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this case, acting as he thinks he ought to act has negative consequences for Eric’s
overall wellbeing. Eric decides to strive to care less about others’ misfortune.
It is plausible that the ability to modify or biomedically affect the moral sphere will
lead to enhancement guided by non-moral considerations. Moral-disenhancement
may occur on a relatively small scale and be a matter of individual choice, as in the
hypothetical case of Eric, but it might also happen on a larger scale and in the
context of institutionally implemented policies. For example, a large number of
soldiers suffer post-combat trauma. Post-traumatic stress disorder can have severely
disabling effects and make the transition into post-military life challenging. This
problem has
enjoyed increased attention, yet remains to be addressed (Brewster,
2014; Hattenstone and Allison, 2014). Moreover, the cluster of PTSD symptoms
related to hyperarousal was shown to be significantly associated with violent
offending (MacManus et al., 2013).
Given the personal and social burden of PTSD on military personnel, it is possible
to imagine an intervention that targets emotional reactions to others’ distress and
harm as a preventative intervention. This kind of intervention is highly speculative,
but not implausible. Military training,
just like medical training, necessitates the
ability to effectively function in the presence of others’ distress. However, while we
generally see doctors’ actions as aiming at alleviating the suffering of others and
acting in their interest, at least some military tasks involve the purposeful infliction
of harm on others. Even if harm to others is justified (e.g. happens in the context of
just war), one can argue that removing ‘emotional breaks’ can lead to poor moral
outcomes and negatively affect the ability of the military personnel to be moral
agents. Thus, one can raise the question of whether moral dis-enhancement of
agents, even if done in the context of a just cause, is ethically permissible.
This question is not limited to biomedical means. Current military training may
involve selectively reducing the disposition to empathise with others (e.g. via
dehumanization of the enemy) and alleviating moral distress via reframing (e.g.,
framing an issue in the form of as a matter of a morally justified fight). Some
authors
argue that by necessity, soldiers depersonalise both themselves and the
enemy to control the emotions that arise while witnessing deaths and killing other
27
human beings (Bartov, 1992; Ben-Ari, 1998; Nadelson 2005). A US soldier
stationed in 2007 in Baghdad described this emotional detachment as follows:
‘If there’s one thing about being in a war zone it is this
. . .
the level
and intensity of the carnage that I’ve seen is unparallel to anything I
will ever experience again in my life
. . .
. But like all things in life,
you become desensitized and used to what you see. That is sadly the
point in my life where I am. Seeing another dead body, or executed
Iraqi or whatever no longer has an effect on me. Nothing
. . .
cold
nothingness. (Eddie, 2007)
Ben-Ari (1998) has argued that although depersonalisation
is inevitable in war, it
turns into dehumanisation when the enemy comes to be seen as a demon. In such
cases excessive and unnecessary violence becomes justified as morally right.
According to Bartoy (1992), this happened between US and Japanese, and German
and Soviet troops during World War Two. Robben (2012) argued that a similar
process took place in the Iraq War where ‘[t]he hajjis, habibs, ragheads, and sand
niggers were the enemy, and they were not thought of with a shred of humanity’
(Key, 2007, p. 51). Robben argues that the dehumanising message was already
acquired in the earlier training, but subsequently reinforced by racial stereotypes
ideologically reinforced by the framing of the conflict as a war against evil and the
particular kind of combat that the American presence in Iraq involved. All of this
was conducive to unnecessary violence and killing and led, in turn, to lowering the
threshold against the mistreatment
of civilians and suspects, along with serious
violations of military ethics.
Robben argues that this has happened alongside ethical behaviour of soldiers:
‘medical care was provided to wounded insurgents, combat missions were
complemented by goodwill missions, and empathy was shown for the poor’ (2010,
p. 146). Robben (2010) states that this does not mean that the moral agency of
soldiers was undermined, with the previous quote purporting to demonstrate such
unimpaired moral agency.
Such assessment, I think, is more complex. I do not
attempt to consider all the issues related to moral agency in such situations, but
28
rather point out that biomedical means might be used to achieve a more complete
state of ‘detachment,’ complementing the more familiar ways of emotion regulation
aimed at detachment. If effective and selective enough, biomedical means could
also make it possible to achieve such a state quicker, more easily and perhaps more
completely. I think this could make a potentially significant difference in how the
combat unravels, and additionally affect the capacities that underpin the ability for
noticing and caring about others’ interests.
In such situations some capacity for appropriate emotional
reactions underpinned
by empathy and reaction to others’ distress, although no guarantee of ethical action,
might have some morally desirable effects. This is a reason why the ideology of the
Third Reich involved explicit encouragement and even duty to diminish empathetic
concern for the ‘enemy’ on top of the more traditional dehumanising techniques.
On the other hand, empathy did not prevent the great evils then, and is even less
likely to prevent great evils now – where combat becomes even more embedded in
technology and where the inflicting of harm is less and less direct.
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