PHIL103: Moral and Political Philosophy

Utilitarianism is a consequentialist ethics – the outcome matters, not the act. Among those who focus on outcomes, the utilitarians' distinguishing belief is that we should pursue the greatest good for the greatest number. So we can act in whatever way we choose – we can be generous or miserly, honest or dishonest – but whatever we do, to get the utilitarian's approval, the result should be more people happier. If that is the result, then the utilitarian needs to know nothing more to label the act ethically recommendable. (Note: Utility is a general term for usefulness and benefit, thus the theory's name. In everyday language, however, we don't talk about creating a greater utility but instead a greater good or happiness.)

In rudimentary terms, utilitarianism is a happiness calculation. When you're considering doing something, you take each person who'll be affected and ask whether they'll end up happier, sadder, or it won't make any difference. Now, those who won't change don't need to be counted. Next, for each person who's happier, ask, how much happier? Put that amount on one side. For each who's sadder, ask, how much sadder? That amount goes on the other side. Finally, add up each column and the greater sum indicates the ethically recommendable decision.

Utilitarian ethics function especially well in cases like this: You're on the way to take the SAT, which will determine how the college application process goes (and, it feels like, more or less your entire life). Your car breaks down and you get there very late and the monitor is closing the door and you remember that…you forgot your required number 2 pencils. On a desk in the hall you notice a pencil. It's gnawed and abandoned but not yours. Do you steal it? Someone who believes it's an ethical duty to not steal will hesitate. But if you're a utilitarian you'll ask: Does taking it serve the greater good? It definitely helps you a lot, so there's positive happiness accumulated on that side. What about the victim? Probably whoever owns it doesn't care too much. Might not even notice it's gone. Regardless, if you put your increased happiness on one side and weigh it against the victim's hurt on the other, the end result is almost certainly a net happiness gain. So with a clean conscience you grab it and dash into the testing room. According to utilitarian reasoning, you've done the right thing ethically (assuming the pencil's true owner isn't coming up behind you in the same predicament).

Pushing this theory into the KDCP case, one tense ethical location is the principal lifting test booklets and sending them over to his brother at the test-prep center. Everything begins with a theft. The booklets do in fact belong to the College Board; they're sent around for schools to use during testing and are meant to be returned afterward. So here there's already the possibility of stopping and concluding that the principal's act is wrong simply because stealing is wrong. Utilitarians, however, don't want to move so quickly. They want to see the outcome before making an ethical judgment. On that front, there are two distinct outcomes: one covering the live tests, and the other the retired ones.

Live tests were those with sections that may appear again. When students at KDCP received them for practice, they were essentially receiving cheat sheets. Now for a utilitarian, the question is, does the situation serve the general good? When the testing's done, the scores are reported, and the college admissions decisions made, will there be more overall happiness then there would've been had the tests not been stolen? It seems like the answer has to be no. Obviously those with great scores will be smiling, but many, many others will see their scores drop (since SATs are graded on a curve, or as a percentile). So there's some major happiness for a few on one side balanced by unhappiness for many on the other. Then things get worse. When the cheating gets revealed, the vast majority of test takers who didn't get the edge are going to be irritated, mad, or furious. Their parents too. Remember, it's not only admission that's at stake here but also financial aid, so the students who didn't get the KDCP edge worry not only that maybe they should've gotten into a better school but also that they end up paying more too. Finally, the colleges will register a net loss: all their work in trying to admit students on the basis of fair, equal evaluations gets thrown into question.

Conclusion. The theft of live tests fails the utilitarian test. While a few students may come out better off and happier, the vast majority more than balances the effect with disappointment and anger. The greater good isn't served.

In the case of the theft of "retired" tests where the principal forwarded to KDCP test questions that won't reappear on future exams, it remains true that the tests were lifted from the College Board and it remains true that students who took the KDCP prep course will receive an advantage because they're practicing the SAT. But the advantage doesn't seem any greater than the one enjoyed by students all around the nation who purchased prep materials directly from the College Board and practiced for the exam by taking old tests. More – and this was a point KDCP made in their countersuit against the College Board – stealing the exams was the ethically right thing to do because it assured that students taking the KDCP prep course got the same level of practice and expertise as those using official College Board materials. If the tests hadn't been stolen, then wouldn't KDCP kids be at an unfair disadvantage when compared with others because their test practices hadn't been as close to the real thing as others got? In the end, the argument goes, stealing the tests assured that as many people as possible who took prep courses got to practice on real exams.

Conclusion. The theft of the exams by the high school principal may conceivably be congratulated by a utilitarian because it increases general happiness. The students who practiced on old exams purchased from the College Board can't complain. And as for those students at KDCP, their happiness increases since they can be confident that they've prepared as well as possible for the SAT.

The fact that a utilitarian argument can be used to justify the theft of test booklets, at least retired ones, doesn't end the debate, however. Since the focus is on outcomes, all of them have to be considered. And one outcome that might occur if the theft is allowed is, obviously, that maybe other people will start thinking stealing exam books isn't such a bad idea. If they do – if everyone decides to start stealing – it's hard to see how anything could follow but chaos, anger, and definitely not happiness.

This discussion could continue as more people and consequences are factored in, but what won't change is the basic utilitarian rule. What ought to be done is determined by looking at the big picture and deciding which acts increase total happiness at the end of the day when everyone is taken into account.