Moral Maze

It will soon be time to vote in the General Election. A moment for us all to play our part in democracy. The theory is that politicians do their best to get elected, and then do all the right things so they are re-elected next time round. But in practice it can be difficult for governments to do what really needs to be done and still stay in power. A good example is climate change: There is a broad consensus that very urgent action is needed, and yet as the election nears, there's little from the major parties promising radical, decisive action, because they fear that voters don't really want it.If liberal democracy can't solve our problems, can it at least unite us around the principle that everyone's point of view is worth hearing?  Well no, not any more.  For every listener to good old Radio 4 there are many more who get their news from social media and their opinions from their silo of friends.  Is it too cynical to suggest that voters are short-sighted, selfish and stubbornly wrong-headed?  And what about the quality of our leaders? Does anyone think our political system is serving up the nation's finest?Some say our democracy isn't democratic enough.  They fear excessive influence by lawyers, quangos, peers, and press barons.  Others applaud activists for challenging the worst excesses of a corrupt Commons. Three cheers, they say, for the unelected European Court of Human Rights and the judges who go easy on civil disobedience while thwarting the Home Office over asylum policy.Do we still believe that our democracy is morally the least-worst system, when it seems incapable of producing long-term solutions to the most urgent problems?  Can we learn anything at all from authoritarian states that seem better at simply getting things done? In this special edition of the Moral Maze, recorded at the Hay Festival, we ask - what is the moral basis for claiming that our version of democracy is superior?  Presenter: Michael Buerk Producers: Jonathan Hallewell, Peter Everett and Ruth Purser Editor: Tim Pemberton

The Legacy Act in Northern Ireland provides a conditional amnesty for people who committed crimes during the Troubles, as part of a broader process of reconciliation. It's an attempt to draw a line under events of the past, but it's generated anger among the families of some victims, who feel they'll be denied justice. When things go wrong, we need to find people to blame. Who's responsible? Who should be punished? But might we do better if we were prepared to blame less – prioritising the truth, and forgive more? It's been proposed that the NHS adopts a no-blame system where staff don't lose their jobs if they admit a failure, so the NHS learns quickly from its mistakes. The “no-blame culture” idea already exists in parts of the US aviation industry where people are encouraged, even praised, for owning up to mistakes that could cost lives. If blame means disgrace and the end of a career, it's hardly surprising that people hide the truth about their own failure. How many of us would admit it quickly, if we discovered that a mistake at work had led to terrible consequences? More forgiveness might lead to greater openness and honesty. It could make it easier to avoid mistakes being repeated. But is it moral to forgive serious wrongdoing? Where is the justice in that? Surely the fear of blame is a powerful incentive for us all to do our jobs properly and avoid mistakes. Do we need more forgiveness – or less? Presenter: Michael Buerk Producer: Jonathan Hallewell Assistant Producer: Ruth Purser Editor: Tim Pemberton

Many people seem to be going off the idea of work. In the UK there are more than nine million people who are "economically inactive". Some are unemployed, some are students, others are not actively looking for a job or available to start work. There's no shortage of jobs, but people are choosing not to take them. Many people decided not to return to work after the Covid lockdowns. They reduced their working hours or took early retirement, choosing the golf course over the office. For some, it's a moral failure that so many are economically inactive. But why do we ascribe such virtue to the idea of work? Politicians endlessly refer to "hard working families", perhaps inducing a sense of entitlement among workers, but in the process stoking resentment against those who don't work. Of course the economy relies on work - the wheels only turn when enough people are employed and paying tax. Some believe the benefits system is to blame - if it's too comfortable not to work - then why bother? But there's also the broader societal shift where people choose to work less, or not at all and live a more modest but perhaps less stressful life. Is this a laudable position, where people prioritise wellbeing over wealth and status, or a selfish one that denies the collective responsibility we all bear to contribute to society, through labour and taxes? The personal value of work might feel clearer if your job is rewarding and well paid, but less so if you're on a low income. What is the moral value of work? Presenter: Michael Buerk Producer: Jonathan Hallewell Assistant Producer: Ruth Purser Editor: Tim Pemberton

This week it emerged that Abdul Ezedi, hunted by police after an attack on a woman and her daughters with a corrosive liquid, was granted asylum after being convicted of sexual assault. He'd converted to Christianity, which could have put him at risk in his native Afghanistan. It's just the latest story stirring debate about one of the most divisive issues of our times - immigration. In 2022 net migration hit a record 745,000. That's more people than live in many of Britain's biggest cities. Last week the Office for National Statistics predicted that the population could rise by nearly 10% between 2021 and 2036. The overwhelming majority of immigrants are legal. Economists are split on the costs and benefits of immigration. Some suggest that it could help tackle a demographic timebomb as our population ages. Britain also attracts some of the world's most capable and highly qualified people, driving up our wealth-creating potential. National life is enriched culturally and socially. Isn't there also a moral imperative to open our doors to people from countries troubled by war, oppression and climate change? But immigration has been high for decades without a clear electoral mandate. Some neighbourhoods have been transformed, raising concerns over social cohesion. It's added to the pressure on housing and on creaking public services. Is it right that whole industries rely on immigrants willing to work for low pay – social care, health and hospitality? What is a desirable level of immigration? How should the balance be struck between the demands of our economy and social cohesion? What's the moral case for immigration?Presenter: Michael Buerk Producer: Jonathan Hallewell Assistant Producer: Linda Walker Editor: Tim Pemberton

It's Valentine's Day, when we celebrate romantic love, and is there anything more romantic than getting married? It's the way all those old films end, after all the “will they, won't they”, the couple finally tie the knot, the titles roll and we all enjoy the warm certainty that they're sorted for life. What's not to love about marriage? A lifelong commitment to care for each other... a solemn promise rooted in love… perhaps the foundation for starting a family. But for many, marriage is losing its gloss. The latest government figures suggest that the proportion of adults in England and Wales who are married has, for the first time, fallen below 50%. The rise of pre-nuptial agreements signals a change in levels of confidence about marriage. Is forever still forever? If it probably isn't – then let's just plan ahead for when it all goes wrong. We live much longer than in the past, so “til death us do part” is likely to be a very long time indeed. Perhaps it's now unreasonable to expect a lifelong commitment. Short of that, are human beings even built for monogamy? If love dies in a marriage, should that be the end, or is marital commitment broader than that? There is some evidence that outcomes for children are better if parents are married, and some people see it as a fundamental building block of society. But is there a moral value to marriage? Is it a striving for what is finest about being human, the highest realisation of not just romantic love, but of that important social unit – the couple? Or just an old fashioned idea, rooted in outdated traditions, all wrapped up in a sentimental rose tinted fantasy?Presenter: Michael Buerk Producers: Jonathan Hallewell and Peter Everett Assistant Producer: Ruth Purser Editor: Tim Pemberton

It emerged this week that scientists in South Korea have created a new kind of “meaty” rice, with high levels of protein.  The grains are packed with beef muscle and fat cells – all grown in a lab.  It's just the latest of many meat-alternatives that are helping people to eat less meat.  Supermarkets are responding to public demand by offering an ever wider choice of plant-based foods.  But while we might not need to eat meat, most of us really enjoy it.The goal posts are shifting in the age old debate about the morality of meat.  Whatever you think about the industrial breeding of animals, to be slaughtered and served up for our pleasure, there's now another compelling argument for us to stop, or at least cut back – meat production significantly contributes to climate change.  In the last decade, the number of vegans in the UK has increased steeply, but it's still small. Estimates vary between about 2% and 3% of the population.  Many more are vegetarian, who avoid meat and fish, but eat dairy.  There are also flexitarians, who mainly choose a plant-based diet, but do occasionally eat meat.   A moral argument that was once focused on whether humans have the right to exploit animals has become a broader debate that includes protecting the planet for future generations.  Some say it's natural for humans to eat meat, indeed we have evolved to do so.  Others think it's barbaric and the effects of the meat and dairy industry on the climate have made the argument for veganism overwhelming.   What's the moral case for veganism?Presenter: Michael Buerk Producer: Jonathan Hallewell Assistant Producer: Ruth Purser Editor: Tim Pemberton

The last week saw two contrasting examples of how societies treat killers. Valdo Calocane, who killed three people in Nottingham and tried to kill three more, avoided jail and was instead sent to a secure hospital for life because of his mental illness. One of the victim's relatives protested that he “got away with murder”. Meanwhile in America, convicted murderer Kenneth Smith became the first person in the US to be executed using nitrogen gas.Calocane's charge was reduced to manslaughter on the grounds of diminished responsibility because of his paranoid schizophrenia. The mother of one of his victims objected and complained that the families were not consulted. The Attorney General will be reviewing the sentence. It's raised questions about what punishment is for: Is it for criminals – to provide the suffering they deserve, or reform them or deter future offenders? Or is it for victims – providing retribution and a sense of fairness to them? Victims are uniquely placed to appreciate the true impact of crime, so shouldn't their perspective have a greater weight in the judicial process? Would a bigger role for victims improve or hinder justice? What's the purpose of punishment and can it ever provide justice for the most serious offenders, and their victims?Presenter: Michael Buerk Producer: Jonathan Hallewell Assistant Producer: Linda Walker Editor: Tim Pemberton

It's now nearly two years since Russia began its full scale invasion of Ukraine. Hopes that Ukraine might seize back its territory have been dashed, in a conflict that's become deadlocked. At first it felt clear – the invasion is wrong, Putin must fail and be seen to fail, Ukraine's defiance and bravery must be supported with everything its allies can provide. But as the death, destruction and bloodshed continues, with little sign of progress on either side, questions have been raised about how the war might ever be brought to an end. How realistic is it for Ukraine to aspire to recapture all of its land, even Crimea? This year's US presidential election has sharpened the focus: A Trump victory could threaten Ukraine's future supply of arms. Some believe Russia would settle for the land it has already captured. If so, for Ukraine the bitter pill of ceding some 20% of its territory would at least bring the war to an end. But what's the moral case for this? What's the real value of peace – bought at the cost of justice? If western powers are seen to allow aggression to win the day in Ukraine, what message would that send to Vladimir Putin and other tyrants around the world? In Ukraine, what's the moral case for ceding land for peace?Presenter: Michael Buerk Producer: Jonathan Hallewell Assistant Producer: Linda Walker Editor: Tim Pemberton

Nearly a decade since MPs in Westminster voted against allowing terminally ill people to end their own life, assisted dying is climbing back up the political agenda. The Health and Social Care Committee is due to publish the first report of its kind on the subject after a year-long inquiry. Meanwhile, the Labour Leader Sir Keir Starmer has said there are "grounds for changing the law”, UK medical bodies continue to drop their opposition to the idea, and polls suggest around two-thirds of the public are in favour. Assisted dying raises profound moral questions which shake the core of our humanity. What does it mean to live – and to die – well? Is it more dignified to live with suffering or to die without it? If life is a sacred gift, and a marker of our equal dignity, should we, or anyone else, be able to control when it ends? If death is the most dignified response to suffering, how much suffering is too much, and who should decide?Those who describe constant physical pain and a loss of bodily autonomy say that isn't living at all. Should we be guided principally by compassion in these situations? Or does the good intention of irradicating suffering risk a chilling effect in which people are pressured into re-appraising whether their lives are worth living?Is it time to allow assisted dying? Panel: Mona Siddiqui, Inaya Folarin Iman, Matthew Taylor, Giles Fraser Witnesses: Rabbi Dr Jonathan Romain, Professor Kevin Yuill, Zoe Hyatt Marley, Dr Miro Griffiths Producer: Dan Tierney.

Is it moral to attach identity labels to ourselves and others? We often label people by nationality, gender, sexuality, ethnicity, religion, disability and many more categories. Is this a good and helpful or something that should be avoided? The King has said that he wants the UK to be ‘a community of communities', whereas some commentators have said that this is a call for permanent racial division in our society. Have the use of labels increased or diminished racism and other forms of prejudice society? Labels can identify an individual as a member of a collective. Others want the unique identity of each of us to be respected for its differences from everyone else. If our loyalty should be to a group, should that group be defined by the colour of its skin, its politics or its passports? Panellists: Giles Fraser, Sonia Sodha, Tim Stanley & Ash Sarkar Producer: Peter Everett

Should politicians respect, despise, accommodate or ignore public opinion? Rishi Sunak is looking for a policy he can pop into place between now and the general election that will avoid a Labour landslide. He is being advised that abolishing inheritance tax will tickle the tummies of the Tory not-so-faithful. Meanwhile, Sir Keir Starmer wants government planners to “bulldoze” local objections when deciding where to put new housing developments. Can a government get away with ignoring public opinion? Well, it can in constituencies it's never going to win. Politics nowadays is not merely ‘guided' by polls, surveys, databases and focus groups… it is controlled by them. But is that good for the country? Is the advice they generate either wise or moral? Are the public obsessed with issues that don't matter, while they ignore the ones that do? There is a case to be made against taking any notice of what the public thinks about anything. We know that the public thinks short-term, and that its opinions on political issues are ill-informed. Public opinion is inconsistent, incoherent and volatile. And yet democracy is built on the principle that the majority must get its way. And it's not just politicians (and Simon Cowell) who flatter the electorate with talk of the ‘wisdom' of the Great British Public. Lots of people seem to think that majority opinion will usually be wise, kind and helpful. But then, many also believe the moon landing was staged. Panellists: Anne McElvoy, Melanie Philips, Mona Siddiqui & Matthew Taylor Presenter: Michael Buerk Producers: Peter Everett & Jonathan Hallewell Editor: Tim Pemberton

The Met police has warned of a "growing" risk of violence and disorder this Remembrance weekend. The Prime Minister has described a planned pro-Palestinian protest in London on Armistice Day as “provocative and disrespectful” to those who wish to remember the war dead “in peace and dignity”. The Chief Rabbi Ephraim Mirvis said it was "a stain on our common humanity" that so many seem to have "lost sight of the moral distance between Hamas and Israel". Others, however, strongly refute the description of the demonstrations as “hate marches”, believing that the protesters should be allowed to campaign for a ceasefire and an end to the killing; and to show solidarity with Palestinians without undermining either the remembrance events or the humanity of Israelis. The polarising nature of the Israel-Hamas war and its repercussions in the UK has resulted in both sides accusing the other of ‘weaponising' remembrance. Public attitudes to commemoration have changed over the last century and notions of a country honouring the ultimate sacrifice of its soldiers can be hard to disentangle politically from conflicts of the day. What are we really doing on Remembrance Day? While for some it is a deep expression of sorrow for the dead and a formal commitment to peace, others believe it risks celebrating past acts of killing, which translates into justifying present militarism and violence. If rising conflicts around the world suggest humanity has not learned from the mistakes of the past – what is the moral purpose of remembrance? How should we remember the dead as well as those who are living through conflict today? Producer: Dan Tierney.

The UK's prisons are full, their corridors are understaffed and their Victorian buildings are crumbling. The answer, at least at the moment, is to lock up fewer criminals. The justice secretary has announced plans this week to phase out short sentences – anything less than 12 months - because they produce “hardened criminals rather than rehabilitated offenders.” Prison reformers have long argued that short sentences don't work anyway, citing a reoffending rate of over 50%. Others believe that the justice system is already too soft. Community sentences, they insist, send out the wrong message to criminals and open the door to further lawbreaking. Who should and who shouldn't go to prison? There's a wider question; are prisons upholding or undermining justice? Reform campaigners say that prisons are failing both society and the prisoners themselves. The best outcome for everyone is the rehabilitation of criminals, and if that isn't possible inside prison, it should be explored outside. Others see the redemption of criminals as secondary to justice for their victims and protection for their communities. Depending on how people see it, prisons are either too harsh or too lax. How should the justice system decide whether to wield the carrot or the stick? Can punishment itself be a necessary step towards rehabilitation? Or is prison too often a futile expression of collective vengeance? Are prisons doing more harm than good? Producer: Dan Tierney.

The surprise attack by Hamas was devastating, leaving hundreds of Israeli civilians dead, injured or taken hostage. Israel's response was swift, with airstrikes on Gaza killing hundreds of Palestinians, including children. The scale of the attack was unprecedented, but the cycle of violence and escalation is all too familiar in this land that has been contested for more than a century. Now another generation sees the bloodshed at first hand. Hamas is dedicated to the destruction of Israel, so for many Jews this is about survival. At the same time, many Palestinians have come to see Israel as a brutal oppressor. Each side sees the other as an existential threat. Even those who refuse to define their neighbours across the Gaza border as ‘the enemy' may find themselves defined in those terms against their will – and threatened with death. How should we understand conventional rules of morality in such intractable circumstances? What is a proportionate response to an act of aggression? And what conditions are necessary for a realistic peace process to take hold? Perhaps the most radical statement in all of human history is “love your enemies”. Those who are pessimistic about peace in the Middle East might dismiss that as naïve. But there are some who can give us real-life examples of the human capacity to rise above anger and grief for a greater good. How should we think about our enemies? With Rabbi Yehoshua Pfeffer, Atef Alshaer, Gabrielle Rifkind, Rami Elhanan and Bassam Aramin. Producer: Dan Tierney.

The BBC has published new guidance on how its big name presenters can use social media. Those working in news and current affairs are still bound by strict rules on impartiality, which the BBC sees as being fundamental to its reputation, values and the trust of its audiences. But the presenters of other programmes are free to express their political views, as long as they don't “endorse or attack a political party." While impartiality means not favouring one side over another, news broadcasters are subject to a subtler version of it: “due impartiality”. That means different perspectives don't necessarily have to be given equal weight. But which perspectives and how much weight? That's a matter of judgment. The changing media landscape has brought new challenges to the principle of impartiality. The media regulator Ofcom has recently investigated GB News. Among their alleged breaches of impartiality was an item in which the Conservative Chancellor was interviewed by two other Conservative MPs. The spiritual heirs of Lord Reith believe that media impartiality is a moral good and a central pillar of democracy in an age of populism and polarisation. Sceptics suggest that the pursuit of impartiality can create problems of its own, putting ignorance and expertise on an equal footing. Beyond broadcasting, how much should we as individuals strive for impartiality? Is it possible to look at historical events through an objective lens? While psychology tells us we all have cognitive biases, psychologists disagree about how much they can be corrected. Is it possible to be truly impartial about ourselves and others? Producer: Dan Tierney

Michael Buerk chairs a special Moral Maze debate recorded at 'HowTheLightGetsIn' festival of philosophy and music. The language of freedom permeates our political debate. In the US, it may be a decisive battleground in the 2024 presidential election. The problem is that people mean very different things by it. Is it freedom from government regulation or freedom to have an abortion? Freedom of speech or freedom from discrimination? Freedom to own a gun or freedom for communities to ban them? A distinction is often made between positive and negative freedom. Negative freedom is the absence of constraints (‘freedom from') – while positive freedom is the possibility of acting in such a way as to take control of one's life (‘freedom to'). Libertarians often see individual freedom - the private enjoyment of one's life and goods, free from interference – as the most fundamental value that any society should pursue and protect. This view is challenged by those who believe wealth, health and educational inequalities inevitably mean some people are more free than others, and seek instead to promote the collective freedom of society as a whole. If a society in which there is a complete absence of restraint is as dystopian as one in which our every action is controlled, how should we navigate the trade-offs between individual freedom and other goods, like security and collective wellbeing? Is the language of freedom helpful or harmful in negotiating our political differences? Deeper question: what does it mean for a human being to be free? With guests: Konstantin Kisin, Sophie Howe and James Orr. Producer: Dan Tierney.

Labour has confirmed that it plans to allow 16 and 17 year-olds to vote in elections, in line with Scotland and Wales. The idea, they say, is to empower younger people by engaging them in the democratic process. Some older members of the electorate might raise the question of whether people under 18 have the maturity to vote. It would be no surprise to hear that argument, we were all children once and we know that adults think they're superior. It's nearly fifty years since the concept of “childism” was first coined by psychiatrists, to describe the automatic assumption of superiority of any adult over any child. Now, perhaps, childism is the last permissible prejudice. Discrimination that would seem shocking if applied to any other group is exercised against children and regarded as quite appropriate. Children's freedom is constantly restricted and their views are generally dismissed. They're told what to do, what to eat, what to wear, even what to say. Is this just responsible parenting or does it verge on oppression? Children's minds aren't fully developed, and they're less well equipped to make smart decisions. They also need limits and it's surely the job of adults to impose them, but where should the line be drawn? We should keep children safe, of course, but after that… is it better to be strict or to allow them maximum autonomy? What's the moral basis on which we make that judgement? Attitudes have changed over the decades. We've moved on from the axiom that “children should be seen and not heard.” A survey out last week suggested that parents in Britain place less importance on instilling obedience in children than parents in most other countries. But maybe a little obedience would be no bad thing? What's the moral case for exercising power over children and young people? Presenter: Michael Buerk Producer: Jonathan Hallewell Editor: Tim Pemberton

School's out for summer. For many, holidays are a chance to rest, unwind and empty the mind of work. For others, the long break brings additional pressures and stresses, such as childcare. It's a period when inaction and inactivity are to be celebrated and envied. What does that reveal about our priorities? During the pandemic, many people got a glimpse of what it was like to live more simply. Aristotle writes that the greatest possible human good is contemplation, a life lived remote from endless activity. Economics has taught us that our time is money, which is a necessity. But for some it has turned human beings into ‘human doings' – units of productivity. The philosopher Bertrand Russell wrote “In Praise of Idleness” in 1932, at the height of the Great Depression, in which he called for nothing less than a total re-evaluation of work – and of leisure. Throughout history, however, idleness has, more often than not, had a bad press. St Benedict described it as “the enemy of the soul”. Sloth is one of the seven deadly sins – a failure to do what should be done. The greatest danger of idleness, some believe, is that it can slide from a state of inaction to a state of purposelessness. That's why Christianity has long seen the positive moral value, the character-building nature, of hard work. Is idleness good for us? Producer: Dan Tierney.

Wimbledon, the Ashes, the Proms and George Osborne's wedding have all been interrupted by ‘Just Stop Oil' protesters in recent days. Several areas of London have been brought to a standstill, provoking the ire of motorists and leading to multiple arrests. ‘Just Stop Oil' describes itself as a “nonviolent civil resistance group demanding the UK Government stop licensing all new oil, gas and coal projects”. The Prime Minister Rishi Sunak said he wouldn't be “giving in to eco-zealots” disrupting the British summer. The group's supporters believe that blocking traffic, interrupting sporting events and vandalising artwork, are entirely proportionate in the face of an existential crisis bequeathed to our children and grandchildren. Right now, they argue, parts of Europe are literally on fire, and there is no more time left to wait for those in power to do the right thing. Their critics object to the fact that the targets of the protests are often ordinary people, who have more immediate concerns like the rising cost of living. Moreover, some believe the use of apocalyptic language is less likely to elicit a change in behaviour, since despair, like indifference, is not a good motivator. How might our descendants judge today's climate activists? Successful movements for social change, like the Suffragettes, have historically been disrupters who, in the face of inaction, adopt increasingly radical tactics. For some, the spirit they embody is irrepressible and necessary, which means that their methods cannot always be peaceful. For others, social progress can only be fully achieved through conventional democratic means. Are acts of civil disobedience and sabotage by climate activists morally justifiable? Producer: Dan Tierney.

As NATO meets this week, the US is seeking to calm its critics over sending cluster bombs to Ukraine. Cluster munitions are banned by many countries – including the UK and most EU members. They are more indiscriminate and can leave unexploded bomblets scattered over a wide area, posing a lethal threat to civilians years after a conflict has ended. The US, which is not a signatory to the 2008 Convention on Cluster Munitions, argues that supplying these weapons is justified in the defence of Ukraine, that civilian areas would be avoided and that records would be kept to facilitate a clean-up operation after the war. While some see this as a clear concession of the moral high ground, others disagree. As one US congressman put it, “the only way it erodes the moral high ground is if either you're an idiot, or you're rooting for Russia in this conflict." What should be the ethical rules of conduct in warfare, when the goal of opposing armies is to perpetrate, and sometimes maximise, death and destruction? For some, the tragedy of war is the suspension of ethical norms. And yet, certain fundamental principles, such as proportionality of violence and discrimination between enemy combatants and non-combatants, have existed for centuries to prevent the ends being justified by any means necessary in battle. But what if the enemy has no regard for these rules? How should they be interpreted outside a philosophy seminar and in the chaos of war? While the character of war is changing, the fundamental moral issues have not. When, in warfare, is it acceptable to violate ethical principles in the hope of achieving a greater good? Producer: Dan Tierney.

Thames Water, which serves a quarter of the UK population, is billions of pounds in debt and on the brink of insolvency. The company has received heavy criticism, and calls for it to be nationalised, following a series of sewage discharges and leaks. The energy sector, railway companies, and the Royal Mail have faced a similar outcry in recent months. When it comes to the provision of services which are essential for our national life, the calculation is often utilitarian: which form of ownership, public or private, leads to the greater social good? Many believe that the private water, rail and energy companies are simply failing to serve the public. Meanwhile, although polling suggests most people want to keep the NHS under public ownership, many of the health outcomes of patients compare less favourably to other European countries. The privatisation versus nationalisation debate is about more than outcomes: it highlights competing visions of the good society. For some, the private sector gives us more freedom of choice as moral agents. For others, a ‘market mentality' has crept into more and more aspects of our social and communal life, including education, and the result has been the erosion of our own moral obligations towards each other. Can the motivation for profit co-exist alongside a vision of the common good? What moral responsibilities should private companies have to society? And what are the moral limits of markets? Producer: Dan Tierney.

Comparisons have been made between the news coverage of two tragedies at sea. The first was the capsizing of a boat off the coast of Greece, in which more than 500 migrants from the Middle East and Africa are thought to have drowned. The second is the catastrophic implosion of the Titan submersible carrying five people, including a billionaire explorer, who paid a huge amount of money to see the wreck of the Titanic. While the first story made the news, the second story was rolling news. Moral Maze panellist Ash Sarkar faced a backlash when she tweeted about what she saw as the “grotesque inequality of sympathy, attention and aid... Migrants are “meant” to die at sea; billionaires aren't.” This raises the question of the moral purpose of the news – particularly when it comes to public service broadcasting – and the difference between reporting what people want to know and what they need to know. For some, the ‘ticking clock' coverage of the Titan tragedy was ghoulish and sensationalist. For others it was merely a reflection of the trajectory of the story: the hope, the endeavour and the jeopardy. Then there is a question of scale – does a larger body count have a greater moral claim to be covered by the news? Or is it natural for British media to reflect a greater sense of empathy for British citizens? What makes the news, what is left out, and how it is covered, is a decision made by editorial teams and individuals with their own view of what is 'newsworthy'. But what about our responsibilities as consumers of news? Does the demand for immediate clickbait sensationalism over thoughtful analysis from the other side of the world create a news environment which is out of kilter with what matters? Is this simply human nature or something we should seek to redress? What news stories should make a moral claim on our attention? Producer: Dan Tierney.

Scientists have created the first synthetic human embryos using stem cells. The breakthrough could help research into genetic disorders, but it raises ethical questions about the creation of life without the need for eggs or sperm. While nobody is currently suggesting growing these embryos into a baby, the rapid progress has outpaced the law. This prompts a wider question: instead of society having to play catch up with science, should we be having a more frank conversation about the moral responsibilities of science itself? Some believe that scientists need their own version of the Hippocratic Oath, a regulatory system of ethical standards, similar to doctors. Others think that will stifle creativity, enthusiasm and academic freedom. The human drive for discovery is the engine of progress – and we have demonstrably never had it so good. But are there things we should not want to discover? Are we capable of making a conscious decision to say “no further” if the potential consequences of pursuing knowledge are both good and bad? For some, science is morally-neutral, its advancement is inevitable, and it's down to society to set the rules about what to do with the findings of scientific research. For others, simply relying on the moral-neutrality of science could be humanity's fatal flaw, and there should be more democratically-accountable oversight of the research. If that's the case, where should the ethical lines be drawn? As well as the consequentialist arguments, some make the distinction between science as a means of discovering the natural world and ruling it; in religious terms, between seeking to understand God and ‘playing God'. When, if ever, should we apply the brakes on science? Producer: Dan Tierney.

It's almost impossible to imagine why anyone would risk a perilous crossing over cold, dark waters in an inflatable dinghy. This is a story of humankind: the despair – or ambition – that drove them, the wickedness of the traffickers who exploited them, and the moral dilemma of those of us already living where they want to go. History is all about borders. Two cross-party reports out this week have sought to inform the political and moral response to the ‘Illegal Migration Bill', currently making its way through Parliament, which proposes that people who come to the UK “illegally” will be detained and permanently removed. The Commons Joint Committee on Human Rights concludes that the bill, “breaches a number of the UK's international human rights obligations”. Meanwhile, a Home Affairs select committee report states there is "little evidence" Albanians are at risk in their country and need asylum in the UK. Migration brings into focus the competing worldviews of universalism and localism. Universalists argue that the world is shrinking, and that pandemics and climate change reveal our interdependence as one global community. It is neither moral nor in the national interest, they argue, to erect bigger borders out of a sense of protectionism. Their opponents see borders as not just territorial or political, but intrinsically moral. Borders, in their view, create moral communities in which people feel rooted and valued. How much should a country be willing to compromise the integrity of its boundaries out of compassion for non-citizens? Is it unjust to see people differently, based on where lines are drawn on a map? Would a world without borders be a better place? Producer: Dan Tierney.

Try telling the hordes of Manchester City fans heading to the Champions League final this weekend that the beautiful game has an ugly side. The team is on the verge of sealing an historic first Treble and glory awaits. Rival fans, however, claim they've bought success, with the wealth of their Abu Dhabi owners. The eye-watering sums of money invested in top-flight football raises moral questions for all fans, some of whom may feel they are entering into a Faustian pact. Newcastle United's recent takeover by an investment fund with strong links to the Saudi state, has prompted concerns about ‘sportswashing' – a means by which ethically dubious regimes direct attention away from their poor human rights records. Some worry that the commercialisation and uneven distribution of wealth in the game has priced hardworking fans out of watching their team, while leaving some community clubs on the brink of insolvency. There is unease not just about the institution of football but about its culture. Across Europe, high-profile black players are targets of racist abuse, there are hardly any openly gay footballers and female officials are subjected to misogyny. Others see football, on balance, as a moral force for good. Our society, they say, would be worse off without it. Far from encouraging a toxic tribalism, enthusiasts believe football brings communities together. They cite grassroots projects, funded by footballing authorities, clubs and individual players, which often go under the radar and transform people's lives. For many fans, football is a language that knows no borders, and their home ground is a cathedral of collective transcendence. Football could be seen as a microcosm of life – the agony, the extasy, the drama, the messiness, the humanity – just ask the people of Wrexham, whose Hollywood owners, they believe, have not just injected money into their club, but meaning into their town. Producer: Dan Tierney.

The gender-critical philosopher Kathleen Stock's address to the Oxford Union this week has divided academics at the university. One group has signed a letter expressing concern that student opposition to her invite goes against free speech. A second group has written an open letter supporting the students and stating that revoking an invite is not the same as preventing someone from speaking. This case is seen by many as an example of so-called ‘cancel culture'. ‘Cancel culture' has become such a common term that it is not always easy to understand what precisely it means and what its implications are for society. Media organisations have always made judgements about who should and should not receive a platform. What some view as censorship, others see as curating their own experience of who and what they interact with. Cancel culture on the left is often characterised as a form of secular puritanism denouncing the ‘sins' of the age, while, as perceived on the right, it can have an overtly religious justification in the defence of so-called traditional liberal values. Those who view cancel culture as a threat to Western liberal democracy point to dramatic historic parallels: witch hunts, inquisitions, book banning. Others reflect that ostracization and social shunning have always existed as a form of accountability for an individual's actions. Is there a difference between a person being accountable for their behaviour and being accountable for their ideas? If not, who decides what are ‘unacceptable' ideas? Should we understand cancel culture as a deterioration of the public sphere, symptomatic of a growing illiberalism, or does it reflect the convulsions of a free society which is morally evolving into something better?

The tragic death of primary headteacher Ruth Perry, who took her own life when her school was set to be downgraded to “inadequate”, has prompted widespread anger from teachers and calls to reform or abolish Ofsted. Ruth Perry's family believes that the stress of the inspection led to her suicide, and this week an article in the British Medical Journal argued that “every work-related suicide” should be investigated by the Health and Safety Executive. While some see this as an important intervention in seeking to understand and prevent further suicides, others are concerned that speculation about direct causal 'triggers' can oversimplify a complex issue. The Samaritans' media guidelines state: “vulnerable people experiencing similar issues are more likely to over-identify with the deceased when a single reason is given”. Moreover, others are worried about the ‘weaponisation' of individual cases of suicide by campaign groups seeking to advance wider political aims. Suicide is a highly sensitive issue and the way we talk about it matters. Across different times and cultures it has been seen as both honourable and sinful. Today, most responses start from a place of compassion, based on a better understanding of mental health. While it is vital to understand, prevent and treat suicidal thoughts, should we ever seek to rationalise or explain suicide? That question is also pertinent in the debate around assisted dying. For some, choosing to end one's life in this way is a rational decision we should be allowed to make in certain circumstances, for others, that social acceptance would have a far-reaching impact on people's perception of the worthwhileness of their life. How should we talk about suicide? Producer: Dan Tierney. If you are suffering distress or despair and need support, including urgent support, a list of organisations that can help is available at www.bbc.co.uk/actionline

AI – the end of humanity or the next evolutionary step? Computers are becoming more powerful. Much more powerful. Last week, Gordon Moore, the co-founder of Intel Corporation died. A computer industry billionaire, he came up with ‘Moore's Law' which observed that the power of computers doubles every couple of years. Today a microchip can contain 50 billion transistors, each narrower than a strand of human DNA. The war of the robots has begun. Microsoft's ‘ChatGPT' and its rival, Google's ‘Bard' allow you to have a conversation with a computer, much as you would with another person. But it's not just talk. As well as writing essays, presentations, legal documents and sermons, artificial intelligence can also produce art. We've accepted that machines can beat us at chess, but might they soon also beat us at poetry, painting and music? Could they make Shakespeare look second rate? Or will art without human input always be worthless? Some people are impressed by the quality of what AI can create, but others are scared. It's one thing for computers to process our knowledge, but quite another when a machine starts to teach itself. If it behaves just like a real person, will we trust it more than we should? Can machines display morality and if not, is it safe to allow them to make decisions for us? We worry that AI might take over our jobs, but should we really be worrying that it might replace humanity altogether? Some see AI as the next evolutionary step, the latest development by mankind, with potential to transform lives for the better. But what are the risks in asking technology, however impressive, to solve human problems? Should we be excited by AI, or could artificial intelligence mark the start of the end of humanity? Producer: Jonathan Hallewell Presenter: Michael Buerk Editor: Tim Pemberton

Is Growth a False God? Last week's budget was, according to the Chancellor, about growth. Whenever politicians talk about their plans these days, it's always about growth. The arguments are clear: Until we generate more growth, we can't get any richer and wages can't increase either. It's urgent too: The UK will be the only major economy apart from Russia to shrink this year, according to forecasts from the OECD. But not everyone is convinced that increasing growth makes us happier, or even that it's sustainable. Some believe the pursuit of growth attaches too little value to wellbeing, that it neglects what should be the real priority, people's contentment and happiness. Government policies lead us, they claim, to work harder and for longer than we want to. They suggest it creates a culture that values our economic activity, earning money and spending it, over other important roles such as caring for children and elderly relatives, maintaining our community, or charitable work. Some ecological economists believe that endless growth is unachievable without climate breakdown, that it simply can't be sustained without irreversible damage to the planet. What is the moral case for the pursuit of growth? The political orthodoxy is that a growing economy is good for everyone. Growth drives up pay; welfare payments depend on tax revenues; pension providers rely on stock market growth for their returns. So don't we all have an interest in continuous growth? Or have we created a world where our leaders care more about GDP than our happiness? Has growth become a false God? Producer: Jonathan Hallewell Presenter: Michael Buerk Editor: Tim Pemberton

Is pacifism virtuous, admirable, impractical, immoral or stupid? War and militarism are in the news every day. In the Budget, the Chancellor announced an extra £11bn in defence spending over the next five years, to counter threats from hostile states. It comes alongside news of a new defence pact with the US and Australia in response to Chinese military power. The war in Ukraine has seen advanced weapons rushed in by Western countries to support the fight against Russia. But alongside the talk of battles and territory won and lost, there is also talk of the horrors of war. There are renewed demands for peace, and some say it should be peace at any price. In Germany, protest marchers assert that sending more weapons to Ukraine pours fuel on the fire, causing more death, misery and destruction. They claim to detect a change of mood and point out that the latest film adaptation of “All Quiet on the Western Front”, a 1929 novel by the German pacifist, Erich Maria Remarque, has just picked up four Oscars to add to its 14 Baftas. Western leaders insist that Russia most lose the war, and be seen to lose, but is it really better to create more bloodshed, sacrifice more lives, in order to achieve something closer to justice? Forcing Ukraine to negotiate now and inevitably cede territory could bring the violence to an end and start the process of rebuilding. Or is that “giving in” and encouraging further aggression by Russia and others? Is pacifism virtuous and admirable? Immoral and stupid? Or is it, perhaps just impractical? What is the moral case for choosing peace over justice? Producer: Jonathan Hallewell Presenter: William Crawley Editor: Gill Farrington

Breach of Trust When the journalist Isabel Oakeshott broke her promise and passed Matt Hancock's personal WhatsApp messages to the Daily Telegraph, was she morally justified in doing so? She didn't just go back on her word to the former health secretary, but broke a legally-binding Non Disclosure Agreement. She claims that "no journalist worth their salt" would have acted otherwise and insists her obligations to Mr Hancock were outweighed by the public interest served by releasing the messages. But others see it differently. It was, they claim, a decision aimed at promoting her own view that government lockdown measures during the pandemic were excessive. Journalists often cite the "public interest" when it can seem that their actions are more about advancing a particular cause, or about selling their story because the "public are interested". Aside from journalism, when is a breach of trust justified in any human relationship? For many professionals, there's an understanding that confidentiality does sometimes have to be broken. The police, social workers, doctors, teachers and even the clergy grapple with often difficult judgements about the morality of betraying trust. At times, promises are broken with the justification that it's for "the greater good". But is there really no such a thing as a truly solemn "never to be broken" promise? Or are all our confidences, our shared stories and discreet conversations rather loose arrangements, conditional on other loyalties and pressures? In our personal relationships, should we be less ready to make promises we can't keep, and also avoid asking others to do the same? What are the moral limits to our obligation to keep a secret, and how can we know when it's right to breach someone's trust? Producer: Jonathan Hallewell Presenter: William Crawley Editor: Helen Grady

Leaders with Faith The first hustings in the election of the new leader of the Scottish National Party were held this week. The winner will become Scotland's first minister. But so far the coverage of the campaign has been more about religion than policy. One of the three candidates, Kate Forbes is a member of the Free Church of Scotland and has faced criticism from within her party for saying that she would have voted against gay marriage, had she been an MSP in 2014. She also said that according to her religious beliefs, having a child outside of marriage was wrong. Several of her backers have withdrawn their support and others have questioned whether such views make her an appropriate choice to lead the country. But why should traditional religious beliefs like this be a barrier to achieving high office? Forbes insists that it's possible to be a person of faith, while still supporting the rights of others. Although she would have opposed the legalisation of same sex marriage, she says that as a “servant of democracy” she would now defend the legal right to gay marriage “to the hilt”. Religious belief used to be seen by most people as a private matter. It was also generally regarded as a positive attribute in a senior politician, evidence perhaps of a strong moral compass. So what has changed in our attitudes to faith and should it affect how we choose our leaders? Producer: Jonathan Hallewell Presenter: Michael Buerk

How should Britain make amends for its colonial past? Should museums in the UK return historic artefacts to their countries of origin? Many items displayed in museums were looted in colonial times and now there are campaigns for them to be returned. There's a related question of whether Britain should pay reparations for its role in the slave trade. Attitudes to both of these questions have shifted in recent years. Some of the Benin Bronzes, looted by the British Army in 1897 have been returned to Nigeria. The British Museum is now in talks over how the Elgin Marbles, removed from the Parthenon Temple in Greece in the 19th century, might be displayed in Athens. Recently the Church of England set up a fund, worth £100m, to address the past wrongs of its involvement with slavery. The church has expressed shame that it invested in, and made money from the slave trade. The fund will be used to benefit communities affected by historic slavery. Several universities have taken similar steps. But is this an appropriate way to acknowledge the suffering caused during Britain's colonial past? Some believe that while it's appropriate to openly admit Britain's role in slavery, it's impossible to repair the damage done and it's wrong to expect British people today to pay reparation to the descendants of enslaved people. Others say that the economic cost of slavery is still being felt by those descendants. It's a debt that needs to be paid. It's also suggested that paying reparation is a valuable step in tackling the racism that still exists today. What moral obligations of restitution and reparation do we inherit from our ancestors? What rights of redress can we claim for what was done to our forebears? How should Britain make amends for its colonial past? Producer: Jonathan Hallewell Presenter: Michael Buerk

Why does God allow natural disasters to happen? The devastation following the recent earthquakes in Turkey and Syria has been appalling. Already more than 41,000 people have died. Extraordinary stories have emerged as people have been rescued after spending days trapped under rubble. Those small moments of respite have been greeted with heartfelt prayers of thanks for each life saved. The blame for the earthquake and the shocking loss of life has been placed not on God's shoulders, but on the planning officials and builders who allowed fragile homes to be built. But if God really is almighty and good, why does he allow natural disasters like this to happen? It's a recurring moral conundrum, but if God is given credit for the splendour and beauty of nature, why then isn't he also held responsible for the destruction and suffering caused by forces completely beyond the control of people? Some see this as a compelling argument against the existence of a good and almighty God. Others suggest that we can never fully understand divinity and it makes no sense to apply such crude moral questions to God. What is certain is that religion provides many believers with great consolation in times like this, when sorrow and suffering are all around. Also, many of those providing support in the rescue effort do so inspired by their faith. Producer: Jonathan Hallewell Presenter: Michael Buerk

In her first public comments since leaving office, the Ex-PM Liz Truss has argued that her plans to boost economic growth were brought down by "the left-wing economic establishment". Losing the confidence of the financial markets at a time of global uncertainty has made us all more aware of our income and expenditure. If the news accurately reflected our lives, it would be hard to escape the conclusion that life is all about money - inflation, interest rates, pay demands and profits. The overriding objective of measuring economic growth is to help as many people as possible to have more money. But how have we become so pre-occupied with what is, after all, an artificial construct that is intrinsically valueless – paper and numbers in themselves morally neutral? The love of money may be the root of all evil, but its use demands trust and co-operation, its possession brings freedom and agency. Money may have given much of humanity richer lives, in every way, but it's made us into transactional, rather than relational beings, and it corrupts as much as it enables; a tool that so often seems our master. It's impossible for us to judge when we have enough of it. If the best things in life are free, can we imagine a world without money – and would it be better? With Charlie Mullins, Darren McGarvey, Tomáš Sedláček and Anitra Nelson Producer: Dan Tierney.

Boris Johnson has described a chilling phone call in which Vladimir Putin threatened him with a missile strike in the run-up to Russia's invasion of Ukraine. Almost a year on from the start of the war, it's tempting to see it as a clear-cut conflict between good and evil; Putin the malign aggressor bent on destruction and conquest, Zelensky the courageous defender of liberty and his country. It may be true, or at least substantially so, but is it helpful? Seeing events through the prism of good and evil enables us to make moral judgements and define what we value. But it can also brush aside the ambiguities of complex situations and de-humanise both those we deem evil, and those we regard as good. Plato and St Augustine thought they were not opposites; that evil was the absence of good, a lack of moral imagination. Psychologists might prefer to dispense with the term ‘evil' altogether, seeing it as human behaviour to be explained and understood. Does evil exist? If so, what is it? And how should we deal with it? With Ed Condon, Professor Scott Atran, Professor Lars Svendsen and Professor Tony Maden Producer Dan Tierney

Nicola Sturgeon has argued for a wider debate on teenagers' rights, as she defended plans to allow 16-year-olds to change their legal gender in Scotland. Each society settles on its own thresholds to determine when a person is old enough to make informed decisions about matters including voting, having sex or drinking alcohol. This is a collective agreement about the legal point at which human beings reach maturity. But what is human maturity in moral terms? Aristotle warned against trusting the judgments of the young, saying, “they have exalted notions, because they have not been humbled by life or learned its necessary limitations”. Meanwhile, psychological studies suggest that the period of adolescence among Gen Z has extended – ‘25 is the new 18' – which means that ‘adult' roles and responsibilities now occur later than in they once did. All this is evidence, according to some, that teenagers' judgments are less likely to be sound than their elders, and rather than expecting them to be political beings, we should allow them to be kids. Conversely, there are those who argue that younger generations have been failed by a system that is rigged to favour the interests of older people; that they should play more of an active role in our democracy because their concerns are the concerns of the future; and that they are more likely to make better judgements about society because they are far more connected to the world and aware of their own values than previous generations. Should we trust children and teenagers to make good judgments about the future? Or, if active citizenship is the preserve of adulthood, what is an adult? Producer: Dan Tierney.

“Neither a borrower nor a lender be,” advised Shakespeare's Polonius. These words seem hopelessly out of touch in cost of living crisis with soaring inflation and astronomical levels of personal debt. The charity StepChange has warned that money borrowed by UK households to pay for Christmas could take years to repay. Meanwhile, a study by the Resolution Foundation suggests the British public are the worst in the developed world at saving. How did we get here? For some, our eye-popping indebtedness begins with a failure of personal responsibility, an absence of prudence, and an inability to discern between our ‘wants' and needs'. For others, the real problem is systemic, where borrowers are victims of a consumerist society that both pressurises and stigmatises the poorest. Pragmatists argue that debt itself is morally neutral and merely part of the furniture of modern life. Free market libertarians see debt as a democratising force, giving people greater personal agency. Whereas many religious and philosophical traditions have long believed that there is something intrinsically immoral about charging interest on lending. Is debt inevitable? Or a moral failing? If so, whose? Producer: Dan Tierney.

While no family is likely to have such a public falling out, anyone can surely relate the royal rift to tensions within their own family – the grudges, rivalries and feelings of betrayal. Prince Harry's words, “I would like to get my father back, I would like to have my brother back”, reveal the depth of hurt experienced by all involved. Families are places of nurturing and wounding; moral networks where expectations of love and loyalty are tested. When the often inevitable strife ensues, are our moral obligations to our family conditional or unconditional? It's often argued that there is something uniquely special about family bonds; that blood is thicker than water. Family members are the only people in our lives that are permanent and unchosen, they have known us since the beginning, and that connection can be grounding and valuable in helping us understand ourselves. We might feel instinctively that adult children have obligations to their aging parents, simply by virtue of them being a parent. Alternatively, we might see the relationship as contractual, where obligations are based on the love received – or the damage done – growing up. Or, we might believe we don't owe our families anything, regardless of how much we have benefitted from the relationships, and that our ties with family are no different to any other friendship. Moreover, many philosophers challenge the idea that we have special duties to someone just because we share their genetic material – by that logic, adopted children would have obligations to their biological parents who they've never met. As the 21st century definition of ‘family' widens, what are our ethical commitments to our family? Producer: Dan Tierney.

Thousands of complaints have been made to the press regulator about Jeremy Clarkson's column in the Sun newspaper, in which he expressed his hatred of Meghan Markle. His critics say he crossed a line in portraying her as someone who should be treated as less than human. He says he was making a clumsy TV reference and he's “horrified to have caused so much hurt”. For some, this is symptomatic of a wider culture which rewards extreme and unkind opinions, and that a right to free speech in a newspaper includes an obligation to uphold certain moral standards. Others say mainstream media commentators (and their editors) have no duty to be kind, only to tell the truth or present an honestly-held opinion. Kindness, courtesy and respect are notable by their absence in our so-called ‘culture wars'. Kindness can be seen as twee, while rudeness can be applauded. We might appeal superficially to kindness, but it can often be secondary to values of honesty, justice and responsibility. For some, the unkindness in our culture is a systemic problem, demanding a radical change in our technological, social and political structures. For others, it is fundamentally a human problem, requiring us to draw deeply from the well of ancient wisdom. The Christmas season approaches, when the ideal of goodwill is tested by the messy reality of human relationships. Is kindness the greatest virtue? What will it take for us all to be a little bit kinder? With Nana Akua, Alice Watkins, Edith Hall and Emily Kasriel. Producer: Dan Tierney.

Forget the advent calendar, it's a ‘strike calendar' we need to prepare for Christmas this year. Behind today's window lurks not a festive chocolate but a list of public service stoppages; not a robin on picket fence, but a postie on a picket line. Seasonal jokes aside, perhaps the heavy flurry of industrial action is a symptom of a deeper unease about the value we place on work. Critics of the strikes believe we have lost a sense of duty in our public services, that the public service ethos no longer means very much, and that work today is largely contractual rather than covenantal. Supporters of the strikes say there is nothing self-interested about wanting to earn a fair wage and that it's about recognising the value of public servants, over and above symbolic gestures like doorstep clapping. Some think we've placed too much emphasis on wealth as a measure of worth and that work should be about seeking to do something well, regardless of the monetary reward. Others believe that argument is laden with class-based assumptions and point to the disproportionately high salaries of bosses compared to their low-wage employees who don't have the choice to be romantic about the idea of a vocation. What do we work for? Producer: Dan Tierney.

For the first time, fewer than half of people in England and Wales describe themselves as Christian. For centuries in the West, Judeo-Christian values have underpinned moral reasoning and grounded our ethics. While ticking “no religion” on the census doesn't necessarily mean having no religious belief, should it concern us that this central story of our culture is fragmenting? Implicit in utilitarianism is the idea that we can do ethics without metaphysics. The Enlightenment hailed the triumph of scientific rationality over sacred revelation. Whereas, the French sociologist Emile Durkheim argued that in any society in a state of ‘anomie' – that is, lacking a shared moral code – there would be a rise in suicide. Secularists argue that the greatest examples of social progress of the last century have come about as a result of a loss of deference to religious moral authority. Religious leaders believe that it is precisely this moral authority that makes a society cohesive. Others think it doesn't matter where you get your moral guide from as long as you're looking for it. We live in an era of rapid social change, facing a new technological revolution, and all the ethical questions it poses. Does a religious-based ethics have the answers? Can ethics survive the death of religion? Producer: Dan Tierney.