In the ethics of algorithms, a specifically epistemological analysis is rarely undertaken in order to gain a critique (or a defense) of the handling of or trust in medical black box algorithms (BBAs). This article aims to begin to fill this research gap. Specifically, the thesis is examined according to which such algorithms are regarded as epistemic authorities (EAs) and that the results of a medical algorithm must completely replace other convictions that patients have (preemptionism). If this were true, it would be a reason to distrust medical BBAs. First, the author describes what EAs are and why BBAs can be considered EAs. Then, preemptionism will be outlined and criticized as an answer to the question of how to deal with an EA. The discussion leads to some requirements for dealing with a BBA as an EA.

As biological organisms, we age and, eventually, die. However, age’s deteriorating effects may not be universal. Some theoretical entities, due to their synthetic composition, could exist independently from aging—artificial general intelligence (AGI). With adequate resource access, an AGI could theoretically be ageless and would be, in some sense, immortal. Yet, this need not be inevitable. Designers could imbue AGIs with artificial mortality via an internal shut-off point. The question, though, is, should they? Should researchers curtail an AGI’s potentially endless lifespan by deliberately making it mortal? It is this question that this article explores. First, it considers what type of AGI is under discussion before outlining how such beings could be ageless. Then, after clarifying the type of immortality under discussion and arguing that imbuing an AGI with synthetic aging would be person-affecting, the article explores four core conundrums: (i) deliberately causing a morally significant being’s death; (ii) immortality’s associated harms; (iii) concerns about immortality’s unequal assignment; and (iv) the danger of immortal AGI overlords. The article concludes that while prudence requires we create an aging AGI, in the face of the material harm such an action would constitute, this is an insufficient reason to justify doing so.

Matti Häyry presents a new ethical theory that he calls “conflict-responsive need-based negative utilitarianism.”1 In this commentary, I present my critical observations on his main points against the more general background of utilitarianism and theories of value.

Human decisions are increasingly supported by decision support systems (DSS). Humans are required to remain “on the loop,” by monitoring and approving/rejecting machine recommendations. However, use of DSS can lead to overreliance on machines, reducing human oversight. This paper proposes “reflection machines” (RM) to increase meaningful human control. An RM provides a medical expert not with suggestions for a decision, but with questions that stimulate reflection about decisions. It can refer to data points or suggest counterarguments that are less compatible with the planned decision. RMs think against the proposed decision in order to increase human resistance against automation complacency. Building on preliminary research, this paper will (1) make a case for deriving a set of design requirements for RMs from EU regulations, (2) suggest a way how RMs could support decision-making, (3) describe the possibility of how a prototype of an RM could apply to the medical domain of chronic low back pain, and (4) highlight the importance of exploring an RM’s functionality and the experiences of users working with it.

This paper discusses two opposing views about the relation between artificial intelligence (AI) and human intelligence: on the one hand, a worry that heavy reliance on AI technologies might make people less intelligent and, on the other, a hope that AI technologies might serve as a form of cognitive enhancement. The worry relates to the notion that if we hand over too many intelligence-requiring tasks to AI technologies, we might end up with fewer opportunities to train our own intelligence. Concerning AI as a potential form of cognitive enhancement, the paper explores two possibilities: (1) AI as extending—and thereby enhancing—people’s minds, and (2) AI as enabling people to behave in artificially intelligent ways. That is, using AI technologies might enable people to behave as if they have been cognitively enhanced. The paper considers such enhancements both on the level of individuals and on the level of groups.

Antinatalism is an emerging philosophy and practice that challenges pronatalism, the prevailing philosophy and practice in reproductive matters. We explore justifications of antinatalism—the arguments from the quality of life, the risk of an intolerable life, the lack of consent, and the asymmetry of good and bad—and argue that none of them supports a concrete, understandable, and convincing moral case for not having children. We identify concentration on possible future individuals who may or may not come to be as the main culprit for the failure and suggest that the focus should be shifted to people who already exist. Pronatalism’s hegemonic status in contemporary societies imposes upon us a lifestyle that we have not chosen yet find almost impossible to abandon. We explicate the nature of this imposition and consider the implications of its exposure to different stakeholders with varying stands on the practice of antinatalism. Imposition as a term has figured in reproductive debates before, but the argument from postnatal, mental, and cultural imposition we launch is new. It is the hitherto overlooked and underdeveloped justification of antinatalism that should be solid and comprehensible enough to be used even by activists in support of their work.

Rarely do everyday discussions of ethical issues invoke ethical theories. Even ethicists deploy ethical theories less frequently than one might expect. In my experience, the most powerful ethical arguments rarely appeal to an ethical theory. How is this possible? I contend that ethical argumentation can proceed successfully without invoking any ethical theory because the structure of good ethical argumentation involves leveraging a sturdy norm, where the norm is usually far more specific than a complete ethical theory. To illustrate this idea, I present the argumentative structure of five powerful articles in the ethics literature. I further argue that the present model of ethical argumentation is consistent with the coherence model of ethical justification, but the former need not--and usually should not--invoke the latter explicitly for various practical reasons.

This article explores the effects of naming and describing disability in law and medicine. Instead of focusing on substantive issues like medical treatment or legal rights, it will address questions which arise in relation to the use of language itself. When a label which is attached to a disability is associated with a negative meaning, this can have a profound effect on the individual concerned and can create stigma. Overly negative descriptions of disabilities can be misleading, not only for the individual, but also more broadly in society, if there are inaccurate perceptions about disability in the social context. This article will examine some relevant examples of terminology, where these issues arise. It will also suggest that the role of medicine and the law in naming and describing disability is particularly important because in these areas there is, perhaps more than anywhere else, a recognized source of authority for the choice of terminology. Labels and descriptions used in the medical and legal contexts can not only perpetuate existing stigmatization of disabled people, but can also contribute to creating stigma at its source, given that the words used in these contexts can constitute an exercise of power.

The model for capacity assessment in the United States and much of the Western world relies upon the demonstration of four skills including the ability to communicate a clear, consistent choice. Yet such assessments often occur at only one moment in time, which may result in the patient expressing a choice to the evaluator that is highly inconsistent with the patient’s underlying values and goals, especially if a short-term factor (such as frustration with the hospital staff) distorts the patient’s preferences momentarily. These challenges are particularly concerning in cases, which arise frequently in hospital settings, in which patients demand immediate self-discharge, often during off-hours, while faced with life-threatening risks. This paper examines the distinctive elements that shape such cases and explores their ethical implications, ultimately offering a model for such situations that can be operationalized.

The first “R” from animal research ethics prescribes the replacement of animal experiments with animal-free alternatives. However, the question of when an animal-free method qualifies as an alternative to animal experiments remains unresolved.

Drawing lessons from another debate in which the word “alternative” is central, the ethical debate on alternatives to germline genome editing, this paper develops a general account of when something qualifies as an alternative to something. It proposes three ethically significant conditions that technique, method, or approach X must meet to qualify as an alternative to Y: (1) X must address the same problem as Y, under an appropriate description of that problem; (2) X must have a reasonable chance of success, compared to Y, in solving the problem; and (3) X must not be ethically unacceptable as a solution. If X meets all these conditions, its relative advantages and disadvantages determine whether it is preferable, indifferent, or dispreferable as an alternative to Y.

This account is then applied to the question of whether animal-free research methods qualify as alternatives to animal research. Doing so breaks down the debate around this question into more focused (ethical and other) issues and illustrates the potential of the account.

In this essay, the author reflects on a decade’s old essay on baseball and bioethics inspired by a conversation with the late David Thomasma. In a reprise of his earlier paper, Fins worries that modernity has come to baseball with the advent of the pitch clock and that this innovation brings age discrimination to a timeless pastime.

Critics of medical aid in dying (MAID) often argue that it is impermissible because background social conditions are insufficiently good for some persons who would utilize it. I provide a critical evaluation of this view. I suggest that receiving MAID is a sort of “hard choice,” in that death is prima facie bad for the individual and only promotes that person’s interests in special circumstances. Those raising this objection to MAID are, I argue, concerned primarily about the effects of injustice on hard choices. I show, however, that MAID and other hard choices are not always invalidated by injustice and that what matters is whether the injustice can be remediated given certain constraints. Injustice invalidates a hard choice when it can, reasonably, be remedied in a way that makes a person’s life go better. I consider the implications of this view for law and policy regarding MAID.

There are many authors who consider the so-called “moral nose” a valid epistemological tool in the field of morality. The expression was used by George Orwell, following in Friedrich Nietzsche’s footsteps and was very clearly described by Leo Tolstoy. It has also been employed by authors such as Elisabeth Anscombe, Bernard Williams, Noam Chomsky, Stuart Hampshire, Mary Warnock, and Leon Kass. This article examines John Harris’ detailed criticism of what he ironically calls the “olfactory school of moral philosophy.” Harris’ criticism is contrasted with Jonathan Glover’s defense of the moral nose. Glover draws some useful distinctions between the various meanings that the notion of moral nose can assume. Finally, the notion of moral nose is compared with classic notions such as Aristotelian phronesis, Heideggerian aletheia, and the concept of “sentiment” proposed by the philosopher Thomas Reid. The conclusion reached is that morality cannot be based only on reason, or—as David Hume would have it—only on feelings.

The role of power in healthcare can raise many ethical challenges. Power is ownership, whether given, ceded, or taken of another person’s autonomy. When a person has power over someone else, they can control or strongly influence the decision-making freedom of that person. From the principalist perspective1,2 of healthcare ethics, denying a person their freedom to choose, should only occur when justifying conditions related to beneficence and nonmaleficence are sufficiently satisfied. In healthcare, it is rare to be able to identify situations where paternalism is justified. However, experience suggests that abusive power in healthcare is used too frequently without justifying criteria.

Xenotransplant patient selection recommendations restrict clinical trial participation to seriously ill patients for whom alternative therapies are unavailable or who will likely die while waiting for an allotransplant. Despite a scholarly consensus that this is advisable, we propose to examine this restriction. We offer three lines of criticism: (1) The risk–benefit calculation may well be unfavorable for seriously ill patients and society; (2) the guidelines conflict with criteria for equitable patient selection; and (3) the selection of seriously ill patients may compromise informed consent. We conclude by highlighting how the current guidance reveals a tension between the societal values of justice and beneficence.

In the wake of the Dobbs decision withdrawing federal constitutional protection for reproductive rights, the United States is in the throes of federalist conflicts. Some states are enacting draconian prohibitions of abortion or gender-affirming care, whereas other states are attempting to shield providers and their patients seeking care. This article explores standard arguments supporting federalism, including that it allows for cultural differences to remain along with a structure that provides for the advantages of common security and commerce, that it provides a laboratory for confined experiments, that it is government closer to the people and thus more informed about local needs and preferences, and that it creates layers of government that can constrain one another and thus doubly protect rights. We contend that these arguments do not justify significant differences among states with respect to the recognition of important aspects of well-being; significant injustices among subnational units cannot be justified by federalism. However, as nonideal theorists, we also observe that federalism presents the possibility of some states protecting rights that others do not. Assuming that movement among subnational units is protected, those who are fortunate enough to be able to travel will be able to access rights they cannot access at home. Nonetheless, movement may not be readily available to minors, people without documentation, people with disabilities, people who lack economic resources, or people who have responsibilities that preclude travel. Only rights protection at the federal level will suffice in such cases.

Teaching ethics is crucial to health sciences education. Doing it well requires a willingness to engage contentious social issues. Those issues introduce conflict and risk, but avoiding them ignores moral diversity and renders the work of ethics education irrelevant. Therefore, when (not if) contentious issues and moral differences arise, they must be acknowledged and can be addressed with humility, collegiality, and openness to support learning. Faculty must risk moments when not everyone will “feel safe,” so the candor implied in psychological safety can emerge. The deliberative and social work of ethics education involves generous listening, wading into difference, and wondering together if our beliefs and arguments are as sound as we once thought. By forecasting the need for candid engagement with contentious issues and moral difference, establishing ground rules, and bolstering due process structures for faculty and students, a riskier and more relevant ethics pedagogy can emerge. Doing so will prepare everyone for the moral diversity they can expect in our common life and in practice.

Poor health is not inherently a part of Black Americans’ bodies; poor health is not in our DNA. But as Linda Villarosa says in Under the Skin “something about being Black has led to the documented poor health of Black Americans.”1 Like many other scholars of Black health have said, Villarosa proposes, and evidence supports, that “the something is racism.”2 Villarosa attributes Black people’s generally inferior health outcomes in areas like pregnancy and birth, pain care, and cardiology to racism and not a lack of social resources such as money, education, and access to healthcare. Although not always explicitly stated in her text, the stories Villarosa uses to illustrate racism’s effects on health also demonstrate racism’s influence on who has access to the social resources that are needed to maintain health and treat illnesses. Villarosa is right that more education and more income cannot de facto give Black people better health. At the same time, we cannot ignore that although racism is the force, education, money, housing, and access to healthcare are the means by which racism adversely affects health. Education and other social goods only fail to confer better health to Black people because racism serves as a roadblock.

Current national and international guidelines for the ethical design and development of artificial intelligence (AI) and robotics emphasize ethical theory. Various governing and advisory bodies have generated sets of broad ethical principles, which institutional decisionmakers are encouraged to apply to particular practical decisions. Although much of this literature examines the ethics of designing and developing AI and robotics, medical institutions typically must make purchase and deployment decisions about technologies that have already been designed and developed. The primary problem facing medical institutions is not one of ethical design but of ethical deployment. The purpose of this paper is to develop a practical model by which medical institutions may make ethical deployment decisions about ready-made advanced technologies. Our slogan is “more process, less principles.” Ethically sound decisionmaking requires that the process by which medical institutions make such decisions include participatory, deliberative, and conservative elements. We argue that our model preserves the strengths of existing frameworks, avoids their shortcomings, and delivers its own moral, practical, and epistemic advantages.

Since its initial publication in 2018, Professor Anya Plutynski’s Explaining Cancer: Finding Order in Disorder has garnered a great deal of accolades.1 In 2021, The London School of Economics and Political Science conferred Professor Plutynski the Lakatos Award, recognizing the book’s significant contribution to the philosophy of science. On the heels of its recent reissuing as a paperback, it is an ideal time to revisit this remarkable work.