Mar 1, 2008 —       Home About Us Meetings Reports Transcripts Background Materials Former Bioethics Commissions   Human Dignity and Bioethics: Essays Commissioned by the President's Council on Bioethics The President's Council on Bioethics Washington, D.C. March 2008 Part 5: Theories of Human Dignity Chapter 16: The Nature and Basis of Human Dignity Patrick Lee and Robert P. George Some people hold that all human beings have a special type of dignity that is the basis for (1) the obligation all of us have not to kill them, (2) the obligation to take their well-being into account when we act, and (3) even the obligation to treat them as we would have them treat us. Indeed, those who hold that all human beings possess a special type of dignity almost always also hold that human beings are equal in fundamental dignity. They maintain that there is no class of human beings to which other human beings should be subordinated when considering their interests or their well-being, and when devising laws and social policies. Other thinkers deny that all human beings have a special type of dignity. They maintain that only some human beings, because of their possession of certain characteristics in addition to their humanity (for example, an immediately exercisable capacity for self-consciousness, or for rational deliberation), have full moral worth. In this paper we defend the first of these two positions. We argue that all human beings, regardless of age, size, stage of development, or immediately exercisable capacities, have equal fundamental dignity. Let us begin by offering a few preliminary thoughts on the general concept of dignity . Dignity is not a distinct property or quality, like a body's color, or an organ's function. Although there are different types of dignity, in each case the word refers to a property or properties-different ones in different circumstances-that cause one to excel , and thus elicit or merit respect from others. Our focus will be on the dignity of a person or personal dignity. The dignity of a person is that whereby a person excels other beings, especially other animals, and merits respect or consideration from other persons. We will argue that what distinguishes human beings from other animals, what makes human beings persons rather than things , is their rational nature. Human beings are rational creatures by virtue of possessing natural capacities for conceptual thought, deliberation, and free choice, that is, the natural capacity to shape their own lives. These basic, natural capacities to reason and make free choices are possessed by every human being, even those who cannot immediately exercise them. One's existence as a person thus derives from the kind of substantial entity one is, a human being-and this is the ground for dignity in the most important sense. Because personhood is based on the kind of being one is-a substantial entity whose nature is a rational nature-one cannot lose one's fundamental personal dignity as long as one exists as a human being. There are other senses of the word "dignity." First, there is a type of dignity that varies in degree, which is the manifestation or actualization of those capacities that distinguish humans from other animals. Thus, slipping on a banana peel (being reduced for a moment to a passive object), or losing one's independence and privacy (especially as regards our basic bodily functions), detract from our dignity in this sense. However, while this dignity seems to be compromised in certain situations, it is never completely lost. Moreover, this dignity, which varies in degree, is distinct from the more basic dignity that derives from simply being a person. Second, it is important also to distinguish one's sense of dignity. Something may harm one's sense of dignity without damaging or compromising one's real dignity. People who become dependent on others often feel a certain loss of dignity. Yet their personal dignity, and even their manifestation of that dignity, may not have been harmed at all. Often one's sense of dignity can be at variance with one's real dignity. Those who are sick, and who bear their suffering in a courageous or holy manner, often inspire others even though they themselves may feel a loss of dignity. Third, a person may be treated in a way at odds with his or her personal dignity. Human beings may be enslaved, they may be killed unjustly, raped, scorned, coerced, or wrongly imprisoned. Such treatment is undignified, yet it too, like a person's low sense of dignity, does not diminish a victim's personal dignity; the slave or the murder victim are wronged precisely because they are treated in a way at odds with their genuine personal dignity. In truth, all human beings have real dignity simply because they are persons-entities with a natural capacity for thought and free choice. All human beings have this capacity, so all human beings are persons. Each human being therefore deserves to be treated by all other human beings with respect and consideration. It is precisely this truth that is at stake in the debates about killing human embryos, fetuses, and severely retarded, demented, or debilitated human beings, and in many other debates in bioethics. To explain the basis of human dignity, and how human beings inherently possess dignity, we will first explain more precisely the problem of the basis of human dignity; then we will examine proposals that deny that every human being has an intrinsic dignity that grounds full moral worth; then we will present and defend our position; finally, we will show how the feature (nature) that grounds full moral worth is possessed by human beings in all developmental stages, including the embryonic, fetal, and infant stages, and in all conditions, including severely cognitively impaired conditions (sometimes called "marginal cases"). The Problem of Moral Status The general problem regarding the ground of moral status can be expressed as follows. It seems that it is morally permissible to use some living things, to consume them, or to experiment on them for our own benefit (without their consent, or perhaps when they are unable to give or withhold consent), but that it is not morally permissible to treat other beings in this way. The question is: where do we draw the line between those two sorts of beings? By what criterion do we draw that line? Or perhaps there just is no such line, and we should always seek to preserve all beings, of whatever sort. But we must eat, we must use some entities for food and shelter, and in doing so we inevitably destroy them. When we eat we convert entities of one nature into another and thus destroy them. Moreover, no one claims that we should not try to eradicate harmful bacteria (which are forms of life). That is, we should kill harmful bacteria in order to protect ourselves and our children. And it seems clear that we must harvest wheat and rice for food, and trees for shelter. So, plainly it is permissible to kill and use some living things. Given that it is not morally permissible to kill just any type of being, it follows that a line must be drawn, a line between those entities it is morally permissible to use, consume, and destroy, and those it is not permissible to use, consume, and destroy. How can the line be drawn in a non-arbitrary way? Various criteria for where the line should be drawn have been proposed: sentience, consciousness, self-awareness, rationality, or being a moral agent (the last two come to the same thing). We will argue that the criterion is: having a rational nature, that is, having the natural capacity to reason and make free choices, a capacity it ordinarily takes months, or even years, to actualize, and which various impediments might prevent from being brought to full actualization, at least in this life. Thus, every human being has full moral worth or dignity, for every human being possesses such a rational nature. While membership in the species Homo sapiens is sufficient for full moral worth, it is not in any direct sense the criterion for moral worth. If we discovered extra-terrestrial beings of a rational nature, or if we found that some other terrestrial species did have a rational nature, then we would owe such beings full moral respect. Still, all members of the human species do have full moral worth, because all of them do have a rational nature and are moral agents, though many of them are not able immediately to exercise those basic capacities. One could also say that the criterion for full moral worth is being a person , since a person is a rational and morally responsible subject.i The other suggestions listed above, we believe, are not tenable as criteria for full moral worth, and, worse yet, often have the practical effect of leading to the denial that human beings have full moral worth, rather than simply adding other beings to the set of beings deserving full moral respect.1 Hence it is vital to explain how "being a person"-that is, being a distinct substance with the basic natural capacities for conceptual thought and free choice-is the ground for the possession of basic rights. The Capacity for Enjoyment or Suffering as a Criterion Animal welfarists argue that the criterion for moral worth is simply the ability to experience enjoyment and suffering. Peter Singer, for example, quotes Jeremy Bentham: "The question is not, Can they reason ? nor Can they talk ? but, Can they suffer?"2 Singer then presents the following argument for this position: The capacity for suffering and enjoyment is a prerequisite for having interests at all , a condition that must be satisfied before we can speak of interests in a meaningful way.. A stone does not have interests because it cannot suffer. Nothing that we can do to it could possibly make any difference to its welfare. The capacity for suffering and enjoyment is, however, not only necessary, but also sufficient for us to say that a being has interests-at an absolute minimum, an interest in not suffering.3 In short, Singer's argument is: All and only beings that have interests have moral status; but all and only beings that can (now) experience suffering or enjoyment have interests; therefore, all and only beings that can (now) experience suffering or enjoyment have moral status. The major difficulties with Singer's position all follow from the fact that his proposed criterion for moral status involves the possession of an accidental attribute that varies in degree. Both the capacity for suffering and the possession of interests are properties that different beings have in different degrees, and the interests themselves are possessed in varying degrees. As we shall show, this feature of Singer's theory leads to untenable conclusions. Although Singer has made famous the slogan, "All animals are equal," this theory actually leads to denying that all animals, including all humans, have equal moral worth or basic rights. Singer means that "all animals are equal" in the sense that all animals are due "equal consideration." Where the interests of two animals are similar in quality and magnitude, then those interests should be counted as equal when deciding what to do, both as individuals and in social policies and actions. However, as Singer himself points out, on this view, some animals can perform actions that others cannot, and thus have interests that those others do not. So the moral status of all animals is not, in fact, equal. One would not be required to extend the right to vote-or to education in reading and arithmetic-to pigs, since they are unable to perform such actions. This point leads to several problems when we attempt to compare interests. According to this view, it is the interests that matter, not the kind of being that is affected by one's actions. So, on this view, it would logically follow that if a human child had a toothache and a juvenile rat had a slightly more severe toothache, then we would be morally required to devote our resources to alleviating the rat's toothache rather than the human's. Moreover, a human newborn infant who will die shortly (and so does not appear to have long-term future interests) or a severely cognitively impaired human will be due less consideration than a more mature horse or pig, on the ground that the mature horse or pig will have richer and more developed interests. Since the horse and the pig have higher cognitive and emotional capacities (in the sense of immediately or nearly immediately exercisable capacities) than the newborn infant (that will die shortly) and the severely cognitively impaired human, and since it is the interests that directly count morally, not the beings that have those interests, the interests of the horse and the pig should (on this account) be preferred to the interests of the newborn or the severely cognitively impaired human.4 On the other hand, when we note the differences between types of interests, then Singer's position actually implies an indirect moral elitism. It is true that according to this position no individual animal is greater than another solely on the ground of its species (that is, according to its substantial nature). Still, one animal will be due more consideration-indirectly-if it has capacities for higher or more complex mental functions. As Singer puts it: "Within these limits we could still hold that, for instance, it is worse to kill a normal adult human, with a capacity for self-awareness, and the ability to plan for the future and have meaningful relations with others, than it is to kill a mouse, which presumably does not share all of these characteristics.."5 But this difference between degrees of capacity for suffering and enjoyment will also apply to individuals within each species. And so, on this view, while a human will normally have a greater capacity for suffering and enjoyment than other animals, and so will have a higher moral status (indirectly), so too, more intelligent and sophisticated human individuals will have a greater capacity for suffering and enjoyment than less intelligent and less sophisticated human individuals, and so the former will have a higher moral status than the latter. As Richard Arneson expressed this point, "For after all it is just as true that a creative genius has richer and more complex interests than those of an ordinary average Joe as it is true that a human has richer and more complex interests than a baboon."6 These difficulties are all due to the selection of a criterion of moral worth that varies in degree. If the moral status-conferring attribute varies in degree-whether it be the capacity for enjoyment or suffering, or another attribute that comes in different degrees-it will follow that some humans will possess that attribute to a lesser extent than some nonhuman animals, and so inevitably some interests of some nonhuman animals will trump the interests of some humans. Also, it will follow that some humans will possess the attribute in question to a higher degree than other humans, with the result that not all humans will be equal in fundamental moral worth, i.e., dignity . True, some philosophers bite the bullet on these results. But in our judgment this is too high a price to pay. A sound view of worth and dignity will not entail such difficulties. On such a view, the criterion for moral worth must be the possession of a property that does not itself vary in degree-it must, that is, be the possession of a nature . Being of moral worth must be grounded in an entity's existence as a substance of a certain sort (we discuss what sort in more detail below) rather than in the possession of a set of accidental or variable properties. This view explains why our moral concern is for persons, rather than for their properties. After all, when dealing with other persons it is clear that the locus of value is the persons themselves. Persons are not mere vehicles for what is intrinsically valuable: one's child, one's neighbor, or even a stranger, are not valuable only because of the valuable attributes they possess. If persons were valuable as mere vehicles for something else-some other quality that is regarded as what is really of value-then it would follow that the basic moral rule would be simply to maximize those valuable attributes. It would not be morally wrong to kill a child, no matter what age, if doing so enabled one to have two children in the future, and thus to bring it about that there were two vehicles for intrinsic value rather than one. On the contrary, we are aware that persons themselves-the substantial entities they are-are intrinsically valuable. But if that is so, then it would make sense that what distinguishes those entities that have full moral status (inherent dignity) from those that do not should be the type of substantial entity they are, rather than any accidental attributes they possess. True, it is not self-contradictory to hold that the person himself is valuable, but only in virtue of some accidental attributes he or she possesses. Still, it is more natural, and more theoretically economical, to suppose that what has full moral status, and that in virtue of which he or she has full moral status, are one and the same. Moreover, this position more closely tracks the characteristics we find in genuine care or love. Our genuine love for a person remains, or should remain, for as long as that person continues to exist, and is not dependent on his or her possessing further attributes. That is, it seems to be the nature of care or love that it be unconditional, that we continue to desire the well-being or fulfillment of one we love for as long as he or she exists. Of course, this still leaves open the question whether continuing to live is always part of a person's well-being or fulfillment; we do maintain that a person's life always is in itself a good, but that is a distinct question from the one being considered just now. We shall argue below that being a substance with a rational nature is the criterion for moral worth. But the point now is that, whatever the specific criterion is, it involves existing as a type of substance-being a certain type of thing-rather than possessing a set of accidental or variable properties. In consequence, every substance of that sort will have full moral worth, and any substance of that sort will have a higher and different type of moral worth than entities that are not of that type.7 Moreover, the argument for sentience, or the ability to experience suffering and enjoyment, as the basic criterion of moral status, supposes that only such beings have interests. However, although rocks do not seem to have interests, the same cannot be said about plants. It is not true that only beings with feelings or some level of consciousness can be reasonably considered to have interests. It is clear that living beings are fulfilled by certain conditions and damaged by others. As Paul Taylor, who defends a biocentrist view (according to which all living beings have moral worth), explains, We can think of the good of an individual nonhuman organism as consisting in the full development of its biological powers. Its good is realized to the extent that it is strong and healthy.8 One can then say that what promotes the organism's survival and flourishing is in its interest and what diminishes its chances of survival or flourishing is against its interests . Further, while it may be initially plausible to think that all animals have rights because they have interests, it is considerably less plausible to think that all living beings (which include wheat, corn, and rice, not to mention weeds and bacteria) have rights. But the interest argument would lead to that position. Finally, the arguments advanced by Singer and Taylor do not actually attempt to establish that nonhuman animals and other living things have moral rights in the full sense of the term. We think it is true of every living being, in some way, that we should not wantonly destroy or damage it.ii With sentient beings, whether their life goes well or badly for them will significantly include their pleasure, comfort, or lack of suffering. And so their flourishing includes pleasure and lack of pain (though it also includes other things such as their life and their activities). Yet it does not follow from these points that they have full basic and inherent dignity (moral worth) or rights.9 There simply is no conceptual connection between pleasure and pain (enjoyment and suffering) on the one hand, and full moral worth (including genuine rights), on the other hand.10 However, almost no one actually argues that these beings have basic dignity or full moral rights. Rather, biocentrists argue that all living things merit some consideration, but also hold that human beings are due more consideration (though not, apparently, different in kind).11 In effect, instead of actually holding that all living beings (in the case of biocentrists) or all animals (in the case of animal welfarists) have rights , they have simply denied the existence of rights in the full sense of the term.iii Instead, they hold only that all living beings (or animals or higher mammals) deserve some varying degree of respect or consideration. We agree with this point, but we also maintain that every human being is a subject of rights, that is, every human being should be treated according to the golden rule, and it is absolutely wrong intentionally to kill any innocent human being or intentionally to deprive any innocent human being of any basic, intrinsic good.iv In other words, we grant that we should take account of the flourishing of living beings, and the pleasures and pains of nonhuman animals. But we are not morally related to them in the same way that we are related to other beings who, like ourselves, have a rational nature-beings whom (out of fairness) we should treat as we would have them treat us. But one might argue for animal rights starting from our natural empathy or affection for them (though most people's natural empathy or affection, notably, does not extend to all animals, for example, to spiders or snakes). If one identifies what is to be protected and pursued with what can be felt, that is, enjoyed or suffered in some way, then one might conclude that every entity that can have pleasure or pain deserves (equal?) consideration. If the only intrinsic good were what can be enjoyed, and the only intrinsic bad were suffering, then it would not be incoherent to hold that sentience is the criterion of moral standing, that is, that every entity with sentience has (some degree of) moral standing. In other words, it seems that one can present an argument for animal rights that begins from natural feelings of empathy only by way of a hedonistic theory of value. We can think of no other arguments that begin from that natural empathy with, or affection for, other animals. But hedonism as a general theory of value is mistaken. The good is not exhausted by the experiential-the key tenet of hedonism. Real understanding of the way things are, for example, is pleasurable because it is fulfilling or perfective of us, not vice versa. The same is true of life, health, or skillful performance (one enjoys running a good race because it is a genuine accomplishment, a skillful performance, rather than vice versa). So, as Plato and Aristotle pointed out, hedonism places the cart before the horse. Our desires are not purely arbitrary: we are capable of desiring certain things while other things leave us unmoved, uninterested. So, prior to being desired, the object desired must have something about it that makes it fitting , or suitable , to being desired. What makes it fitting to us is that it would fulfill or perfect us in some way or other. Thus, what makes a thing good cannot consist in its being enjoyed, or in its satisfying desires or preferences. Rather, desires and preferences are rational only if they are in line with what is genuinely good, that is, genuinely fulfilling.v So, hedonism is mistaken. It cannot then provide support for the view that sentience (or the capacity for suffering and enjoyment) is the criterion of full moral worth. While it is wrong to damage or kill a plant wantonly, still it can be morally right to do so for a good reason. Similarly, it is wrong wantonly to damage or kill a non-rational animal, but it can be morally right to do so for a good reason.vi The Difference in Kind Between Human Beings and Other Animals Human beings are fundamentally different in kind from other animals, not just genetically but in having a rational nature (that is, a nature characterized by basic natural capacities for conceptual thought, deliberation and free choice). Human beings perform acts of understanding , or conceptual thought, and such acts are fundamentally different kinds of acts than acts of sensing, perceiving, or imaging. An act of understanding is the grasping of, or awareness of, a nature shared in common by many things. In Aristotle's memorable phrase, to understand is not just to know water (by sensing or perceiving this water), but to know what it is to be water. 12 By our senses and perceptual abilities we know the individual qualities and quantities modifying our sense organs-this color or this shape, for example. But by understanding (conceptual thought) we apprehend a nature held in common by many entities-not this or that instance of water, but what it is to be water. By contrast, the object of the sensory powers, including imagination, is always an individual, a this at a particular place and a particular time, a characteristic, such as this red, this shape, this tone, an object that is thoroughly conditioned by space and time. The contrast is evident upon examination of language. Proper names refer to individuals or groups of individuals that can be designated in a determinate time and place. Thus "Winston Churchill" is a name that refers to a determinate individual, whereas the nouns "human," "horse," "atom," and "organism" are common names. Common names do not designate determinate individuals or determinate groups of individuals (such as "those five people in the corner"). Rather, they designate classes . Thus, if we say, "Organisms are composed of cells," the word "organisms" designates the whole class of organisms, a class that extends indefinitely into the past and indefinitely into the future. All syntactical languages distinguish between proper names and common names. But a class is not an arbitrary collection of individuals. It is a collection of individuals that have something in common. There is always some feature (or set of features), some intelligible nature or accidental attribute, that is the criterion of membership for the class. Thus, the class of organisms includes all, and only those, beings that have the nature of living bodily substance . And so, to understand the class as such, and not just be able to pick out individuals belonging to that class, one must understand the nature held in common. And to understand the class as a class (as we clearly do in reasoning) one must mentally apprehend the nature or features (or set of features) held in common by the members of the class and compare this to those individual members. Thus, to understand a proposition such as, "All organisms require nutrition for survival," one must understand a nature or universal content designated by the term "organisms": the term designates the nature or feature that entities must have in them in order to belong to that class. Human beings quite obviously are aware of classes as classes. That is, they do more than assign individuals to a class based on a perceived similarity; they are aware of pluralities as holding natures or properties in common.13 For example, one can perceive, without a concept, the similarity between two square shapes or two triangular shapes, something that other animals do as well as human beings. But human beings also grasp the criterion, the universal property or nature, by which the similars are grouped together.14 There are several considerations tending to confirm this fact. First, many universal judgments require an understanding of the nature of the things belonging to a class. If I understand, for example, that every organism is mortal, because every composite living thing is mortal, this is possible only if I mentally compare the nature, organism , with the nature, composite living thing , and see that the former entails the latter. That is, my judgment that every composite living thing can be decomposed and thus die, is based on my insight into the nature of a composite living thing. I have understood that the one nature, subject to death , is entailed by the other nature, composite living being , and from that knowledge I then advert to the thought of the individuals that possess those natures. In other words, I judge that individual composite living beings must be included within the class of individuals that are subject to death, but I judge that only in virtue of my seeing that the nature, being subject to death, is necessitated by the nature, composite living being. This point is also evident from the fact that I judge that a composite living being is necessarily capable of dying.vii By the senses, one can grasp only an individual datum. Only by a distinct capacity, an intellect, only by apprehending the nature of a thing, can one grasp that a thing is necessarily thus or so.viii The capacity for conceptual thought in human beings radically distinguishes them from other animals known to us. This capacity is at the root of most of the other distinguishing features of human beings. Thus, syntactical language, art, architecture, variety in social groupings and in other customs,15 burying the dead, making tools, religion, fear of death (and elaborate defense mechanisms to ease living with that fear), wearing clothes, true courting of the opposite sex,16 free choice and morality-all of these, and more, stem from the ability to reason and understand. Conceptual thought makes all of these specific acts possible by enabling human beings to escape fundamental limitations of two sorts. First, because of the capacity for conceptual thought, human beings' actions and consciousness are not restricted to the spatio-temporal present. Their awareness and their concern go beyond what can be perceived or imagined as connected immediately with the present.17 Second, because of the capacity for conceptual thought, human beings can reflect back upon themselves and their place in reality, that is, they can attain an objective view, and they can attempt to be objective in their assessments and choices. Other animals give no evidence at all of being able to do either of these things; on the contrary, they seem thoroughly tied to the here and now, and unable to take an objective view of things as they are in themselves, or to attempt to do so.18 The capacity for conceptual thought is a capacity that human beings have in virtue of the kind of entity they are. That is, from the time they come to be, they are developing themselves toward the mature stage at which they will (unless prevented from doing so by disability or circumstances) perform such acts. Moreover, they are struc-tured-genetically, and in the non-material aspect of themselves-in such a way that they are oriented toward maturing to this stage.ix So, every human being, including human infants and unborn human beings, has this basic natural capacity for conceptual thought.x Human beings also have the basic natural capacity or potentiality to deliberate among options and make free choices, choices that are not determined by the events that preceded them, but are determined by the person making the choice in the very act of choosing. That is, for some choices, the antecedent events are not sufficient to bring it about that these choices be made in this way rather than another way. In such choices, a person could have chosen the other option, or not chosen at all, under the very same conditions. If a choice is free, then, given everything that happened to the person up to the point just prior to his choice-including everything in his environment, everything in his heredity, everything in his understanding and in his character-it was still possible for him to choose the other option, or not to choose at all. Expressed positively: he himself in the very act of choosing determines the content of his willing. Human beings are ultimate authors of their own acts of will and partial authors (together with nature and nurture) of their own character.19 How, then, does a person finally choose one course of action rather than another? The person by his own act of choosing directs his will toward this option rather than that one, and in such a way that he could, in those very same circumstances, have chosen otherwise.20 A good case can be made to support the position that human beings do make free choices.21 First, objectively, when someone deliberates about which possible action to perform, each option (very often, in any case) has in it what it takes to be a possible object of choice. When persons deliberate, and find some distinctive good in different, incompatible, possible actions, they are free, for: (a) they have the capacity to understand the distinct types of good or fulfillment found (directly or indirectly) in the different possible courses of action, and (b) they are capable of willing whatever they understand to be good (fulfilling) in some way or other.22 That is, each alternative offers a distinct type of good or benefit, and it is up to the person deliberating which type of good he will choose. For example, suppose a student chooses to go to law school rather than to medical school. When he deliberates, both options have a distinctive sort of goodness or attractiveness. Each offers some benefit the other one does not offer. So, since each alternative has some intelligible value in it (some goodness that is understood), then each alternative can be willed. And, second, while each is good to a certain extent, neither alternative (at least in many situations) is good, or better, in every respect . Here the role of conceptual thought, or intellect, becomes clear. The person deliberating is able to see, that is, to understand , that each alternative is good, but that none is best absolutely speaking, that is, according to every consideration, or in every respect. And so, neither the content of the option nor the strength of one or another desire, determines the choice. Hence there are acts of will in which one directs one's will toward this or that option without one's choosing being determined by antecedent events or causes. Human persons, then, are fundamentally distinct from other animals in that they have a nature entailing the potentialities for conceptual thought and free choice. Having a Rational Nature, or Being a Person, Is the Criterion for Full Moral Worth Neither sentience nor life itself entails that those who possess them must be respected as ends in themselves or as creatures having full moral worth. Rather, having a rational nature is the ground of full moral worth. The basis of this point can be explained, at least in part, in the following way. When one chooses an action, one chooses it for a reason, that is, for the sake of some good one thinks this action will help to realize. That good may itself be a way of realizing some further good, and that good a means to another, and so on. But the chain of instrumental goods cannot be infinite. So, there must be some ultimate reasons for one's choices, some goods that one recognizes as reasons for choosing that need no further support, that are not mere means to some further good. Such ultimate reasons for choice are not arbitrarily selected. Intrinsic goods-that is, human goods that as basic aspects of human well-being and fulfillment provide more-than-merely-instrumental reasons for choices and actions-are not just whatever we happen to desire, perhaps different objects for different people.xi Rather, the intellectual apprehension that a condition or activity is really fulfilling or perfective (of me and/or of others like me) is at the same time the apprehension that this condition or activity is a fitting object of pursuit, that is, that it would be worth pursuing.xii These fundamental human goods are the actualizations of our basic potentialities, the conditions to which we are naturally oriented and which objectively fulfill us, the various aspects of our fulfillment as human persons.23 They include such fulfillments as human life and health, speculative knowledge or understanding, aesthetic experience, friendship or personal community, and harmony among the different aspects of the self.xiii The conditions or activities understood to be fulfilling and worth pursuing are not individual or particularized objects. I do not apprehend merely that my life or knowledge is intrinsically good and to be pursued. I apprehend that life and knowledge, whether instantiated in me or in others, is good and worth pursuing. For example, seeing an infant drowning in a shallow pool of water, I apprehend, without an inference, that a good worth preserving is in danger and so I reach out to save the child. The feature, fulfilling for me or for someone like me, is the feature in a condition or activity that makes it an ultimate reason for action. The question is: In what respect must someone be like me for his or her fulfillment to be correctly viewed as worth pursuing for its own sake in the same way that my good is worth pursuing? The answer is not immediately obvious to spontaneous, or first-order, practical reasoning, or to first-order moral reasoning. That is, the question of the extension of the fundamental goods genuinely worthy of pursuit and respect needs moral reflection to be answered. By such reflection, we can see that the relevant likeness (to me) is that others too rationally shape their lives, or have the potentiality of doing so. Other likenesses-age, gender, race, appearance, place of origin, etc.-are not relevant to making an entity's fulfillment fundamentally worth pursuing and respecting. But being a rational agent is relevant to this issue, for it is an object's being worthy of rational pursuit that I apprehend and that makes it an ultimate reason for action, and an intrinsic good.24 So, I ought primarily to pursue and respect not just life in general, for example, but the life of rational agents-a rational agent being one who either immediately or potentially (with a radical potentiality, as part of his or her nature) shapes his or her own life.25 Moreover, I understand that the basic goods are not just good for me as an individual, but for me acting in communion-rational cooperation and real friendship-with others. Indeed, communion with others, which includes mutual understanding and self-giving, is itself an irreducible aspect of human well-being and fulfillment-a basic good. But I can act in communion-real communion-only with beings with a rational nature. So, the basic goods are not just goods for me, but goods for me and all those with whom it is possible (in principle, at least) rationally to cooperate. All of the basic goods should be pursued and respected, not just as they are instantiable in me, but as they are instantiable in any being with a rational nature. In addition, by reflection we see that it would be inconsistent to respect my fulfillment, or my fulfillment plus that of others whom I just happen to like, and not respect the fulfillment of other, immediately or potentially, rational agents. For, entailed by rational pursuit of my good (and of the good of others I happen to like) is a demand on my part that others respect my good (and the good of those I like). That is, in pursuing my fulfillment I am led to appeal to the reason and freedom of others to respect that pursuit, and my real fulfillment. But in doing so, consistency, that is, reasonableness, demands that I also respect the rational pursuits and real fulfillment of other rational agents-that is, any entity that, immediately or potentially (that is, by self-directed development of innate or inherent natural capacities), rationally directs his or her own actions. In other words, the thought of the Golden Rule, basic fairness, occurs early on in moral reflection. One can hope that the weather, and other natural

Mar 1, 2001 —       Home About Us Meetings Reports Transcripts Background Materials Former Bioethics Commissions   Human Dignity and Bioethics: Essays Commissioned by the President's Council on Bioethics The President's Council on Bioethics Washington, D.C. March 2008 Part 4: The Source and Meaning of Dignity Chapter 12: Defending Human Dignity Leon R. Kass It is difficult to define what human dignity is. It is not an organ to be discovered in our body, it is not an empirical notion, but without it we would be unable to answer the simple question: what is wrong with slavery? -Leszek Kolakowski1 In American discussions of bioethical matters, human dignity, where it is not neglected altogether, is a problematic notion. There are disagreements about its importance relative to other human goods, such as freedom or justice. There are differences of opinion about exactly what it means and what it rests on, a difficulty painfully evident when appeals to "human dignity" are invoked on opposite sides of an ethical debate, for example, about whether permitting assisted suicide for patients suffering from degrading illnesses would serve or violate their human dignity. There are also disagreements about the extent to which considerations of human dignity should count in determining public policy. We friends of human dignity must acknowledge these difficulties, both for practice and for thought. In contrast to continental Europe and even Canada, human dignity has not been a powerful idea in American public discourse, devoted as we are instead to the language of rights and the pursuit of equality. Among us, the very idea of "dignity" smacks too much of aristocracy for egalitarians and too much of religion for secularists and libertarians. Moreover, it seems to be too private and vague a matter to be the basis for legislation or public policy. Yet, that said, we Americans actually care a great deal about human dignity, even if the term comes not easily to our lips. In times past, our successful battles against slavery, sweatshops, and segregation, although fought in the name of civil rights, were at bottom campaigns for human dignity-for treating human beings as they deserve to be treated, solely because of their humanity. Likewise, our taboos against incest, bestiality, and cannibalism, as well as our condemnations of prostitution, drug addiction, and self-mutilation- having little to do with defending liberty and equality-all seek to defend human dignity against (voluntary) acts of self -degradation. Today, human dignity is of paramount importance especially in matters bioethical. As we become more and more immersed in a world of biotechnology, we increasingly sense that we neglect human dignity at our peril, especially in light of gathering powers to intervene in human bodies and minds in ways that will affect our very humanity, likely threatening things that everyone, whatever their view of human dignity, holds dear. Truth to tell, it is beneath our human dignity to be indifferent to it. As part of its effort to develop and promote a "richer" bioethics, the President's Council on Bioethics, in its previously published works, has paid considerable attention to various aspects of human dignity that are at risk in our biotechnological age: the dignity of human procreation, threatened by cloning-to-produce-children and other projected forms of "manufacture"; the dignity of nascent human life, threatened by treating embryonic human beings as mere raw material for exploitation and use in research and commerce; the dignity of the human difference, threatened by research that would produce man-animal or man-machine hybrids; the dignity of bodily integrity, threatened by trafficking in human body parts; the dignity of psychic integrity, threatened by chemical interventions that would erase memories, create factitious moods, and transform personal identity; the dignity of human self-command, threatened by methods of behavior modification that bypass human agency; the dignity of human activity and human excellence, threatened by reliance on performance-enhancing or performance-transforming drugs; the dignity of living deliberately and self-consciously, mindful of the human life cycle and our finitude, threatened by efforts to deny or eliminate aging and to conquer mortality; the dignity of dying well (or of living well while dying), threatened by excessive medical intervention at the end of life; and the dignity of human being as such, threatened by the prospect of euthanasia and other "technical solutions" for the miseries that often accompany the human condition.2 Beyond these practical issues, the Council has also tried to call attention to the dignity of proper human self-understanding, threatened by shallow "scientistic" thinking about human phenomena-for example, views of human life that see organisms as mere means for the replication of their genes, the human body as a lifeless machine, or human love and moral choice as mere neurochemical events.3 In my own personal writings on biology and human affairs, spanning over thirty-five years, I have dealt with many of the same aspects of human dignity and the dangers they face from the new biology, both to our practice and to our thought.4 Yet neither the Council nor I have tried to articulate a full theoretical account of human dignity; neither have we tried to reconcile some of the competing views that are held by the various members, all bidding fair to gain our assent. This essay is offered as a contribution toward the development of such a conceptual account. Specifically, it aims to do three things: to defend a robust role in bioethics for the idea of human dignity; to make clearer what human dignity is and what it rests on; and to try to show the relationship between two equally important but sometimes competing ideas of human dignity: the basic dignity of human being and the full dignity of being (actively) human , of human flourishing.i Why Bioethics Must Care About Human Dignity: Old and New Concerns Attention to human dignity is important in nearly all arenas of bioethical concern: clinical medicine; research using human subjects; uses of novel biotechnologies "beyond therapy" (especially for so-called "enhancement" purposes); and "transhumanist" activities aimed at altering and transcending human nature. But because the central ethical concerns in these domains differ, each realm of bioethics gives special salience to a different aspect of human dignity. In clinical medicine, a primary ethical focus is on the need to respect the equal worth and dignity of each patient at every stage of his or her life-regardless of race, class or gender, condition of body and mind, severity of illness, nearness to death, or ability to pay for services rendered. Defenders of human dignity rightly insist that every patient deserves-from every physician, nurse, or hospital-equal respect in speech and deed and equal consideration regarding the selection of appropriate treatment. Moreover, they also rightly insist that no life is to be deemed worthier than another and that under no circumstances should we look upon a fellow human being as if he or she has a "life unworthy of life" and deserves to be made dead. The ground of these opinions, and of the respect for human dignity they betoken, lies not in the patient's autonomy or any other of his personal qualities or excellences, but rather in the patient's very being and vitality. Doctors should always respect the life the patient has, all the more because he has entrusted it to their care in the belief that they will indeed respect it to the very last. Regarding research with human subjects, the major ethical issues concern not only safeguarding the subject's life and health but also respecting the subject's humanity, even as he is being treated as an experimental animal. Concern for human dignity focuses on enlisting the human subject as a knowing and willing co-partner in the research enterprise. Soliciting voluntary informed consent pays tribute to the humanity of the human subject, even as that humanity will be largely overlooked in the research protocol. Bioethicists usually believe that respecting human dignity here means respecting subject autonomy-the freedom of the subject's will-and so it does; but there is more to it. It involves respecting also the subject's courage in accepting risks and discomforts, his philanthropic desire to contribute to a worthy cause, and his generosity of time and trouble in embracing activities from which he will receive no direct benefit. In these domains of clinical medicine and research involving human subjects, appeals to human dignity, while tacitly employing an ideal of proper treatment and respect, function explicitly and mainly as bulwarks against abuse: patients should not be reduced to "thing-hood" or treated as mere bodies; research subjects should not be utilized as mere means or treated only as experimental animals. This "negative" function of the concept of human dignity in these domains makes perfect sense, inasmuch as it is intended-and needed-to restrain the strong in their dealings with the weak. It makes even more sense once we remember the origins of modern biomedical ethics: a concern for human dignity hovers over all of modern biomedical ethics owing to the world's horror at the Nazi atrocities, atrocities in which German scientists and German doctors were deeply implicated. They more than lent a hand with eugenic sterilization, barbaric human experimentation, and mass extermination of the "unfit"-all undertaken, mind you, in order to produce "a more perfect human." The rise to prominence of the idea of "human dignity" in post-World-War-II Europe, expressed in the laws of many nations and especially in the United Nations' Universal Declaration of Human Rights, was surely intended to ensure that no human beings should ever again be so abused, degraded, and dehumanized-and, of course, annihilated. But a more robust notion of human dignity is needed when we turn from these traditional domains of medical ethics to the moral challenges raised by new biotechnological powers and the novel purposes to which they are being put, and when we turn from concerns with abuse of power that the strong inflict upon the weak to concerns with ethically dubious uses of powers that the strong-indeed, most of us-will choose to exercise for and on ourselves. Our desires for a better life do not end with health, and the uses of biotechnology are not limited to therapy. Its powers to alter the workings of body and mind are attractive not only to the sick and suffering, but to everyone who desires to look younger, perform better, feel happier, or become more "perfect." We have already entered the age of biotechnical enhancement: growth hormone to make children taller; pre-implantation genetic screening to facilitate eugenic choice (now to rule out defects, soon to rule in assets); Ritalin and other stimulants to control behavior or boost performance on exams; Prozac and other drugs to brighten moods and alter temperaments-not to mention Botox, Viagra, and anabolic steroids. Looking ahead, other invitations are already visible on the horizon: Drugs to erase painful or shameful memories or to simulate falling in love. Genes to increase the size and strength of muscles. Nano-mechanical implants to enhance sensation or motor skills. Techniques to slow biological aging and increase the maximum human lifespan. Thanks to these and other innovations, venerable human desires-for better children, superior performance, ageless bodies, and happy souls-may increasingly be satisfied with the aid of biotechnology. A new field of "transhumanist" science is rallying thought and research for wholesale redesign of human nature, employing genetic and neurological engineering and man-machine hybrids, en route to what has been blithely called a "posthuman future." Neither the familiar principles of contemporary bioethics-respect for persons, beneficence (or "non-maleficence"), and justice- nor our habitual concerns for safety, efficacy, autonomy, and equal access will enable us to assess the true promise and peril of the biotechnology revolution. Our hopes for self-improvement and our disquiet about a "posthuman" future are much more profound. At stake are the kind of human being and the sort of society we will be creating in the coming age of biotechnology. At stake are the dignity of the human being-including the dignity or worth of human activity, human relationships, and human society-and the nature of human flourishing. To be sure, the biotechnological revolution may, as the optimists believe, serve to enhance human dignity. It may enable more and more people to realize the American dream of liberty, prosperity, and justice for all. It may enable many more human beings-biologically better-equipped, aided by performance-enhancers, liberated from the constraints of nature and fortune-to live lives of achievement, contentment, and high self-esteem, come what may. But there are reasons to wonder whether life will really be better if we turn to biotechnology to fulfill our deepest human desires. There is an old expression: to a man armed with a hammer, everything looks like a nail. To a society armed with biotechnology, the activities of human life may come to be seen in purely technical terms, and more amenable to improvement than they really are. We may get more easily what we asked for only to realize it is vastly less than what we really wanted. Worse, we may get exactly what we ask for and fail to recognize what it cost us in coin of our humanity . We might get better children, but only by turning procreation into manufacture or by altering their brains to gain them an edge over their peers. We might perform better in the activities of life, but only by becoming mere creatures of our chemists or by turning ourselves into bionic tools designed to win and achieve in inhuman ways. We might get longer lives, but only at the cost of living carelessly with diminished aspiration for living well or becoming people so obsessed with our own longevity that we care little about the next generations. We might get to be "happy," but only by means of a drug that gives us happy feelings without the real loves, attachments, and achievements that are essential for true human flourishing. As Aldous Huxley prophetically warned us, in his dystopian novel Brave New World , the unbridled yet well-meaning pursuit of the mastery of human nature and human troubles through technology can issue in a world peopled by creatures of human shape but of shrunken humanity-engaged in trivial pursuits; lacking science, art, religion, and self-government; missing love, friendship, or any true human attachments; and getting their jollies from high-tech amusements and a bottle of soma. This is not the place to argue whether we have more to fear than to hope from biotechnological enhancement or the pursuit of a post-human future. I happen to share Huxley's worries, and I surely see no reason to adopt the optimism of the transhumanists-especially because they cannot provide a plausible picture of "the new posthuman being," and, worse, can offer no standards for judging whether their new "creature" will be better than Homo sapiens . But for present purposes, my point is simply this: we cannot evaluate any proposed enhancements or alterations of our humanity unless we have some idea of human dignity, some notion of what is estimable and worthy and excellent about being human. In order to know whether change is progress rather than degradation, we need a standard of the un degraded and the admirable. We need to understand the nature and worth of human flourishing in order to recognize both the true promise of self-improvement and the hazards of self-degradation; we need to understand the nature and worth of human agency and human activity in order to recognize both enhancement and corruption of our ways of encountering the world and one another; we need to understand the nature and worth of human aspiration and human fulfillment in order to assess not only the means but also the ends that we will be pursuing in the coming age of biotechnology, both for ourselves as individuals and for our society. We need, in short, wisdom about human dignity and what sustains and enhances it- and what destroys it. Concerns for human dignity in bioethical matters take mainly two forms: concerns for the dignity of life around the edges (the "life and death" issues) and concerns for the dignity of life in its fullness and flourishing (the "good life" and "dehumanization" issues; the "Brave New World" issues). In the former case are questions regarding what we owe to nascent life (including fetal and embryonic life, in vivo and in vitro ) that has yet to attain full development of human powers, and what we owe to fading or dying human life, life not only past its prime but, in many cases, life with the most human of our powers dwindling to near-nothingness. Especially poignant are those cases in which-often thanks to previous medical successes, and the ease of combating potentially lethal infections-individuals are sustained, often for years, in greatly degraded conditions, incapable of living dignifiedly while dying or having a timely end to their life. In the latter case are questions regarding what makes for true human flourishing and how to keep human life human, in the face of the soul-flattening and dehumanizing dangers of a Brave New World. Especially difficult here will be discerning which proposed enhancements of body or mind actually conduce to human dignity and to living well and which do not-and which, tragically, at once improve and degrade. Depending on which of the two dangers most trouble us, defenders of human dignity will emphasize either the basic dignity of human being or the full dignity of being (flourishingly) human.ii If one believes that the greatest threat we face comes in the form of death and destruction-say, in the practices of euthanasia and assisted suicide, embryo research, or even just denial of treatment to the less than fully fit-then one will be primarily concerned to uphold the equal dignity of every still-living human being, regardless of condition. If, conversely, one thinks that the greatest threat we face comes not from killing the creature made in God's image but either from trying to redesign him after our own fantasies or from self -abasement owing to shrunken views of human well-being (à la Nietzsche's "last man"), then one will be primarily concerned to uphold the full dignity of human excellence and rich human flourishing. The two aspects of human dignity do not always have the same defenders, especially when concerns for equality and life seem to be at odds with concerns for excellence and living well. Indeed, defenders of one aspect of dignity sometimes ignore the claims made on behalf of the other. Certain pro-lifers appear to care little whether babies are cloned or even "born" in bottles, so long as no embryo dies in the process; and others insist that life must be sustained come what may, even if it means being complicit in prolonging the degradation and misery of loved ones. Conversely, certain advocates of so-called "death with dignity" appear to care little whether the weak and the unwanted will be deemed unworthy of life and swept off the stage, so long as they get to exercise control over how their own life ends; and patrons of excellence through biotechnological enhancement often have little patience with the need to care, here and now, for those whose days of excellence are long gone. Meanwhile, those who dream of posthuman supermen appear to care not a fig either for the dignity of human being or for the dignity of being human, since they esteem not at all the dignity of us ordinary mortals, never mind those of us who are even less than merely ordinary. Yet there is no reason why friends of human dignity cannot be- and, indeed, should not be-defenders of all aspects of human dignity, both the dignity of "the low" and the dignity of "the high." Yes, there will be times when there will be tensions between them, demanding prudent and loving attention lest we make major mistakes. Yes, each aspect if emphasized single-mindedly may appear to threaten the other: concern for the dignity of human flourishing may appear to look down invidiously on the less than excellent; concern for the dignity of ("mere") human aliveness may appear willing to level all higher human possibilities. But precisely to avoid the dangers of myopic single-mindedness, we can, and must, defend both the dignity of human being and the dignity of being human . In fact, as I will suggest at the end, when properly understood, the two notions are much more intertwined than they are opposed. But first, we need to look at each more closely, beginning with the dignity of being human-the dignity of human flourishing, the dignity of living well. Full Human Dignity: The Dignity of Being Human Discussions of human dignity are, alas, not generally known for their concreteness. The term itself is abstract and highly ambiguous,iii as are many of the notions-for example, "human worth" or "high moral standing"-we invoke when trying to explain what we mean by "dignity." Yet despite these difficulties, we can in fact readily recognize dignity, both when we see it shining and when we see it extinguished. Here are some vivid examples, one positive and one negative. Among the many moving songs from the American Civil War, one in particular always gives me gooseflesh: the "First Arkansas Marching Song," written for and sung by a regiment made up entirely of ex-slaves fighting on the side of the Union:iv Oh we're the bully soldiers of the "First of Arkansas," We are fighting for the Union, we are fighting for the law; We can hit a Rebel further than a white man ever saw, As we go marching on. (Chorus: Glory, glory, hallelujah, etc.) We are done with hoeing cotton, we are done with hoeing corn, We are colored Yankee soldiers, now, as sure as you are born; When the masters hear us yelling, they will think it's Gabriel's horn, As we go marching on. Then fall in, colored brethren, you'd better do it soon, Can't you hear the drums a-beating the Yankee Doodle tune; We are with you now this morning, we'll be far away at noon, As we go marching on. Debased ex-slaves, only recently hoeing cotton and corn for their masters, transform themselves into brave soldiers "fighting for the Union.fighting for the law." Although formally emancipated by Lincoln's proclamation months earlier, they were truly lifted up from slavery not by another's largesse but by their own power and choice. They celebrate here their new estate, singing out their newly found dignity and beckoning others to join the cause. Our heart is stirred by this simple display of noble humanity, especially because it actively reverses their previous degradation and because it fully refutes the dehumanizing conclusions some had drawn from their prior servitude and submissiveness, namely, that anyone who accepts a life in slavery must have a slavish soul. I am particularly moved by the ex-slaves' dedication to a cause higher than their own advantage. And my imagination thrills to the picture of their marching through Southern towns and past slave-holding plantations, summoning their brethren to affirm their own dignity by putting their lives also in the service of freedom and Union. Opposite to this example of dignity triumphing over degradation is the self-inflicted dehumanization of Herr Professor Immanuel Rath in the classic German movie, The Blue Angel (1930).5 A strict, upright, gymnasium English teacher, Professor Rath goes to the local night club to reprimand his wayward students who have been attracted there by the siren singer, Lola Lola, and to scold her for corrupting the young. But on entering into her presence, Rath is smitten by Lola's charms, and he returns the next night filled with desires of his own. When he gallantly "defends her honor" against a brutish sea captain seeking sexual favors, Lola, touched by his chivalry on her behalf, invites him to spend the night. Exposed in school the next morning by his students, the honorable professor declares his intention to marry Lola Lola, for which decision he is promptly dismissed from his position. After laughing uncontrollably at his proposal, Lola Lola unaccountably accepts him; yet at the wedding feast, in front of all the guests, Rath is made to cock-a-doodle-do like a rooster in love. The married professor now joins the traveling show, first as Lola's servant, later as a performing clown. Eventually, when the traveling entertainers return to his hometown, Professor Rath is made co-star of the vaudeville show. With her latest lover at her side, Lola forces Rath to play a (cuckolded) crowing rooster while eggs are cracked upon his skull before a full house of roaring spectators, including his former students and neighbors. It is a scene of human abasement that is unbearable to watch. What human goods and evils are at issue in these two vignettes? Not liberty or equality or health or safety or justice, but primarily the gain or loss of worthy humanity-in short, the display or the liquidation of human dignity. In the first case, degraded human beings knowingly assert their humanity and their manhood, committing their lives to the cause of freedom, union, and law; anyone who is not humanly stunted admires and applauds their nobility, their courage, and their devotion to a righteous purpose higher than themselves. In the second case, an upright and proper man of learning loses, first, his wits and his profession to his infatuation and, finally, every shred of dignified humanity, as he shrinks to impersonate an inarticulate barnyard animal; anyone who is not humanly stunted shudders at his utter degradation, notwithstanding the fact that he brought it on himself. With these examples of dignity and its degradation before us, let me try to specify what I think we should mean by the "dignity of being human." On anyone's account, the idea of "dignity" conveys a special standing for the beings that possess or display it. Both historically and linguistically, "dignity" has always conveyed something elevated, something deserving of respect. The central notion, etymologically, both in English and in its Latin root ( dignitas ),v is that of worthiness, elevation, honor, nobility, height-in short, of excellence or virtue. In all its meanings it is a term of distinction; dignity was not something that, like a nose or a navel, was to be expected or found in every living human being. Dignitas was, in principle, "aristocratic," less in the sense of social class, more in the sense of human excellence ( aristos , from the Greek, means "best"). Even in democratic times, as the soldiers of the First of Arkansas make clear, "dignity" still conveys the presence and active display of what is humanly best. Before attempting further specification of dignity's substance, let me address a couple of objections that I anticipate even to what little I have already said. Some people complain that all notions of dignity are merely social constructs, projections of the prejudices of (aristocratic) societies and conferred or attributed from the outside-as are honor and office. In the same spirit, others object that notions of dignity that appeal to excellence necessarily deny human dignity to many or most people, because they are essentially comparative . But if carefully examined, these complaints are not justified. Yes, societies accord honor to human excellence-and, yes, different societies esteem different virtues differently-but in many (if not most) cases the virtues esteemed are truly marks of superior humanity: the fireman who rushes into a burning building to save a child or the soldier who falls on a grenade to save his buddies is deserving of our admiration, and he will win it in many if not all societies. Mother Theresa and the Dalai Lama justly earn nearly universal applause; Saddam Hussein and Pol Pot justly earn nearly universal condemnation. The dignity of the First of Arkansas is displayed from within, not conferred from without; the dehumanization of Immanuel Rath is self-evident and intrinsic, not stipulated or attributed. Although we often do contrast the virtue of one person with the vice of another-as I have just done-such judgments of excellence and its opposite are, in fact, only accidentally comparative. When we recognize the superior dignity of Mother Theresa we do so not by comparing her against Saddam Hussein or even against merely moderately virtuous human beings. We judge not that she is better than others (as we do in competitive sports)-though, in fact, it happens that she is-but rather that she measures up to and even exceeds a high standard of excellent character and dignified conduct. We are not comparing individuals against each other; we are measuring them against a standard of goodness. Proof: courageous or generous deeds would still be courageous or generous deeds-equally dignified and equally honorable-even if everyone practiced them regularly. Thus, the seemingly inegalitarian nature of dignity grounded in excellence of character is not in its essence undemocratic, even if ethical virtue is not, in fact, displayed equally by everyone. Indeed, the fact that most of us esteem and honor conduct better than our own is strong evidence that we do not feel ourselves diminished by it. On the contrary, just as taste honors those who appreciate genius almost as much as it honors those who display genius, so the appreciation of exemplary human dignity honors also the dignity of those who can recognize and esteem it. Excellence is only accidentally invidious; and the need to make discriminating judgments is no reason to shy away from caring for dignity. The trouble with dignity is not that dignity is conventional rather than natural, ascribed or attributed rather than intrinsic, or that it involves making discriminations of worthiness that, alas, find some people lacking. The serious difficulty in speaking about dignity is entirely substantive: Which intrinsic excellences or "elevations" are at the heart of human dignity and give their bearers special worth and standing? Let me review some candidates, beginning with the dignity of heroes. Although they did not have the term, dignity as honor linked to excellence or virtue would certainly be the view of the ancient Greeks. In the world of the poets, the true or full human being, the hero who drew honor and prizes as his dignity, displayed his worthiness in noble and glorious deeds. Supreme was the virtue of courage: the willingness to face death in battle, armed only with your own prowess, going forth against an equally worthy opponent-think Achilles against Hector-who, like you, sought a victory not only over his adversary but, as it were, over death itself. This heroic dignity, esteemed because it does not hide from the affront of our mortality but goes forward to meet it face to face, is poles apart from our bourgeois fear of death and love of medicine, though, paradoxically, it honors the human body as a thing of beauty to a degree unsurpassed in human history. Heroic excellence, following the Socratic turn, was later supplanted in Greek philosophy by the virtue of wisdom; the new hero is not the glorious warrior but the man singularly devoted to wisdom, living close to death not on the field of battle but by a single-minded quest for knowledge eternal. Yet attractive though these candidates are (we can still read about Achilles and Socrates with admiration), the Greek exemplars are of little practical use in democratic times and, especially, in bioethical matters. True enough, courage and wisdom still contribute to dignity, and they are admirable beyond the confines of war or philosophical pursuit. For example, part of what we mean by "dignified dying" is seen in the courage with which death is faced and in the degree to which the dying person knows the score and does not shrink from the grim truth. Nevertheless, the dehumanization evident in Huxley's Brave New World is not primarily that it lacks glorious warriors or outstanding philosophers (or artists or scientists or statesmen)- though the fact that they are not appreciated in such a world is telling. The basic problem is the absence of kinds of human dignity more abundantly found and universally shared. In Western philosophy the most high-minded attempt to supply a teaching of universal human dignity belongs to Kant, with his doctrine of respect for persons . Persons, all persons or rational beings (human or not), deserve respect not because of some realized excellence of achievement but because of a universally shared participation in morality and the ability to live under the moral law. However we may finally judge it, there is something highly dignified in Kant's effort to find a place for human freedom and dignity in the face of the Newtonian world view that captures even the human being, omitting only the rational will. And there is something austerely dignified in the Kantian refusal to confuse reason with rationalization, duty with inclination, and the right and the good with happiness (pleasure). Whatever persists of a non-utilitarian ethic in contemporary academic bioethics descends largely from this principled moralistic view.vi Never mind that, for most people, human "autonomy" no longer means living under the universalizable law that self-legislating reason prescribes for itself, but has come to mean "choosing for yourself, whatever you choose," or even "asserting yourself authentically, reason be damned." Lurking even in this debased view of the "autonomous person" is an idea of the human being as something more than a bundle of impulses seeking release and a bag of itches seeking scratching. "Personhood," understood as genuine moral agency, may indeed be threatened by powers to fiddle around with human appetites through psychoactive drugs or computer chips implanted in brains. We are not wrong to seek to protect it. Yet Kant's respect for persons is largely formal, abstracting from how persons actually exercise their freedom of will. If, as he suggests, universal human dignity is grounded in the moral life, in that everyone faces and makes moral choices and is capable of living under the moral law, greater dignity would seem to attach to having a good moral life, that is, on choosing well and on choosing rightly . Is there not more dignity in the courageous than in the cowardly, in the moderate than in the self-indulgent, in the righteous than in the wicked, in the honest man than in the liar?vii Should we not distinguish between the basic dignity of having freedom and the greater dignity of using it well? But there is a deeper difficulty with the Kantian dignity of "personhood." It is finally inadequate for our purposes, not because it is undemocratic or too demanding, but because it is, in an important respect, inhuman. Precisely because it dualistically sets up the concept of "personhood" in opposition to nature and the body, it fails to do justice to the concrete reality of our embodied lives, lives of begetting and belonging no less than of willing and thinking. Precisely because it is universalistically rational, it denies the importance of life's concrete particularity, lived always locally, corporeally, and in a unique trajectory from zygote in the womb to body in the coffin. Precisely because "personhood" is distinct from our lives as embodied, rooted, connected, and aspiring beings, the dignity of rational choice pays no respect at all to the dignity we have through our loves and longings-central aspects of human life understood as a grown-togetherness of body and soul. Not all of human dignity consists in reason or freedom. It is, I note in passing, easy to see why the notion of "personal dignity" is of limited value in the realm of bioethics. Although the bioethics of personhood is very good at defending those aspects of human dignity tied to respect for autonomy against violations of human will, including failures to gain informed consent and excessive paternalistic behavior by experts and physicians, this moral teaching has very little to offer in the battle against the dehumanizing hazards of a Brave New World. For it is, in fact, perfectly comfortable with embryo farming, surrogate motherhood, cloning, the sale of organs, performance-enhancing drugs, doctoring of memory, chemical happiness, man-machine hybrids, and even extra-corporeal gestation- Why?-because these peculiar treatments of the body or uses of our embodiments are no harm to that homunculus of personhood that resides somewhere happily in a morally disembodied place. Pace Kant, the answer for the threat to human dignity arising from sacrificing the humanly high to the humanly urgent, the soul to the body, is not a teaching of human dignity that severs mind from body, that ignores the urgent, or that denies dignity to human bodily life as lived. The defense of what is humanly high requires an equal defense of what is seemingly "low." The account of human dignity we badly need in bioethics goes beyond the said dignity of "persons" to embrace the worthiness of embodied human life, and therewith of our natural desires and passions, our natural origins and attachments, our sentiments and repugnances, our loves and longings. What we need is a defense of the dignity of what Tolstoy called "real life," life as ordinarily lived, everyday life in its concreteness. Our theories about human dignity need to catch up with its widespread, not to say ubiquitous, existence. As we learn from everyday life, the dignity of being human is perfectly at home in ordinary life, and I would add, in democratic times. Courage, moderation, generosity, righteousness, and the other human virtues are not solely confined to the few. Many of us strive for them, with partial success, and still more of us do ourselves honor when we recognize and admire those people nobler and finer than ourselves. We frequently give our wayward neighbors the benefit of the doubt, and we strongly believe in the possibility of a second chance. No one ever knows for sure when a person hitherto seemingly weak of character will rise to the occasion, actualizing an ever-present potential for worthy conduct. No one knows when, as in the case of the ex-slaves of the First of Arkansas, human dignity will summon itself and shine forth brightly. With suitable models, proper rearing, and adequate encouragement-or even just the fitting occasion-many of us can be and act more in accord with our higher natures. In truth, if we know how to look we find evidence of human dignity all around us, in the valiant efforts ordinary people make to meet necessity, to combat adversity and disappointment, to provide for their children, to care for their parents, to help their neighbors, to serve their country. Life provides numerous hard occasions that call for endurance and equanimity, generosity and kindness, courage and self-command. Adversity sometimes brings out the best in a man, and often shows best what he is made of. As the example of Tolstoy's Ivan Illich shows, even confronting our own death provides an opportunity for the exercise of admirable humanity, for the small and great alike. Beyond the dignity of virtue and the dignity of endurance, there is also the simple but deep dignity of human activity-sewing a dress, throwing a pot, building a fire, cooking a meal, dressing a wound, singing a song, or offering a blessing made in gratitude. There is the simple but deep dignity of intimate human relations-bathing a child, receiving a guest, embracing a friend, kissing one's bride, consoling the bereaved, dancing a dance, or raising a glass in gladness. And there is the simple but deep dignity of certain ennobling human passions-hope, wonder,

Sep 4, 2012 — The Catholic Perspective on Human Dignity

Apr 28, 2022 — Francesca Patti on who is my neighbor?

Dec 10, 2021 — The Holy Father Francis received in audience the members of the Union of Italian Catholic Jurists (UGCI) on the occasion of the 70th National Study Congress organized by the UGCI on the theme “The last. Legal protection of the weak” [Augustinianum Patristic Institute and the Libera Università Maria Santissima Assunta (LUMSA), 9-11 December 2021]

Nov 30, 2021 — A panel discussion with Javier de Cendra (Universidad Francisco de Vitoria), Mary Anne Case (University of Chicago), and Eric Claeys (George Mason University). From the 2021 Notre Dame Fall Conference, "I Have Called You By Name: Human Dignity in a Secular World". Session chair: Michael Bradley (University of Notre Dame). Full speaker lineup: https://ethicscenter.nd.edu/programs/fall-conference/2021-i-have-called-you-by-name/

Nov 30, 2021 — Panel discussion featuring Erika Bachiochi (Ethics and Public Policy Center), Abigail Favale (George Fox University), and Leah Libresco Sargeant. Session chair Marah McLeod (Notre Dame Law School). From the 2021 Notre Dame Fall Conference, "I Have Called You By Name: Human Dignity in a Secular World". Full speaker lineup: https://ethicscenter.nd.edu/programs/fall-conference/2021-i-have-called-you-by-name/

Nov 30, 2021 — By Gilbert Meilaender (Valparaiso University), with a response by James Mumford. From the 2021 Notre Dame Fall Conference, "I Have Called You By Name: Human Dignity in a Secular World". Session chair: the Rev. Kevin Grove, C.S.C. (University of Notre Dame). Full speaker lineup: https://ethicscenter.nd.edu/programs/fall-conference/2021-i-have-called-you-by-name/

Nov 29, 2021 — Message of His Holiness Pope Francis to mark the 70th anniversary of the International Organization of Migration (IOM), 29 November 2021

Nov 14, 2021 — By Mary Ann Glendon (Emerita, Harvard Law School). Closing session of the 2021 Notre Dame Fall Conference, "I Have Called You By Name: Human Dignity in a Secular World". Session chair: O. Carter Snead (Director, de Nicola Center for Ethics and Culture). Full speaker lineup: https://ethicscenter.nd.edu/programs/fall-conference/2021-i-have-called-you-by-name/