In "The Life You Can Save", Peter Singer poses a simple scenario as a basis for his overall argument that we, the rich, need to get our checkbooks out:
You are walking alongside a lake in a park one sunny afternoon, enjoying the scenery. To your horror, you notice a little girl struggling in the water. No one else is about and only you can save her. However, if you go into the water to save her you will spoil the nice new shoes you bought only the other day and will effectively be losing about $200. If you do not go into the water, the little girl will drown. What do you do?
And of course the rest of his book is based on the assumption that pretty much everyone will respond, "Screw the shoes; of course we'll save the little girl". So let me pose a similar scenario, with only a tiny difference.
You are sitting at the side of a lake in a park one sunny afternoon, enjoying a book. To your horror, you notice a little girl struggling in the water. No one else is about and only you can save her. However, if you go into the water to save her you will have to put down your book and use some of your free time. If you do not go into the water, the little girl will drown. What do you do?
Does Singer's chain of reasoning imply that early retirement -- perhaps *any* retirement -- is morally suspect?
It may go further. Singer's argument over charitable giving does allow for people to give away only some of their surplus, retaining the rest. But you can tell he's not comfortable with that, either for himself or for others. But when we expand the argument from not just money and other such physical resources, but also to our time, it seems to lead inexorably to a pretty fundamental question: What are our lives *for*? Are they for ourselves? For our immediate families? For "others" in general?
Hey, don't look at me; *I* don't know. I only started reading the maniac a month or two ago, and not only is he stressing me out but now I can't even comfort eat chocolate (milk-based, you see) to cheer myself up!