The consequentialist ethical model, which considers that ethics’ objective is to achieve the best consequences, opposes the deontological ethical model. There are several types of consequentialist ethics, the best-known of which is utilitarianism. It famously formulates that ethics should seek the greatest happiness for the greatest number.
Utilitarianism affirms that a variable must be maximised, whether happiness, utility, pleasure or well-being. It appeared in the Anglo-Saxon context at the time of industrialisation, where there was great optimism in applying the methods of the pure sciences to the Social Sciences. Utilitarianism assumes that ethics can be reduced to a variable, and its maximisation, and that this variable can be known. This is gauged using a mechanism similar to a happiness machine, which measures how happy people are.
This may sound strange, but to an economist, this sounds familiar. The model of man on which traditional economic theory is based states that rationality is the maximisation of a variable. That model is known as homo economicus. This view adopts utilitarianism and, in general, the consequentialist approach as its undisputed premise.
Is strategy not to correctly match means and ends? Anticipating the consequences of our actions is part of any strategy. However, the question is whether consequences can be the only decision-making criterion. Let’s imagine a case where we have a terrorist in custody; who knows where a bomb is going to explode in a central place in two hours. The consequentialist question would be: is it morally justified to torture this terrorist to prevent the bomb from exploding? I have asked my students many times about this textbook ethical scenario. The answers are divided between more deontological or consequentialist students.
Since the happiness machine does not exist, economists inspired by utilitarianism sometimes tend to consider money as the variable to be maximised. This approach can be contrasted with a more robust ethical view that affirms that human goods are plural and complex. Michael Sandel offers an example of this argument in his book What Money Cannot Buy, where he gives examples of the moral limits of the market. Relationships of friendship and love are never, or should never be, reduced to monetary terms. But beyond that, is it morally justified to sell a kidney? To be a surrogate? Can everything be bought and sold? Is it justifiable to pollute in exchange for money? Is it lawful to buy residency or nationality?
This phenomenon alluded to by Sandel is technically called weak-sense incommensurability and means that values cannot be reduced to a single variable. In general, the cases allude to reducing everything to monetary terms. Values are more plural, and human beings are more complex.
Perhaps a more complete evaluation of the ends should be made from the strategy point of view. Creating a plan to maximise one variable may cause one to lose sight of other goods involved. Agreement may arise precisely because the parties have different interests. But those interests need to be explored.
Anticipating the consequences of actions is a matter of prudence. Strategy seeks victory, but this does not always come from maximising a single variable. Life is more plural and complex.