Dissertation update: Suffering = Significantly Diminished Well-being
For this newsletter, I wanted to give a dissertation update. I have completed the first two chapters of my dissertation and have just submitted the second round of revisions to chapter three. The first chapter is an overview of eleven different philosophical theories of suffering in play today. The second chapter is a critical evaluation of most of the theories explained in chapter one (not all were necessary). In it, I demonstrated where the various theories succeeded and the ways in which they are lacking. The third chapter is a presentation and defense of my theory of suffering, which is: Suffering is significantly diminished well-being.
Of course, I had to discuss well-being as a concept and outline several different theories of well-being, which I did. The question you may be asking yourself is: why think that suffering is significantly diminished well-being? Before answering that, I will first answer why other promising accounts face difficulties mine avoids.
In an earlier newsletter I said that I was leaning toward a current theory of suffering which argues that suffering is the absence of species-specific flourishing. I was (and am) attracted to the concept of flourishing because for something to flourish implies a standard—a goal or end (telos) to which the member of that species is moving. However, a challenge with flourishing as a concept is determining when it begins. Flourishing is analyzed over a long period of time and isn’t something that starts and stops with the flip of a metaphorical switch[1]. Suffering, on the other hand, can—and does—start and sometimes stop with the flip of a switch and is usually noticed when it occurs.
One of the primary suffering theorists[2] who, like me, is an objectivist regarding suffering[3] and who argues that suffering is an absence of species-specific flourishing has, in a recent paper, stated a more concrete definition of suffering. His updated definition is that suffering is “the gap between how things are and how things ought to be.”[4] I find this definition appealing and look forward to his upcoming paper in which he fully fleshes it out.[5] I find it appealing because of its acknowledgment that there is a way things ought to be: that the world and our suffering isn’t random and, therefore, meaningless. This is another tacit appeal to teleology—that we are creatures that have an end (telos) or goal. After all, there is either a “way things ought to be” or there isn’t. If there isn’t, what does that imply? Due to space constraints, I’ll leave that for you to think about.
But if the definition of suffering is the gap between how things are and how they ought to be is, who determines the “ought”? Us? Each individual? Society? God? I know how I would answer that but, since he has yet to answer that question, it is difficult to properly analyze his account. So, while I appreciate his most recent definition as well as accounts that link suffering with a lack of flourishing, philosophically, they face challenges.
Suffering as significantly diminished well-being, on the other hand, does not face those challenges. Well-being, like flourishing and “oughts” also imply a teleology, since there can be no well-being without there being a definition of what well-being is and a standard by which to measure it. Here is not the place to lay out the various theories of well-being. I’ll simply state that the theory to which I ascribe[6] states that there are various intrinsic goods[7] that comprise well-being, such as friendship, health, knowledge, happiness, pleasure, virtue, joy, etc. My theory of suffering states that someone is suffering if their well-being is significantly diminished. Their well-being can be significantly diminished if even one of their intrinsic goods (e.g., health) is significantly diminished. We often, but not always,[8] know when our health or happiness or a friendship is significantly diminished, unlike with the concept of flourishing and knowing, moment to moment, when we are or not flourishing. This is why, philosophically, my theory can be better defended than one which claims that suffering is an absence of flourishing.
Of course, if you missed my earliest newsletters, you may be wondering why I haven’t said anything about theories of suffering having to do with the feelings, experiences, and mental states with which we generally associate suffering. This is because I argue that, while most suffering is experienced by the sufferer, not all is. Therefore, I argue that subjectivists[9] regarding suffering do not account for all instances of suffering. I thought this long before I developed my theory of suffering: i.e., not all instances of suffering are experienced,[10] so the cart is properly behind the horse.
At this point, while you may (or may not) find this discussion interesting, you may be wondering why I have spent so much time analyzing and critically evaluating theories of suffering and then coming up with my own when my project is on the value of suffering. While I could blame my advisor for that (he made me do it!), it was necessary. Since my dissertation will be arguing for, not only suffering’s value, but also its necessity for our flourishing, identifying what I mean by “suffering” when talking about it for an entire dissertation is imperative. Once my advisor gives me the green light on this chapter, I’ll be on to chapter four—the good stuff!
[1] Flourishing, it may be noted, might stop suddenly at the onset of suffering, but it does not start suddenly.
[2] https://med.stanford.edu/profiles/tyler-tate
[3] An objectivist is one who thinks that not all suffering is experienced because there are objective criteria for suffering that, when met, count as suffering whether it is experienced or not.
[4] Tate, Tyler. “Objective Suffering: What is it? What Could it be?” Cambridge Quarterly of Healthcare Ethics (2025), 1–9. doi:10.1017/S0963180125000040.
[5] It was stated in an endnote with no further explanation.
[6] That is, the objective list theory of well-being.
[7] Intrinsic good are good we want for their own sake—not because they produce some other good.
[8] For example, we may have an undiagnosed disease or, unbeknownst to us, our friends may not truly be our friends, etc.
[9] Subjectivists are also known as experientialists, because they argue that all suffering is experienced.
[10] For example, think of an addict who has yet to experience negative consequences or someone brainwashed into believing they are happy. There are no shortage of data which show that we can—and are—mistaken about our own happiness, well-being, and flourishing. (See, e.g., Daniel Haybron, The Pursuit of Unhappiness)