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PETER SINGER Famine, Affluence, and

Morality

As I write this, in November Ig7I, people are dying in East Bengal
from lack of food, shelter, and medical care. The suffering and death
that are occurring there now are not inevitable, not unavoidable in
any fatalistic sense of the term. Constant poverty, a cyclone, and a
civil war have turned at least nine million people into destitute refu-
gees; nevertheless, it is not beyond the capacity of the richer nations
to give enough assistance to reduce any further suffering to very small
proportions. The decisions and actions of human beings can prevent
this kind of suffering. Unfortunately, human beings have not made
the necessary decisions. At the individual level, people have, with very
few exceptions, not responded to the situation in any significant way.
Generally speaking, people have not given large sums to relief funds;
they have not written to their parliamentary representatives demand-
ing increased government assistance; they have not demonstrated in
the streets, held symbolic fasts, or done anything else directed toward
providing the refugees with the means to satisfy their essential needs.
At the government level, no government has given the sort of massive
aid that would enable the refugees to survive for more than a few days.
Britain, for instance, has given rather more than most countries. It
has, to date, given ?I4,750,ooo. For comparative purposes, Britain’s
share of the nonrecoverable development costs of the Anglo-French
Concorde project is already in excess of ?275,ooo,ooo, and on present
estimates will reach ?440,000,000. The implication is that the British
government values a supersonic transport more than thirty times as

230 Philosophy & Public Affairs

highly as it values the lives of the nine million refugees. Australia is

another country which, on a per capita basis, is well up in the “aid to

Bengal” table. Australia’s aid, however, amounts to less than one-

twelfth of the cost of Sydney’s new opera house. The total amount

given, from all sources, now stands at about ?65,ooo,ooo. The esti-

mated cost of keeping the refugees alive for one year is ?464,000,000.

Most of the refugees have now been in the camps for more than six

months. The World Bank has said that India needs a minimum of

?300,000,000 in assistance from other countries before the end of the

year. It seems obvious that assistance on this scale will not be forth-

coming. India will be forced to choose between letting the refugees

starve or diverting funds from her own development program, which

will mean that more of her own people will starve in the future.’

These are the essential facts about the present situation in Bengal.

So far as it concerns usi here, there is nothing unique about this situa-

tion except its magnitude. The Bengal emergency is just the latest and

most acute of a series of major emergencies in various parts of the

world, arising both from natural and from man-made causes. There

are also many parts of the world in which people die from malnutri-

tion and lack of food independent of any special emergency. I take

Bengal as my example only because it is the present concern, and

because the size of the problem has ensured that it has been given

adequate publicity. Neither individuals nor governments can claim to

be unaware of what is happening there.

What are the moral implications of a situation like this? In what

follows, I shall argue that the way people in relatively affluent coun-

tries react to a situation like that in Bengal cannot be justified; indeed,

the whole way we look at moral issues-our moral conceptual scheme

-needs to be altered, and with it, the way of life that has come to be

taken for granted in our

society.

In arguing for this conclusion I will not, of course, claim to be

morally neutral. I shall, however, try to argue for the moral position

i. There was also a third possibility: that India would go to war to enable the

refugees to return to their lands. Since I wrote this paper, India has taken this
way out. The situation is no longer that described above, but this does not affect
my argument, as the next paragraph indicates.

231 Famine, Affluence, and
Morality

that I take, so that anyone who accepts certain assumptions, to be
made explicit, will, I hope, accept my conclusion.

I begin with the assumption that suffering and death from lack of

food, shelter, and medical care are bad. I think most people will agree
about this, although one may reach the same view by different routes.
I shall not argue for this view. People can hold all sorts of eccentric
positions, and perhaps from some of them it would not follow that
death by starvation is in itself bad. It is difficult, perhaps impossible,
to refute such positions, and so for brevity I will henceforth take this
assumption as accepted. Those who disagree need read no further.

My next point is this: if it is in our power to prevent something bad
from happening, without thereby sacrificing anything of comparable
moral importance, we ought, morally, to do it. By “without sacrificing
anything of comparable moral importance” I mean without causing

anything else comparably bad to happen, or doing something that is

wrong in itself, or failing to promote some moral good, comparable in

significance to the bad thing that we can prevent. This principle
seems almost as uncontroversial as the last one. It requires us only
to prevent what is bad, and not to promote what is good, and it requires
this of us only when we can do it without sacrificing anything that is,
from the moral point of view, comparably important. I could even, as
far as the application of my argument to the Bengal emergency is

concerned, qualify the point so as to make it: if it is in our power to
prevent something very bad from happening, without thereby sacri-
ficing anything morally significant, we ought, morally, to do it. An
application of this principle would be as follows: if I am walking past
a shallow pond and see a child drowning in it, I ought to wade in and
pull the child out. This will mean getting my clothes muddy, but this
is insignificant, while the death of the child would presumably be a
very bad thing.

The uncontroversial appearance of the principle just stated is decep-
tive. If it were acted upon, even in its qualified form, our lives, our
society, and our world would be fundamentally changed. For the prin-
ciple takes, firstly, no account of proximity or distance. It makes no
moral difference whether the person I can help is a neighbor’s child

232 Philosophy & Public Affairs

ten yards from me or a Bengali whose name I shall never know, ten

thousand miles away. Secondly, the principle makes no distinction

between cases in which I am the only person who could possibly do

anything and cases in which I am just one among millions in the

same position.

I do not think I need to say much in defense of the refusal to take

proximity and distance into account. The fact that a person is physi-

cally near to us, so that we have personal contact with him, may make

it more likely that we shall assist him, but this does not show that we

ought to help him rather than another who happens to be further

away. If we accept any principle of impartiality, universalizability,

equality, or whatever, we cannot discriminate against someone merely

because he is far away from us (or we are far away from him).

Admittedly, it is possible that we are in a better position to judge what

needs to be done to help a person near to us than one far away, and

perhaps also to provide the assistance we judge to be necessary. If

this were the case, it would be a reason for helping those near to us

first. This may once have been a justification for being more concerned

with the poor in one’s own town than with famine victims in India.

Unfortunately for those who- like to keep their moral responsibilities

limited, instant communication and swift transportation have changed

the situation. From the moral point of view, the development of the

world into a “global village” has made an important, though still unrec-

ognized, difference to our moral situation. Expert observers and super-

visors, sent out by famine relief organizations or permanently sta-

tioned in famine-prone areas, can direct our aid to a refugee in Bengal

almost as effectively as we could get it to someone in our own block.

There would seem, therefore, to be no possible justification for dis-

criminating on geographical grounds.

There may be a greater need to defend the second implication of

my principle-that the fact that there are millions of other people in

the same position, in respect to the Bengali refugees, as I am, does

not make the situation significantly different from a situation in which

I am the only person who can prevent something very bad from occur-

ring. Again, of course, I admit that there is a psychological difference

between the cases; one feels less guilty about doing nothing if one can

233 Famine, Affluence, and

Morality

point to others, similarly placed, who have also done nothing. Yet this

can make no real difference to our moral obligations.2 Should I con-

sider that I am less obliged to pull the drowning child out of the pond

if on looking around I see other people, no further away than I am,

who have also noticed the child but are doing nothing? One has only

to ask this question to see the absurdity of the view that numbers

lessen obligation. It is a view that is an ideal excuse for inactivity;

unfortunately most of the major evils-poverty, overpopulation, pollu-

tion-are problems in which everyone is almost equally involved.

The view that numbers do make a difference can be made plausible

if stated in this way: if everyone in circumstances like mine gave ?5

to the Bengal Relief Fund, there would be enough to provide food,

shelter, and medical care for the refugees; there is no reason why I

should give more than anyone else in the same circumstances as I

am; therefore I have no obligation to give more than ?5. Each premise

in this argument is true, and the argument looks sound. It may con-

vince us, unless we notice that it is based on a hypothetical premise,

although the conclusion is not stated hypothetically. The argument

would be sound if the conclusion were: if everyone in circumstances

like mine were to give ?5, I would have no obligation to give more than

?5. If the conclusion were so stated, however, it would be obvious that

the argument has no bearing on a situation in which it is not the case

that everyone else gives ?5. This, of course, is the actual situation. It

is more or less certain that not everyone in circumstances like mine

will give Q5. So there will not be enough to provide the needed food,

shelter, and medical care. Therefore by giving more than ?5 I will

prevent more suffering than I would if I gave just ?5.
It might be thought that this argument has an absurd consequence.

Since the situation appears to be that very few people are likely to give

2. In view of the special sense philosophers often give to the term, I should
say that I use “obligation” simply as the abstract noun derived from “ought,” so
that “I have an obligation to” means no more, and no less, than “I ought to.”
This usage is in accordance with the definition of “ought” given by the Shorter
Oxford English Dictionary: “the general verb to express duty or obligation.” I do
not think any issue of substance hangs on the way the term is used; sentences
in which I use “obligation” could all be rewritten, although somewhat clumsily,
as sentences in which a clause containing “ought” replaces the term “obligation.”

234 Philosophy & Public Affairs

substantial amounts, it follows that I and everyone else in similar

circumstances ought to give as much as possible, that is, at least up

to the point at which by giving more one would begin to cause serious

suffering for oneself and one’s dependents-perhaps even beyond this

point to the point of marginal utility, at which by giving more one

would cause oneself and one’s dependents as much suffering as one

would prevent in Bengal. If everyone does this, however, there will be

more than can be used for the benefit of the refugees, and some of the

sacrifice will have been unnecessary. Thus, if everyone does what he

ought to do, the result will not be as good as it would be if everyone

did a little less than he ought to do, or if only some do all that they

ought to do.

The paradox here arises only if we assume that the actions in ques-

tion-sending money to the relief funds-are performed more or less

simultaneously, and are also unexpected. For if it is to be expected

that everyone is going to contribute something, then clearly each is

not obliged to give as much as he would have been obliged to had

others not been giving too. And if everyone is not acting more or less

simultaneously, then those giving later will know how much more is

needed, and will have no obligation to give more than is necessary to

reach this amount. To say this is not to deny the principle that people

in the same circumstances have the same obligations, but to point out

that the fact that others have given, or may be expected to give, is a

relevant circumstance: those giving after it has become known that

many others are giving and those giving before are not in the same

circumstances. So the seemingly absurd consequence of the principle

I have put forward can occur only if people are in error about the

actual circumstances-that is, if they think they are giving when others

are not, but in fact they are giving when others are. The result of

everyone doing what he really ought to do cannot be worse than the

result of everyone doing less than he ought to do, although the result

of everyone doing what he reasonably believes he ought to do could be.

If my argument so far has been sound, neither our distance from a

preventable evil nor the number of other people who, in respect to

that evil, are in the same situation as we are, lessens our obligation

to mitigate or prevent that evil. I shall therefore take as established

the principle I asserted earlier. As I have already said, I need to assert

235 Famine, Affluence, and

Morality

it only in its qualified form: if it is in our power to prevent something

very bad from happening, without thereby sacrificing anything else

morally significant, we ought, morally, to do it.

The outcome of this argument is that our traditional moral cate-

gories are upset. The traditional distinction between duty and charity

cannot be drawn, or at least, not in the place we normally draw it.

Giving money to the Bengal Relief Fund is regarded as an act of char-

ity in our society. The bodies which collect money are known as “cchari-

ties.” These organizations see themselves in this way-if you send them

a check, you will be thanked for your “generosity.” Because giving

money is regarded as an act of charity, it is not thought that there is

anything wrong with not giving. The charitable man may be praised,

but the man who is not charitable is not condemned. People do not
feel in any way ashamed or guilty about spending money on new

clothes or a new car instead of giving it to famine relief. (Indeed, the

alternative does not occur to them.) This way of looking at the matter

cannot be justified. When we buy new clothes not to keep ourselves

warm but to look “well-dressed” we are not providing for any impor-
tant need. We would not be sacrificing anything significant if we were

to continue to wear our old clothes, and give the money to famine

relief. By doing so, we would be preventing another person from starv-

ing. It follows from what I have said earlier that we ought to give

money away, rather than spend it on clothes which we do not need

to keep us warm. To do so is not charitable, or generous. Nor is it the

kind of act which philosophers and theologians have called “super-

erogatory”-an act which it would be good to do, but not wrong not to

do. On the contrary, we ought to give the money away, and it is wrong

not to do so.

I am not maintaining that there are no acts which are charitable,

or that there are no acts which it would be good to do but not wrong

not to do. It may be possible to redraw the distinction between duty
and charity in some other place. All I am arguing here is that the pres-

ent way of drawing the distinction, which makes it an act of charity
for a man living at the level of affluence which most people in the

“developed nations” enjoy to give money to save someone else from

starvation, cannot be supported. It is beyond the scope of my argu-

ment to consider whether the distinction should be redrawn or abol-

236 Philosophy & Public Affairs

ished altogether. There would be many other possible ways of drawing

the distinction-for instance, one might decide that it is good to make

other people as happy as possible, but not wrong not to do so.

Despite the limited nature of the revision in our moral conceptual

scheme which I am proposing, the revision would, given the extent of

both affluence and famine in the world today, have radical implica-

tions. These implications may lead to further objections, distinct from

those I have already considered. I shall discuss two of these.

One objection to the position I have taken might be simply that it is

too drastic a revision of our moral scheme. People do not ordinarily

judge in the way I have suggested they should. Most people reserve

their moral condemnation for those who violate some moral norm,

such as the norm against taking another person’s property. They do

not condemn those who indulge in luxury instead of giving to famine

relief. But given that I did not set out to present a morally neutral

description of the way people make moral judgments, the way people

do in fact judge has nothing to do with the validity of my conclusion.

My conclusion follows from the principle which I advanced earlier,

and unless that principle is rejected, or the arguments shown to be

unsound, I think the conclusion must stand, however strange it

appears.

It might, nevertheless, be interesting to consider why our society,

and most other societies, do judge differently from the way I have sug-

gested they should. In a well-known article, J. 0. Urmson suggests

that the imperatives of duty, which tell us what we must do, as dis-

tinct from what it would be good to do but not wrong not to do, func-

tion so as to prohibit behavior that is intolerable if men are to live

together in society.3 This may explain the origin and continued exist-

ence of the present division between acts of duty and acts of charity.

Moral attitudes are shaped by the needs of society, and no doubt

society needs people who will observe the rules that make social exist-

ence tolerable. From the point of view of a particular society, it is

3. J. 0. Urmson, “Saints and Heroes,” in Essays in Moral Philosophy, ed.
Abraham I. Melden (Seattle and London, 1958), p. 214. For a related but
significantly different view see also Henry Sidgwick, The Methods of Ethics,
7th edn. (London, 1907), pp. 220-221, 492-493.

237 Famine, Affluence, and

Morality

essential to prevent violations of norms against killing, stealing, and

so on. It is quite inessential, however, to help people outside one’s own

society.

If this is an explanation of our common distinction between duty

and supererogation, however, it is not a justification of it. The moral

point of view requires us to look beyond the interests of our own soci-

ety. Previously, as I have already mentioned, this may hardly have

been feasible, but it is quite feasible now. From the moral point of

view, the prevention of the starvation of millions of people outside our

society must be considered at least as pressing as the upholding of

property norms within our society.

It has been argued by some writers, among them Sidgwick and

Urmson, that we need to have a basic moral code which is not too far

beyond the capacities of the ordinary man, for otherwise there will be

a general breakdown of compliance with the moral code. Crudely

stated, this argument suggests that if we tell people that they ought

to refrain from murder and give everything they do not really need

to famine relief, they will do neither, whereas if we tell them that they

ought to refrain from murder and that it is good to give to famine

relief but not wrong not to do, so, they will at least refrain from mur-

der. The issue here is: Where should we drawn the line between con-

duct that is required and conduct that is good although not required,

so as to get the best possible result? This would seem to be an empiri-

cal question, although a very difficult one. One objection to the Sidg-

wick-Urmson line of argument is that it takes insufficient account of

the effect that moral standards can have on the decisions we make.

Given a society in which a wealthy man who gives five percent of his

income to famine relief is regarded as most generous, it is not surpris-

ing that a proposal that we all ought to give away half our incomes

will be thought to be absurdly unrealistic. In a society which held

that no man should have more than enough while others have less

than they need, such a proposal might seem narrow-minded. What it

is possible for a man to do and what he is likely to do are both, I think,

very greatly influenced by what people around him are doing and

expecting him to do. In any case, the possibility that by spreading the

idea that we ought to be doing very much more than we are to relieve

238 Philosophy & Public Affairs

famine we shall bring about a general breakdown of moral behavior

seems remote. If the stakes are an end to widespread starvation, it is

worth the risk. Finally, it should be emphasized that these considera-

tions are relevant only to the issue of what we should require from

others, and not to what we ourselves ought to do.

The second objection to my attack on the present distinction

between duty and charity is one which has from time to time been

made against utilitarianism. It follows from some forms of utilitarian

theory that we all ought, morally, to be working full time to increase

the balance of happiness over misery. The position I have taken here

would not lead to this conclusion in all circumstances, for if there

were no bad occurrences that we could prevent without sacrificing

something of comparable moral importance, my argument would

have no application. Given the present conditions in many parts of the

world, however, it does follow from my argument that we ought, mor-

ally, to be working full time to relieve great suffering of the sort that

occurs as a result of famine or other disasters. Of course, mitigating

circumstances can be adduced-for instance, that if we wear ourselves

out through overwork, we shall be less effective than we would other-

wise have been. Nevertheless, when all considerations of this sort have

been taken into account, the conclusion remains: we ought to be

preventing as much suffering as we can without sacrificing something

else of comparable moral importance. This conclusion is one which

we may be reluctant to face. I cannot see, though, why it should be

regarded as a criticism of the position for which I have argued, rather

than a criticism of our ordinary standards of behavior. Since most peo-

ple are self-interested to some degree, very few of us are likely to do

everything that we ought to do. It would, however, hardly be honest

to take this as evidence that it is not the case that we ought to do it.

It may still be thought that my conclusions are so wildly out of line

with what everyone else thinks and has always thought that there

must be something wrong with the argument somewhere. In order to

show that my conclusions, while certainly contrary to contemporary

Western moral standards, would not have seemed so extraordinary at

other times and in other places, I would like to quote a passage from a

writer not normally thought of as a way-out radical, Thomas Aquinas.

239 Famine, Affluence, and

Morality

Now, according to the natural order instituted by divine providence,

material goods are provided for the satisfaction of human needs.

Therefore the division and appropriation of property, which pro-

ceeds from human law, must not hinder the satisfaction of man’s

necessity from such goods. Equally, whatever a man has in super-

abundance is owed, of natural right, to the poor for their suste-

nance. So Ambrosius says, and it is also to be found in the Decretum

Gratiani: “The bread which you withhold belongs to the hungry;

the clothing you shut away, to the naked; and the money you bury
in the earth is the redemption and freedom of the penniless.”4

I now want to consider a number of points, more practical than

philosophical, which are relevant to the application of the moral con-

clusion we have reached. These points challenge not the idea that we

ought to be doing all we can to prevent starvation, but the idea that

giving away a great deal of money is the best means to this end.

It is sometimes said that overseas aid should be a government

responsibility, and that therefore one ought not to give to privately
run charities. Giving privately, it is said, allows the government and

the noncontributing members of society to escape their responsibilities.
This argument seems to assume that the more people there are who

give to privately organized famine relief funds, the less likely it is that

the government will take over full responsibility for such aid. This

assumption is unsupported, and does not strike me as at all plausible.

The opposite view-that if no one gives voluntarily, a government will

assume that its citizens are uninterested in famine relief and would

not wish to be forced into giving aid-seems more plausible. In any

case, unless there were a definite probability that by refusing to give
one would be helping to bring about massive government assistance,

people who do refuse to make voluntary contributions are refusing to

prevent a certain amount of suffering without being able to point to

any tangible beneficial consequence of their refusal. So the onus of

showing how their refusal will bring about government action is on

those who refuse to give.

4. Summa Theologica, II-II, Question 66, Article 7, in Aquinas, Selected Politi-
cal Writings, ed. A. P. d’Entreves, trans. J. G. Dawson (Oxford, 1948), p. 171.

240 Philosophy & Public Affairs

I do not, of course, want to dispute the contention that governments

of affluent nations should be giving many times the amount of genu-

ine, no-strings-attached aid that they are giving now. I agree, too, that

giving privately is not enough, and that we ought to be campaigning

actively for entirely new standards for both public and private con-

tributions to famine relief. Indeed, I would sympathize with someone

who thought that campaigning was more important than giving one-

self, although I doubt whether preaching what one does not practice

would be very effective. Unfortunately, for many people the idea that

“it’s the government’s responsibility” is a reason for not giving which

does not appear to entail any political action either.

Another, more serious reason for not giving to famine relief funds

is that until there is effective population control, relieving famine

merely postpones starvation. If we save the Bengal refugees now, oth-

ers, perhaps the children of these refugees, will face starvation in a

few years’ time. In support of this, one may cite the now well-known

facts about the population explosion and the relatively limited scope

for expanded production.

This point, like the previous one, is an argument against relieving

suffering that is happening now, because of a belief about what might

happen in the future; it is unlike the previous point in that very good

evidence can be adduced in support of this belief about the future. I

will not go into the evidence here. I accept that the earth cannot sup-

port indefinitely a population rising at the present rate. This certainly

poses a problem for anyone who thinks it important to prevent famine.

Again, however, one could accept the argument without drawing the

conclusion that it absolves one from any obligation to do anything to

prevent famine. The conclusion that should be drawn is that the best

means of preventing famine, in the long run, is population control.

It would then follow from the position reached earlier that one ought

to be doing all one can to promote population control (unless one held

that all forms of population control were wrong in themselves, or

would have significantly bad consequences). Since there are organiza-

tions working specifically for population control, one would then sup-

port them rather than more orthodox methods of preventing famine.

A third point raised by the conclusion reached earlier relates to the

question of just how much we all ought to be giving away. One pos-

241 Famine, Affluence, and

Morality

sibility, which has already been mentioned, is that we ought to give

until we reach the level of marginal utility-that is, the level at which,

by giving more, I would cause as much suffering to myself or my

dependents as I would relieve by my gift. This would mean, of course,

that one would reduce oneself to very near the material circumstances

of a Bengali refugee. It will be recalled that earlier I put forward both

a strong and a moderate version of the principle of preventing bad

occurrences. The strong version, which required us to prevent bad

things from happening unless in doing so we would be sacrificing

something of comparable moral significance, does seem to require

reducing ourselves to the level of marginal utility. I should also say

that the strong version seems to me to be the correct one. I proposed

the more moderate version-that we should prevent bad occurrences

unless, to do so, we had to sacrifice something morally significant-

only in order to show that even on this surely undeniable principle a

great change in our way of life is required. On the more moderate

principle, it may not follow that we ought to reduce ourselves to the

level of marginal utility, for one might hold that to reduce oneself and

one’s family to this level is to cause something significantly bad to

happen. Whether this is so I shall not discuss, since, as I have said,

I can see no good reason for holding the moderate version of the prin-

ciple rather than the strong version. Even if we accepted the principle

only in its moderate form, however, it should be clear that we would

have to give away enough to ensure that the consumer society,

dependent as it is on people spending on trivia rather than giving to

famine relief, would slow down and perhaps disappear entirely. There

are several reasons why this would be desirable in itself. The value

and necessity of economic growth are now being questioned not only

by conservationists, but by economists as well.5 There is no doubt, too,

that the consumer society has had a distorting effect on the goals and

purposes of its members. Yet looking at the matter purely from the

point of view of overseas aid, there must be a limit to the extent to

which we should deliberately slow down our economy; for it might be

the case that if we gave away, say, forty percent of our Gross National

Product, we would slow down the economy so much that in absolute

5. See, for instance, John Kenneth Galbraith, The New Industrial State (Bos-

ton, I967); and E. J. Mishan, The Costs of Economic Growth (London, I967).

242 Philosophy & Public Affairs

terms we would be giving less than if we gave twenty-five percent of

the much larger GNP that we would have if we limited our contribu-

tion to this smaller percentage.

I mention this only as an indication of the sort of factor that one

would have to take into account in working out an ideal. Since West-

ern societies generally consider one percent of the GNP an acceptable

level for overseas aid, the matter is entirely academic. Nor does it

affect the question of how much an individual should give in a society

in which very few are giving substantial amounts.

It is sometimes said, though less often now than it used to be, that

philosophers have no special role to play in public affairs, since most

public issues depend primarily on an assessment of facts. On questions

of fact, it is said, philosophers as such have no special expertise, and

so it has been possible to engage in philosophy without committing

oneself to any position on major public issues. No doubt there are

some issues of social policy and foreign policy about which it can truly

be said that a really expert assessment of the facts is required before

taking sides or acting, but the issue of famine is surely not one of

these. The facts about the existence of suffering are beyond dispute.

Nor, I think, is it disputed that we can do something about it, either

through orthodox methods of famine relief or through population con-

trol or both. This is therefore an issue on which philosophers are com-

petent to take a position. The issue is one which faces everyone who

has more money than he needs to support himself and his dependents,

or who is in a position to take some sort of political action. These cate-

gories must include practically every teacher and student of philoso-

phy in the universities of the Western world. If philosophy is to deal

with matters that are relevant to both teachers and students, this is an

issue that philosophers should discuss.

Discussion, though, is not enough. What is the point of relating

philosophy to public (and personal) affairs if we do not take our con-

clusions seriously? In this instance, taking our conclusion seriously

means acting upon it. The philos-opher will not find it any easier than

anyone else to alter his attitudes and way of life to the extent that, if

I am right, is involved in doing everything that we ought to be doing.

243 Famine, Affluence, and

Morality

At the very least, though, one can make a start. The philosopher who

does so will have to sacrifice some of the benefits of the consumer

society, but he can find compensation in the satisfaction of a way of

life in which theory and practice, if not yet in harmony, are at least

coming together.

• Article Contents

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• Issue Table of Contents

The German Quarterly, Vol. 62, No. 2, Theme: Germanistik as German Studies Interdisciplinary Theories and Methods (Spring, 1989), pp. 139-288+i-xxvi
Front Matter [pp.227-228]
Famine, Affluence, and Morality [pp.229-243]
The Marxian Critique of Justice [pp.244-282]
Liberalism and Disobedience [pp.283-314]
Between Obedience and Revolution [pp.315-334]
Thomson on Abortion [pp.335-340]
Back Matter