The mining industry has been a significant part of the Australian economy since soon after white settlement. From the early gold rushes to today's multifaceted operations, people have profited from the valuable materials which lie beneath our nation's soil.
In recent years, the mining industry has occupied an increasing amount of the media's attention, as we learn more about the people who own the huge mining companies, consider the industrial relations issues surrounding the safety, supply and demand of the workforce, and worry about the impact mining has on our fragile ecosystems. (For more information, see Get Up's recent video on mining in and around the Great Barrier Reef.)
I believe the mining industry carries a higher moral culpability than other industries. Of course, all industries, from manufacturing to health care, have ethical responsibilities; none are exempt. However, the mining industry takes resources from the very so-called "golden soil" that is Australia and profits from their sale. Unlike crops, minerals and ores cannot be regrown: once sold, they are lost to the rest of Australians forever (unless it is sold within Australia, though it is my understanding that the majority of mined resources end up overseas).
The fact that the mining industry profits from selling something which rightfully belongs to all Australians places a higher moral burden on those companies. As I type this, I guess I realise that when it comes to mining, I am something of a socialist: I would prefer that mines are owned and operated by the government, with profits directly benefiting all Australians ... hmm, there's an interesting thought!
Idealism aside, the mining giants are becoming fat off a resource which is non-renewable and, uniquely, belongs to all Australians. The should therefore be held very accountable for their impact on the environment, their industrial relations policies, and their financial responsibilities to the other citizens of Australia.
Showing posts with label morality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label morality. Show all posts
Sunday, 27 May 2012
Friday, 22 July 2011
Ethical Considerations
These are the ethical questions which have been on my mind lately:
- How long is it morally acceptable for a driver to hold up a queue of traffic because theywant to do a right hand turn? At what point should they just give up, turn left and pull a U-ie or go round the block?
- If a runner participating in an event tosses an empty drink container at a bin and misses, should they turn around and re-bin it?
- Are you obliged to respond to every single "like", "poke", "comment", "message" or "request" sent your way on facebook?
- Is there a certain timeframe within which you should return emails, phone messages, etc? Are there different times for different media?
- Question 4 relates to the realm of manners/politeness: is this an ethical realm, or separate?
- If someone wants to talk to you on public transport, ought you participate in conversation? (What if you're the only person who'll talk to them all day? You just don't know!)
- How guilty should you feel about overdue library books?
- What is the proper and ethical response to someone who suddenly comes to a halt in the midst of a crowd of running people, causing inconvenience?
- Are you obliged to move earthworms stranded on the footpath after rain onto the grass? Does this moral obligation change if you're in the middle of a run, as opposed to just going for a walk?
Saturday, 4 June 2011
A Good Rant
I haven't had a good rant for a while, so here goes ...
There's an ad on TV at the moment which raises my blood pressure every time I see it: the advertisement for Visa's new pay wave system - you know the one, where rows of good little consumers all proceed at a steady pace through a lunch servery, choosing the same sandwich, flicking their ties/crossing their legs at the same time; all very ordered, very smooth, each swiping their credit card past the check out machine, one by one - until one selfish consumer has the temerity to choose to pay using cash, the ensuing pause causing a disturbance of the peace, disharmony and affront to all.
I fear that the image this ad portrays, this utilitarian 'paradise' in which we members of society docilely consume, is in fact a reflection of our culture - a sad indictment, rather than a whimsical satire; a symbol of tragedy, rather than something to be smiled at. I suspect that, like the people in this ad, many of us do go about our purchasing mindlessly ... and I believe that, in doing this, we are morally culpable for the results of our actions.
Such an easy thing, to wave a piece of plastic past a sensor; a simple, hands-free option – but, in this context, our hands are rarely clean. When we buy cheap clothing, do we consider that we are most likely supporting slave-like working conditions for some of our fellow human beings? If we buy meat, do we empathise with the suffering of the once-living animals we're going to consume? If we purchase cosmetic products presented in an excess of plastic packaging, do we consider how this will contribute to landfill?
I count myself part of this complicity, of course; I have no right to the moral high ground here. And trying to remove oneself from this dystopia can be difficult. A few years ago, I went through a phase of making rather than buying clothes, hoping thereby to stop contributing to the plight of underpaid clothing workers. I found a simple skirt pattern and would spend money on lengths of lovely cloth, creating a steady stream of work clothes ... until, getting dressed one morning, I realized with horror that I was putting on a skirt with an embroidered pattern on it. I bet pixies weren't responsible for that!
Despite having no claim to the high moral ground here, I can still wish for a world in which we (I!) were not so mindless, so heartless, in our consumption.
If I were drawing a line here (which I'm not: to do so would be hypocritical), what might I be calling for?
A solution won’t come out of writings like this, dry re-presentations of those unpalatable truths we are surely aware of, even if we try to ignore them. It is naive to think these issues in our society might go away simply by dreaming of another way, wishing for a new future. Yet, perhaps, that is where the solution begins: in not only knowing the ramifications of our purchases, but feeling the impact we are having on others’ lives; not only understanding how our seemingly-trivial decisions play out beyond our kitchens and bathrooms, but – even if only in our imaginations – suffering alongside the people, creatures, environments which our purchasing fingers leave grubby marks on.
The solutions might come from new stories, new imaginings, which capture the hearts of consumers, which transform the hearers by their tellings. I’m thinking of stories like Jeanette Winterson’s “The Stone Gods”; Doris Lessing’s “Shikasta”; the documentary “Food Inc”; or simply stories from the heart which connect us to the consequences of our actions.
There's an ad on TV at the moment which raises my blood pressure every time I see it: the advertisement for Visa's new pay wave system - you know the one, where rows of good little consumers all proceed at a steady pace through a lunch servery, choosing the same sandwich, flicking their ties/crossing their legs at the same time; all very ordered, very smooth, each swiping their credit card past the check out machine, one by one - until one selfish consumer has the temerity to choose to pay using cash, the ensuing pause causing a disturbance of the peace, disharmony and affront to all.
I fear that the image this ad portrays, this utilitarian 'paradise' in which we members of society docilely consume, is in fact a reflection of our culture - a sad indictment, rather than a whimsical satire; a symbol of tragedy, rather than something to be smiled at. I suspect that, like the people in this ad, many of us do go about our purchasing mindlessly ... and I believe that, in doing this, we are morally culpable for the results of our actions.
Such an easy thing, to wave a piece of plastic past a sensor; a simple, hands-free option – but, in this context, our hands are rarely clean. When we buy cheap clothing, do we consider that we are most likely supporting slave-like working conditions for some of our fellow human beings? If we buy meat, do we empathise with the suffering of the once-living animals we're going to consume? If we purchase cosmetic products presented in an excess of plastic packaging, do we consider how this will contribute to landfill?
I count myself part of this complicity, of course; I have no right to the moral high ground here. And trying to remove oneself from this dystopia can be difficult. A few years ago, I went through a phase of making rather than buying clothes, hoping thereby to stop contributing to the plight of underpaid clothing workers. I found a simple skirt pattern and would spend money on lengths of lovely cloth, creating a steady stream of work clothes ... until, getting dressed one morning, I realized with horror that I was putting on a skirt with an embroidered pattern on it. I bet pixies weren't responsible for that!
Despite having no claim to the high moral ground here, I can still wish for a world in which we (I!) were not so mindless, so heartless, in our consumption.
If I were drawing a line here (which I'm not: to do so would be hypocritical), what might I be calling for?
A solution won’t come out of writings like this, dry re-presentations of those unpalatable truths we are surely aware of, even if we try to ignore them. It is naive to think these issues in our society might go away simply by dreaming of another way, wishing for a new future. Yet, perhaps, that is where the solution begins: in not only knowing the ramifications of our purchases, but feeling the impact we are having on others’ lives; not only understanding how our seemingly-trivial decisions play out beyond our kitchens and bathrooms, but – even if only in our imaginations – suffering alongside the people, creatures, environments which our purchasing fingers leave grubby marks on.
The solutions might come from new stories, new imaginings, which capture the hearts of consumers, which transform the hearers by their tellings. I’m thinking of stories like Jeanette Winterson’s “The Stone Gods”; Doris Lessing’s “Shikasta”; the documentary “Food Inc”; or simply stories from the heart which connect us to the consequences of our actions.
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