‘Drew! I haven’t seen you since college, twenty years ago! My God, Drew – what are you doing with that gun?’
‘I’ve come to kill you,’ said Drew, ‘just as you asked me to.’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘Don’t you remember? You said to me, many times, “If I ever vote Republican, then shoot me.” Well, I just read you’re actually a Republican senator. So you see, you must die.’
‘Drew, you’re crazy! That was twenty years ago! I was young, I was idealistic! You can’t hold me to that!’
‘It was no casual, flippant remark, senator. In fact, I have here a piece of paper, signed by you and witnessed by others, instructing me to do this. And before you tell me not to take that seriously, let me remind you that you voted for a bill recently in favour of living wills. In fact, you’ve got one yourself. Now tell me this: if you think people in the future should carry out your wish to kill you if you get dementia or fall into a permanent vegetative state, why shouldn’t I carry out your past wish to kill you if you became a Republican?’
‘I’ve got an answer to that!’ screamed the sweating senator. ‘Just give me a few minutes!’
Drew cocked her pistol and aimed. ‘You’d better be quick.’
There is a good answer to Drew’s question that the senator could give. But before we come to that, we should ask the more fundamental question of what gives us the right to make binding decisions on behalf of our future selves. The obvious answer is that since we can, of course, make decisions for ourselves, there is no reason why these shouldn’t include ourselves in the future. Indeed, we make such decisions all the time, when we sign up for twenty-five year mortgages, pension plans, to have and to hold till death us do part, or even just for a two-year work contract.
Alongside this duty to make good our promises, though, there must also surely be a concomitant right to change our minds as our circumstances and beliefs change. Many people, for example, say things that begin ‘shoot me if I ever …’, especially when young. And although it is often just a figure of speech, it is frequently said with the utmost sincerity, and often by people who are of the age of majority and so considered adults capable of making decisions about their own futures. To hold people to these vows, however, would be ridiculous.
But why, twenty years later, is it ridiculous not to punish, if not actually kill, someone for going back on their vow not to vote Republican, but reasonable to expect them to try to maintain their marriage vows? There are significant differences. A marriage vow, like a mortgage agreement, involves responsibility and commitment to a third party. If we go back on these, others suffer. If we change our minds about matters of politics or religion, however, we do not, on the whole, breach any agreement we have with others.
However, the fact that we do think it reasonable to change our minds should make us see these other long term commitments as also being less than absolute. For the plain truth is that we change. In a very real sense, we are not the same people that we were many years in the past. So when we make promises on behalf of our future selves, we are to some degree making promises for someone other than who we now are. And that means our promises should not be seen as morally binding.
How does this affect the issue of living wills? The key difference here is that these documents are there to prepare for the eventuality that no future self will be competent to make a choice. In that situation, the best qualified person to do so may well be the past self rather than a present other. That’s the answer the senator should give. Whether or not it is good enough to make Drew replace the safety catch is another matter.
See also
| 27. | Duties done |
| 44. | Till death us do part |
| 88. | Total lack of recall |
| 97. | Moral luck |