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To be compassionate is to care about others specifically in opposition to their suffering or deficiency. While the distress of compassion is paradigmatic of the virtue, a wide range of emotion types – gratitude, anger, fear, joy, and so forth – can express it. Aristotle offers an analysis of the emotion of compassion as entailing propositions (1) that the other is suffering, (2) that the other doesn’t deserve the suffering, and (3) that oneself is vulnerable to the kind of suffering one sees in the other. In dialogue with Martha Nussbaum’s exposition and adaptation of Aristotle’s analysis of the emotion of compassion, this chapter compares Aristotelian compassion with the compassion that is commended in the New Testament. Differences between the two turn on differences in the concept of suffering, in the presence of a concept of forgiveness, and in the locus of commonality.
If panpsychism is true then consciousness pervades the cosmos, and there exist many more conscious subjects than other worldviews contemplate. Panpsychism’s explanatory story about how human material composition and complexity grounds human consciousness seems to entail that there exist, notably, various conscious subjects within human organisms. Given the plausibility of the thesis that consciousness confers moral status – a thesis many panpsychists endorse – questions thus arise about the wellbeing of these inner subjects. In this article I raise the possibility that the lives of our inner subjects may not be morally suitable to a sophisticated centre of consciousness of the sort that likely exists, for example, inside various of our brain areas. Panpsychism, indeed, seems on the face of it to generate a good deal more suffering, in this way, than other worldviews. If that is correct, panpsychists who would embrace theism, and theists who would embrace panpsychism – for example pantheists – should be given serious pause. If panpsychism positively compounds the problem of evil, then one may have to choose between panpsychism and theism.
Chapter 6 starts from the insight that, despite international criminal law’s focus on individual responsibility, atrocity crimes are often a result of structural violence and ditto injustices: discrimination, social exclusion, exploitation, and so on. If the violence is structural, the suffering becomes social, that is, inherent in societal structures. The question remains how the legal order can respond to structural injustice and social suffering. The chapter argues that these forms of injustice register as ‘silent claims’ at the brink of the legal order, questioning its boundaries.
These sermons were aimed at inspiring believers to imitate the martyrs, who themselves imitated Christ, their archetype. Christ’s voluntary suffering and self-sacrifice defeated the devil and death, expiated our sins, and restored to believers the possibility of eternal happiness, with God’s grace. Augustine modifies the traditional definition of “martyr” as “witness” to make martyrdom contingent on suffering and self-sacrifice: the essence of martyrdom and mandatory for all who would be Christian. He provides examples of this ideal behavior, such as calmly accepting the loss of one’s property. Suffering proves the cause for which martyrs died is true; otherwise they would have failed their ordeals. Augustine draws on Cyprian, recognizing a literal martyrdom in times of persecution, and in times of peace, a spiritual martyrdom fought daily against temptation and sin. These sermons also document the obstacles Augustine faced when preaching: not only correcting the errors of the Donatists, Manichees, and Pelagians, but also accommodating his flock’s limitations. He thus presents an inclusive church, a concord of different levels of expertise ordered hierarchically.
In this chapter of Complex Ethics Consultations: Cases that Haunt Us, the authors describe a 70-year-old man who is refusing all options available to him and expresses faith that his suffering must have some meaning since it was "God’s will." The team struggled with apparently inconsistent patient expressions of turning down surgery but insisting on attempted resuscitation. The case additionally highlights the uncertainty involved in medical decision making.
In this chapter of Complex Ethics Consultations: Cases that Haunt Us, the author describes a case involving multiple interactions between a patient’s family and the healthcare team surrounding "futile" therapy. Each new team believes that the family does not understand and tries to educate them, leading to exhaustion and lack of trust all around. The case demonstrates the complexity that arises in communication in the current healthcare system.
This article explores the longstanding relationship between Buddhism and disasters in Japan, focusing on Buddhism's role in the aftermath of the Asia-Pacific War and the Tohoku disaster of March 2011. Buddhism is well positioned to address these disasters because of its emphasis on the centrality of suffering derived from the impermanent nature of existence. Further, parallels between certain Buddhist doctrines and their current, disaster-related cultural expressions in Japan are examined. It is also suggested that Japanese Buddhism revisit certain socially regressive doctrinal interpretations.
The chapter describes how forms of ill-treatment other than torture have been defined over the last 85 years since they were prohibited in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. The core elements are described of cruel, inhuman, or degrading treatment or punishment are described in turn with the distinctions between these terms and the definition of torture highlighted. The distinct features of other ill-treatment under international humanitarian law are also described.
Plusieurs personnes atteintes d’un cancer incurable sont des hommes, âgés de plus de 65 ans. Même si, à notre connaissance, aucune recherche ne porte sur les souffrances de ces hommes, des écrits dévoilent que ces dernières pourraient être considérables. Les réalités du vieillissement au masculin couplées à celles d’être atteint d’une maladie incurable peuvent effectivement engendrer des souffrances particulières. Cette recherche qualitative vise à mieux comprendre les souffrances vécues par les hommes âgés atteints d’un cancer incurable (HACI). Nous explorerons si et comment leurs souffrances se rapportent à des enjeux identitaires de genre et/ou aux transformations de leurs rôles. Dix-sept hommes âgés de 65 ans et plus atteints d’un cancer incurable furent rencontrés en milieu urbain (Montréal) dans le cadre d’entretiens semi-dirigés. L’analyse thématique des résultats a permis de relever des enjeux identitaires et de rôles, la nature des changements affectant l’identité et ses rôles et les enjeux de genre vécus par les HACI.
Researchers explore the biology of painful experiences not primarily felt in the body (‘non-physical pain’), sometimes referred to as mental, social or emotional pain. A critical challenge lies in how to operationalise this subjective experience for biological research, a crucial process for translating findings into clinical practice.
Aims
To map studies investigating biological features of non-physical pain, focusing on their conceptual features (i.e. terms and definitions of non-physical pain) and methodological characteristics (e.g. experimental paradigms and measures).
Method
This methodological systematic review searched reports of primary research on the biological features of non-physical pain across Embase, MEDLINE and Web of Science. Using a meta-research approach, we synthetised results on terms, definitions, populations, experimental paradigms, confounders, measures of non-physical pain and investigation methods (e.g. functional magnetic resonance imaging).
Results
We identified 92 human studies, involving 7778 participants. Overall, 59.1% of the studies did not report any definition of non-physical pain, and 82% of studies did not use a specific measure. Regarding the possibility of translating results to clinical settings, most of the human studies involved only healthy participants (71.7%) and the seven different experimental paradigms used to induce non-physical pain had unknown external validity. Confounders were not considered by 32.4% of the experimental studies. Animal studies were rare, with only four rodent studies.
Conclusions
Biomedical studies of non-physical pain use heterogeneous concepts with unclear overlaps and methods with unknown external validity. As has been done for physical pain, priority actions include establishing an agreed definition and measurement of non-physical pain and developing experimental paradigms with good external validity.
Research suggests that caregivers of patients with disorders of consciousness such as minimally conscious states (MCS) believe they suffer in some way. How so, if they cannot experience sensations or feelings? What is the nature of their suffering? This paper explores non-experiential suffering (NES). It argues that concerns about NES are really concerns about harms (e.g., dignity-based harms), but still face problems. Second, it addresses the moral importance of bearing witness to suffering. It explores several possible accounts: epistemic (bearing witness generates important knowledge), consequentialist (witnesses’ interests also matter), and deontological (there is a duty to bear witness). It argues that witnessing suffering creates epistemic advantages and disadvantages for determining a patient’s interests; that clinicians’ interests to not bear witness may have considerable moral weight; and that the obligation to bear witness to NES is unclear.
This essay argues that what distinguishes a negatively valenced phenomenal experience from suffering is an ability to make meaning of the experience. In this sense, intellectual ability influences the extent and nature of suffering. But this connection is not a straightforward one, since intellectual ability cuts both ways. On the one hand, those with higher levels of intellectual functioning are better able to make meaning of negative experiences, thereby reducing their suffering. On the other, intellectual ability can influence the depth and breadth of one’s negative experiences, thereby increasing suffering. This means that we cannot make any assumptions about a person’s susceptibility to suffering based on their level of intellectual functioning alone.
A summary chapter that also suggests that the world of hunting may be a microcosm to what we see played out daily on a larger scale: the othering of those who are different from us (and what this othering allows us to do in terms of the suffering we cause).
This essay argues that suffering in persons with dementia is more than a matter of personal experience. It is knowable by others and does not need to rely on the reports of the patient to affirm it. It is even possible for a person to claim not to be suffering—“I’m doing fine”—but for others to conclude to the contrary—“You are suffering.” A key property of this objective account is the caregiver observes the suffering. This observation is a product of the work of caregiving and this work relies on perceiving and supporting the mind of the person living with dementia. When that work of mind support is successful, it creates a feeling of being at home. When it is not, suffering ensues.
Poetry has always courted suffering. Poets sing their suffering, we've been told, and there can be no poetry without suffering. Louise Glück wasn't too sure about that. Suffering features centrally in her poetry and she discussed its role in poetry in her critical writing, where she often retained the language of poetry as martyrdom. However, she was keen to stress that suffering's part in composition has been misplaced and misunderstood, its function idealised and fetishised. Surveying a wide range of texts about poetry's relationship to suffering, and drawing surprising links between very different voices, this book situates Glück both in the tradition of Rainer Maria Rilke's lyrical suffering and in the tradition of T. S. Eliot's impersonal approach to poetry. Glück's most powerful and characteristic discussion of suffering, it argues, takes place in her 1992 volume, The Wild Iris.
Consider a simple argument that worshipping God is wrong. This world is not a nice place. Not only do humans persecute and inflict other evils on each other, but millions of people suffer and die every year from preventable poverty-related causes, and it seems that few, if any, deserve their plights. It is unclear that we should want to be associated with, never mind worship, a being with the capacity to make the world a much better place but whose beneficence (or knowledge) permits things to go on in the ways that they do. At first blush, contempt is a more fitting response to God than worship. But, assuming God exists, perhaps we have reason to accept, if not worship, him in any case. Humans are comparably limited. We do evil unto each other, and, insofar as millions of deaths are preventable, our failure to prevent them is a failure of humans as well as of God. If we could (and should) have saved many lives and have not, our moral failings present us with our own, human, problem of evil and suffering. So, if we should reject God because so many people suffer, then we should reject ourselves when we could avoid evil and help others too. However, this article argues that we have practical, moral, and epistemic reasons to accept rather than reject ourselves, and similarly we have reasons to accept God. And if we have reason to accept God, then we have some reason to worship God. Worship is a way of acknowledging our own limitations and can help us survive, flourish, and help others in the face of the problems of human evil and suffering.
Within bioethics, two issues dominate the discourse on suffering: its nature (who can suffer and how) and whether suffering is ever grounds for providing, withholding, or discontinuing interventions. The discussion has focused on the subjective experience of suffering in acute settings or persistent suffering that is the result of terminal, chronic illness. The bioethics literature on suffering, then, is silent about a crucial piece of the moral picture: agents’ intersubjectivity. This paper argues that an account of the intersubjective effects of suffering on caregivers could enrich theories of suffering in two ways: first, by clarifying the scope of suffering beyond the individual at the epicenter, i.e., by providing a fuller account of the effects of suffering (good or bad). Second, by drawing attention to how and why, in clinical contexts, the intersubjective dimensions of suffering are sometimes as important, if not more important, than whether an individual is suffering or not.
Increased interest in suffering has given rise to different accounts of what suffering is. This paper focuses the debate between experientialists and non-experientialists about suffering. The former hold that suffering is necessarily experiential—for instance, because it is necessarily unpleasant or painful; the latter deny this—for instance, because one can suffer when and because one’s objective properties are damaged, even if one does not experience this. After surveying how the two accounts fare on a range of issues, the paper presents a decisive argument in favor of experientialism. The central claim is that non-experientialist accounts cannot accommodate cases of suffering that are virtuous and that directly contribute to some objective good.
Chapter 6 returns to H. G. Wells to offer a fuller account of this writer’s longstanding fascination with animal experimentation, a practice he supported. Analysis of The Wonderful Visit (1895), The Island of Dr Moreau (1896), short stories, and essays reveal this author’s investment in contemporary scientific debates surrounding the thorny issues surrounding non-human pain introduced in Chapter 5. Despite differences in genre and tone, the selected texts each exploit the uneasy relationship between injury, experience, and expression to raise compelling questions about pain’s purpose and limits. The period’s vivisection debates were an important and productive context for Wells who capitalised on the ambivalence they produced, undermined the generic expectations of writings about the subject, and considered whether literary and linguistic methods could uniquely capture – or even solve – the problem of pain.