Question Recently, a young American sailor attempting to circumnavigate the globe was saved after her boat was badly damaged at sea. I am always struck by rescues like these, which are often as time-consuming and expensive as they are dramatic. (The search for the American sailor involved several ships, as well as the involvement of three different countries.) How can we justify the expenditure of so much resources in order to save a single person? It seems to me that the money spent on finding the sailor, if used to purchase something more basic (food or medicine, say), could just as easily have saved dozens if not hundreds of other people. Indeed, this sort of thing strikes me as somewhat perverse, because the individuals rescued in situations like this have very often deliberately put themselves in dangerous situations.

Accepted:
June 14, 2010

Comments

Good points. Moreover, some adventurers appear to want to have "no-rescue zones." This topic sometimes comes up under the general heading "a wilderness without hand-rails." Still, cases arise when persons set out on ventures without renouncing rescue efforts and this does raise troubling issues. We routinely don't blame persons for not rescuing those in peril if the rescue is highly dangerous and is likely to lead to even greater dissaster. But in cases such as the one you are referring to other factors seem to come into play. Perhaps the American sailer comes to symbolise or represent more than herself: she is not merely Jane Doe, but she comes to represent American youth or teenage ambition or female courage or all three. And how we respond to her in a case of distress seems to reveal, in part, the value we attach to youth, courage, and so on. I agree with you that there is a sense in which it would appear to be more ethical to use funds to buy food or medicine for those who are in peril due to no fault of their own versus spending the funds to relieve an adventurer. Moreover, if the adventurer is motivated by pure vanity or arrogance, we might be very reluctant to go to her aid. But we are rarely in a position when we have X amount of money and then face an explicit choice between famine victim and failed adventurer. I suggest that we often do seek to rescue the brave person who is in trouble because we thereby testify or give witness to the value we place on bravery or, more specifically in the case of the sailer, the value we place on a young American girl's courage. Though perhaps some of her rescuers might also think that it would be good if young American girls and boys would be more courageous in breaking a world record by growing food and distributing medicine to those in need.