1 Introduction
The purpose of this paper is to critically discuss two arguments that William MacAskill, in making his case in favor of his own existentially unrestricted form of longtermism, outlines and seems to accept in his book What We Owe the Future.Footnote 1 Identifying the weaknesses in those two arguments opens the door to an arguably more credible form of longtermism – an existentially restricted form of longtermism.
To be more specific, MacAskill’s two arguments rely on moral principles that, I shall argue, themselves take for granted that the decades-old, Narveson-inspired, value of existence controversy is to be, and indeed must be, resolved in a particular way. We readily accept the first half of Narveson’s witticism; we’re generally in “favor of making people happy.” It’s just the second half – that “making happy people” doesn’t, on its own and without more, make things better – that decades ago quickly gave rise to the value of existence controversy, a controversy that was then, just as quickly, thought by many in the population ethics mainstream, both then and now, to have been resolved – and to have been resolved against Narveson.Footnote 2 The problem is that that particular way of resolving the value of existence controversy – we can call it the existence-insensitive way – has not itself been clearly recognized as the bare assumption that it is. We like that it’s a way of resolving the controversy that avoids both inconsistency and the violation of various conceptual principles we seem to have no choice but to accept.Footnote 3 But we can’t reasonably ignore the fact that it requires us to abandon – to try to abandon – a certain deeply felt, widely shared intuition without doing the work of loosening the hold that intuition has on us. We can’t reasonably ignore the fact that, if we accept that particular way of resolving the controversy, we may well be left confounded by our own moral theorizing – pushed, in effect, to accept positions that strike us as highly counterintuitive and even borderline irrational.
To put the point another way: rather than fully resolving the value of existence controversy, many in the population ethics mainstream, soon after Narveson triggered the controversy decades ago, began (wittingly or not) quietly to assume that the controversy is to be, and indeed must be, resolved in a particular way.Footnote 4 Identifying that assumption as mere assumption opens the door to an alternate way of resolving the controversy – an existence-sensitive way of resolving the controversy; a way of resolving the controversy within the confines of consistency as well as the conceptual principles we seem to have no choice but to accept – as well as to a more critical examination of MacAskill’s two arguments. For we are then positioned to recognize that the principles his arguments rely on work, after all, not as the solid underpinnings of an insightful resoluation of the value of existence controversy, a resolution we ourselves are compelled to accept, but rather as mere dogma.Footnote 5 Thus: the two dogmas of population ethics.
Is it really worth our time to return to the value of existence controversy when many in the population ethics mainstream consider that controversy to have been fully resolved decades ago?
I believe that it is. We should not allow ourselves to be left with the mistaken assumption that the value of existence controversy is to be, and indeed must be, resolved in a particular way if we in fact have credible, and arguably more attractive, options. Which (I believe) we do.Footnote 6
***
I’ll commence (in part 2 below) with an outline of the value of existence controversy itself as well as the particular way of resolving that controversy that many in the population ethics mainstream even now seem wholeheartedly to accept. I concede that that particular way of resolving the controversy – the existence-insensitive way – helps us make sense of the moral principles MacAskill’s two arguments rely on in making his case in favor of the existentially unrestricted form of longtermism that he favors. To make the case that that way of resolving the controversy is nonetheless not one we are independently compelled to accept but is rather just an assumption, I outline a credible alternate, existence-sensitive way of resolving the controversy. Having set that stage, we can then (in part 3 below) undertake a fresh examination of MacAskill’s two arguments and the principles they rely on. I conclude (in part 4 below) that, while we should all be longtermists, there is much to be said for the existentially restricted form of longtermism over the existentially unrestricted form that MacAskill prefers.
2 The value of existence controversy
In general, maximizing consequentialists accept some robust form or another of what MacAskill calls “longtermism.” Though I don’t accept the traditional total form of maximizing consequentialism – that is, totalism – I do accept, and assume correct for purposes here, many among the most basic tenets of maximizing consequentialism.Footnote 7
Thus MacAskill and I start out from a considerable amount of common ground. I agree with MacAskill that “[h]arm is harm, whenever it occurs” (10, emphasis added). And “the numbers matter” (12). If “you can cure a hundred people [say, now] or a thousand of a [terrible] disease [say, over the long term], you should cure a thousand” (12, emphasis added). And you shouldn’t – it is wrong for you instead to – cure only the hundred.
In those words alone, we will find – at least, maximizing consequentialists will find – no urgent moral controversy at all, assuming we admit the term “loss” (or, equally, “harm”) into the consequentialist narrative to begin with. Thus talk of loss or harm, if it’s to be useful to the maximizing consequentialist, must just be a way of talking about reductions in the wellbeing levels assigned to a particular person at one outcome, or possible world or (I will say) future, relative to another and nothing more than that. If we need to say whether a given person at a given future sustains a loss in some categorical sense, then that, too, is a simple matter: a matter of a person’s being made worse off when that same person could – practically could; I’ll say accessibly could; not just logically could – have been made better off.Footnote 8 Notably, however, to determine whether a person has sustained a loss in that categorical sense, we must inquire into what is going on, not just in a particular pair of futures (e.g., the future that does obtain and the future that would have obtained had the one future not obtained), but across the full array of alternate accessible futures. Thus:
Modal account of loss (harm): A person p sustains a loss (is harmed) at future x relative to an alternate accessible future y if and only if x is worse for p than y – that is, if and only if p has less wellbeing in x than in y. A person p sustains a loss (is harmed) at a future x if and only if x is worse for p than is some alternate accessible future y.Footnote 9
According to the modal account, loss, or harm, is a frequently encountered phenomenon. But it’s not an account that, on its own, generates excessive findings of wrongdoing: that you have harmed me, by, say, failing to transfer funds into my bank account, doesn’t, on its own, come with any implication that you have wronged me.
Moreover, casting a wide net for what counts as loss, or harm, as the modal account does, has its advantages. In contrast to the “but for” account (that is, the simple counterfactual account), the modal account isn’t so easily counterexampled. Thus you still harm me, on the modal account but not on the “but for” account, in the case where you shoot me in the arm and, but for that choice, you would have shot me in the heart. Surely you have harmed me when you shoot me in the arm; surely you have then imposed on me a loss; surely (barring truly bizarre circumstances in which you were forced by the laws of physics to shoot me in either the arm or the heart) it’s enough to show harm if we show that you accessibly could have just stood there and not shot me at all.Footnote 10
For the maximizing consequentialist, to cure a person is a simple thing as well: it’s to avoid, on that person’s behalf, one sort of loss on behalf of that person, the sort of loss that befalls a person when we had the ability, power and resources to cure that person of a terrible disease and fail to do so.
As noted, the maximizing consequentialist won’t find those points controversial. Some other sorts of moral philosophers – perhaps theorists wed to “common sense morality,” or rights theorists, or list-based theorists, or Kantians – might dispute that picture of loss or harm. But maximizing consequentialists will think that – if terms like “loss” or “harm” are to be useful at all – that is exactly how we should be using them.
Still another claim that maximizing consequentialists in the main have in common – and, I suspect, another bit of common ground between MacAskill’s view and my own – concerns the moral status of merely possible people. Thus some theorists (and even some consequentialists) have tried to make the case that a person’s moral status depends on that person’s existential status – that a person must exist at the actual world, or at least exist under a given choice, in order for what happens to that person to have any moral significance. But that approach has been widely considered to have failed.Footnote 11 The better position – and at this stage of the debate the less controversial position – is that what is called moral actualism is false. Rather, all people, existing and future, actual or merely possible, have the same moral status.
Still another position continues to stir at least a little controversy even within the close-knit consequentialist community. According to that position, it’s perfectly cogent to say that a person sustains a loss, or is harmed, not just when we fail to cure that person of a terrible disease or when we shoot that person in the arm, but also when we accessibly could have brought a person into a worth-having existence and instead leave that person out of existence to begin with.
My sense is that in recent years the controversy surrounding what we can call nonexistence comparability has started to fade. No longer does it seem an obvious failure of cogency to say that the future in which a given person does or will exist is (depending on the details of the case) better for (creates more wellbeing for) that person than a future in which that person never exists at all. No longer does it seem an obvious failure of cogency to say – about another case – that the future in which a given person does or will exist is worse for that person than a future in which that person never exists. It seems that we can, after all, find a way of articulating such claims – a semantics for such claims – that allows for the cogency, and often the truth, in them that we intuitively think is there.Footnote 12
All that we’ve seen so far are either non-controversies or minor controversies. Whence, then, the big controversy?
One way of bringing the big controversy – the value of existence controversy – to the surface is to ask still another question: do all losses – do all harms – have the same moral significance?
Well, why wouldn’t they? Provided they are of the same proportions, and provided that the people who sustain them are similarly situated?
To make the case that they arguably don’t, it’s helpful to draw a distinction. Let’s call ordinary losses (harms) the losses a person sustains (whether as a result of an act or omission) at any future in which that person does or will exist (whether that future happens to be the actual future or not). The ordinary loss is imposed – just to take one example – when we accessibly could have cured a given person of a terrible disease and fail to do so.
Then, let’s call existential losses (harms) the losses a person sustains in any future in which that person isn’t brought into existence at that particular future at all but accessibly could have been brought into a worth-having existence. The existential loss is imposed whenever we accessibly could have brought a person into a worth-having existence and fail to do so.
That distinction in hand, we can put the question as follows. Other things equal, does the existential loss a person may sustain matter morally in just the same way that the ordinary loss a person may sustain matters morally? Or does it matter not at all?
On MacAskill’s view – and on the view of many in the population ethics mainstream – the categories of ordinary losses and existential losses collapse for moral purposes. Such losses, whether due to a failure to cure a terrible disease or a failure to bring a person into a worth-having existence to begin with, are “moral losses,” according to MacAskill (36, 169, emphasis added). They all matter morally; they all have full moral significance.
On MacAskill’s view, then, Narveson was mistaken: just as “making people happy” makes things morally better, so does “making happy people” make things morally better.
On the alternate view, the two sorts of losses are morally distinct. Ordinary losses – ordinary harms – have full moral significance, while existential harms – existential losses – have none at all. Narveson, in other words, was onto something: “making happy people” does not, on its own and without more, make things morally better.
Consider the case of Jaime versus Harry (Table 1). There, one person, Jaime, either already exists or soon will exist. But precisely how well off Jaime will be – how much wellbeing he will accrue – has not yet, i.e., prior to choice, been determined. In one future – f1 – Jaime is completely cured of a terrible disease and accordingly has a well-worth-having existence. In the other future – f2 – Jaime continues to suffer that same disease, a disease that is so terrible that his wellbeing level is driven all the way down to zero. In contrast, Harry either will – at f1 – never exist at all or – at f2 – have a well-worth-having existence. Finally, let’s stipulate that Harry’s own existence commences at some time in the very distant future.
Jaime versus Harry
Jaime exists in f1 and f2;
Harry* never exists in f1 but does exist in f2

Table 1 Long description
The table has two columns labeled f1 and f2, and three rows labeled with wellbeing levels +10, ..., and +0. Row 1: f1, Jaime; f2, Harry. Row 2: f1, -; f2, -. Row 3: f1, Harry*; f2, Jaime.
On one way of resolving the Narveson-inspired controversy – the way that resolves the controversy against Narveson; the existence-insensitive way – we seem compelled to conclude that f2 is exactly as good as f1. On that view, we face a straightforward wellbeing tradeoff between two otherwise similar possible futures: a merely reversing change in position from the future f1 to the future f2. One or the other of Jaime and Harry will sustain a deep and morally significant loss, while the other will accrue a substantial and morally significant gain.
That result is, of course, a result immediately generated by the total form of maximizing consequentialism, that is, totalism.
In contrast, on the alternate way of resolving the controversy – the existence-sensitive way – the case involves no morally interesting tradeoff at all. The loss Jaime sustains in f2 is an ordinary loss and, as such, has full moral significance. After all, Jaime (at least eventually) exists and suffers in f2; avoiding that loss on behalf of Jaime – curing Jaime – is morally critical. In contrast, the loss Harry sustains in f1 has no moral significance at all. Failing to bring Harry into existence may well impose a loss on Harry, but, Harry never existing at all in f1, it’s not a morally critical loss. Those findings in hand, we naturally conclude that f1 is morally better than f2 – that f2 is morally worse than f1.
Accepting that way of looking at the case would obviously compel a shift away from totalism. But it doesn’t compel a shift away from the basic tenets of maximizing consequentialism. Rather, it insists on a form of maximizing consequentialism that fully registers the fact that f1 is better for Jaime than f2 as material to how f1 compares against f2 in respect of its overall betterness while simply setting aside the fact that f2 is better for Harry than f1.Footnote 13
Notably, the existence-sensitive way of resolving the controversy does not rely on the fact that Jaime’s loss is sustained, if at all, now and Harry’s loss will be sustained, if at all, in the very distant future morally relevant. It avoids any suggestion that just when a person comes into existence has any moral significance at all. The results would be exactly the same – f2 would still be worse than f1 – even if Harry’s existence was imminent and Jaime’s to take place in the very distant future. Instead, as we have just seen, the morally significant distinction to be drawn under the existence-sensitive approach rests on a quite different set of facts.
Here is another example. I really like existing and am very happy, when I think about it, not to have never existed at all. On the existence-insensitive way of resolving the value of existence controversy, my having that worth-having existence, other things equal, adds moral value to the world where I have that existence. Other things equal, it makes that world better than a world where I never exist at all – better than the world where I sustain that (existential, morally significant) loss. As MacAskill puts it, the happy life that never happens is a “moral loss” (36, 169, emphasis added). And elsewhere: it’s a loss “if future people are prevented from coming into existence.” (182–183) And again: “the early extinction of the human race would be a truly enormous tragedy” (182–183). Why? Because a lot of people who might have had existences worth having will, under early extinction, never exist at all; they will instead sustain losses, and morally significant losses at that.
In contrast, on the existence-sensitive way of resolving the controversy, the bare fact of my happy existence, independent of what that existence does for others who do or will exist, may be wonderful for me but doesn’t add moral value to the world. Other things equal, it doesn’t make the world where I exist morally better than the world where I never exist at all – morally better than the world where I sustain that (existential, and therefore morally insignificant) loss.
***
The existence condition (EC) reflects the existence-sensitive, Narveson-inspired, approach.
Existence condition (EC). Where a future y is accessible relative to a future x, x is morally worse than y, and a choice made at x is morally wrong, only if there is future z accessible relative to x such that x is worse for a person p who does or will exist in x than z (where z may, but need not, be identical to y).Footnote 14
To count against the future where a given loss is sustained, or against a choice that produces that particular future, it must be the case that the person who sustains that loss does or will exist at that world; the loss, that is, needs to be an ordinary loss. The one way of resolving the controversy – the existence-insensitive way – rejects EC, while the alternate way of resolving the controversy – the existence-sensitive way – accepts EC.
It should be noted that the condition that EC imposes isn’t passed or failed depending on whether a person does or will exist at any special future (e.g., the actual future, or, alternatively, the future at which the choice under scrutiny is made). It doesn’t base a person’s moral status on that person’s existential status. That would be a version of moral actualism, and that would be a mistake. Rather, the condition EC establishes is passed or failed depending, not on whether a certain two place relation between a person and some special future (e.g., the actual future) obtains or not, but rather on whether a certain three place relation between person, future and loss obtains or not.
Let’s go back to Jaime versus Harry. EC immediately implies that f1 isn’t worse than f2 – that f1 is at least as good as f2. And, since the condition on f2 being worse than f1 is satisfied – Jaime exists in f2 and f2 is worse for him than f1 – it opens the door to still other moral principles that can easily instruct that f2 is worse than f1.
The point of the present paper isn’t to convince anyone to abandon their own deeply held intuitions. But the case of Jaime versus Harry is a good test of what our own intuitions actually are. Which way of resolving the value of existence controversy is more compelling? Which way of resolving the controversy can we not manage to drive out of our moral consciousness? The approach that sees f1 as exactly as good as f2 – that is, the existence-insensitive approach? Or the approach that sees f2 as worse than f1 (and f1 as better than f2) – the existence-sensitive approach? I’ll just note that my own intuition favors the latter.Footnote 15
3 The two arguments
3.1 Background; the nature of my complaint
In this part 3, I turn to the question of why MacAskill favors the existentially unrestricted form of longtermism over the existentially restricted form.
To his great credit, what has changed his mind, and compelled him to accept a position that he earlier on found “bizarrely unintuitive” (169), is the arguments. But what is it that makes those arguments themselves so compelling? In what follows, I take a close look at two of those arguments – and, specifically, two of the principles those arguments rely on – and make the case that they can be trusted only by those theorists who (wittingly or not) already take for granted that the value of existence controversy is to be resolved against Narveson – i.e., that the existence-insensitive way of resolving that controversy is correct.Footnote 16
Before proceeding to the arguments, however, I should clarify that I am taking MacAskill’s arguments to be working toward a single conclusion – that is, MacAskill’s own existentially unrestricted form of longtermism. I should note, however, that on occasion MacAskill couches his arguments not just as arguments favoring that particular form of longtermism but also as arguments favoring the existence-insensitive way of resolving the value of existence controversy (see e.g., 169). Those two positions being quite obviously connected, it might seem that it’s MacAskill’s intention to kill two birds with one stone: the existentially restricted form of longtermism and the existence-sensitive way of resolving the value of existence controversy.
If the two-birds-with-one-stone reading is the better reading of MacAskill’s arguments, then my complaint would just be that the very construction of the arguments quietly assumes that the existence-sensitive way of resolving the value of existence controversy is false. Under that way of reading the arguments, my complaint would then be that they beg the question.
Perhaps, however, the better reading is that the main purpose of the two arguments – and it’s certainly their ultimate purpose – is to favor just the existentially unrestricted form of longtermism. On that reading, there’s no begging of the question.
For purposes of this present paper, I will go with that second reading. My complaint, then, will be that the arguments he has given us are, on close inspection, very gappy. To fill the gap – to complete the argument; to avoid the invalidity – we must write in principles that we have no reason at all, beyond the bare assumption that the value of existence controversy is to be resolved in a particular way, that is, the existence-insensitive way – to accept. Or so I shall argue in what follows.
Now, save, perhaps, for that critical point, none of what I say will be news to MacAskill. He understands the pros and cons of the arguments – which he, in the main, credits to other theorists (169) – at least as well as I do. He is simply saying that his considered opinion is that the population ethics mainstream has got things right – that their arguments, regardless of any deficiencies, are on balance compelling. And I’m simply reminding the population ethics mainstream that the existence-insensitive way of resolving the value of existence controversy really is just an assumption. Once we recognize that particular way of resolving the controversy as the bare assumption that it is, the force of MacAskill’s arguments favoring his own existentially unrestricted form of longtermism begins to fade.
3.2 The three option argument
John Broome has fashioned a devastating argument against Narveson’s original – and now widely quoted – formulation of his own underlying intuition: other things equal, we are “neutral” about making happy people.Footnote 17 MacAskill discusses Broome’s argument with approval – and then, on the basis of the conclusion of that argument, goes on to argue that the existentially unrestricted form of longtermism is correct (176–189).Footnote 18
Let’s, with Broome, call that formulation of Narveson’s underlying intuition the “neutrality intuition” (“NI”). NI has two parts.
Part I of NI: Other things equal, making happy people doesn’t make things better; and
Part II of NI: Other things equal, making happy people doesn’t make things worse.
Broome’s three option case (Table 2) then launches the argument against NI:
Three option case
Charlotte* never exists in future f1;
Charlotte does or will exist in futures f2 and f3;
Charlotte is better off in f3 than in f2

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1. If NI, f1 is exactly as good as f2 and f1 is exactly as good as f3. (NI in combination with conceptual principlesFootnote 19 )
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2. If NI, f2 is exactly as good as f3. (1 in combination with conceptual principlesFootnote 20 )
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3. f2 is worse than f3. (standard Pareto principleFootnote 21 )
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4. If NI, inconsistency. (2 and 3)
Therefore,
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5. Therefore, NI is false; i.e., Part I or Part II or both Part I and Part II of NI are false. (4)
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6. But surely f2 isn’t worse than f1; surely, Part II of NI is true. (5)
Therefore,
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7. f2 is, after all, better than f1; Part I of NI is false. (5 and 6)
Therefore,
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8. The existentially unrestricted form of longtermism is correct.
Once we determine, thanks to Broome’s argument, that NI is false – once we reach the intermediate conclusion in line 5 – we then identify – in line 6 – which part of NI is false (that it’s Part I; after all, how can the mere addition to f2 of the happy child Charlotte make f2 worse than f1?). We then reach the further intermediate conclusion – in line 7 – that f2 is, after all, better than f1 (while f3, we can add, is better still). Other things equal, making happy people makes things better.Footnote 22 From there, it’s a short step to MacAskill’s ultimate conclusion in line 8: “yes, it is a loss if future people are prevented from coming into existence – as long as their lives would be good enough” (187–188). And: the “loss of those future people who will never be born if humanity goes extinct in the next few centuries” is a “moral loss” (36, 169; 188). And: “the early extinction of the human race would be a truly enormous tragedy” (182–183). And: the “practical upshot of this is a case for space settlement” (189). Finally: though MacAskill doesn’t “think that we should scold those who choose not” to have children, he does think that not having children imposes a “moral loss” (36, 169, 188).
Now, it seems that Broome himself concludes his own argument at line 5. He doesn’t, in the relevant text, try to work out just which part of NI fails.Footnote 23 For my part, I consider the argument compelling – indisputable, I thinkFootnote 24 – all the way through to the intermediate conclusion that we find on line 5.
MacAskill, in contrast, continues the argument. A notable plus of doing so is that, by the time we get through line 6, we’ve nicely avoided the inconsistency we see in line 4.
But there’s a problem. It’s not always recognized that, once we get through line 5, we have options for avoiding the inconsistency that go well beyond line 6. In other words: line 5 on its own doesn’t compel us to accept line 6. Nor does logic on its own compel us to accept line 6. Once we show in line 5 that NI is false, we, in other words, have options: we can reject Part I of NI, or we can reject Part II, or we can reject both.
What is it, then, that does compel us, given that we accept line 5, to move to line 6? What compels us to avoid the inconsistency by accepting Part II of NI and rejecting Part I? Why not reject Part II? And retain Part I – that is, the more intuitive part of NI, the very part that explains why Narveson’s famous witticism remains so widely quoted even today – and seems to come very close to something very important?
Nothing in the argument itself answers that question. Once we get to line 5, we can’t – absent additional work – validly move to line 6.
For MacAskill’s part, the additional work that completes the argument comes in the form of an examination of a handful of population theories – the “average view,” the “total view,” the “critical level view” (177–186). Then, without purporting to have resolved the issues each such view independently gives rise to, he concludes that the “balance of arguments” favors the position that, informally, “bigger is better,” and, more formally, that (as noted above) “yes, it is a loss if future [happy] people are prevented from coming into existence” (186; 189–190).Footnote 25
Thus the additional work that aims to justify the inference from line 5 to line 6. But MacAskill himself recognizes that work as incomplete (177). That we can get from that work – in combination with line 5 – to line 6 thus remains more a matter of conjecture than of reasoned argument.
What form might that conjecture take? What principle, in other words, is quietly being put to work in advancing the argument from line 5 to line 6?
Plausibly, the principle that may be lurking in the back of many theorists’ minds, whether or not in MacAskill’s own – to justify the inference from line 5 to line 6 is the mere addition principle.Footnote 26 The modest idea that the mere addition of a happy person doesn’t make things worse certainly may seem perfectly innocuous. It might seem the kind of principle that doesn’t even bear stating – a principle that we almost have no choice but to accept as a legitimate, if unstated, premise of the argument.
In fact, however, the mere addition principle will seem innocuous to us only so long as we continue to operate under the assumption that the value of existence controversy is to be resolved in one particular way – in the existence-insensitive way, that is, against Narveson. We are obviously happy to accept the principle that the existence of the additional happy person doesn’t make things worse so long as we continue to operate under the assumption that the existence of the additional happy person in fact makes things better. Once, however, we identify that particular way of resolving the controversy as the mere assumption that it is – once, that is, we recognize as an option the existence-sensitive way of resolving the controversy – we see that the mere addition principle, without more, can’t be relied on to justify the inference from line 5 to line 6. Thus the door is open to our accepting line 5 and rejecting line 6.
Interestingly, there’s a deeper point here: what, with Broome’s help, we can understand the stated argument to show is that the seemingly innocuous mere addition principle is actually a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Once we are on the hook for the idea that, other things equal, the mere addition of the happy person can’t make things worse, we are then on the hook for the highly contentious intermediate conclusion we see in line 7 – otherwise known as the Pareto plus principle, the principle that, other things equal, the mere addition of the happy person doesn’t merely not make things worse, but actually makes things better.
But let’s go back. I’ve claimed that, once we get through line 5, we have options beyond simply accepting line 6. To see that that’s so, consider what the existence-sensitive proposal for resolving the value of existence controversy would have to say about Broome’s case. More simply, what does the EC have to say about that case?
EC quickly instructs that f1, being worse for no one who does or will exist in f1, isn’t worse than f3. Nor, according to EC, is f3 worse than f1 (f3 is, after all, maximizing across all accessible worlds for Charlotte). Conceptual principles then support the result that f1 is exactly as good as f3.Footnote 27 We can then apply the Pareto principle that Broome himself put to workFootnote 28 to show that f2 is worse than f3. Given that result in combination with a further conceptual principleFootnote 29 , we then infer that f2 is worse, not just than f3, but also than f1. The upshot: f1 is exactly as good as f3, and f2 is worse than both.Footnote 30
The distinction between ordinary and existential losses is another way of articulating the existence-sensitive solution. Charlotte’s ordinary loss in f2 has full moral significance (she exists there, and is worse off than she is in f3), her existential loss in f1 – and I’ve already conceded that it is a loss – is devoid of any moral significance. Building on those points, we can say that her morally significant loss in f2 does count against f2, while her morally insignificant loss in f1 doesn’t count against f1. With no loss at all in f3, it’s plausible then to conclude as above: f1 is exactly as good as f3, and f2 is worse than both.
***
Thus
The first dogma of population ethics: that “making happy people,” other things equal, can’t make things worse; more generally, that the mere addition principle is true.
The fact that the mere addition principle is so widely accepted and may well be quietly at play in justifying the inference from line 5 to line 6, together with the fact that we now understand that we have options – that there exists an alternate, credible, way to avoid the inconsistency we see in line 4 that rejects the mere addition principle – is what makes it fair to call that principle a dogma.
To be clear: Narveson’s original formulation of his underlying intuition – that making happy people is morally “neutral” – fails. Broome’s argument, through line 5, makes that point: Narveson overshot. But what we’ve now seen is that we can reject NI and still retain the more intuitive part of Narveson’s underlying intuition: that making happy people doesn’t, other things equal, make things better. And we can now add that, on occasion, making happy people can actually make things worse.
3.3 The argument based on expected value
Standard expected value theory (SEVT) plays an important role in MacAskill’s thinking (36–40, 259–260). And it quickly generates its own argument in favor of the existentially unrestricted version of longtermism. Thus SEVT implies much of what MacAskill lists as being of special importance (9–28):
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-- future people count (5, 9); and
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-- there could be a lot of them (a very, very large number of them, depending in part on the choices we agents make going forward) (9, 12–19); and
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-- “[w]e can make their lives go better” (9, 19–21), including by way of bringing them into existence to begin with and thus avoiding what MacAskill considers moral losses on their behalf (36, 169–189).
Indeed, MacAskill’s list easily could have been generated from SEVT and SEVT alone.
SEVT’s aim is to provide a way for us to take probabilities into account (to rationally place our bets). And probabilities are surely critical to moral evaluation.
What is in dispute is whether SEVT is the right way to take probabilities into account. It’s certainly a widely accepted add-on to many forms of maximizing consequentialism. It is fair to say it is the mainstream view.
Perhaps most salient for purposes here is that SEVT lends robust support to MacAskill’s own existentially unrestricted form of longtermism. As soon as he recognizes that a person who never exists at all but could have existed and been well off sustains a moral loss (36, 169), he is well on his way to making the “moral case for space settlement” (189) – not just for we who do or will otherwise exist, but also for all those many, many additional people we could work very hard (and potentially at great sacrifice to others as well as ourselves) to bring into existence as well.
But as widely accepted as SEVT is – among population ethicists, maximizing consequentialists and perhaps economists – it doesn’t itself come without its own challenges. It’s not a conceptual or morally obvious truth.
Things get worse. Though widely accepted, we can identify cases in which SEVT seems clearly to produce a false result and still other cases in which the result SEVT generates can seem plausible only to those theorists who have already assumed the existence-insensitive way of resolving the value of existence controversy.
As stated earlier, I believe that probabilities are critical to moral evaluation. What I now just want to note is that what probabilities are critical to is the evaluation of the choices we face – as, e.g., permissible. In contrast, many of the principles noted in part 3.2 above, e.g., the standard Pareto principle and the mere addition principle, though not EC itself, focus exclusively on ranking alternative accessible futures in respect of their overall betterness. Under conditions of certainty, the two sorts of moral analysis plausibly come together. But once we add probabilities into the mix – and specifically probabilities based on information available to agents prior to choice – it’s the choices that exist for us as options that we are aiming to evaluate rather than the accessible futures we are aiming to rank.
***
In the first case we need to consider – all-but-known disaster/additional-people version (Table 3) – agents must choose between A, rescuing a very large number of people — say, a billion people — from a terrible disease, and B, bringing a vastly larger number of additional people into existence in the very distant future.Footnote 31
Choice A: agents, with certainty, avoid a terrible disease on behalf of a billion people who do or will exist at a given future (Population I).
Choice B: agents leave those same billion people (Population I) to suffer that terrible disease but create a microscopic probability that the human species will continue for a very, very long time into the future, such that, if that microscopic probability, against all odds, eventuates, an indefinitely large (perhaps even an infinite) number of additional people (Population II) will be ushered into worth-having existences.
All-but-known disaster/additional-people version
Pop. I contains 1 billion existing or future people;
Pop. II contains all those people and a great many additional people

Table 3 Long description
A table comparing two options, A and B, based on probability, accessible futures, and per person wellbeing. The table has three rows and four columns. The columns are labeled Option A, Option B, and two additional columns for populations. The rows are labeled probability, accessible futures, per person wellbeing, +100, and +0. For Option A, the probability is 1.0, accessible futures is f1, per person wellbeing is not specified, +100 is Pop. I, and +0 is Pop. II. For Option B, the probability is 0.999999999...9, accessible futures is f2, per person wellbeing is not specified, +100 is Pop. II, and +0 is Pop. I.
Let’s now stipulate that the Table 3 case is one-off; the pattern doesn’t repeat itself again and again at the particular future such that, if things don’t turn out well in an early trial, they may well turn out well over the long run.
If the numbers, including the probabilities, are sufficiently stark, then the expected value of choice B will be greater than the expected value of choice A. And the moral principles we can anticipate in light of SEVT, accordingly, will instruct that B is morally obligatory and that A is wrong.
Even MacAskill notes about a similar case that, “intuitively” for him, choice A, as the “safe bet,” is “the right thing to do.” (259). “Taking the low probability [of success] action seems wrong.” (259)
What MacAskill doesn’t do, however, is reject SEVT on those grounds. Rather, he writes that “[u]nfortunately, there is no good solution to this problem …. If we wish to avoid the idea that tiny probabilities of enormous amounts of value can be better than guarantees of merely large amounts of value, then we run into other problems that seem just as bad.” (259). And anyway, he notes, in the cases he wants to talk about in his book, the “probabilities under discussion aren’t at all very tiny” (259–260).
But that’s not enough. If the problems we run into themselves force us to seriously question SEVT, then we surely can’t rely on SEVT to justify MacAskill’s own existentially unrestricted form of longtermism.
Let’s just note that SEVT also condemns choices very like choice A in the additional-people version of all-but-known disaster in far more local, close-to-home cases as well, including where the choice is to have two children rather than ten or no children rather than two and where how the choice is made doesn’t affect anyone else who either does or ever will exist. As noted earlier, MacAskill explicitly notes that he doesn’t “think that we should scold those who choose not” to have children (188). But to say that that choice imposes a morally significant loss on the child, or that it makes the world morally worse (36, 169), is, I think, to “scold” those individuals. I think it also panics us.
As noted earlier, probabilities are critical to the moral evaluation of our choices. But the additional-people version of all-but-known disaster at least raises the question whether SEVT, however widely accepted, is the right way to take probabilities into the account. For those unwilling to bite the bullet, the case does more: it shows that SEVT isn’t the right way to take probabilities into account.
Moreover, we have options. One option would be to insist that our theory reflect the existence-sensitive way of resolving the value of existence controversy – that it, in other words, include EC as a constraint; that it recognize the morally critical distinction between ordinary losses and existential losses. Under such a theory, there is no moral pressure at all to choose B over A in all-but-known-disaster/additional person version: under choice A, the losses the members of population II sustain in f1 are each and every one sustained by persons who never exist in f1. They thus can’t, according to EC, make f1 worse than f2 or f3 or make the choice of A wrong. In contrast, the losses the members of population I sustain in both f2 and f3 are all sustained by persons who do or will exist. The upshot is that, consistent with EC, the door is open for still other moral principles to instruct that f2 and f3 are both worse than f1 and that the choice of B is wrong.
***
SEVT faces further challenges in the context of cases that don’t invoke the value of existence controversy at all. Such cases seem to function as bona fide counterexamples against SEVT. If SEVT can’t be relied on to generate correct results even in easy same-people cases, it surely can’t be relied on to extend support in the seemingly far more complex additional-people cases.
Thus consider the same-people version of all-but-known disaster (Table 4). In that case, the agent – say, the mom – has a one-off choice between A – doing the normal parental things for her child, Tommy – and B – having the very young Tommy take a high risk/high reward pill, one that comes with a truly significant possible upside for Tommy, an upside consisting of, say, a trillion (1T) units of wellbeing.
All-but-known disaster/same-people version

Table 4 Long description
A table comparing options A and B based on probability, futures, and wellbeing levels. The table has 3 rows and 3 columns. Column headers are Option A, Option B, and probability, futures, and wellbeing levels. Row labels are probability, futures, and wellbeing levels. Row 1: probability, 1.0, 0.999999999, 0.000000001. Row 2: futures, f1, f2, f3. Row 3: wellbeing levels, +1 trillion (1T), Tommy, -100, Tommy, +100, Tommy.
Then, the calculation under SEVT:
$$\eqalign{ {{\rm{EV}}\left( {\rm{A}} \right)} & = {\rm{ }}1 \times 100 \cr & = {\rm{ }} \!+ \!100 \cr {{\rm{EV}}\left( {\rm{B}} \right)} & = {\rm{ }}\left( {0.999999999 \times \!\!-\!100} \right){\rm{ }} + {\rm{ }}\left( {.000000001 \times 1{\rm{T}}} \right) \cr & = {\rm{ approx}}. - \!99 + 1000 \cr & = {\rm{ approx}}. + \!900 }$$
SEVT clearly supports the result that choice B is obligatory, whether performed in f2 or in f3.
But at least as performed at f2 choice B seems clearly wrong: the probabilities are overwhelming; we can almost see the miserable child; the hapless mom; the hideous outcome that, given the probabilities, the agent (the mom) all but knew all along that her choice of B would give rise to.
The ad hominem “risk averse” just doesn’t seem adequate here or appropriate. The risk neutral but rational evaluator will surely agree that B – specifically, that B at f2 – is wrong.
***
Thus I propose:
The second dogma of population ethics: that the standard form of expected value theory (SEVT) is correct, both in its analysis of “additional people” cases and also in its analysis of ordinary “same people” cases.
But again we have options – at least, it’s premature to conclude that we don’t have options. In the same-people version of all-but-known disaster, the existence-sensitive way of resolving the value of existence controversy isn’t of any help at all. What we need is another way altogether of taking probabilities into account – a theory that avoids the overreach that we seem to get (too many choices deemed obligatory, too few deemed permissible – but that still recognizes probabilities as critical to moral value.
In reply to this same-people version of all-but-known disaster, perhaps MacAskill would again defend the SEVT analysis by noting that “[u]nfortunately there is no good solution” to the problem; perhaps he would again note that the probabilities he is interested in the book “aren’t at all very tiny” (259–260).
Just as important, MacAskill himself, as noted earlier, explicitly recognizes the challenges SEVT faces. It thus isn’t fair to say, of MacAskill personally, that SEVT functions as a “dogma” for him.
But those points don’t entirely solve the problem. If we accept the same-people version of all-but-known disaster as a bona fide counterexample against SEVT (even if we, though not I, perhaps concede that the additional-people version of the case isn’t a bona fide counterexample) – if we accept that SEVT generates false results in the same-people version of all-but-known disaster – then we can’t rely on SEVT going forward. Specifically: we can’t rely on SEVT to justify MacAskill’s own existentially unrestricted form of longtermism. Rather, the philosophically correct path is to go on to the next theory: to identify a principle that recognizes the relevance of what we can neutrally call anticipatory probability-related value and that tests better than SEVT does. We need, in other words, to identify a better way of taking probabilities into account. Once we have figured that out, we can construct our argument – for or against MacAskill’s existentially unrestricted form of longtermism, as the case may be. But until then we should hold our endorsement of MacAskill’s position in reserve.
Previously in this paper I’ve pointed out that we in fact have theoretical options – existence-sensitive options – that we can go to in place of the existence-insensitive option MacAskill wants to leave us with. As noted earlier the existence-sensitive analysis doesn’t help us to identify any particular way of analyzing the same-people version of all-but-known disaster that would generate results that are more obviously credible than the seemingly clearly false results generated by SEVT. But that fact doesn’t undercut what I said earlier: once we have identified a bona fide counterexample, the philosophically correct path forward is to go on to the next theory – whether that theory constitutes some variation on SEVT or offers some other way of taking probabilities into account altogether – and then the next, until we arrive at one that tests better than SEVT does — that, at the very least, passes our most immediately credible tests, which SEVT does not.
4 Conclusion
The main purpose of this current paper has been to cast in a harsher light — as dogmas, rather than as legitimate sources it’s been assumed we may appeal to at will — two principles that MacAskill, along with many other population ethicists, seems to have comfortably accepted. The paper’s further purpose has been to resurrect a controversy – the big controversy; the value of existence controversy; the controversy that ignores, or simply sets aside, the widely shared, deeply held intuition that, while, other things equal, we favor “making people happy,” we don’t, other things equal, favor “making happy people.”
Still, the purpose of this paper is less to remind MacAskill – he’s well aware that the controversy surrounding the value of existence controversy has not truly been resolved, even as he, in reaching his various conclusions, is willing to set it aside; i.e., deem it to have been fully resolved, and resolved against Narveson – and more to remind many in the population ethics mainstream that it’s made its job too easy: that we need to find the time to revisit the value of existence controversy that many seem to have thought – or at least to have hoped – they’d put to bed forever.
My own conclusion is that the existence-insensitive solution to the value of existence controversy isn’t justified in large part due to the fact that the existence-sensitive solution exists as a credible option. And I want to say the same thing about longtermism itself: the existentially unrestricted form of longtermism isn’t justified, in large part due to the fact that the existentially restricted form of longtermism remains on the table. Thus: it is a fine thing for humanity to continue – though I would refine that thought a bit, and say simply that it’s a fine thing for there in the future to exist many, many additional people, where the term “people” is understood to include not just many humans but many non-human animals as well. And we need to do what we can do today to make sure that those people are as well off as we can make them. (That’s not to say that we need to maximize wellbeing for each and every one of them; tradeoffs, of course, must be made, and should be made in accordance with various well-tested moral principles, principles we’ve had no need to put to work in this paper.) But what we don’t need to do is bring ever more people into existence to begin with and until the end of time.
What I think we intuitively want to say, in other words, about our own little families, should we happen to have them or want to have them, holds for the universe at large: other things equal, it’s permissible for us to choose to have two children rather than ten, or none rather than two. What we can’t do is bring the additional child into existence and then do less for that child when, without imposing too much ordinary loss on others (i.e., consistent with moral principle), we accessibly could have done more. What those moral principles won’t do (in my view) is see the ordinary loss of wellbeing as something that can be properly traded off in favor of the existential loss of wellbeing; as noted earlier, that, I think, doesn’t make for a morally interesting tradeoff at all.



