The so-called Platinum Rule was derived from a comment made by the philosopher Karl Popper in a footnote appearing in his book “The Open Society and Its Enemies” (1945, Routledge).
In that note he comments that the Golden Rule might be improved upon by stating that we should
“do unto others, wherever possible, as they would be done by…”
Labeling that idea as platinum implies that it is better than; i.e. more valuable than; gold.
While Popper’s sentiment sounds worthy and virtuous, without some critical constraints, it would be unworkable and yield counter-intuitive results.
The platinum rule statement reverses the self-reference problem of the golden rule. That is: the golden rule is completely self-referential. It makes my wants the measure of the appropriateness of the actions I take toward you.
The platinum rule makes your wants the criterion that determines my actions towards you.
This was not a fully-formed and argued position put forth by Popper and I am sure he would not promote it without some restrictions or conditions. But the proposal is “out there” and has been accepted at face value by some, so its implications need to be discussed.
The platinum rule statement has, at its core, the notion of impartiality. And impartiality is one of the core difficulties of utilitarianism. So, I think it’s fair to draw on the literature of utilitarianism to discuss the implications of the platinum rule statement.
One of the well-known utilitarian comments on impartiality is:
“…everyone counts for one but nobody (including me) counts for more than one.
A typical example illustrates the idea: there are ten people who want ice cream. Seven prefer chocolate and three prefer vanilla. Only one flavor can be bought. Impartiality holds that chocolate will be bought. Even if I am buying the ice cream and I hate chocolate, I have to buy chocolate in order for the greatest number to receive the greatest good. In order to be impartial.
But impartiality can become extreme, and damaging. An example given in the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy goes like this:
“Utilitarianism tells me to put my dollars wherever they will do the most good. In the hands of a reputable aid agency, my dollar could save a child from a crippling illness, and so I am obligated to donate it to the aid agency. I should give my next dollar to an aid agency, and I must keep donating till I reach the point where my own basic needs, or my ability to keep earning dollars, are in jeopardy. Most of my current activities will have to go. Nor will my sacrifice be only financial. According to utilitarianism, I should also spend my time where it will do the most good. I should devote all my energies to aid work, as well as all my money.”
There is no doubt that those suffering from illness, living in poverty or otherwise afflicted would want our assistance. If their want were the only criterion, we are led down the path described above. I think it is obvious that an interpretation of that sort cannot work as a general principle of behavior.
Another extreme example of impartiality and the seeking of the greatest good for the greatest number is the example of the healthy person arriving at a hospital in which there are five persons who will die without immediate organ transplants. (The person arriving is assumed to be a qualified donor for all five needed organs.) The strict act utilitarian answer would be to save the five endangered lives by sacrificing the life of the (unwitting) donor.
The five endangered persons clearly want the organs, but can their desire really be satisfied at the cost of another’s life?
But, still, the platinum idea strikes us as worthy, even if it does not work as a stand-alone principle. Can we find value in it in a different way?
Let’s look at another example:
Let’s say I make $100,000 per year and a basic subsistence lifestyle would cost me $20,000 per year. So. I can live a subsistence quality life and have $80,000 available for other purposes.
Let’s say that the aid agency we spoke of above can provide subsistence quality lifestyles to those in sub-Saharan Africa for $250 per year and there are many people who live at below-subsistence level. My $80,000 could support 320 such persons or families.
However, let’s say that I have family members, or friends or fellow members of a church group whom I know, who have below subsistence level incomes and are in need of help. Maybe my $80,000 can help eight or ten of them reach subsistence level lifestyles.
If I choose to give my available money to those people, the same amount of money will help fewer people than if I gave to the aid agency.
Should I be bound to the rule of the “greatest number”?
I would say no.
In fact, should I actually be bound to give away everything I have beyond subsistence level?
I would say no.
Neither a completely self-referential approach nor an approach completely driven by another’s desire can work. Each produces extreme consequences. Neither can stand alone.
But both have value as parts of a process of deciding matters of acceptable behavior.
My wants matter and your wants matter. The extent to which one matters more than the other – if one does — will depend on the specific circumstances. Our relationship to one another matters. The immediacy and severity of our needs matter. Our alternatives for meeting those needs matter. Our prior commitments matter.
Ultimately, there must be a balancing analysis done, whether explicitly or implicitly, whether openly or privately, whether by thought or intuition, strict calculation or emotion. In some way, a decision between the two will be reached and action taken.
How that decision is made is the issue.
©Charles R. Lightner