Counterproductivity Argument is Prudential Rather Than Moral

One example of how the debate has sidestepped the interesting challenges can be seen in the widespread argument – perhaps now approaching a consensus in American politics – that torture should be prohibited because its impact in tarnishing America’s image and creating foreign hostility makes it, on balance, a counterproductive policy choice. That may be a perfectly sound conclusion, but the “counterproductivity” argument is obviously a prudential argument rather than a moral one, and ignores the ethical challenges presented by “ticking bomb” scenarios. (Arguably, in fact, the counterproductivity critique might actually fail, from an ethical perspective, against “ticking bomb” challenges. Who would choose to sacrifice a million New Yorkers just in order to keep our image untarnished?) To judge from media coverage of the torture issue, it also appears to be important to many commentators whether or not the CIA actually got useful information out of its treatment of those high-value prisoners. Such post hoc evaluations also skirt the sharpness of the ethical dilemma that faces policymakers in advance of knowing what information – or whether any information – will be obtained.

What debate has occurred in the United States over the “torture question” hints that Americans might actually approve of very harsh interrogation techniques in extreme circumstances. The now-commonplace “counterproductivity” argument, after all, implies that the speaker might condone torture if the use of such techniques could be effectively concealed. (There would presumably be no tarnishing of our image and no foreign disgust if nothing ever became publicly known.) The widespread press speculation as to whether the CIA actually got valuable information for its troubles would also seem to imply a poplar belief that if major additional terrorist attacks had been prevented, this fact would have (retroactively?) justified the techniques employed to elicit the information. It is possible, therefore, that Americans might actually approve of something like “torture” in the really hard cases.  

Nevertheless, the moral issues were never squarely addressed, because the wholly indefensible abuses at Abu Ghraib preempted discussion. In a sense, therefore, the outrages in Baghdad may have made “the torture question” too easy for most Americans. Our public policy discourse might have been richer and more interesting if it concerned only the CIA “waterboarding” program – or if the public were more easily able to disaggregate the actual U.S. interrogation policy from the unsanctioned mess at Abu Ghraib. So how would the American public really respond to the classic “ticking bomb” scenario, and what would it think about the CIA interrogation program if this question were presented on its own? We don’t really know.