Even though it seems sadistic to believe that cancer is for the best, I personally believe that it is the most rational conclusion that can be made. How could this be so? When a child gets cancer, what happens? They feel terrible pain, they become wearier and wearier with every additional chemotherapy treatment. In the worst cases, the children die. Leaving mothers to mourn the child they birthed, fathers to think of what could have been, brothers and sisters sit, idle, silent, bored. They yearn for the return of the only constant in their ever-changing play-time games, their sibling. That yearning is insatiable, for the return is impossible. For good reason though. The sooner everyone stops crying about it, the greater the effect of cancer on society. Cancer is harmful, sure; but most of all, it’s happiness inducing.
It’s a real shame people cry about it. People are so closed-minded. Whenever I bring it up at dinner parties, “I think children should be given cancer”, I receive looks, in fact, piercing stares, of hostility. So hostile they are, that, perhaps without even knowing it, they capitulate their moral requirement to listen impartially, and in doing so become a judgementalist. Why am I accused of being so devilish before I’m given an opportunity to express my point? I admitted that does sound sadistic, but despite that knee-jerk reaction, I’ve come to the same conclusion over and over again: Kid’s should be given cancer. Not all kids, just some. They may even be chosen, selected specifically for the task. I think I could choose them. I know a fair bit about the world and the people within it.
I’m a utilitarian, one who believes perfect rationality is possible, and that I possess it. Arrogance? Yes. The truth? Yes. Hypocritical? Certainly not. A utilitarian does what is best, unconcerned with the appearance of the action. There is only one right course of action (or inaction) when it comes to the question of giving or not giving children cancer. By now, you’re probably just as angry as every person I’ve ever mentioned this plan to. Though, you have made it this far, maybe you do possess an ability to reason above all others.
Let’s look at a few scenarios, of an individual cancer-ridden child:
1. The child beats the cancer.
Hallelujah! God has come to our aid! Our prayers have been answered. The wonders of modern medicine and scientific inquiry have once again proven to be worth every dollar of investment! Oh, how good I feel to have contributed to such a buoyant atmosphere. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” they say! This child is stronger than ever! No amount of playing with friends outside for 12 months is able to replace this journey through torturous pain. The highs are higher with lower lows.
2. The cancer beats the child.
Damn it! “Your despicable plan fails right here, even if the reasons for scenario #1 check out!” I hear you announce triumphantly. You are so quick to make judgements. Slow down, think with me. The cancer, while it only physically affects the one child, it affects so many more. Upon diagnosis, the waves of sorrow crash against everyone who hears the news, slowly eroding any sense of a higher good. Why them? Why him? Why her? Why anyone? They cry tears of sympathy and fear, maybe even anger. No consolation is granted by answers to the stream of “why’s”.
It’s very sad. Very sad that you still cannot see past these emotional spikes. It’s a shame the human brain responds to emotional spikes out of proportion to ordinary emotional zigzagging. While family and friends may be gloomier for the duration of the fight with cancer, they are not killed by it. Thus, they are stronger for it. They are stronger, and so are the bonds between each and every person in the support network. Imagine Christmas parties, larger and more convivial than they would have been otherwise. Even through the banalities, having more people to support you through minor setbacks is never a bad thing. These effects last until death too. A 40+ year upside against a one year downside. Sure, the one year is more painful than any one year of additional happiness, but you could breakeven in the 10 years of extra happiness. That’s 30 years of happiness that approximately 50-100 would not have experienced, traded for approximately 60 years of one person’s average-happiness life. Also, all the stuff about family bonding is applicable to scenario #1 too.
Why not just give people cancer and let them all survive? It defeats the purpose doesn’t it. If you know you’re going to live, it’d be just a drawn out stubbing of the toe. No one really cares if you stub your toe, not enough to form stronger family bonds. A balance has to be achieved to maximise utility between #1 and #2. #1 is obviously more desirable, but it’s only more desirable if scenario #2 is a likely enough occurrence to make scenario #1 miraculous enough to tip the scales of utility to the positive side.
A monster you say? I can’t be. You’ve even called me omni-benevolent. That’s why I’ll forgive you for calling me a monster.
I am God, after all.
