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Where do we draw the line?

Conscientious objection

by Simon Longstaff

If you have ever been asked to do something that you sincerely believe to be wrong, then you will understand the plight of the ‘conscientious objector’. For many people, clear cases of conscientious objection arise in ‘life and death’ cases. Some people do not believe in killing other human beings under any circumstances and reject the use of all forms of violence. For people such as these, conscription to wage war involves a violation of their conscience. Indeed, many are prepared to suffer imprisonment rather than collude in what they believe to be an act of ‘evil’.

Yet, not all examples of conscientious objection involve such weighty matters. For example, what do you do if you are fundamentally opposed to style or content of advertising that your agency is commissioned to produce? For example, is there room for the voice of conscience when it comes to something like the sale and use of tobacco products? What is a legitimate response when asked to produce advertising that, in your honest opinion, degrades women? How far might you go in order to thwart the plans of those who wish to exploit the vulnerabilities of children for commercial gain?

Some people scoff at such questions – arguing that individuals should set aside any personal misgivings as purely ‘subjective’ concerns. Instead, they argue that we should all conform to supposedly ‘objective’ criteria such as the law. The argument is deceptively simple – if it’s not illegal, it’s not wrong. As such you can and should do all that is required to serve the declared wants of your client – within the boundaries of the law.

This approach to questions of conscience belongs to a tradition called ‘legal positivism’. Put simply, legal positivists argue that there is no independent ethical arena for the exercise of conscience – there is just the law. One of the principal objections to this position is that people have a deep-seated and intuitive sense that laws simply do not make what we do ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ by merely declaring them so.

That is, most people understand what it means to talk of an ‘unjust law’. After all, every law enacted by parliament could have been different. For example, there’s nothing to say that a parliament could not pass a law, tomorrow, raising income tax to 90% for all people working in advertising and marketing. Would the fact that the parliament enacted such legislation or the courts upheld it make such a law a ‘just law’?

Appeal to the law as the ‘gold standard’ for conscience fails on many counts. However, the major weakness is that it denies the possibility of individual human beings taking personal responsibility for the decisions that they make. Instead, the majority of us are asked merely to conform and obey. One of the most common ways of capturing the possibility of our making real choices is to invoke the idea of each person having access to a personal conscience. In the history of Western thinking about this possibility, the most influential voice has been that of St Thomas Aquinas who argued, persuasively, that no power on earth (not even a Pope) can override the dictates of a well-informed conscience.

People in advertising are therefore entitled (and some would say, obliged) to take account of what the ‘still voice of conscience’ speaks to them. This is not to suggest that it’s ok for individuals to do whatever they happen to feel like. It’s important to remember that it is only the well-informed conscience that is sovereign. At the very least, this means that judgements need to be based on a full understanding of the relevant issues and based on the consistent application of justifiable principles.

Wise employers will respect the conscientious objections of their colleagues and not force them to participate in acts that they sincerely believe to be wrong. For example, it would be harsh to require a person opposed to advertising, say, tobacco to work on a campaign to flog the stuff in a market – where it might still be lawful to do so.

On the other hand, conscientious objectors cannot expect to stand their ground without any cost. To follow your conscience often requires the exercise of considerable moral courage – standing up for what is right even when you know that to do so will require you to face the wrath of people whose plans are frustrated and the derision of others who think you to be a naive fool. Of course, we all compromise as part of life. It’s just that for some people, compromise becomes a way of life – where nothing counts for enough to say, ‘this far ... and no further’.

So, why make the choice to act conscientiously (even if it costs)? Because we can? Because that’s what it means to be human? Because in the end all that we have is worthless if we cannot have a good opinion of ourselves?

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