS-K). This risk was exacerbated by the work they did – on our behalf – not just in areas of conflict. For example, what would a hardline opponent to women’s empowerment think of those who have worked tirelessly to achieve that outcome? Surely, those who worked to help women now have a target on their back!
It’s not just specific individuals we need to think of. Large numbers of apparently unconnected Afghans have borne the brunt of 20 years of war waged for our benefit. They were the ones maimed and killed – whether as ‘collateral damage’ or as the intended victims of fundamentalists bent on dominating and pacifying through terror.
It was shameful that our response to the growing power of the Taliban was to do ‘too little, too late’.
Given all of this, it was shameful that our response to the growing power of the Taliban was to do ‘too little, too late’. In saying this, I acknowledge that very few people predicted the speed or comprehensive nature of the Taliban victory. However, I suspect that the larger problem was that too few in government truly understood the depth of our obligation to those Afghans who have assisted us. As much as anything else, it is the sense of indifference that has led many in our armed forces to feel that we have betrayed those left behind – and to express a sense of shame on behalf of our nation.
We should have had much to celebrate. Despite the dark shadow cast by the findings of the Brereton Report, there is much to be proud of in terms of Australia’s overall contribution. That legacy is at risk of being sullied by the manner of Australia’s departure and the sense that we will do the minimum that decency requires – and then wash our hands of the whole thing, leaving our faithful collaborators to pay the price of our failure.
I mentioned before that talk of defeat may turn out to be illusory; that there is a chance that 20 years of war has led to a better future than could otherwise have been hoped for. This brings to mind an old Islamic proverb, “Trust in Allah! … but tie the camel’s leg”.
If we are to find honour, then we must not abandon our Afghan colleagues – not even now when the evacuation has been declared ‘complete’. We need to make it easy for those we left behind to secure visas. We need to ease their passage to safety. We need to continue to invest – if at all possible – in programs that improve the plight of ordinary Afghans – even while they live under Taliban rule.
That much we owe them for bearing their share of the burdens arising out of our self-interested invasion of their country.
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BY Simon Longstaff
After studying law in Sydney and teaching in Tasmania, Simon pursued postgraduate studies in philosophy as a Member of Magdalene College, Cambridge. In 1991, Simon commenced his work as the first Executive Director of The Ethics Centre. In 2013, he was made an officer of the Order of Australia (AO) for “distinguished service to the community through the promotion of ethical standards in governance and business, to improving corporate responsibility, and to philosophy.”
BY The Ethics Centre
The Ethics Centre is a not-for-profit organisation developing innovative programs, services and experiences, designed to bring ethics to the centre of professional and personal life.
Why we need land tax, explained by Monopoly
Most people know the game Monopoly. But few are aware Monopoly was inspired by political economist Henry George’s warning against a dystopic society where land, water and minerals are owned by the dominant few.
To win in Monopoly, first you buy natural resources. Then you monopolise the land. Add some houses and hotels. And finally, force your adversaries into bankruptcy. In the game, it helps to be strategic, but mainly it helps to be lucky. Lucky to arrive first. Lucky to be able to hoover up the best land. In the end, lucky to crowd out the others, making them indigent losers.
Henry George was a brilliant self-taught 19th century American political economist. An advocate for free-trade and an opponent of protectionism, George is however best known for his criticism of the monopolisation of natural resources, arguing this both inhibits economic efficiency and is manifestly unfair. To achieve natural resource equality, George argued natural resources should be taxed at the level it would cost to rent the “unimproved” land. These taxes could be used to abolish other taxes (George’s position was to abolish all taxes except land tax), help fund government expenditure, such as the military, or redistribute in equal proportion to citizens.
Georgism is not an argument for material equality in any meaningful sense. Equal natural resource ownership is consistent with large levels of inequality when it comes to income and the ownership of non-natural assets. A Georgist might argue individuals own 100% of their labour income; that the industrious builder deserves his multiple houses (but not land), cars and boats, and that these are his alone; that the tech entrepreneur deserves her billions but has no right to buy up huge swathes of land. A Georgist position is consistent with minimal state intervention across welfare, education funding and paid parental leave.
The ideas of Henry George have garnered support from various quarters. Economist Joseph Stiglitz has argued Henry George’s proposal could fund the optimal supply of local public goods. Leader of the Chicago School of Economics Milton Friedman said, “in my opinion, the least bad tax is the property tax on the unimproved value of land, the Henry George argument of many, many years ago”.
One reason why equal natural resource ownership is preferable is because the alternatives are so underwhelming.
The alternatives of the ideological left, crudely speaking, have disastrous economic consequences. Under collective ownership, government ineptly decides what is produced from natural resources, undermining individual choice and failing to respect citizens. While under common ownership, people use natural resources whenever and however they choose, destroying the environment and economy, as predicted by the tragedy of the commons.
The alternative approaches of the ideological right, again crudely speaking, have their own problems. Primacy is given to first arrivals (though curiously, this line of argument is seldom extended to First Nations people), treating citizens unequally. Like Monopoly, first arrivals win, and second arrivals lose. These arguments typically rest on the ambiguous liberal Lockean proviso that “enough, and as good, left in common for others” or the harsher libertarian Nozickian argument that non-landowners need only pass a subsistence baseline living standard (essentially, non-landowners can eat and have water). But these claims ignore that natural resources are not made by anyone. And if no one has done anything to deserve the unimproved natural resources, and citizens of a country are equal, why are they granted such unequal rights over natural resources, the literal foundation of a country?
To Henry George, every citizen has an equal moral claim to the earth and without this, there is no equality among citizens.
In Australia, we are something of a Hasbro Monopoly ‘Special Edition’. Tech billionaires and their ilk hold some hundreds of millions worth of natural resources, while the mob from Broken Hill have somewhere closer to, and more likely very near, zero. Foreign investors such as Canadian pension funds and the Chinese Government own 14% of Australian agricultural land and 11% of Australian water assets.
Overall, Australian natural resources are worth more than seven trillion dollars (about 85% of which is land, driven by city land values), equating to around $300,000 per person. However, the bottom 20% of Australian households (typically younger folk, most likely regional or outer suburban people) have an average natural resource wealth of under $20,000 (and an average net wealth of around $25,000).
Yet there are reasons to be optimistic. The ACT is 10 years into their 20-year plan to abolish stamp duty and replace this with a land tax, providing instructive “dos” and “do nots” for other jurisdictions. And the NSW Government, with a coalition of support from real estate bodies, accountants, economists and community representative bodies, has proposed a land tax which sensibly considers a gradual introduction of land tax, ensuring fairness for those who have already paid stamp duty, although the proposal insensibly considers making land tax optional.
Overtime, a NSW land tax could be used to reduce other taxes, such as payroll tax, levied by the state government, or income tax, levied by the federal government. Reducing income taxes would reverse the peculiarity of the Australian tax system that we socialise the largely privately created wealth of labour, and privatise the naturally created wealth of natural resources.
Economists boast that a land tax boosts economic productivity, stimulates investment and increases efficiency, all neat reasons for a land tax. But the overwhelming case for an Australian land tax is fairness: that Australian dirt, water, ore and air, are owned by each Australian equally. The overwhelming case for a land tax in Australia is to ensure we don’t become a game of Monopoly.
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BY Joshua Pearl
Joshua Pearl is the head of Energy Transition at Iberdrola Australia. Josh has previously worked in government and political and corporate advisory. Josh studied economics and finance at the University of New South Wales and philosophy and economics at the London School of Economics.
Meet Daniel, helping us take ethics to the next generation
At The Ethics Centre, we believe ethics is a collaboration – a conversation between diverse people trying to figure out how to act, live and make good decisions.
This means we need a range of people participating in the conversation, of all ages. Thanks to our donor, Chris Cuffe AO at Third Link Investment Managers, we are excited to share that we have recently appointed Daniel Finlay to Youth Engagement. Daniel is a graduate from the University of Sydney with a Bachelor of Arts and Science (Hons) and a Postgraduate Certificate in Publishing. He also received Class I Honours for his thesis in ethical philosophy. To welcome him on board and introduce him to you, our community, we sat down for a brief get-to-know-you chat.
Tell us, what attracted you to philosophy?
My first philosophy-related class was called Bioethics and I actually took it because I had come back from a break and couldn’t continue my psychology units until the next semester. But from the moment I left the first tutorial, I knew this was where I would end up going. The unit was practical ethics with a focus on humans and their bodies. The topics we covered ranged from black-market organ selling to sex work to people suffering from body integrity identity disorder (BIID). The BIID discussion particularly made me realise how many questions we have to face that simply don’t have neat or obvious answers. BIID is a very rare disorder where a healthy person very strongly desires to amputate one or more of their limbs. And here we were, a group of fresh-faced 19-year-olds, trying to figure out what the hell to do with that information.
That sounds like an interesting place to start. Let’s jump over to COVID and restrictions. How are you dealing with it and what do you hope we’ll be able to bring out the other side?
Honestly, I’m part of the lucky few who haven’t been too flipped around by the lockdowns. I do very much miss rock climbing and have admittedly fallen back into lazy habits without it, but on the whole I can deal with being at home very easily because that’s where I like to spend most of my time regardless.
I’m hoping that we all come out of this with a bit more patience. COVID has obviously slowed a lot of things down for a lot of people. Media content is coming out slower, packages are constantly delayed, work projects put on the back-burner. Hopefully most people come out the other side of this with the realisation that most things aren’t as urgent as they sometimes seem, and a little patience when dealing with fellow humans can go a long way.
With all that time at home, you must have developed some guilty pleasures during the pandemic. Can you share one with us?
I wish I had something quirky or funny to share but the sad reality is my guiltiest pleasure is just watching TikToks at midnight in bed instead of getting a reasonable night’s sleep.
Pretty sure that you aren’t alone there. So, what does a standard day in your life look like?
Mostly playing games, watching Netflix/YouTube and managing an online Discord community I run. At the moment, I’m researching how, when and why young people engage with ethics in their lives and offering a younger perspective on a range of projects. Whenever I find the energy, I do try to make time for reading (I’ve recently gotten back into some fantasy novels), walking, listening to podcasts, rock climbing, writing and annoying my cat, Panda.
Let’s wrap up close to home. What does ethics mean to you and why are you interested in bringing it to the attention of young people?
To me, ethics is about learning to live with ourselves in a way that is sustainable. Part of that process is learning how to question ourselves, other people, systems and structures. It’s about identifying assumptions and patterns in our beliefs and behaviours and learning to discard or modify the unfounded ones.
I’m interested in bringing it to a younger audience because I think studying ethics and critical thinking is such an important part of developing the cognitive resources needed to make significant change in the world in a responsible and empathetic way. I’ve already seen firsthand, from being a Primary Ethics teacher, the immense good that this can do, so if I can help bring these resources into the brains of passionate teenagers then I think the world will be much better off.
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BY The Ethics Centre
The Ethics Centre is a not-for-profit organisation developing innovative programs, services and experiences, designed to bring ethics to the centre of professional and personal life.
Five steps to help you through a difficult decision
When big decisions loom, it’s often easy to get stuck ruminating all the possible ways to proceed, how it might go wrong, or get confused by taking on too much external advice and input.
Of all the ways you might act, which is the best? Which of all the possibilities should you choose?
Putting ethics at the centre of your thinking can help. It offers a framework for evaluating life’s difficult decisions, which invariably involve questions about what’s good and what’s right.
These five steps can help you move toward a solution that is in alignment with your purpose, values and principles.
1. Check in with your body
Take a moment to drop into your body. Often, we rush headlong into considering without pausing to reflect on how we feel. Our emotions play a major role in our decisions – both consciously and unconsciously. Stop for a moment and pay attention to your feelings; what are they telling you about what matters most?
You may not unlock immediate clarity, and that’s ok. Just begin by recognising and labelling the emotions that arise. Often these feelings are a compass pointing you to what matters most to you.
2. Question your assumptions and identify the facts.
Often when we feel uncertain, it’s because we are lacking information that is required to make a considered decision. What do you know about the choice in front of you? Write down all the facts that you know about your options.
Now test your thinking. Is there anything you are assuming to be true that may not be? Bracket fears or other people’s opinions for a moment and just focus on what you know to b be true. Be aware of jumping to any conclusions around the circumstance, people involved or potential outcomes.
By looking at the situation more objectively, you can identify what you actually know, and what you need to know. Now ask yourself: do you have all the facts and information that you need to make an informed decision? If there are gaps, write a list of the questions you need answers to, and seek the information that you need to have more factual data to consider.
3. Consider how the options relate to your values.
It’s time to get clear on what matters most to you. That is the key to unlocking your values. Our values are like signposts, they indicate what’s most important to us. It can help to consider the situation through the lens of what you consider most ethically relevant, starting with values that matter most to you such as honesty, transparency, kindness, or integrity. Your values also reflect what you stand for, desire or seek to protect, such as financial security, freedom, creativity, family or community for example.
4. What are the lines you won’t cross?
Next, bring into consideration your principles. If values are the signposts, then principles are the guide rails that keep us on track. They apply to the pursuit of many different types of goals and help when values conflict with one another. Principles can’t be selectively applied. Once adopted, they apply to every decision.
You may value success but not lying or cheating is a solid principle to guide how you achieve success.
You might have just a handful of principles that you personally live by. Check in to make sure that the decision you make doesn’t cause you to cross any of those guide rails.
5. Decide on what matters, and why.
Unpack all of the reasons you might decide in each way and with all of the information on the table – rule out any option that moves you away from your purpose, values and principles, and ultimately, seek out the decision that best aligns with them.
Decision-making is complex at the best of times. But sometimes life can present us with a choice where there is no right option – or where both pathways are wrong. When those moments strike it can feel impossible to find a pathway forward.
You don’t have to navigate it alone. Ethi-call is a free helpline designed to provide structured support and guidance through those very difficult decisions.
Appointments are with trained ethics counsellors who take you through a series of questions that will help clarify the situation and shine a light on what is most important to you.
Make a booking at www.ethi-call.com.
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BY The Ethics Centre
The Ethics Centre is a not-for-profit organisation developing innovative programs, services and experiences, designed to bring ethics to the centre of professional and personal life.
Vaccines: compulsory or conditional?
One of the most significant ethical issues to confront the community in the current phase of the COVID-19 pandemic concerns the extent to which people should be required to achieve full vaccination.
The debate mirrors earlier discussions about where to set the balance between public safety and personal liberty. In the wake of events such as the 9/11 terrorist attack or the Bali bombing, successive governments introduced legislation to curb civil liberties that, in some cases, had been fought for centuries ago – with the shedding of much blood in the name of liberty.
However, there was scarcely a whimper of protest from conservatives at that time, or since. Former Prime Minister, Tony Abbott, spoke for many government leaders when, in February of 2015, he said that, “There is no greater responsibility – on me – on the government – than keeping you safe”.
That formula has been invoked time and time again in response to criticism from those who have questioned the erosion of civil liberties. Once again, Tony Abbott outlined the rationale for preferring public safety over personal liberty, noting that one or two people could pose a threat to the community. In the same national security statement quoted above, Mr Abbott when on to say, “But frankly, I’d rather lose a case, than lose a life.”
For the most part, the community has accepted this set of prescriptions. It is against this background that one needs to understand the approach of government to the menace posed by COVID – where lives can be threatened by the actions of just one or two individuals – including those who are free from malicious intent.
As noted above, I cannot think of single conservative commentator who took Mr Abbott (or other leaders) to task for their preference of public safety over personal liberty. Yet, many of these same commentators are lining up to condemn politicians who take an identical stance in response to the proportionately greater risk to life posed by COVID-19. In doing so, some have decided to oppose a range of government measures that they think identify as violating individual liberties – ranging from ‘lockdowns’ to vaccination.
Unhelpfully, the debate has been skewed by the failure to make a clear distinction between different types of restriction.
As far as I know, there has been no serious proposal – from government or the private sector – for ‘compulsory vaccinations’. Yet, this ‘red herring’ is causing widespread debate and a fair measure of concern.
So, how should we think about the issue of vaccinations?
It seems to me that the greatest source of confusion (and concern) lies in the failure to distinguish between three types of requirement: compulsory, optional and conditional.
Compulsory requirements are enforced – and those that contravene are subject to punishment. There are very few compulsory requirements in liberal democracies. Examples in Australia include: the requirement for children to be educated (e.g. attend school); and the requirement that adult citizens attend voting places and receive a ballot paper (whether they cast a valid vote or not is up to them). Most recently, we have had genuinely compulsory ‘lockdowns’. If you fail to abide by the rules, then you are subject to formal punishment by the state.
Optional requirements leave each person to decide whether or not to engage in the specified activity – without consequence. As such, they are generally held to be uncontroversial.
Conditional requirements are far more common. Typically, they are in the form of: ‘if … then’. For example, ‘if you wish to drive a car … then you must be licensed to do so’. Or, ‘if you wish to enter this mine … then you must wear safety equipment’. As will be evident, no person is required to drive a car or enter a mine site. To do so is a matter of choice. In this lies the principal difference between ‘conditional’ and ‘compulsory’ requirements.
I have not really heard anyone make the case for ‘compulsory’ vaccination. Rather, there are arguments being made in favour of vaccination as a ‘conditional requirement’. So, how might such a requirement be justified?
First, it is easy to justify such a requirement in order to protect the health and safety of a community or a workplace. This was the line of argument that Peter Singer attributed to John Stuart Mill, in his recent opinion piece in The Sydney Morning Herald. Second, one can also justify a conditional requirement as a precondition for being able to perform a function. Third, one can set a condition that requires a person not to render themselves either unsafe or unable to perform their role. For example, a mining company might require an employee to wear protective clothing or sunscreen. This is not solely to keep the employee safe. It also ensures that the person remains fit (physically able) to perform their role, free from injury.
The same thinking can also be extended to the idea that an employee should remain fit (physically able) to perform their role free from disease. As noted above, this conditional requirement could be seen as being directed towards the welfare of the employee. Or it could be a requirement for the benefit of the employer.
In either case, no person is compelled to work under such conditions. If they are not prepared to accept the condition, then they may choose not to work for an employer imposing such a requirement. As noted above, this is common and uncontroversial in many, many cases.
A final note: nothing here has any implications for what a person should or should not believe. For example, a person may have a ‘magical belief’ that they are protected from the risk of injury or disease, yet still be required to wear safety equipment. A person may believe that COVID-19 is a ‘hoax’ yet still have to meet the conditional requirement that they be vaccinated.
Governments, companies, etc. should not be in the business of imposing beliefs on others. They can seek to persuade – but nothing more. However, they have every right to set conditions on behaviour and then leave it to people to choose whether or not to meet the conditional requirements that have been set.
Of course, this leaves open one final possibility – that a person may be unable to meet the condition through no fault of their own. For example, some people cannot operate the pedals on a car – yet may still wish to drive. The fact that they cannot operate an unmodified vehicle is not a matter of choice (or an absence of will) – it is a physical impossibility. In such cases, society might try to develop mechanisms (e.g. modified control systems) to offset the limitations. However, this will not always be possible.
Should an employer set vaccination as a condition of employment?
The decision to undertake any kind of medical procedure is a serious one.
Normally, this would be a private matter – especially when it relates to the health of an individual. However, there are multiple precedents for setting conditional requirements of a kind that involve medical procedures, including vaccination. For example, as things stand, one cannot travel to certain countries without vaccination (yellow fever). But to what extent, if any, might the context of employment render a different ethical outcome? For example, should employers apply a ‘test of relevance’ (e.g. different requirements for people working in aged care/disability sectors than, say, for construction workers)?
Some might argue that there is room for conscientious objection – but it has always been a mark of genuine cases, of conscientious objection, that people be prepared to accept the consequences of acting in conformance with their conscience. Also, the duty is to act on a well-informed conscience. That is, one cannot claim the protections or validations of conscience when based in proven error (e.g. in the belief that vaccines do not work, that they contain micro-chips, etc.).
Thus, when it comes to balancing safety vs freedom it should be recognised that both values are of importance. However, good health is an enabler of freedom. Therefore, freedom from the risk of infection (e.g. amongst employees) should be given priority. This would allow for the establishment of ‘conditional requirements’ (such as in the case of a vaccine passport). But these requirements should be structured as the minimum necessary to secure safety. For example, if the job can be done while working from home, then that should be allowed amongst those who choose not to be vaccinated. On the other hand, if the job requires contact with others (if this is strictly necessary), then a refusal to be vaccinated would be equivalent to refusing to take an anti-doping blood test (in elite sports) or to wear safety equipment in a mine.
What questions should employers consider about vaccination?
- Does vaccination significantly reduce the risk of transmission to others? If so, does the employer have a duty to limit the risk of infection faced by its employees (as a whole), customers, etc.?
- Does COVID present a risk that an infected employee will be unable to perform their duties? If so, is the risk sufficient to justify a conditional requirement that the employee protect themselves from this harm?
- What exceptions (if any) can be made for people who are unable to meet the conditional requirement (e.g. medically unfit to be vaccinated)? To what extent can the person’s work practices be managed to take account of this limitation (e.g. special facilities, use of additional PPE, etc.) so as to balance the interests of the individual and the wider group?
Conditional requirements are an everyday occurrence. They range from clothing requirements (e.g. to enter certain places), to the possession of licences, to the need for vaccinations when travelling to certain countries overseas. Some of these requirements are established to reflect cultural preferences, or as indicators of respect for particular institutions or places or as being necessary to realise values like those of ‘safety’, ‘efficiency’, etc.
In the end, when values compete – as in the case of ‘public safety’ vs ‘personal liberty’ the best approach is to seek to make every effort to minimise the damage to one value to the greatest extent possible while realising the other. It’s an approach that I think we failed to heed when it came to our nation’s response to the threat posed by terrorism – sowing the seeds that we seem to be harvesting today.
Perhaps this time round, we can do better.
As a small beginning, I wonder if we can at least drop the reference to so-called ‘compulsory’ vaccinations and instead focus on what might count as a reasonable, conditional requirement.
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