David Benatar's "Better Never to Have Been" -- Underappreciated Philosophy?

I received the following anonymous submission today:

I found out about the book I'd want to suggest via a SEP entry, so there is at least some attention to it in the field. Still, I'm suggesting it for a post because I think it does not get the attention (neither the appreciation nor the criticism) it deserves. It's called "Better Never To Have Been" by Prof. David Benatar of Cape Town. Its central claim is that being born is a considerable harm to every person that is born. In a nutshell (and in my words) I would summarize his central argument as follows: Absence of suffering is always a good thing, even if there is no being that experiences the absence. But absence of pleasure is only a bad thing if there is a being capable of experiencing the absence. Considering that there is always some suffering in the life of every being capable of experiencing it, a world in which no such beings exist is always morally better than a world in which some exist.

I would like to see more discussion about this book, mainly because I myself am not sure if any of it holds water. Neither do I know what it implies if Benatar is right (or if he's wrong, for that matter).

As someone who has read Benatar's book, I'd like to second this submission. Although I recall being unconvinced by an argument or two, on the whole I found Benatar's book fascinating and persuasive. If Benetar is right -- and I am very much persuaded that he may be (see below) -- it is always morally wrong to have children. The book is notable not only for defending such a provocative conclusion, but for doing a damn good job of it.

A few remarks on the book's arguments. First, Benetar argues forcefully (in my opinion) that common arguments for its being better to live a human life than never to live at all -- for instance, that the good of a human life tends to outweigh the bad, that we tend to want to live rather than die, etc. -- all fail. If I recall correctly (I read the book a while ago), there is plenty of evidence that (1) there is significantly more bad (suffering) than good (happiness) in most human lives, and (2) the mere fact that people don't want to die is no evidence at all that it is good to live: the best explanations of why we want to live are (A) the sunk-cost fallacy (human beings tend not to want to quit things they have invested time and energy in), and (B) a natural, evolutionarily-implanted desire to live (which is no evidence of actual value in a human life, just a nearly-unavoidable, irrational, implanted desire to not die). Second, Benetar argues that even if some human lives have more good than bad, it is morally wrong to have children when the probabilities favor the opposite (most human lives have more bad than good).

Part of what I find so persuasive about Benatar's book is his claim that if we are honest with ourselves -- if we are openminded, rather than merely reactive -- the claims he is making about human lives are, well, pretty obvious. And I have to say that, when I am honest with myself, it seems to me that the claims he makes are, if not obviously true, then at least very plausible. For when I think honestly about my life, and the lives of people I know, I see what he sees. Look, I've been pretty darn lucky in life. I've had good parents, was raised well, was lucky enough to be born into the most wealthy and powerful nation on earth...and yet, it seems to me that my life has had significantly more pain and disappointment than happiness. Yes, I have had some incredible moments of happiness: getting married, getting my PhD, publishing my first article. But these were but a few moments of intense joy over the course of several decades. Life's disappointments have been far greater in number and more permanent in severity.  There are daily stresses, of course. Daily life often has more difficulties and worries than joy.  Then there are things like grief over the death of loved ones -- kinds of pain and suffering that almost never fade. Then there are the many, "What ifs?" -- things one could have done but didn't -- as well as ordinary mistakes in life (which cannot be changed, and profoundly affect one's life prospects; I myself have many regrets). And of course all of our lives will end in tragedy: with death, often painful death. And again, I am one of the (very) lucky ones.

Then there are the unlucky among us: people who suffer from mental or physical illnesses through no fault of their own, people who suffer profoundly bad luck (think: families of 9/11 victims or everyday victims of violent crime, people whose children die as a result of accidents), and so on. I have known some of these people, and have seen (and in some cases, shared) their suffering.

In short, when I am being honest with myself, Benatar's basic point seems right: although some small percentage of human beings may live truly charmed lives -- living their hopes and dreams -- human life, for most of us, is really quite dreadful on the whole, containing far more pain, disappointment and suffering than joy. We have all kinds of ways of rationalizing our lives to ourselves: ways of trying to convince ourselves that our lives are pretty good. But again, when I am honest with myself, all of the apologies for life realy do ring hollow to me. And insofar as they do, Benatar's argument persuades me: I am not sure at all that it is morally permissible to have children. What gives me, or anyone else, a moral right to take such chances with the life of another? What gives me, or anyone else, a right to bring into the world a human being whose life is likely to contain significantly more bad than good? 

Comments

[Marcus Arvan]

Excellent comment, Roman. I think you've expressed Benatar's argument as clearly and persuasively as possible. But of course the asymmetry still seems more than a bit weird, no? Yes, you're bringing a child into the world who will suffer -- a bad for the child -- but the child is likely to experience a good deal of good *once* in existence. I know that Benatar wants the argument turn on the fact that it's impossible for anything to be good for non-existent individuals, but why isn't "more good than evil" for an *existent* person good enough to justify having a child (for its sake *once* it is in existence)? This is the issue that I keep running up against.

[dan dennis]

Hi Roman

I think the asymmetry just does not get off the ground with me. I just cannot see why one would accept it (other than if one has certain prior intuitions which I don’t have).

Without the asymmetry one has no problem. Either one says, prior to having the child, that one cannot consider the effect on the child of bringing the child into existence (because the child does not now exist so we cannot affect it). Or one says that a future state of affairs in which there exists child X and child X is suffering, is bad for child X so one should not bring this state of affairs into existence so should not bring child X into existence, and a future state of affairs in which there exists child X and child X is living a good life, is good for child X so one should bring this state of affairs into existence so should bring child X into existence.

Best wishes

Dan

[Marcus Arvan]

Dan: I have the very same problem with the argument.

[Roman]

Yeah, as I've said I agree that the asymmetry is problematic. But I also think it's important to consider Benatar's case for it--again, as he notes, most people agree with it *until* they see where it leads. So in a way, your intuitions on the matter are already clouded!

But I tend to think of the point also from my present--existing--perspective. When something bad happens, I do think--man, this wouldn't happen if I didn't exist. But when something good happens, if I think about it, I think "sure, if I didn't exist this wouldn't have happened to me, but I wouldn't care, so it wouldn't be a loss." So at least in my case, I think the asymmetry is pretty solidly lodged. But I am uncomfortable with starting the entire argument on the basis of the asymmetry without providing a grounding for it. For what it's worth, though, to me it seems about as solid as virtually any other moral intuition I can think of. The difference being, perhaps, that I can see on evolutionary/cultural grounds why many of those other intuitions would make sense for me to have.

[dan dennis]

Roman, you say ‘When something bad happens, I do think--man, this wouldn't happen if I didn't exist.’ I must say that I don’t have this thought – and I don’t think that the intuition you refer to as 'solid' as at all solid – so it may be that the divergence in intuitions starts here.