In an era where moral philosophy often retreats into abstract academic silos, Bentham's Bulldog mounts a ferocious defense of effective altruism by dismantling two of its most bizarre recent critics. The piece is notable not for its novelty, but for its sheer audacity in treating arguments that equate human welfare with supernova energy or justify moral apathy through emotional subjectivism as serious intellectual challenges. It forces the busy reader to confront a stark reality: the most dangerous threats to saving lives may not be malice, but the absurdity of those who claim to offer superior ethical frameworks.
The Energy Fallacy and the Shrimp Question
Bentham's Bulldog opens by addressing a critique from Guillaume Verdon, an AI accelerationist who argues that the movement's focus on well-being is misguided. Verdon suggests that prioritizing the reduction of suffering leads to "wireheading"—a state of artificial happiness—and instead proposes that we should maximize energy because it is "very objective." Bentham's Bulldog dismantles this with surgical precision, pointing out the logical absurdity of valuing raw energy over human experience. "A supernova has a great deal of energy, but it is not the pinnacle of moral value," the author writes, noting that under Verdon's logic, the destruction of Earth would be a moral triumph. This comparison is devastatingly effective because it strips away the technical jargon Verdon uses to sound profound.
The commentary highlights how Verdon conflates effective altruism with a narrow, caricatured version of hedonism. Bentham's Bulldog notes that the movement does not require the controversial philosophical stance that only pleasure and pain matter. "Trying to save and improve lives as effectively as possible doesn't require any controversial view about which things make a life go well, because in practice the leading theories will give ~identical recommendations," they argue. This is a crucial distinction for the reader to grasp; it separates the practical goal of reducing suffering from the metaphysical debates that often bog down ethical discourse. The author further critiques Verdon's misuse of computer science terminology, observing that referring to a moral goal as a "loss function" is not only confusing but technically incorrect, as a loss function is something to be minimized, not maximized.
If your criticism of EA is that it focuses on curing malaria rather than creating supernovas, that is a bit silly. That which is worthwhile in life can rarely be precisely measured.
The piece also tackles the specific objection regarding animal welfare, particularly the suffering of shrimp. Critics often dismiss this as "spurious," but Bentham's Bulldog counters that the sheer scale of the suffering—where shrimp are suffocated by the trillions—makes it a rational target for intervention. This argument echoes the historical rigor of Peter Singer's work in Animal Liberation, which shifted the moral calculus by demanding that the capacity to suffer, not the species, determine moral worth. The author insists that dismissing these concerns based on a gut feeling of weirdness is not an argument, but a failure of imagination.
The Trap of Subjectivism
The second half of the piece turns to Ian Jobling, who argues that moral philosophy fails when it conflicts with human nature or emotional intuition. Jobling suggests that the famous "drowning child" thought experiment only proves we should act on what we feel like doing, not what we ought to do. Bentham's Bulldog identifies this as a "fully general response to all moral arguments," one that could logically be used to defend racism, slavery, or cannibalism. "Jobling's argument could equally be used in defense of slavery, child rape, and cannibalism," the author writes, exposing the dangerous implications of reducing ethics to personal emotional reactions.
The commentary is particularly sharp in its analysis of Jobling's background as a reformed racist. Bentham's Bulldog uses this history to illustrate the flaw in Jobling's logic: if moral worth is determined solely by whether one feels like caring, then a racist who simply doesn't feel empathy for marginalized groups cannot be morally criticized. "Presumably Jobling would not think such a person had made a good point," they note, drawing a parallel that forces the reader to see the inconsistency in Jobling's position. This is where the piece transcends a simple rebuttal and becomes a defense of the very possibility of moral reasoning.
Critics might note that the author's dismissal of the "moral saint" critique—referencing philosopher Susan Wolf—feels slightly dismissive of the legitimate concern that total self-sacrifice can lead to a barren life. However, Bentham's Bulldog effectively counters that effective altruism does not demand sainthood, but rather a "non-trivial portion" of one's wealth, a distinction that keeps the movement grounded in reality. The author points out that figures like Norman Borlaug, who saved a billion lives, are not "interesting" in a conventional sense, but their lives are undeniably well-lived. "The good is worth pursuing," they conclude, rejecting the idea that moral rigor must be sacrificed for the sake of being "interesting."
If your defense of not being an EA could also be used by rapists, genocidaires, and war criminals, then it leaves much to be desired as a defense.
Bottom Line
Bentham's Bulldog delivers a masterclass in intellectual defense, proving that the strongest arguments for effective altruism are not found in complex philosophy, but in the refusal to accept absurdity. The piece's greatest strength is its ability to expose the logical vacuity of critics who hide behind jargon or emotional subjectivism, while its only vulnerability is a perhaps overly confident assumption that all reasonable people will immediately see the flaw in equating energy with value. For the reader navigating a world of noise and bad faith, this commentary offers a clear, unyielding standard: if a moral theory cannot explain why a supernova is worse than a saved life, it is not a theory worth keeping.