Blake Hereth is a PhD Candidate at the University of Washington and current Chair of the APA Graduate Student Council. Ze works primarily in the ethics of self-defense and philosophy of religion and is co-editor of The Lost Sheep: New Perspectives on Race, Gender, Disability, and Animals in Philosophy of Religion(Routledge, forthcoming), which addresses underexplored issues in philosophy of religion.
What are you working on right now?
In terms of research, I’m pursuing a smorgasbord of projects, almost all of which are related to my work on self-defense. One co-authored paper argues that the right to physical security grounds a very strong kind of anti-natalism. Another tackles the question of whether theism, if it’s true, would impose any limits on permissible self-defense. (Spoiler: It would!) I’m also branching out somewhat and writing a more applied military ethics paper on the moral status of satellites during warfare, which I’ll present for the first time this summer at the International Society for Military Ethics conference in Colorado Springs.
Name a trait, skill, or characteristic that you have that others may not know about.
Weird skill: I can count the number of letters in words freakishly quickly. I also have the uncommon characteristic of being the first of eight children.
What common philosophical dilemma do you think has a clear answer?
There’s no single famous thought experiment behind the problem that I’m aware of, but the conditions under which it’s permissible to procreate strike me as an interesting philosophical dilemma. Most people think procreation is sometimes wrong, even if they think it’s often permissible. But even in cases where they think procreation is wrong, they often don’t think there’s an enforceable duty to prevent procreation, since this interferes with people’s bodily (including reproductive) rights. I’ve come to think this is an implausible middle ground and that some strong form of anti-natalism is true. First, because I don’t see how some of these cases (e.g., procreating while knowingly infected with Zika) aren’t instances of child abuse, which we usually think is enforceable. Second, because we can reasonably foresee the kinds of harms that will likely befall the average person — harms for which we’re therefore responsible regardless of their temporal distance from our procreative actions and regardless of whether we intend them. Think of it this way: We know our offspring will suffer some serious harms that, if we inflicted them ourselves, would make us morally liable to defensive harms, and we can avoid responsibility for those harms (as well as avoid the harms themselves altogether) by foregoing procreation. And contrary to what many in the West think, the duty to forego procreation seems to me like an enforceable duty. So, in the end, I think that something like China’s one child policy is reasonably good policy (at least in the abstract), except that permitting one child seems like one child too many!
What topic do you think is underexplored in philosophy?
Can. Of. Worms. I’ll summon some self-control and talk about just two things. (Content warning here for violence and talk of transphobia.) The first is pacifism. I’m keenly aware that most people think pacifism is obviously false and that the standard, anti-pacifist view is obviously true, but I find that position prima facie incredible. For my part, the fact that anti-pacifist views of permissible harming permit the painful killing of a culpable aggressor even if they will cry in agony for their loved ones as they die makes the anti-pacifist position anything but obvious. Maybe I’m too empathetic or maybe I have a weak stomach for justice, but I doubt it’s just that. Being responsible for such suffering, even to save my own life, strikes me as one of the least obviously permissible things in the world — light-years away from the obvious permissibility of, for example, loving your neighbor or tucking your puppies into bed. I suspect this is why killing brutalizes people: Not because they’ve done something they believe to be obviously right, but because they’re filled with doubts about what might have been, about their own motivations, and about the very principles of self-defense in which they once believed. So, at the very least, I think the kind of complacent anti-pacifism that’s often displayed should be reconsidered. The second issue I think is surprisingly underexplored this time in philosophy of religion are queer-positive contributions to philosophical theology. I’m non-binary trans, bisexual, and religious, and I suspect (okay, I know) the lack of attention to these issues is reflective of who is and who isn’t doing philosophy of religion. (Hint: Trans folks ain’t doing it!) This, despite the fact that these issues dovetail nicely with related literatures. For example, questions about trans identities and post-Resurrection or reincarnated embodiment are just begging to be explored by those working on the metaphysics of the Resurrection or reincarnation. The tide is fortunately turning, but it’s unfortunate that the existing shore is littered almost exclusively with tired problems and overrepresented philosophers.
What’s your favorite quote?
I’m an unapologetic Kantian, but I think Kant is rarely quotable. Fortunately, many of his acolytes are, and my favorite quote in all of philosophy is from Julia Markovits’ wonderful book, Moral Reason: “We are ourselves the ends we were looking for — the things that have that special kind of value that is not conditional on being valued.” I think that’s both lovely writing and a beautiful expression of an ethical idea.
What do you consider your greatest accomplishment?
Teaching, publishing, and conferencing during chemotherapy. I was diagnosed with cancer in Autumn 2016 and was nearing the end of chemotherapy in January 2017, when I returned to teaching. Chemotherapy tends to run on three-week cycles: infusions the first week, extreme fatigue the second week, and rapid recovery the third week. I wrote tirelessly during infusion weeks, completing two book chapters and starting a philosophy of religion volume. When it came to teaching, it felt impossible during the ‘fatigue’ weeks. I remember running to class one week and collapsing because my body just couldn’t do it. But the other weeks weren’t so bad. While I rarely feel proud of myself, I felt proud then, as a teacher and a researcher. I knew my ability to work during that time was mostly luck, but I also know it was some amount of willpower — a kind of love incarnate of doing and teaching philosophy. I couldn’t let it go.
This section of the APA Blog is designed to get to know our fellow philosophers a little better. We’re including profiles of APA members that spotlight what captures their interest not only inside the office, but also outside of it. We’d love for you to be a part of it, so please contact us via the interview nomination form here to nominate yourself or a friend.
Dr. Sabrina D. MisirHiralall is an editor at the Blog of the APA who currently teaches philosophy, religion, and education courses solely online for Montclair State University, Three Rivers Community College, and St. John’s University.
