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On the Morality of Killing Weka

image of weka hiding in tall grass

The Weka – one of New Zealand’s most iconic birds, after the Kiwi – has been thrust into the spotlight after a recent episode of a U.S. reality show depicted two contestants killing and eating one of the birds. The Weka – like almost all native New Zealand species – is afforded protected status, and may not be hunted, killed, eaten, or possessed. For this reason, the contestants were eliminated from the show, and received a written warning from the New Zealand Department of Conservation (DoC) – though could have also been issued a fine of up to $100,000NZ (approximately $470,000USD).

As with many New Zealand birds, weka populations have seen a drastic reduction since the arrival of European settlers and the corresponding introduction of invasive predators such as ferrets and domestic cats. Weka have subsequently been identified as a vulnerable species, and made the subject of a number of programs to bolster their populations. All of this might seem to provide a clear-cut case for the moral impermissibility of killing one of these birds. As is usually the case, however, things are far more complicated than they first appear.

Protected status notwithstanding, there might exist independent moral reasons to think that killing an animal is wrong. The most famous of these was provided by Peter Singer in his 1975 book Animal Liberation. According to Singer, the ability of animals to feel pain and pleasure (i.e., their sentience) is sufficient for them to have interests: namely, an interest in experiencing pleasure and an interest in avoiding pain. According to Singer, these interests need to be weighed against the interests of other concerned parties in our moral decision-making. It’s this kind of reasoning that underpins arguments against harming animals merely for the purposes of entertainment or cosmetic testing. It allows us to explain why it might be wrong to declaw cats or purebreed certain dogs and – in its most ambitious form – gives us reason to question our treatment of less-considered animals like fish, octopi, and maybe even insects.

The impermissibility of causing harm to an animal might also be exacerbated by that animal’s awareness of the suffering it experiences. This is a particularly acute concern in the case of  weka, who are notoriously intelligent birds. I was lucky enough to get up-close-and-personal with several weka at the Owlcatraz Native Bird and Wildlife Park in Shannon, New Zealand. They are, in the words of DoC, a “feisty” species prone to a distinctive, threatening growl – yet our guide assured us that they were not hostile towards humans, but merely harbored a “general aggression at the world.” Despite their petulance, they exhibited enormous intelligence and charisma, and we were regaled with the many ways in which they had defeated the barricades designed to keep them from attacking and killing other protected birds in the sanctuary. One particular weka had even gone so far as to refrain from eating the food it had been provided (thereby ignoring the fundamental biological urge of hunger) and using that food to lure and catch another bird for dinner.

Yet it’s precisely this behavior that may, in fact, provide moral reasons in favor of killing weka in certain limited circumstances. The tenacious and highly intelligent scavenging nature of the weka means that – in the words of DoC – they occupy a “problematic conservation niche.” While they are critically threatened on the mainland, their introduction to island colonies (a typical location for boosting the population of vulnerable species) sees other protected animals immediately put at risk. In this way, a delicate balancing act is required. While weka populations need to be maintained, they must also be limited so as not to see other species become threatened.

The weka, then, provides an example of a problem that is common in ecological preservation: in order to preserve the interests of one species, we might have to violate the interests of another. This is precisely what happens when we are forced to cull an invasive species. The challenge then becomes doing so in a way that minimizes harm to all animals involved. I’ve previously written on how this might be done in the context of feral cat populations. Is it morally preferable to prohibit the feeding of feral cats, or to poison them? Or should we instead opt for a comprehensive system of trap, neuter, and release? Finding the right answer is notoriously difficult.

The weka presents a slightly different version of the problem, since it is not an invasive species. Instead, it is the victim of invasive predation – and thus is in need of concerted conservation efforts. Yet these must be done carefully, since it, too, predates upon other species that have also been the victim of invasive predation. What this means, then, is that there might be some moral reasons in favor of killing a certain number of weka. Of course, any such program would need to be officially sanctioned and carefully managed – not merely carried out by U.S. reality show contestants ignorant of their actions. Yet the “problematic” nature of the weka – and the precarious position it holds in New Zealand’s ecosystem – show that the morality of killing weka is far more nuanced than it might first appear.

Don’t “Don’t Die”

image of businessman holding up sand in hourglass

Every night before his 8:30 bedtime, 46-year-old Bryan Johnson straps on a penis monitor in his quest for immortality. Johnson, a multimillionaire tech-bro, measures his nether region’s nocturnal activities as part of a one-man longevity experiment he’s dubbed “Project Blueprint.”

Johnson’s algorithm-driven, $2 million-per-year daily regimen includes 100+ supplements, bottles of $75 extra virgin olive oil, hours of precisely regimented exercise, three calorie-restricted vegan meals – all consumed before 11 a.m. – and the bedtime of an eight-year-old. Plus obsessive measurements of his every bodily function, including urination speed, brain function, and blood chemistry. Not to mention occasional gene manipulations, plasma transfusions, and the aforementioned penile performance monitoring. Johnson says Project Blueprint runs his life. “My mind no longer decides.”

His quest for immortality is embodied in his slogan, “Don’t Die.” And, no surprise these days, he’s got a huge flock of social media followers to whom he peddles his expensive olive oil – actually branded “Snake Oil” (wink! wink!) – along with $343 packets of pills and powders sold as the “Project Blueprint Stack.”

Let’s set aside the possibility that Johnson might be a 21st-century Silicon Valley version of a 19th-century snake oil salesman – and the issue of surrendering one’s life to an algorithm (So long, free will!) – and consider what it means to make death optional. To “Don’t Die,” to “Be Immortal.”

Immortality has been a hot topic with philosophers and theologians for millennia; eternal life, or some variation thereof, is a big selling point for lots of religions. Johnson himself recently told The New York Times, “Every religion has been trying to offer a solution to ‘Don’t die’—that’s the product they’ve generated.” But for the most part, they are not talking about actual flesh-and-blood-and-guts corporeal life everlasting. It’s more of a transcendent spiritual thing. So, what might it mean for actual human beings if we do not exit this mortal coil? If both our bods and souls live on and on and on? I see several practical and spiritual problems.

Boredom. What will we do to occupy our immortal hours? Retirees today often face this problem even with only one lifetime to complete. How many “Bucket Lists” can Immortals finish before they run out of buckets? Twentieth-century British philosopher Bernard Williams identifies this problem as “exhaustible categorical desires,” meaning the things we want to experience or accomplish in life. Williams suggests that eventually an Immortal’s lists will devolve into pointlessness and never-ending boredom.

Social hyper-stratification. At the penthouse level are the rich folks who can afford to pay for immortality (I’m looking at you, Jeff Bezos, Elon Musk, Peter Thiel, et al.), while down below are the rest of us mere mortals.  And what if the Immortals are not nice people? Let’s say, for example, Vladimir Putin or Kim Jong Un. Does humanity want to be stuck with these guys forever? Or even a few hundred years? Nope. But maybe they’ll improve with age(lessness).

Let’s imagine what these Immortals might do with themselves (see Boredom, above). Maybe they will evolve into supremely wise, transcendent god-like beings bestowing their gifts and insights on the benighted mortal populace – eternal versions of Friedrich Nietzsche’s Übermenschen. Or maybe we get a bunch of bored, cranky, jealous, frustrated Greek god-like beings who mess with mortal humans just to have something to occupy their never-ending time. (For a potential preview, see Rob Brinking’s entertaining, profanity-laced review of Olympian badassery.)

Clogging the evolutionary pipeline. With a world filling up with Immortals, there’ll be no need for replacement humans. No need for reproduction in the good old-fashioned way. Will humankind stagnate without bright, fresh new people and their ideas? How will that change our social drives, bonds, and motivations? How might this alter human adaptation as the environment changes and natural selection stops making selections?

Use of planetary or extraplanetary resources. Where will we put all these sublimely wise and/or deeply bored Immortals? Sun City-Mount Olympus eternal retirement communities? North Dakota? Outer Space? Is crowding our fragile, exhaustible planet Earth with ancients who’ve already used up their share of resources – and then some – a good idea? Maybe each one gets a “Best if Used By”  date and we periodically clean out Earth’s refrigerator and toss the expired ones into the Void.

Life extension versus life ever-lasting. While it’s tempting to poke fun at Bryan Johnson’s messianic immortality project, we should not allow one guy’s multimillion-dollar midlife crisis to keep us from seriously considering both the promises and problems of life extension. If longer lives mean healthier lives, not never-ending ones, that seems a worthy mission.

Even if physical immortality proves unattainable, as most genuine biogerontology researchers predict, prolonged life extension may be within foreseeable reach. After all, worldwide average life expectancy has more than doubled from 32 to 72 years since 1900. What if today’s average span doubles to 144 years or more? This is not unimaginable according to biogerontology researcher Richard Miller, MD.

Serious scientific research on life and health extension has been underway for several decades, including a breakthrough 1993 finding of a genetic mutation that made roundworms live twice as long. (What the experience was like for the mutant worms was not reported. Maybe they were bored.) That scientist, Cynthia Kenyan, Ph.D., now leads Calicolabs, a multibillion-dollar California research and development entity funded by Google/Alphabet; its mission: “to better understand the biology that controls aging and lifespan… and develop interventions that enable people to lead longer and healthier lives.”

Most folks would probably agree that expanding the years of healthy human vitality and postponing or eliminating suffering from declines and diseases of old age are worthwhile pursuits. And from my albeit very superficial readings in philosophy, reducing suffering is generally considered a good thing. (Unless you’re Nietzsche, who I don’t understand at all.)

So, perhaps we should give Johnson the benefit of the doubt. Go ahead and turn yourself into a one-man lab rat in service of the future of the human race.  Your N-of-1 self-experiment might not stand up to stiff scientific scrutiny. You probably won’t become immortal. But at least you’re prompting some buzz and drawing attention to the scientists doing actual life- and health-span research.  Let’s hope your algorithm-and-olive-oil-fueled antics won’t distract from the real science.

That research should yield consequences not only for individuals but for society as a whole. And those consequences – social, psychological, economic, ethical, and ecological — could be profound. We mortal humans would do well to give serious thought to what these will mean for us and the generations to come.

Presidential Immunity: Must a Leader Be Above the Law?

The Supreme Court’s July 1st decision in Trump v. United States granted the president immunity from criminal prosecution for official acts. The ruling does not explicitly define “official acts,” but suggests a broad reading for which almost every use of presidential power is, at least presumptively, official. Nor, under the ruling, can presidential acts be investigated for unlawful intent.

Some legal commentators see the decision as a disastrous expansion of executive power. For others, removal of checks on presidential power is a feature and not a bug. Yet others see the decision as formalizing protections the president practically, if not by law, already had. For many, the general principles behind the decision are overshadowed by its potential use by Trump. But the ruling extends beyond any single president, so it bears asking: what exactly is immunity and why should the president have it?

Immunity is freedom from legal accountability, either civil (lawsuits) or criminal (prosecution, fines, and jail time). For example, prosecutors enjoy absolute immunity from lawsuits concerning their role as a prosecutor, even if they act in bad faith. Other officials, such as judges, likewise enjoy absolute civil immunity when doing their job (however dishonestly or maliciously). Police enjoy qualified immunity from lawsuits, which has some qualifications for flagrant and obvious rights violations. Many disagree with these strong immunity doctrines and worry they enable abuse of power.

In the United States, almost all immunity doctrines are examples of judge-made law. They cannot be found in the text of the Constitution nor in legislation. Instead, immunity has resulted from judges interpreting the law, especially Supreme Court decisions: qualified immunity for police in 1967 (and greatly expanded in 1982), prosecutorial immunity in 1976, presidential immunity from lawsuits in 1982, and now presidential immunity from criminal proceedings in 2024.

At face value, immunity doctrines run counter to foundational principles of good democratic governance. First, it is an important element of political equality that we are all equal before the law. Second, government officials acting dangerously or maliciously should be able to be held accountable. Third, individuals harmed by the government or government officials should be able to seek legal remedy for this harm. Immunity doctrines appear to undermine these important goals (equality, accountability, and redress). It does not follow that immunity doctrines are never acceptable, but they should be carefully justified and as limited as possible to avoid undermining good democratic governance. Can presidential immunity meet this challenge?

Some claim that the president already enjoys de facto immunity – the president practically enjoys this power even if it hasn’t been formally articulated in the law. One source of support for this view comes from a 1973 memo by the Nixon administration’s Department of Justice (conveniently) asserting that sitting presidents cannot be criminally tried. Departments of Justice since have kept this view.

But even if we accept sitting presidents have immunity from criminal prosecution practically speaking, this does not provide reason to formalize it. In fact, if we accept the principles of good governance listed above, it is perhaps better to dismantle the practical immunity of the president than enshrine it into law. Still this argument – and the history it points to – potentially serves to minimize the stakes. If the president really already enjoys de facto immunity, then codifying the legal practice is but a small change. Besides, there are potentially other ways to hold presidents to account. Election and impeachment both provide means of reigning in leaders who violate norms. Do we even need the law with these safeguards in place?

Assuredly, elections provide some form of accountability. But elections make presidents answer to the electorate, as opposed to, say, the rule of law. There is also a longstanding ethical concern in democracies referred to as “tyranny of the majority.” While we generally want democracies to be representative, there needs to be certain safeguards to prevent the majority from running rampant with popular support and trampling minority rights (a topic I’ve previously discussed). There are also practical problems. First, elections occur only once every few years. But perhaps more importantly, elections can be corrupted. In order for elections to act as a check on presidential actions, there must be robust protections for free and fair elections, otherwise a politician could undermine the very system which holds them to account.

Impeachment, on the other hand, is more immediate and solves some of the practical problems with elections as a form of accountability. However, like a failed election, the result of a successful impeachment is merely removal from office. While this helps to prevent abuse of the office, it does not deliver justice for wrongs done. Impeachment, by itself, still holds the president above the law.

Ultimately, both answers – impeachment and elections – share an obvious problem: Why can’t we have both these mechanisms and civil/criminal responsibility? For example, if you steal from your work, you can be both fired and prosecuted for stealing. The existence of one form of accountability does not speak against having others.

What is needed, then, is an argument decisively in favor of presidential immunity. Perhaps immunity is vital for effective function of the executive, keeping them independent and ensuring they act decisively? The Supreme Court deployed this reasoning both when rendering the president immune from lawsuits in 1982 and in their most recent decision on criminal immunity. The core idea is that if the president is constantly worried about being sued or prosecuted, then they may not act as boldly and unhesitatingly as the situation demands.

It is undoubtedly true that lawsuits and prosecution are checks on behavior. However, in most cases, we take this to be a good thing. Surgeons, for example, are required to take decisive action. Would, would we prefer a world in which they are immune from lawsuits and criminal prosecution? Certainly, there can be excess (many would allege that medicine has gone too far with malpractice lawsuits), but it does not follow that the only solution to excessive lawsuits is immunity.

Still, one might argue that the president is especially visible and their decisions impact many people – they are perhaps uniquely vulnerable to fears of a paralyzing flood of litigation. Perhaps if the Supreme Court made clear the president was not immune to lawsuits, the floodgates would open.

But even if we accept this chain of logic and assert that the president needs to be immune to lawsuits, the reasoning does not apply to criminal (as opposed to civil) immunity. While lawsuits are initiated by individuals, prosecutions are almost always initiated by government officials. Why should a president require that sort of protection? If the fear is possible corruption in the Department of Justice, then that demands either addressing the corruption or, at most, intervening in specific proceedings rather than granting immunity to an office.

Ultimately, presidential immunity is an extravagant solution with enduring consequences. At best it’s an overreaction; at worst, it’s a gross injustice. It undermines equality before the law, political accountability, and the provision of legal remedy, all to grant one of the most powerful people in the world even more power.

Election “Facelift”: AI Candidate Stirs Controversy

image of politician wearing mask

The U.K. election has been and gone.

It brought a remarkable result, with the Labour Party securing 411 out of 650 seats in the House of Commons (HoC – the parliamentary chamber where the public votes members in). This result meant Labour became the new governing party, and Sir Kier Starmer, its leader, the new Prime Minister. This is up from a paltry 202 in the 2019 election. On the flip side, the Conservative Party lost, and lost badly. It went from being the governing party, with a vote share of 365 in 2019, to going into opposition with a 2024 result of only 121.

It is hard to convey to those outside the U.K. just how seismic this shift is. Labour has secured the largest HoC majority since Tony Blair in 1997, with only four more seats than Starmer achieved.

But it was not just the two biggest parties that had an exciting election night. The Liberal Democrats went from 11 to 72 seats. The Scottish National Party, meanwhile, were decimated, going from 48 to 9 seats. There were also notable results for the Green Party, Sinn Féin, the Democratic Unionist Party, and others, including the new party on the block, Reform UK. It is with this latest that I want to stay.

Now, to say that Reform is a new party is technically accurate. However, more accurately, the party is just the latest iteration in a long line of regenerations centered around a figurehead – Nigel Farage. In 1997, UKIP (United Kingdom Independence Party) came onto the scene. It stuck around for a while, but by the 2019 election, UKIP had become the Brexit party. Then, between 2019 and this year’s election, it had changed again into Reform UK. Farage played a decisive role in each era, although he wasn’t always front and center in the political fray. What matters most for us is that, in 2024, Reform UK, a party leaning very much to the right of the political spectrum, got the third-highest overall vote share of any party. This is despite, due to the quirk of the UK’s first past the post electoral system, only securing five seats in the HoC. Most importantly, though, is the simple fact that Reform has made a big splash on the UK electoral scene under the stewardship of the recently returned Farage.

However, because they are a new party, Reform don’t have the pedigree or (legitimate) financial resources of the likes of Labour or the Conservatives upon which to draw their membership or parliament hopefuls. Thus, their campaign has lacked some of the rigor of the older parties. Farage himself admitted this when offensive comments made by several of his parliamentary hopefuls came to light. In other words, Reform’s campaign has been rougher around the edges, and there has been less control from the center than other parties.

This lack of (at least official) oversight came to a peculiar climax in the past week when suspicion started swirling that Mark Matlock, the reform candidate for Clapham and Brixton Hill, didn’t actually exist.

The short of it is that Matlock’s campaign materials featured an AI-generated portrait. This fact slipped by largely unnoticed until July 8th, when a tweet pointed the fact out. Skepticism was fueled further by the fact that Matlock didn’t appear when the election results were announced in the constituency where he was standing; this is very unusual.

Matlock eventually revealed himself to the world in an interview on GB News. His explanation for using an AI-generated image of himself rather than an actual picture was that he didn’t have a tie in the Reform UK colors. So, he generated one instead. This is not the only notable difference, though. His AI-generated image also makes Matlock look thinner and younger, with smoother skin and a fuller head of hair. In totality, while one might see a resemblance, I think you’d be hard-pressed to say they share a strong likeness.

All this demands we ask what, if anything, is the matter with Matlock using AI in this way. Did he do something wrong?

The impact AI might have on elections and trust in politics has been covered greatly. The U.K. Cabinet Office released guidance intending to disrupt “the impact of disinformation campaigns, which are increasingly being created using generative AI.” And, with the run-up to the U.S. election fully underway, concerns about bad actors using AI to influence voters will only increase.

Yet, it seems self-evident that just because someone uses AI in their campaign, this doesn’t inherently make that use unethical or the campaign itself reprehensible. If all Matlock had done was take an existing picture of himself and used AI to alter the color of his tie to match Reform UK colors, this wouldn’t strike me as particularly offensive. We might think it was odd, given he could have just bought a tie, but that’s a different point.

Indeed, we are all aware of using technology to alter the way reality is portrayed, and many of us participate in it. Filters on digital images, holding cameras at specific angles to accentuate some features and hide others, or simply being tactical in what we capture all drive a wedge between reality and the way it is portrayed. And this isn’t new. Every effort to depict the world through an artistic medium inevitably means that some reality is described with more fidelity than others.

So where is the harm? Where is the wrong? Well, I think it stems from the fact that Matlock didn’t just alter the color of his tie. He tried to portray himself as someone with an entirely different appearance. Someone skinnier, younger, and with more hair. This was not an honest representation of himself, and therein lies the point.

This was an active effort to be dishonest. It was not simply a touch-up but a total fabrication. He changed how he looked, not simply by aligning himself with Reform UK’s color scheme but also by amending his entire appearance.

Now, you might think that this shouldn’t matter. After all, what counts is not how politicians look but how they act and what they do. Whether they are old, bold, fat or thin doesn’t matter. What matters is that they do what is right for their constituents. And I would agree. However, honesty is one of the most important qualities one wants in their leaders – without it, you lose trust, and trust is fundamental. Just look at what brought down the last three Conservative Prime Ministers.

What Matlock did, then, undermined the public’s ability to trust him. After all, if he can’t be honest about how he looks – something fundamental to him as a person and obviously something he can’t hide – then how can we trust him to be honest about something more substantial?

In the end, while concern about AI’s impact might currently focus on those looking to spread disinformation or subvert the electoral process, we shouldn’t overlook the more insipid usage of it to make people look, for lack of a better word, more attractive.

Restorative Duties to Asylum Seekers

image of immigrants in silhoutte

In a previous article on the Post, Evan Arnett considers whether the U.S. might be morally obligated to admit more asylum seekers. This follows recent Biden administration policies which place greater restrictions on who can be granted asylum. Ultimately, Arnett concludes that the human rights of asylum seekers deserve priority in our decision making, so our policies cannot merely rely on cost-benefit analysis.

Arnett’s argument raises an important consideration which public discussions often overlook. Morally speaking, we may often owe someone aid even if providing this aid ultimately comes at some cost to ourselves. Doing the right thing may often require a sacrifice.

When considering the morality of our immigration policies, however, we should probe even deeper. We ought to consider the human rights of asylum seekers, yes. But we should also consider the historical context of how their plight arose. This investigation may dramatically shift our answers to both who owes aid and how much aid is owed.

Consider this example. A friend and I, driving separate cars, come across a stranded driver on the roadside. Unfortunately, she blew out a tire and lacks a spare. Further, there is no cell phone service, so we cannot call a tow truck. Fortunately, my friend and I are able to tow her vehicle. Who should help the stranded driver? One of us should but it is unclear who. Perhaps we should flip a coin.

But let’s change some details. Suppose that I was hauling several pieces of furniture down this road yesterday. One fell out during my trip, but I only realized this after reaching my destination. The stranded driver mentions that her tire blew out when she hit a piece of furniture she could not avoid. Presumably, it was the piece that fell from my car.

It seems like the history of this situation changes who should help the driver. Since I caused her problem, I should be the one to help her, or at least make a bigger sacrifice than my friend in helping her.

It is a basic principle of justice that when someone creates a problem, one has a greater duty to resolve it. If one cannot resolve the problem themselves, they ought to contribute more than others who did not play the same causal role. This principle often emerges in the context of climate justice debates under the name the “polluter pays principle.” For our purposes, let us call it the “restoration principle” – the idea that when your actions play a contributory role to harming someone, you have an obligation to aid them even if this comes at some cost.

Why does the restoration principle matter to immigration and asylum seeking? To demonstrate this, we must first consider the nations from which those seeking asylum in the U.S. flee. According to the U.S. Department of Homeland Security, of the five most common points of origin for refugees who entered the U.S. between 2020 and 2022, 24.2% arrived from the Congo, 17.8% from Burma, 16.3% from Ukraine and 5.1% from Afghanistan. But an important distinction is necessary here. A refugee is someone who has been legally approved for entry, while an asylum seeker is still seeking approval. When we consider asylum seekers, a different pattern emerges. The five most common points of origin from 2020-2022 were as follows: 24.2% from Venezuela, 9% from Guatemala, 6.5% from Honduras, 5.8% from El Salvador and 5.4% from Haiti. The difference is striking. Of the five most common points of origin for asylum seekers, only El Salvador and Guatemala are in the top ten for most common points of origin for refugees. Thus, although asylum seekers from these nations are most common, they are rarely admitted.

Do we have moral reason to change these policies? As the stranded driver example suggests, the history of one’s relationship to the harmed individual shapes one’s duty to aid. We should thus consider the (at least recent) history between the U.S. and nations from which asylum seekers most frequently originate.

I can’t recount the history of the U.S.’s relationships with all five of these nations in a single article. Instead, let us investigate a bit about recent history between the U.S. and Venezuela – currently the most common origin point of asylum seekers arriving. (I do, however, strongly encourage you to look further into the U.S.’s foreign policy towards Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador and Haiti.)

Following the death of long-time leader Hugo Chávez, Nicholas Maduro was narrowly elected president of Venezuela in 2013. But in 2014 Venezuela rapidly fell into an economic crisis. Chávez maintained popularity during his presidency through numerous social welfare programs funded by the nation’s publicly owned massive oil reserves. But when the price of oil plummeted in 2014, the Venezuelan government’s refusal to reduce their budget deficit led to hyperinflation – inflation has at least doubled every year since 2014. In 2015, Maduro was granted the power to rule via decree, purportedly to enable him to take swift measures to address the economy. Maduro has held this power ever since. In 2017, Maduro called for an election to determine who would serve as members of the constituent assembly tasked with rewriting the Venezuelan constitution. But at least one company involved in administering the election claims the results were falsified. Since then, Maduro has solidified his base of power within the government and maintained tight control over Venezuela.

Today, the Venezuelan people live in crisis. According to Human Rights Watch, as of 2023, over 72% of the population are unable to access public health services, and 65% have lost their means of livelihood. Leaders of opposition groups are often declared ineligible to run for office, and the Supreme Court has appointed those amenable to Maduro as leaders of formally-recognized opposition parties. Further, political opponents are routinely jailed, and pro-government groups have been accused of torturing, and even executing, dissidents. Additionally, Maduro’s government has begun to encroach territory controlled by neighboring Guyana, sparking fears of armed conflict.

In an effort to oust Maduro, the U.S. government began to exercise significant economic pressure under the Trump administration, implementing a set of economic sanctions against the Venezuelan government and those who do business with it. Although the Biden administration lifted some sanctions in hopes of encouraging free elections, they reimposed sanctions on the state mining company in January and the state oil company in April. These sanctions, however, may have exacerbated the present crisis. Although the sanctions included humanitarian exceptions, the damage done to the Venezuelan economy likely made it more difficult for the most vulnerable citizens to meet their basic needs. Michelle Bachelet, the UN Human Rights Chief, spoke out against the sanctions, claiming that they worsened the human rights situation in Venezuela. Historian Marc Becker argues that the sanctions imposed by the Trump administration were intentionally designed to create desperation in the populace, in order to spark revolution. So, there’s a plausible case to be made that U.S. actions harmed the citizens of Venezuela by contributing to the situation from which many are fleeing. While these policies did not create their plight, they very well may have worsened it.

Of course, my claim here is not that these sanctions were unjustified or inappropriate. One might think that the sanctions were, in fact, justified but nonetheless failed to achieve their goal and, as a result, produced worse outcomes. To use an old adage, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

So, what does this relationship between Venezuela and the U.S. imply for asylum seekers? As argued earlier, the restoration principle holds that when your actions contribute to harm that another is experiencing, you have a greater duty to aid them. Given the restoration principle, and the contributions U.S. policy has made to the plight of Venezuelan citizens, we have powerful reason to believe that current U.S. policy regarding asylum seekers falls short of the standard we ought to meet. According to the DHS data cited earlier, over 80 thousand Venezuelans sought asylum in the U.S. in 2022 alone; fewer than 500 were admitted. The principle of restoration implies that we should be doing far more to aid those fleeing Venezuela than we currently are, even if doing so comes at some sacrifice to us.

Yet this argument need not imply that every asylum seeker must be admitted. Indeed, there are many practical factors to consider – what resources we have available, how these asylum seekers can be best integrated into their local communities, and how they can be enabled to flourish in the U.S. – that may determine how many seekers can be admitted. Regardless, the moral calculus ought not be limited to just these facts. We should also aim to fulfill the duties of restoration that we have towards asylum seekers, given the historical role of American policy in contributing to their plight. What we owe to others depends, in part, on how our choices have affected them in the past.

Naming Names: Should Canada Reveal Potential Traitors?

silhouette of Canadian parliament

The ongoing foreign interference scandal in Canada has taken another surprising turn.  Last month, a parliamentary committee released a redacted report indicating that some MPs have “wittingly” assisted in providing confidential information to foreign actors – working on behalf of India and China – and relayed privileged information that might be used to manipulate their fellow parliamentarians. The accusations are serious enough to be considered treason. The dilemma now facing Canadian politicians is whether these names should be made public. What might be the risks to democracy and the rule of law?

The issue of foreign interference has been festering for some time. There have already been personal reports from MPs themselves – such as Micheal Chong and Jenny Kwan – that have revealed Chinese attempts to intimidate and harass. In 2019, the Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS) reportedly warned officials in the Liberal Party about attempts to influence candidates but these alerts were ignored by the party. It is also known that China successfully interfered (although not enough to change the results) in the 2019 and 2021 federal elections in order to help secure a Liberal minority government. In response to calls for an official judicial inquiry into foreign interference, readers may recall that Prime Minister Trudeau delayed the process for months by making up the title of “Special Rapporteur” and designating David Johnson – who at first concluded there ought to be no inquiry before resigning after widespread concerns about his conclusions and an obvious conflict of interest. A judicial inquiry has since been called; however the government has largely refused to cooperate.

Many are now trying to figure out what to do with the little information we do have from this separate parliamentary investigation. On one side is the camp of people who believe that it would be improper to release the names of the suspected traitors to the public until a more thorough investigation can begin. Releasing the names or any other details about the investigation would represent a national security threat in revealing methods of intelligence gathering. Beyond this, the argument against releasing the names seems to largely hinge in the idea of some notion of due process and concerns about reputations. Canada has a complicated history with national intelligence and since the 1980s has separated intelligence gathering and policing, creating a gap between intelligence and evidence, making it difficult to use intelligence as evidence in court. As the deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs recently put it, “intelligence is not truth.”

The fact that official investigations have yet to take place, with no indication that any charges or legal indictments being issued, makes some concerned that releasing the names runs the risk of the process descending into chaos with people being branded without due process of the law. As Green Party Leader Elizabeth May recently stated, “There’s no reason to create an atmosphere of McCarthyism.”

There is also a concern that allegations of being a traitor would irreparably damage an MP’s reputation. As one minister put it, “The obvious potential reputational damage a person might suffer if there’s another side of the story, that must be considered.” Another Liberal MP claims, “Somebody’s career could be totally ruined by a frivolous accusation or a comment…I think that if somebody gets charged, absolutely, OK, there you go. But until that time, let’s be careful but let’s be thorough.”

On the other hand, there are also risks with not releasing the names. For example, among those politicians who have read the unredacted report, the public has heard radically different reactions. Green Party Leader Elizabeth May was “relieved” after reading the report, claiming that there is no list of disloyal MPs. Meanwhile, NDP Leader Jagmeet Singh claimed to be “more concerned than ever” after reading the report and stated that the report shows that “a number of MPs” helped foreign states and are “traitors to the country.” What is the public supposed to make of all this?

Certainly it’s true that voters won’t be waiting on legal proceedings to make up their minds if a list gets released. And it would be ideal if we could preserve both the rule of law while also ensuring that voters can be confident in casting their ballot – like, say, knowing whether their MP might be a traitor to the country. Stifling any doubt about the integrity of Canadian elections will be paramount. Even the perception (regardless of the facts) may be damning. If voters cannot trust the process or the candidates, trust in the government, democracy, and the law are bound to suffer.

There is, of course, the risk that potentially innocent MPs have “their reputations unfairly smeared,” and this could real damage – political or otherwise. Though it isn’t as if politicians don’t face false accusations on a regular basis or shy away from unfair attacks on people’s reputations. Besides, the risk of re-electing a traitor may very well be more significant than the risk to a few political careers. Which would you rather be wrong about? We should note that McCarthyism featured vague accusations about affiliations with communism and “unAmerican” activities among bureaucrats and cultural figures. By contrast, the present situation concerns a specific set of elected individuals accused of specific acts that threaten to subvert the people’s will.

It also doesn’t help that there is already mistrust about the motivations of the Trudeau administration when it comes to the issue of foreign interference. They have been accused often of not taking the issue seriously – they have stalled efforts to investigate, withheld information from investigators, and criticized the findings of the investigations. Foreign interference has also benefited the Liberal Party at the expense of their political rivals in the not-so-distant past. Currently, Liberals will not commit to removing any MPs from their caucus if they have been found to have engaged in the activities in the report. Even if Trudeau’s government does take the issue seriously (and isn’t implicated), keeping the report a secret builds no trust. After all, what sort of politician would question the conclusions of their own intelligence organizations and call investigations of foreign interference a “witch hunt”?

While political scientists may point to Canada’s high rank on various freedom indexes, many are expressing concern about the future of Canadian democracy in general. In addition to these foreign meddling concerns, there have been a number of worrying events – the unjustified use of the emergencies act, the government’s inaction in the midst of a housing crisis, the rise of neo-feudalism. Canadian democracy is being stressed from all sides. It would be wise not to raise  the level of cynicism and distrust any further.