God and Nature Summer 2019
"Philosophy"
Whilst the philosophy of science is an established discipline, I suspect that most engineers struggle to see the connection between the nuts and bolts of their subject and concepts such as Cartesian dualism. With the possible exception of having a “design philosophy”, engineers use the word philosophy infrequently. This isn’t to say that engineers aren’t philosophical, but that to your average engineer, the word is more associated with inebriation than with a rational approach to their discipline—i.e. “after a couple of pints, Frank became quite philosophical”. See also Monty Python’s “Philosophers’ Song”.
One of my social science colleagues wrote to all the departments at a certain university asking them to identify ethical issues within their disciplines. Most heads of department wrote back with a list of topics, whereas the reply from engineering was less encouraging. It consisted of the single sentence: “There are no ethical issues in engineering.” Admittedly, this was a few years back, and perhaps the rays of enlightenment have spread further across campus since then. In particular, engineers are beginning to realise that when we launch new products on the unsuspecting public or into the environment, we are experimenting on people and the planet with its flora and fauna. Robert Oppenheimer’s reflection during his 1954 security hearing—“When you see something that is technically sweet, you go ahead and do it and you argue about what to do about it only after you have had your technical success. That is the way it was with the atomic bomb”—sounds chilling to our ears, but replace the words “atomic bomb” with “mobile phone”, “e-cigarette”, or “autonomous vehicle”, and suddenly Oppenheimer’s words don’t sound so alien.
Here at Nottingham, some of my colleagues work on autonomous vehicles, concentrating on the human-factor issues arising from the introduction of technologies into cars.
Automobile design has always raised ethical issues, particularly around safety and the balance between protecting those inside the vehicle as opposed to pedestrians, cyclists, and other road users. For instance, modern vehicle design has moved away from rigid “bull bars” and solid bonnets (vehicle hoods) to structures that are less likely to kill pedestrians unlucky enough to be involved in collisions with cars. Chevrolet’s slogan: "[built] like a rock" might be attractive for drivers, but not so much so for pedestrians. The introduction of autonomous vehicles presents further challenges—should the software controlling the response of the vehicle act to preserve the safety of those inside of the car at all costs, or should the safety of others be considered? At the higher end of automation, this could involve software making a choice between crashing into a concrete wall or driving into a crowd of pedestrians. At the lower end of automation, automatic braking systems could avoid a vehicle hitting the car in front but would make it vulnerable to being hit from behind (unless the following vehicle has an automatic braking system or a very alert driver with exceptional reflexes driving at a safe distance within the speed limit).
Vehicle manufacturers are twitchy about the ethical responsibility that designing such systems brings. In our increasingly litigious culture, the last thing that automotive companies want is to be dragged into court cases where the blame for injuries caused as a result of a car crash might be pinned on the car’s software. Perhaps in the near future we’ll have vehicles that allow the driver to adjust their settings to decide on the balance between self-preservation and altruism, or maybe the car will auto-detect the mood of the driver and compensate as it sees fit. Let’s hope not.
“What Would Jesus Drive?” (WWJD) isn’t a new question—it was a slogan used in a TV advertising campaign in Iowa, Indiana, Missouri, and North Carolina back in 2002. Rev. Jim Ball, of the Evangelical Environmental Network, explained that "We have confessed Christ to be our saviour and Lord, and for us, that includes our transportation choices. Most folks don't think of transportation as a moral issue, but we're called to care for kids and for the poor, and filling their lungs with pollution is the opposite of caring for them." Back then, the campaign focussed on the environmental impact of vehicles, and they believed that the answer to WWJD would not include sports utility vehicles or other fuel-inefficient gas-guzzlers commonly seen on America's roads. I remember taking a cab in New Orleans around that time and discussing cars with my taxi driver. The cabbie couldn’t believe that I owned a car with an engine with less than 1 litre capacity. Electric vehicles weren’t even on the agenda.
What would Jesus drive? How would Jesus drive? These are indeed deep philosophical questions to which I have no certain answers, but my gut feeling is that if he lived in London, he’d take the Tube—see artwork by Antonia Rolls.
Mike Clifford is an Associate Professor in the Faculty of Engineering at the University of Nottingham. His research interests are in combustion, biomass briquetting, cookstove design and other appropriate technologies. He has published over 80 refereed conference and journal publications and has contributed chapters to books on composites processing and on appropriate and sustainable technologies.
Whilst the philosophy of science is an established discipline, I suspect that most engineers struggle to see the connection between the nuts and bolts of their subject and concepts such as Cartesian dualism. With the possible exception of having a “design philosophy”, engineers use the word philosophy infrequently. This isn’t to say that engineers aren’t philosophical, but that to your average engineer, the word is more associated with inebriation than with a rational approach to their discipline—i.e. “after a couple of pints, Frank became quite philosophical”. See also Monty Python’s “Philosophers’ Song”.
One of my social science colleagues wrote to all the departments at a certain university asking them to identify ethical issues within their disciplines. Most heads of department wrote back with a list of topics, whereas the reply from engineering was less encouraging. It consisted of the single sentence: “There are no ethical issues in engineering.” Admittedly, this was a few years back, and perhaps the rays of enlightenment have spread further across campus since then. In particular, engineers are beginning to realise that when we launch new products on the unsuspecting public or into the environment, we are experimenting on people and the planet with its flora and fauna. Robert Oppenheimer’s reflection during his 1954 security hearing—“When you see something that is technically sweet, you go ahead and do it and you argue about what to do about it only after you have had your technical success. That is the way it was with the atomic bomb”—sounds chilling to our ears, but replace the words “atomic bomb” with “mobile phone”, “e-cigarette”, or “autonomous vehicle”, and suddenly Oppenheimer’s words don’t sound so alien.
Here at Nottingham, some of my colleagues work on autonomous vehicles, concentrating on the human-factor issues arising from the introduction of technologies into cars.
Automobile design has always raised ethical issues, particularly around safety and the balance between protecting those inside the vehicle as opposed to pedestrians, cyclists, and other road users. For instance, modern vehicle design has moved away from rigid “bull bars” and solid bonnets (vehicle hoods) to structures that are less likely to kill pedestrians unlucky enough to be involved in collisions with cars. Chevrolet’s slogan: "[built] like a rock" might be attractive for drivers, but not so much so for pedestrians. The introduction of autonomous vehicles presents further challenges—should the software controlling the response of the vehicle act to preserve the safety of those inside of the car at all costs, or should the safety of others be considered? At the higher end of automation, this could involve software making a choice between crashing into a concrete wall or driving into a crowd of pedestrians. At the lower end of automation, automatic braking systems could avoid a vehicle hitting the car in front but would make it vulnerable to being hit from behind (unless the following vehicle has an automatic braking system or a very alert driver with exceptional reflexes driving at a safe distance within the speed limit).
Vehicle manufacturers are twitchy about the ethical responsibility that designing such systems brings. In our increasingly litigious culture, the last thing that automotive companies want is to be dragged into court cases where the blame for injuries caused as a result of a car crash might be pinned on the car’s software. Perhaps in the near future we’ll have vehicles that allow the driver to adjust their settings to decide on the balance between self-preservation and altruism, or maybe the car will auto-detect the mood of the driver and compensate as it sees fit. Let’s hope not.
“What Would Jesus Drive?” (WWJD) isn’t a new question—it was a slogan used in a TV advertising campaign in Iowa, Indiana, Missouri, and North Carolina back in 2002. Rev. Jim Ball, of the Evangelical Environmental Network, explained that "We have confessed Christ to be our saviour and Lord, and for us, that includes our transportation choices. Most folks don't think of transportation as a moral issue, but we're called to care for kids and for the poor, and filling their lungs with pollution is the opposite of caring for them." Back then, the campaign focussed on the environmental impact of vehicles, and they believed that the answer to WWJD would not include sports utility vehicles or other fuel-inefficient gas-guzzlers commonly seen on America's roads. I remember taking a cab in New Orleans around that time and discussing cars with my taxi driver. The cabbie couldn’t believe that I owned a car with an engine with less than 1 litre capacity. Electric vehicles weren’t even on the agenda.
What would Jesus drive? How would Jesus drive? These are indeed deep philosophical questions to which I have no certain answers, but my gut feeling is that if he lived in London, he’d take the Tube—see artwork by Antonia Rolls.
Mike Clifford is an Associate Professor in the Faculty of Engineering at the University of Nottingham. His research interests are in combustion, biomass briquetting, cookstove design and other appropriate technologies. He has published over 80 refereed conference and journal publications and has contributed chapters to books on composites processing and on appropriate and sustainable technologies.