Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Guest Blogger: Russell Blackford: We interrupt transmission.


My thoughts on Barack Obama's inauguration are over at Metamagician and the Hellfire Club.


But let me add this as a small treat. The American Humanist Association is running an ad congratulating Obama, and emphasising his non-religious upbringing.

Russell Blackford is an Australian philosopher. He has published extensively (novels, short stories, academic monographs and articles, and book reviews) and is editor-in-chief of The Journal of Evolution and Technology. His home blog is Metamagician and the Hellfire Club.

Guest Blogger: Russell Blackford: Freedom of religion (belief, conscience, and worship). Part 3.

In Part 2. of this series, I concluded that freedom of religion, despite its undeniable importance, has significant limits to what it can, or should, achieve. In particular, it is not a free pass to break laws that could be decribed as "religion blind": laws with some legitimate secular justification, such as the need for state power to protect us from acts of violence or theft.

Abridging freedom of religion – compelling justification?

Could there be situations where the state must enact laws that are not religion blind or are not of general application, with the effect of suppressing religious organisations or doctrines, or associated practices? We're not talking here about a law that applies to everybody, such as the prohibition of murder; quintessentially, I mean a law that, for example, prohibits attendance at religious services conducted by the Roman Catholic Church.

In pinciple, the answer must be that no political freedom is absolute, so there could be some situation where a compelling justification is made out. In practice, however, I expect that this would be extremely rare. Any situation that actually arises is likely to be one where the law proposed is not justified … or else it will at least arguably be a law of general application if it's looked at fairly.

The only more-or-less clear situations I can imagine are where specific laws might have to be made to constrain the actions of religious groups that attempt to coerce individuals not to leave, or in some other way exercise power over individuals that causes them serious harms that they cannot realistically be said to have consented to freely. In such a case, the Millian harm principle could be invoked in an effort to protect individuals from private power (bearing in mind the obvious fact that the relationship between the state and its citizens is not the only power relationship in modern societies). But even here, whatever action the state takes must have a narrow aim and be appropriately tailored and confined to it.

Locke proposed that the state should tolerate almost all religions, including all sects of Protestant Christianity ... plus Judaism, Islam, and pretty much the range of religions outside the Abrahamic tradition. But he did not think that atheists or Roman Catholics could be tolerated. Note, however, that he gave secular reasons as to why. Atheists, he thought could not be trusted to keep their oaths (lacking belief in divine retribution). If he'd been right about that, tolerating atheism would (maybe ironically?) do secular harm. Roman Catholics were beyond the pale, according to Locke, for another reason: he saw them as undermining loyalty to the nation because they maintained a higher loyalty to the hierarchs of the Vatican. While these are not actually great examples, as we now know, the important point is that Locke offered what he thought were compelling secular justifications.

The lesson I draw from Locke's examples is that we should be sceptical when someone offers what they consider a compelling secular justification for abridging freedom of religion, rather than merely requiring everyone to obey the general law (which should be constrained by principles such as the Millian harm principle).

Accommodating religion?

Finally, nothing that I've said rules out offering religious believers some accommodation in cases where this can be done without undermining the secular purpose of a law. This may be wise in order to avoid tensions, or to express some understanding and acceptance of other ways of thinking. However, where the state does this it is more the extension of a concession than something it is bound to do in order to grant freedom of religion.

After all, think of case like this. We might have defensible secular laws of general application setting health standards for cheese manufactured in our local jurisdiction or imported into it. Those rules might balance many interests, including bureaucratic simplicity. While the law is probably a legitimate one (let's assume this), does it matter if everyone obeys it strictly with no exceptions? Perhaps not, if the exceptions are defined clearly and narrowly. What if a cheese importer tells the government that it has been importing cheese that does not meet the standards – but does meet an alternative set of standards that has been used successfully in France? I think there's then a good case to amend the legislation to allow the importation of cheese from France that meets the relevant French standards.

Often the law, quite legitimately, has a degree of wiggle room; if it does, there may be scope to accommodate people who'd be badly affected by it if it were applied with no exceptions. In those cases, I don't mind religious (or cultural) groups asking for some kind of well-defined accommodation. E.g., it might be possible to give some exemptions to Muslim communities or groups of Australian Aboriginal if general standards for burials cut across the practices of those groups, and if the particular exceptions/exemptions can be made without substantial harm.

But accommodating people is a two-way street. For a start, it might not be possible for them to be accommodated totally. That might create too great a cost. Or the people being accommodated might have to make some contribution towards the state's policy, even if full compliance is not demanded of them. And there may be other factors.

There's an excellent chapter on this kind of issue in Future Bioethics: Overcoming Taboos, Myths, and Dogmas, by Ronald A. Lindsay - a book that I recommend to all readers of this blog. Lindsay is writing in the context of religious claims for a right of "conscientious objection" in the field of health and medicine. He argues that we often have good reasons to resist claims for conscientious objection in that field.

Whatever the merit of individual situations, my main point here is that freedom of belief, conscience, and worship does not give you an automatic ticket to have your scruples accommodated every time they clash with the requirements of the general law.

That's not freedom of religion – it's something else entirely. Considered by itself, it falls far short of the sweeping freedom to believe in even the most bizarre or illiberal doctrines without being persecuted by the state (but not necessarily to act on them). Considered as added extra, it goes well beyond freedom of religion as Locke understood it, and as I believe we should understand today.

Russell Blackford is an Australian philosopher. He has published extensively (novels, short stories, academic monographs and articles, and book reviews) and is editor-in-chief of The Journal of Evolution and Technology. His home blog is Metamagician and the Hellfire Club.

Guest Blogger: Russell Blackford: Now that we know each other a little bit better ...

... let me stop for a bit to thank George Dvorsky publicly for inviting me as a guest blogger here at Sentient Developments. It's an honour to be writing for such a classy and highly-regarded blog, and I'm certainly enjoying the experience so far.


I have quite few more topics to get to before they shoo me out of here. Among them, there's an update on the situation with The Global Spiral, which published a special issue last year, devoted to transhumanism. I discussed this at the time in a series of posts in June/July 2008, over on my own blog, starting with this one. But things have now moved along.

It's also, I think, worth saying a bit about a related topic, what might be called "The baggage of transhumanism" - an issue that clearly affected the rebadging of the World Transhumanist Association when it moved to "Humanity+" as its "trading as" name - a move that I approve of, by the way. But how much baggage does the word "transhumanism" carry, right now? Far too much to be worth using, according to Greg Egan, who took part with some other heavyweight intellects in a spirited debate over here (I've linked to a post that has far and away my record for number of comments in reply ... 185 of them in all).

Also, I still owe Part 3. of my series of posts on the philosophy of religious freedom. That will be coming up soon.

Stay tuned: there's some good discussion ahead of us over the next few days, I hope.

Russell Blackford is an Australian philosopher. He has published extensively (novels, short stories, academic monographs and articles, and book reviews) and is editor-in-chief of The Journal of Evolution and Technology. His home blog is Metamagician and the Hellfire Club.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Towards a 'largely robotic' battlefield

A new book will hit store shelves later this week that will be of interest to those concerned about the ongoing roboticization and de-humanizing of military technology. The book, Wired for War: The Robotics Revolution and Conflict in the 21st Century, is authored by P. W. Singer, the director of the 21st Century Defense Initiative at the Brookings Institution. He has also published Children at War (2005) and Corporate Warriors: The Rise of the Privatized Military Industry (2003).

In a recent Wilson Quarterly article, Singer makes the claim that Pentagon planners are already provisioning for battlefields that will be, as they put it, "largely robotic." It's no secret that the U.S. military is developing a variety of unmanned weapons and seemingly futuristic technologies -- everything from automated machine guns and robotic ­stretcher ­bearers to tiny but lethal robots the size of insects.

As these weapons gain more and more autonomy, deeper questions arise. Singer poses difficult questions: "Can the new armaments reliably separate friend from foe? What laws and ethical codes apply? What are we saying when we send out unmanned ma­chines to fight for us? What is the “message” that those on the other side receive?" And ultimately, asks Singer, how will we remain masters of weapons that are immeasurably faster and more "intelligent" than we are?

Proxy killing

A fundamental problem as Singer sees it is the ease with which killing can now take place. He cites the example of the Predator, an unmanned aerial vehicle (UAVs). This propeller-­powered drone is 27 feet in length, can spend up to 24 hours in the air and flies at a height of 26,000 feet. Predators are flown by "reach-back" or "remote-split" operators -- military personnel who are 7,500 miles away and who fly the planes via satellite from a set of converted ­single-­wide trailers located mostly at Nellis and Creech Air Force bases in Nevada.

This type of operation has created a rather novel situation where "pilots" experience the psychological disconnect of being "at war" while dealing with their daily domestic routines. Singer notes the words of one Predator pilot, “You see Americans killed in front of your eyes and then have to go to a PTA meeting.” Says another, “You are going to war for 12 hours, shooting weapons at targets, directing kills on enemy combatants, and then you get in the car, drive home, and within 20 minutes you are sitting at the dinner table talking to your kids about their homework."

These days there are more than 5,300 drones in the U.S. military’s total arsenal and not a single mission happens without them. The Pentagon predicts future conflicts involving tens of thousands.

Better than humans

The appeal of robots is obvious. They don't need to be returned home in body bags after they've shot down. Moreover, robots don't come with typical human frailties and foibles. "They don’t get hungry," says Gordon Johnson of the Pentagon’s Joint Forces Command. "They’re not afraid. They don’t forget their orders. They don’t care if the guy next to them has just been shot. Will they do a better job than humans? Yes." Johnson's comments sound eerily like the script from a Terminator movie.

And as these technologies improve, human capabilities are being increasingly pushed to their limits. Today's F-16 fighter jet can maneuver so fast and hard that its pilots black out. As a DARPA official has noted, "the human is becoming the weakest link in defense systems." Moving forward, autonomous weaponry will be increasingly used in place of humans. Eventually it will be robot versus robot -- especially when the theater of operations starts to function at technologic speed. The Pentagon is aware of this possibility, noting that "As the loop gets shorter and shorter, there won’t be any time in it for humans."

Failure to override

The inevitable question arises: Who will control robots that work autonomously and at suprahuman 'technologic' speed? There are already disturbing examples of 'failure to override' incidences -- when machines function outside of human control and can't be shut down. Today's Navy ships use the Aegis computer system which enters into "casualty" mode when all the humans onboard are dead. In this situation the guns go into a kind of berserker mode and the computer does its best to ensure that the ship doesn't get hit. As Singer notes, "Humans can override the Aegis system in any of its modes, but experience shows that this capability is often beside the point, since people hesitate to use this power. Sometimes the consequences are ­tragic."

Part of the problem is that humans are starting to give intelligent systems the benefit of doubt. In many cases the human power "in the loop" was actually only veto power -- but even that is a power that military personnel are often unwilling to use against the quicker (and what they viewed as superior) judgment of a ­computer.

The next step in this trend is to give robots the ability to fire back on their own. As Johnson notes:
Anyone who would shoot at our forces would die. Before he can drop that weapon and run, he’s probably already dead. Well now, these cowards in Baghdad would have to pay with blood and guts every time they shot at one of our folks. The costs of poker went up significantly. The enemy, are they going to give up blood and guts to kill machines? I’m guessing not.
Johnson in particular views this as not only logical but quite attractive.

Removing the human factor


Retired Army colonel Thomas Adams believes that the speed, confusion, and information overload of modern-day war will soon move the whole process outside "human space." He predicts that future weapons will be too fast, too small and too numerous; they will create an environment that's simply too complex for humans to direct.

The Joint Forces Command is very aware of this possibility, noting that autonomous robots on the battlefield will be the norm within 20 years. Military and robotics developers predict that robots as fully capable as human soldiers will start to appear on the battlefield sometime between the years 2025 to 2035. This will undoubtedly mark a pivotal point in human history. The next war, claims Singer, could be fought partly by robots that respond to spoken commands in plain English and then figure out on their own how to get the job done.

When war becomes too easy

War is hell -- well, at least it's been that way in the past. Democratic governments and their citizens have had to be extremely careful about entering into costly and emotionally wrenching conflicts. But Singer now worries that unmanned systems represent the ultimate break between the public and its military:
With no draft, no need for congressional approval (the last formal declaration of war was in 1941), no tax or war bonds, and now the knowledge that the Americans at risk are mainly just American machines, the already falling bars to war may well hit the ground. A leader won’t need to do the kind of consensus building that is normally required before a war, and won’t even need to unite the country behind the effort. In turn, the public truly will become the equivalent of sports fans watching war, rather than citizens sharing in its ­importance.
Given this kind of scenario, cheap and costless unmanned wars would significantly lessen political repercussions. Singer argues that this is a frightening prospect and that it would "pervert the whole idea of the democratic process and citizenship as they relate to war." His fear is that, when a citizenry has no sense of the horrors and true cost of war, they will choose to go to war like any other policy decision, "weighed by the same calculus used to determine whether to raise bridge tolls." Public engagement will turn to indifference and titillation over all the war-porn on YouTube.

Singer's prognosis is grim:
When technology turns war into something merely to be watched, and not weighed with great seriousness, the checks and balances that ­undergird democracy go by the wayside. This could well mean the end of any idea of democratic peace that supposedly sets our foreign-policy ­decision ­making ­apart.
We're heading down a very strange and treacherous path.

Guest Blogger: Russell Blackford: Freedom of religion (belief, conscience, and worship). Part 2.

In the circles where I "move" on the internet, there is much celebration of the fact that this year is Darwin's 200th birthday and the 150th anniversary of the publication of On the Origin of Species. I hope there are other circles where they're celebrating a book that's almost as important and was published in the same year: On Liberty, by John Stuart Mill. Mill still has a lot to teach us.



Before I get to that, allow me to recap from last time. In Part 1., I offered an account of what freedom of religion does and what it is — at its core. It has two limbs:

(1) The state will not attempt to impose religion, including religious doctrines, ceremonies or other practices of worship, or religious moral teachings, on those who do not accept the religion concerned; and

(2) The state will not attempt to suppress any religion, including its doctrines, practices, etc.



What the freedom doesn't do: recap

Where left off, I made the point that there are limits to what is provided by the two limbs of freedom of religion. There is no requirement that the adherents of one religion should cease to regard the doctrines of other religions as pernicious (or worse). Mardukites may have a doctrine that Zeusism is a lie and deception spread in the service of an evil spirit — and they are perfectly free to think this and express it, so long as they don't resort to violence or otherwise break the general law.

Nothing about freedom of religion suggests that religious sects or their adherents are "nice", or that they must become so.

Laws of general application

In relation to limb (2), as above, I must also add this. Everyone must obey the general law. Even religious organisations are bound by laws of general effect that are enacted for legitimate secular reasons, rather than for the purpose, or with a primary effect, of suppressing a religion. If such "religion-blind" laws are otherwise justified (e.g. because they are necessary for some larger economic purpose or to prevent people harming each other), they are not illegitimate merely because they have an incidental effect of hindering the practice of a religion's ceremonies or morality.

John Locke would have had no difficulty with this. In writing about religious toleration when the idea was new, he gave as an example that the the state may not, in pursuit of its own religious doctrine or its wish to suppress a religion, forbid the sacrifice of calves. (Compare the outcome in Church of Lukumi Babalu Aye v. City of Hialeah, 508 U.S. 520 (1993). If you've never read this fascinating case, you really must.) The state may, however, forbid the slaughter of all cattle if there is some independent secular reason:

But if peradventure such were the state of things, that the Interest of the Commonwealth required all slaughter of Beasts should be forborn for some while, in order to the increasing the stock of Cattel, that had been destroyed by some extraordinary Murrain; Who sees not that the Magistrate, in such a case, may forbid all his Subjects to kill any Calves for any use whatsoever? Only 'tis to be observed, that in this case the Law is not made about a Religious, but a Political matter: nor is the Sacrifice, but the Slaughter of Calves thereby prohibited.

Well said, Mr Locke! But here it's worth noting that Locke may not have been completely consistent. He evidently saw no difficulty in laws that banned certain (allegedly) immoral conduct such as sexual promiscuity, though he did not support banning whatever might be described by religion as a sin. He didn't inquire as to whether this was entirely consistent, or whether the imputation of immorality might itself be based on contestable religious doctrines. Perhaps, however, he thought that rules relating to sexual morality were necessary for social survival (which may have been more plausible in his time than today). If we look at it that way, his position wasn't very far from Mill's.

In any event, the range of laws that are likely to have such unwanted incidental effects on the practice of religion will be relatively small, provided the state takes the Millian harm principle seriously. So much public policy goes wrong because Mill's principle is ignored, then people look for ways of putting the blame elsewhere. Without invoking anything as strong as the harm principle, Locke made a similar point. It won't, he said, be often that a law with a legitimate, religion-blind secular purpose will actually harm anyone's religious practices: "if Government be faithfully administered, and the Counsel of the Magistrate be indeed directed to the publick Good, this will seldom happen."

Unfortunately, the analysis I've just given is controversial. It is often not accepted by religious organisations, which misinterpret the idea of freedom of religion to include a special right for religion to be free of legitimate, religion-blind general laws that apply to everyone else. This can be observed in the furore that followed a leading American case, Employment Div., Ore. Dept. of Human Res. v. Smith (494 U.S. 872 (1990)), in which the Supreme Court adopted the same view as Locke, in holding that it was not lawful for the banned drug peyote to be used in Native American religious ceremonies. I submit that the case was correctly decided in principle.

Much outrage followed this case, and it is fashionable to criticise it. And indeed, I don't support every comment that was made by Justice Scalia. But, once again, this is a case that I want everyone to be familiar with because the issues are currently so important. How should religion, society, and the law relate to each other? What was seldom noticed in the row that followed Smith was that the law was a bad one, not because it violated the concept of religious freedom but because it violated the harm principle. If the law concerned had banned a harmful practice (harmful in Mill's sense, which does not count self-induced harms), such as murder, it would be freaking obvious that no religious organisation had grounds for complaint (freedom of religion would not give a neo-Aztec cult permission to engage in the practice of human sacrifice).

Thus, the state may forbid such activities as human sacrifice and honour killings by enforcing religion-blind laws that forbid murder. The law against human sacrifice may have the incidental effect of impairing the exercise of, say, a neo-Aztec cult. But no one can complain: if the Act has a good, secular, religion-blind justification (applying, say, the Millian harm principle), then the state can require that religious devotees conform with it, along with everyone else.

If, in addition to enforcing the general law against murder, the state wishes to suppress the cult itself, or certain doctrines or practices that can't be controlled by religion-blind laws of general application, it will need to provide some compelling justification. But that's never ruled out. Even the most important freedoms, such as freedom of speech and freedom of religion, are not absolute. We should think very long and hard, indeed, before we introduce laws that abridge these freedoms, but in the end it may sometimes be necessary for an even more fundamental purpose such as to prevent substantial secular harms that can't be prevented in other practical way.

There's still a bit more to say, so I'm going to change plans and put some of it off for a Part 3. See you soon.


Russell Blackford is an Australian philosopher. He has published extensively (novels, short stories, academic monographs and articles, and book reviews) and is editor-in-chief of The Journal of Evolution and Technology. His home blog is Metamagician and the Hellfire Club.