The Morality of Abortions Essay examples -- Abortion Moral Ethics Preg

The Morality of Abortions Abortion’s legalization through Supreme Court’s Roe v. Wade, has allowed for one in three pregnancies to end in abortion. This means that 1.5 million abortions are performed in the United States each year (Flanders 3). It ranks among the most complex and controversial issues, arousing heated legal, political, and ethical debates. The modern debate over abortion is a conflict of competing moral ideas and of fundamental human rights: to life, to privacy, to control over one's own body. Trying to come to a compromise has proven that it one cannot please all of the people on each side of the debate. Many people describe the abortion debate in America as bitter and uncompromising, usually represented on both sides by people with an intense devotion to their cause, and usually with irreconcilable positions. Many of those who are pro-choice insist that a woman's right to abortion should never be restricted, while those who are pro-life maintain that a fetus has a right to life that is violated at any stage of its development if abortion is performed. Discussions between both sides are usually very competitive, and sometimes violent, so any attempt at coming to a mutual agreement is drowned out. How can anyone hear if they refuse to acknowledge the other side, except to argue? Since the Roe v. Wade decision legalized abortion, compromises that limit or allow abortion have taken two forms: those based on the reasons for abortion, and those based on fetal development at different stages of pregnancy. The first compromise would allow abortion for extreme, or â€Å"hard† cases, w hich include rape, incest, or risk of the life or health of the pregnant woman, but not for the soft cases like financial hardship, inconvenience, possible birth defects, or failure of birth control. Compromises of the second type would allow abortions, but only until a given stage of pregnancy, which is usually much earlier than the medically accepted definition of viability- when the fetus can survive outside the womb (Flanders 8). Although compromises based on reasons for abortion have been incorporated in laws such as the Hyde Amendment, which restricts Medicaid funding for abortion to so-called â€Å"hard† cases, many people now focus on time-based restrictions. This idea is more realistic and practical than banning abortion all together since there would still ... ... who are not ready to take on the challenges and responsibilities of raising children. To have millions of poor, homeless and unhappy children in the world to cope with life’s injustices would be far more heartbreaking than extracting an embryo from a uterus. Abortion is a very complex issue that should remain a personal decision. The bottom line is that each woman should make her own decision based on her own morals and beliefs. Works Cited Alcorn, Randy. Prolife Answers to Prochoice Arguments. Portland, Oregon: Multnomah, 2001. Bender, David L. Abortion: Opposing Views. St. Paul, Minnesota: Greenhaven Press, 1997. Carlin, David R., Jr. â€Å"Going, Going, Gone.† Commonwealth 10 Sept. 1993: 6-7. Cunningham, Amy. â€Å"Who Are The Women Who Are Pro-Life?† Glamour Feb. 1994: 154-157. Driefus, Claudia., Seizing Our Bodies: The Politics of Women's Health. New York: Vintage Books, 1977. Flanders, Carl N., Abortion: Library In a Book, New York: Facts on Life, 1991. Points, Dana. â€Å"The Truth About The Abortion Pill.† Mademoiselle Oct. 1994: 106. Rubin, Rita and Headden, Susan. â€Å"Physicians Under Fire.† U.S. News & World Report 16 Jan. 1995: 52-53.

how not to spend you senior year :: essays research papers

She starts off talking about her life, starting from the third grade. She tells how when she was in third grade her mom was killed by a hit and run. Since then her and her dad have moved a lot. Thirteen elementary schools from third grade to sixth grade, five middle schools, 6 high schools but she stayed in one place for her senior year. She learned not to unpack when ever she goes to a new place. They have always moved into furnished apartments, and she now has learned that not all places come complete with a couch. She remembers every time she moved somewhere there would be the Phone Calls of Mysterious Origin which were phone calls in the middle of the night and her dad would answer them but he wasn’t on for a long time so it couldn’t be a girlfriend. And after the phone calls would stop, she would come home to her dad at the kitchen table with The Map. During her freshman, sophomore, and junior year they moved all over the eastside of Lake Washington. And at the beginning of my senior year we moved to Seattle, Washington. And I started school at Beacon High. And on that first day of school she falls head over heels in love. His name was Alex Crawford. The guy she saw across the classroom but knew that he would not remember her after that. She was standing in the parking lot looking up at this metal column standing straight up on the building and nothing on the end which seemed awkward. Alex came up behind her and said that a car use to be there but it was getting repaired. They began talking and walked towards the school. She was walking out of her first period class when Alex showed up out of the blue. He walked her to all her classes occasionally bringing his friend Elaine Golden. They all went to Drama class together and when they got there everyone was working on Shakespeare. Mr. Barnes made her join in with everyone else. Alex and Elaine did a scene from Romeo and Juliet. When it came time for the kiss Elaine pulled away as he was coming in for the kiss. The whole class was laughing. When the teacher asked some questions she accidentally said what she was thinking out loud.

The Host Chapter 32: Ambushed

The caves were quiet; the sun had not yet risen. In the big plaza, the mirrors were a pale gray with the coming dawn. My few clothes were still in Jamie and Jared's room. I snuck in, glad that I knew where Jared was. Jamie was sound asleep, curled into a tight ball in the top corner of the mattress. He didn't usually sleep so compactly, but he had good reason to at the moment. Ian was sprawled across the rest of the space, his feet and hands hanging off the edges, one appendage to each of the four sides. For some reason, this was hysterical to me. I had to put my fist in my mouth to choke back the laughter as I quickly snatched up my old dirt-dyed T-shirt and shorts. I hurried into the hall, still stifling the giggles. You're slaphappy, Melanie told me. You need some sleep. I'll sleep later. When†¦ I couldn't finish the thought. It sobered me instantaneously, and everything was quiet again. I was still rushing as I headed for the bathing room. I trusted Doc, but†¦ Maybe he would change his mind. Maybe Jared would argue against what I wanted. I couldn't be all day. I thought I heard something behind me when I reached the octopus-like juncture where all the sleeping halls met. I looked back, but I couldn't see anyone in the dim cave. People were beginning to stir. Soon it would be time for breakfast and another day of work. If they'd finished with the stalks, the ground in the east fields would need to be turned. Maybe I would have time to help†¦ later†¦ I followed the familiar path to the underground rivers, my mind in a million other places. I couldn't seem to concentrate on anything in particular. Every time I tried to focus on a subject-Walter, Jared, breakfast, chores, baths-some other thought would pull my head away in seconds. Melanie was right; I needed to sleep. She was just as muddled. Her thoughts all spun around Jared, but she could make nothing coherent of them, either. I'd gotten used to the bathing room. The utter blackness of it didn't bother me anymore. So many places were black here. Half my daylight hours were lived in darkness. And I'd been here too many times. There was never anything lurking under the water's surface, waiting to pull me under. I knew I didn't have time to soak, though. Others would be up soon, and some people liked to start their day clean. I got to work, washing myself first, then moving on to my clothes. I scrubbed at my shirt fiercely, wishing I could scrub out my memory of the past two nights. My hands were stinging when I was done, the dry cracks on my knuckles burning worst of all. I rinsed them in the water, but it made no noticeable difference. I sighed and climbed out to get dressed. I'd left my dry clothes on the loose rocks in the back corner. I kicked a stone by accident, hard enough to hurt my bare foot, and it clattered loudly across the room, bouncing off the wall and landing with a plunk and a gurgle in the pool. The sound made me jump, though it wasn't all that loud next to the roar of the hot river in the outer room. I was just shoving my feet into my scruffy tennis shoes when my turn was up. â€Å"Knock, knock,† a familiar voice called from the dark entry. â€Å"Good morning, Ian,† I said. â€Å"I'm just done. Did you sleep well?† â€Å"Ian's still sleeping,† Ian's voice answered. â€Å"I'm sure that won't last forever, though, so we'd best get on with this.† Splinters of ice pinned my joints in place. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I'd noticed it before, and then forgotten it in the long weeks of Kyle's absence: not only did Ian and his brother look very much alike, but-when Kyle spoke at a normal volume, which so rarely happened-they also had exactly the same voice. There was no air. I was trapped in this black hole with Kyle at the door. There was no way out. Keep quiet! Melanie shrieked in my head. I could do that. There was no air to scream with. Listen! I did as I was told, trying to focus in spite of the fear that stabbed through my head like a million slender spears of ice. I couldn't hear anything. Was Kyle waiting for a response? Was he sneaking around the room in silence? I listened harder, but the rush of the river covered any sounds. Quick, grab a rock! Melanie ordered. Why? I saw myself crashing a rough stone against Kyle's head. I can't do it! Then we're going to die! she screamed back at me. I can do it! Let me! There has to be another way, I moaned, but I forced my ice-locked knees to bend. My hands searched the darkness and came up with a large, jagged rock and a handful of pebbles. Fight or flight. In desperation, I tried to unlock Melanie, to let her out. I couldn't find the door-my hands were still my own, clutched uselessly around the objects I could never make into weapons. A noise. A tiny splash as something entered the stream that drained the pool into the latrine room. Only a few yards away. Give me my hands! I don't know how! Take them! I started to creep away, close to the wall, toward the exit. Melanie struggled to find her way out of my head, but she couldn't find the door from her side, either. Another sound. Not by the far stream. A breath, by the exit. I froze where I was. Where is he? I don't know! Again, I could hear nothing but the river. Was Kyle alone? Was someone waiting by the door to catch me when he herded me around the pool? How close was Kyle now? I felt the hairs on my arms and legs standing on end. There was some kind of pressure in the air, as though I could feel his silent movements. The door. I half turned, easing back in the direction I'd come, away from where I'd heard the breath. He couldn't wait forever. The little he'd said told me he was in a hurry. Someone could come at any time. Odds were on his side, though. There were fewer who would be inclined to stop him than there were who might think this was for the best. And of those inclined to stop him, even fewer who'd have much of a chance of doing that. Only Jeb and his gun would make a difference. Jared was at least as strong as Kyle, but Kyle was more motivated. Jared would probably not fight him now. Another noise. Was that a footstep by the door? Or just my imagination? How long had this silent standoff lasted? I couldn't guess how many seconds or minutes had passed. Get ready. Melanie knew that the stalling would soon be at an end. She wanted me to clench the rock tighter. But I would give flight a chance first. I would not be an effective fighter, even if I could bring myself to try. Kyle was probably twice my weight, and he had a much longer reach. I raised the hand with the pebbles and aimed them toward the back passage to the latrine. Maybe I could make him think that I was going to hide and hope for rescue. I threw the handful of small stones and shied away from the noise when they clattered against the rock wall. The breath at the door again, the sound of a light footfall headed toward my decoy. I edged as quietly along the wall as I could. What if there are two? I don't know. I was almost to the exit. If I could just make the tunnel, I thought I could outrun him. I was lighter and fast†¦ I heard a footstep, very clearly this time, disrupting the stream in the back of the room. I crept faster. A gigantic splash shattered the tense standoff. Water pelted my skin, making me gasp. It spattered against the wall in a wave of wet sound. He's coming through the pool! Run! I hesitated just a second too long. Big fingers clutched at my calf, my ankle. I yanked against the pull, lurching forward. I stumbled, and the momentum that threw me down to the floor made his fingers slip. He caught my sneaker. I kicked it off, leaving it in his hand. I was down, but he was down, too. It gave me enough time to scramble forward, ripping my knees against the rough stone. Kyle grunted, and his hand clutched at my naked heel. There was nothing to catch hold of; I slid free again. I wrenched myself forward, pulling to my feet with my head still down, every second in danger of falling again because my body was moving almost parallel to the floor. I kept my balance through sheer force of will. There was no one else. No one to catch me at the exit to the outer room. I sprinted forward, hope and adrenaline surging in my veins. I burst into the river room at full speed, my only thought to reach the tunnel. I could hear Kyle's heavy breath close behind but not close enough. With each step, I pushed harder against the ground, throwing myself ahead of him. Pain lanced through my leg, crumpling it. Over the babble of the river, I heard two heavy stones hit the ground and roll-the one I'd been clutching and the one he'd thrown to cripple me. My leg twisted under me, spinning me backward to the ground, and in the same second he was on top of me. His weight knocked my head against the rock in a ringing blow and pinned me flat against the floor. No leverage. Scream! The air blew out of me in a siren of sound that surprised us all. My wordless shriek was more than I'd hoped for-surely someone would hear it. Please let that someone be Jeb. Please let him have the gun. â€Å"Uhng!† Kyle protested. His hand was big enough to cover most of my face. His palm mashed against my mouth, cutting off my scream. He rolled then, and the motion so took me by surprise that I had no time to try to find an advantage in it. He pulled me swiftly over and under and over his body. I was dizzy and confused, my head still spinning, but I understood as soon as my face hit the water. His hand locked on the back of my neck, forcing my face into the shallow stream of cooler water that wound its way into the bathing pool. It was too late to hold my breath. I'd already inhaled a mouthful of water. My body panicked when the water hit my lungs. Its flailing was stronger than he'd expected. My limbs all jerked and thrashed in different directions, and his grip on my neck slipped. He tried to get a better hold, and some instinct made me pull myself into him rather than away, as he was expecting. I only pulled half a foot closer to him, but that got my chin out of the stream, and enough of my mouth to choke some of the water back out and drag in a breath. He fought to push me back into the stream, but I wriggled and wedged myself under him so that his own weight was working against his goal. I was still reacting to the water in my lungs, coughing and spasming out of control. â€Å"Enough!† Kyle growled. He pulled himself off me, and I tried to drag myself away. â€Å"Oh, no, you don't!† he spit through his teeth. It was over, and I knew it. There was something wrong with my injured leg. It felt numb, and I couldn't make it do what I wanted. I could only push myself along the floor with my arms and my good leg. I was coughing too hard to do even that well. Too hard to scream again. Kyle grabbed my wrist and yanked me up from the floor. The weight of my body made my leg buckle, and I slumped into him. He got both my wrists in one hand and wrapped the other arm around my waist. He pulled me off the floor and into his side, like an awkward bag of flour. I twisted, and my good leg kicked against the empty air. â€Å"Let's get this over with.† He jumped over the smaller stream with a bound and carried me toward the closest sinkhole. The steam from the hot spring washed my face. He was going to throw me into the dark, hot hole and let the boiling water pull me into the ground as it burned me. â€Å"No, no!† I shouted, my voice too hoarse and low to carry. I writhed frantically. My knee knocked against one of the ropy rock columns, and I hooked my foot around it, trying to yank myself out of his grip. He jerked me free with an impatient grunt. At least that loosened his hold enough that I could make one more move. It had worked before, so I tried it again. Instead of trying to free myself, I twisted in and wrapped my legs around his waist, locking the good ankle around the bad, trying to ignore the pain so that I could get a good hold there. â€Å"Get off me, you -† He fought to knock me loose, and I jerked one of my wrists free. I wrapped that arm around his neck and grabbed his thick hair. If I was going into the black river, so was he. Kyle hissed and stopped prying at my leg long enough to punch my side. I gasped in pain but got my other hand into his hair. He wrapped both arms around me, as if we were embracing rather than locked in a killing struggle. Then he grabbed my waist from both sides and heaved with all his strength against my hold. His hair started to come out in my hands, but he just grunted and pulled harder. I could hear the steaming water rushing close by, right below me, it seemed. The steam billowed up in a thick cloud, and for a minute I couldn't see anything but Kyle's face, twisted with rage into something beastlike and merciless. I felt my bad leg giving. I tried to pull myself closer to him, but his brute strength was winning against my desperation. He would have me free in a moment, and I would fall into the hissing steam and disappear. Jared! Jamie! The thought, the agony, belonged to both Melanie and me. They would never know what had happened to me. Ian. Jeb. Doc. Walter. No goodbyes. Kyle abruptly jumped into the air and came down with a thud. The jarring impact had the effect he wanted: my legs came loose. But before he could take advantage, there was another result. The cracking sound was deafening. I thought the whole cave was coming down. The floor shuddered beneath us. Kyle gasped and jumped back, taking me-hands still locked in his hair-with him. The rock under his feet, with more cracking and groaning, began to crumble away. Our combined weight had broken the brittle lip of the hole. As Kyle stumbled away, the crumbling followed his heavy steps. It was faster than he was. A piece of the floor disappeared from under his heel, and he went down with a thud. My weight pushed him back hard, and his head smacked sharply against a stone pillar. His arms fell away from me, limp. The cracking of the floor settled into a sustained groan. I could feel it shiver beneath Kyle's body. I was on his chest. Our legs dangled above empty space, the steam condensing into a million drops on our skin. â€Å"Kyle?† There was no answer. I was afraid to move. You've got to get off him. You're too heavy together. Carefully-use the pillar. Pull away from the hole. Whimpering in fear, too terrified to think for myself, I did as Melanie ordered. I freed my fingers from Kyle's hair and climbed gingerly over his unconscious form, using the pillar as an anchor to pull myself forward. It felt steady enough, but the floor still moaned under us. I pulled myself past the pillar and onto the ground beyond it. This ground stayed firm under my hands and knees, but I scrambled farther away, toward the safety of the exit tunnel. There was another crack, and I glanced back. One of Kyle's legs drooped farther down as a rock fell from beneath it. I heard the splash this time as the chunk of stone met the river below. The ground shuddered under his weight. He's going to fall, I realized. Good, Melanie snarled. But†¦! If he falls, he can't kill us, Wanda. If he doesn't fall, he will. I can't just†¦ Yes, you can. Walk away. Don't you want to live? I did. I wanted to live. Kyle could disappear. And if he did, there was a chance that no one would ever hurt me again. At least not among the people here. There was still the Seeker to consider, but maybe she would give up someday, and then I could stay here indefinitely with the humans I loved†¦ My leg throbbed, pain replacing some of the numbness. Warm fluid trickled down my lips. I tasted the moisture without thinking and realized it was my blood. Walk away, Wanderer. I want to live. I want a choice, too. I could feel the tremors from where I stood. Another piece of floor splashed into the river. Kyle's weight shifted, and he slid an inch toward the hole. Let him go. Melanie knew better than I what she was talking about. This was her world. Her rules. I stared at the face of the man who was about to die-the man who wanted me dead. With him unconscious, Kyle's face was no longer that of an angry animal. It was relaxed, almost peaceful. The resemblance to his brother was very apparent. No! Melanie protested. I crawled back to him on my hands and knees-slowly, feeling the ground with care before each inch I moved. I was too afraid to go beyond the pillar, so I hooked my good leg around it, an anchor again, and leaned around to wedge my hands under Kyle's arms and over his chest. I heaved so hard I nearly pulled my arms from their sockets, but he didn't move. I heard a sound like the trickle of sand through an hourglass as the floor continued to dissolve into tiny pieces. I yanked again, but the only result was that the trickle sped up. Shifting his weight was breaking the floor faster. Just as I thought that, a large chunk of rock plummeted into the river, and Kyle's precarious balance was overthrown. He began to fall. â€Å"No!† I screamed, the siren bursting from my throat again. I flattened myself against the column and managed to pin him to the other side, locking my hands around his wide chest. My arms ached. â€Å"Help me!† I shrieked. â€Å"Somebody! Help!†

Outline the argument supermarket power is a zero -sum game

Outline the argument supermarket power is a zero -sum game BY bluebell Outline the argument that supermarket power Is a â€Å"zero-sum†game Before we discuss the argument let us understand first what the terms â€Å"power† and â€Å"zero-sum† mean. Power is a complex term used denote influence, control and domination, (Taylor, et al. 2009,p. 59). The power used by supermarkets includes buying and market power. The big four supermarkets in the U. K. Account for approximately 75% of the food and groceries market therefore giving them significant market power.Their buying power Is the ability they have to negotiate prices with suppliers and the rage chains thus being able to demand discounts when buying In such large quantities. This gives them the ability to influence things such as pricing, for example offering goods at below cost prices. The term zero-sum game is used when one party's gain will be another's loss therefore equaling a zero sum. A good example of th is is slicing a pie, if one person takes a large slice there is less for everyone else.The pro supermarket campaigners argue that the supermarkets use their power for good and all parties Involved benefit to some extent creating a positive sum gain but he the following argues to the contrary__ As shoppers they offer us a wide variety of products at affordable prices, in accessible locations. Additionally they offer employment, boosting local skills and helping to draw in other businesses such as restaurants and retailers to sometimes failing local economies but at what cost to others?Do the low prices mean that somewhere down the supply chain someone else's profits are being squeezed? Has the out of town retail park been a catalyst In the decline of Britain's high streets? In 2006 retail commentator Judi Bean reported hat the big four operated around 3900 stores with Tests alone taking one pound at the tills for every three we spend. Since then they have continued to grow branching out into the corner shop concept and opening an additional 1500 stores in a bid to capture even more trade.In years gone by our towns would have a variety of independent shops made up of butchers, bakers and fishmongers, but these are in decline and we are now dominated by by big chain stores offering us practically Identical goods at very similar prices. If this Is the case are they really offering us any hospice at all? Across the country they monopolies towns and areas where small local businesses are unable to compete on pricing being forced to shut down.Food writer Joann Blackman, (2005) uses Dundee as an example and recalls that in the sass the town had ten bakers; now there are two left, five fishmongers with one remaining and eight or nine butchers only one of which has survived and six grocers where again only one has survived.. In their place are four Testes, two Sad, a Morrison and a Kingsbury. In her pollen there Is a distinct correlation between the arrival of the gig c hains and the demise of the small independents, thus implying a zero-sum game.The supermarkets have an immense buying power and their supply chain stretches across the globe. When dealing with the large conglomerates like Proctor and Gamble, Milliner and Nestle the balance of power is pretty much even, as their global muscle puts them in a strong position to negotiate. However the farmers, such a fortunate position. Small suppliers claim that the supermarkets are continually putting pressure on them, coercing them into prices cuts that push them to the point that there economic livelihood is in doubt.This relationship between the suppliers and supermarkets can be depicted as a David and Goliath affair, with the small independents up against the big multiples Just as the small independent stores on the high street are up against the big chain stores as previously mentioned. With this pressure being applied to suppliers to keep costs down they in turn pass this on to their employees. Here in the I-J we have low paid often migrant workers cutting, sorting and packing vegetables and salads for the big stores.Felicity Lawrence has written about the exploitation of these workers in her book Not on the Label (2004) and in newspaper investigations. She highlights how agency workers, often from eastern European countries such as Romania, Poland and Bulgaria, are employed by â€Å"gang masters† to work on farms and in processing and packing plants and are frequently paid hourly rates below the minimum wage, are subjected to illegal deductions and are bussed from Job to Job at their employers will.These people are not directly employed by the supermarkets but, she claims, that they are aware of the practices and turn a blind eye to it so they can continue to benefit from he situation. Additionally she points out that you will not see any such evidence of this on labels of the packets of salad or bags of chicken pieces which line their shelves. Lawrence implies tha t we as consumers can indulge in cheap products at the expense of those exploited and often vulnerable workers.You could therefore infer that the supermarkets are using their power or dominance to control the labor market. For us to gain from the low prices at the checkout someone else must lose out in the case it is the suppliers and their workforce. With this in mind let us look rather field at the workers in such places as Bangladesh. In 2006 and 2007 The War on Want, a U. K. Based non-governmental organization, made accusations against Sad and Tests that they were boosting profits and the expense of the workers in the sweatshops of Bangladesh.They carried out a survey in six large facilities in Dacha, each employing between 500-1200 workers. The results of the survey showed that the worker, of which the majority are female, had been subjected to overcrowding and unhygienic work conditions along with forced overtime and verbal intimidation, tit access to trade unions being refuse d. All the factories surveyed were known to be supplying cheap clothing to the I-J market, specifically Tests and Sad and all were paying wages below that needed to provide for themselves and their family.The pressure applied by the stores on the factory owners to keep costs down means that they have no room to maneuver. The war on want claim that it the absence of a living wage in such places that keep our Jeans, shoes and other clothing at such low prices. Taking all of the above into account we can conclude that although we as nonusers benefit from low pricing and abundance of choice and the supermarkets continue to increase their profits, there are many within the chain that don't benefit so greatly.We can therefore say that supermarket power is definitely a zero sum game. Word count – 1134 Bean, J. (2006) Trolley Wars: The Battle of the Supermarkets, London, Profile Books Blackman, J (2005): Shopped: The shocking Power of British Supermarkets, London, Profile Books Lawre nce, F (2004) Not on the Label, London, Penguin War on Want (2006), fashion Victims: The true cost of cheap clothes at Primary. Sad and Tests, London,

Critical Analysis of Peter Singer’s Famine Affluence and Morality Essay

In his article â€Å"Famine, Affluence and Morality† Peter Singer gives a seemingly devastating critique of our ordinary ways of thinking about famine relief, charity, and morality in general. In spite of that very few people have accepted, or at any rate acted on, the conclusions he reaches. In light of these facts one might say of Singer’s arguments, as Hume said of Berkeley’s arguments for immaterialism, that â€Å"†¦ they admit of no answer and produce no conviction.†[1] While I do think that Singer’s considerations show that people should do considerably more than most people actually do, they do not establish his conclusions in their full strength or generality. So his arguments admit of a partial answer, and once properly qualified may produce some conviction. In â€Å"Famine. Affluence, and Morality,† Peter Singer stresses the possible revisionary implications of accepting utilitarianism as a guide to conduct. He does not actuall y espouse utilitarianism in this essay, rather a cousin of utilitarianism. He observes, in the world today, there are many people suffering a lot, leading miserable lives, on the margin, prone to calamity whenever natural disasters or wars or other cataclysmic events strike. Many millions of people live on an income equivalent to one dollar a day or less. What, if anything, does morality say one should do about this? Singer proposes two principles—a stronger one he favors, a weaker one he offers as a fallback. The Strong Singer Principle: â€Å"If it is in our power to prevent something bad from happening, without thereby sacrificing anything of comparable moral importance, we ought, morally, to do it.† The Weak Singer Principle: â€Å"If it is in our power to prevent something very bad from happening, without sacrificing anything morally significant, we ought, morally, to do it.† Consider the Strong Singer Principle. He explains that â€Å"by without sacrificing anything of comparable moral importance† I mean without causing anything else comparably bad to happen, or doing something that is wrong in itself, or failing to promote some moral good, comparable in significance to the bad thing that we can prevent.† From the first principle it follows that whether one should help those who are suffering or dying doesn’t depend on how close one is to them, unles s that makes helping them more difficult, because their distance from one does nothing to lessen their suffering. From both principles together, it follows that one’s obligation to help those who are suffering or dying doesn’t go away if other people who are also in a position to help them aren’t doing anything, because the presence of other people who do nothing is, in moral terms, no different from the absence of people who do something. Singer comments on this argument by adding that he could get by with a weaker version of the second principle, which would have â€Å"something of moral significance† in place of â€Å"something of roughly equal moral importance† (506). He also gives a hypothetical example of the second principle in action: If one is in a position to save a child drowning in a pond, one should rescue the child even though that means dirtying one’s clothes, because that is not a morally significant cost and the child’s death would be an extremely morally bad state of affairs (506).

Managing Talents Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 2500 words

Managing Talents - Essay Example the company started its business with just 2  aircrafts offering services to its clients between Brisbane and Sydney. However, now the company is the second largest airlines in Australia is a well known name for efficient and cheap  flyer  across the country.  Ã‚  Recently, the company management has made a deal to work together with the Regional Express (Rex) to cater a larger section of clients. Other business partners of Virgin Blue are Virgin Atlantic, United Airlines, Malaysian Airlines and Hawaiian Airlines.  The airline company provides air flight services in 28 cities in Australia, with Brisbane Airport as its hub, with the help of a fleet of 75 narrow-body  Boeings  and  Embraers.  Ã‚  Originally contributing seven return flights every 24 hrs, between  Brisbane  and  Sydney, the company now covers almost every major city and holiday destinations in Australia. Virgin Blue Airlines has attracted a huge pool of talent to its organization and the management is consistent in its efforts to introduce trademark management style, skills and experience in its employees. The Virgin Blue Airlines management has been enough skillful in retaining large pool of talent in its organization by productively shaping out large partnerships with people to coalesce the knowledge, skill and tap the market presence globally. The objective of the essay is to offer attentiveness on a variety of issues that can be faced by the Virgin Blue Airlines HR team while going for a global recruiting plan. Talent management is one of the main drives of effective and strategic  HRM  development in a company. Talent management related to the process of  developing and incorporating new employees, preserving the existing work force, and attracting expertise from the market towards the organization.  Talent management integrates the process of selecting, attracting, training and promoting bright employees to achieve higher performance for the

Families Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 250 words

Families - Essay Example Whereas fifty years ago divorce was rare, and homosexuality invisible, nowadays these features are common in society. If individuals want to create their own type of family according to their own values and ideals, then there is an opportunity to explore this in new ways. There is conflict between restrictive but stable traditional models, and freer but potentially less stable modern alternatives. Immigrant families have the benefit of at least two cultural heritages, and this enriches their life experience. It can also cause tensions when adapting to new contexts and sometimes clashes with expectations of the culture of origin. Often children feel caught between the old and the new, and it takes generations for families to be fully at ease in both cultures. Another advantage of immigrant families is that people often have the opportunity to speak more than one language. This has useful career implications but above all it enables people to see the world more openly and be accepting of differences without judging one or the other. White American families who only speak English are at a disadvantage because they are tempted to hold narrow views, and find it harder to think in concepts outside their own ethnic group norms. Latinos, African Americans, Asians and other minority groups in America can suffer prejudice and misunderstanding which adds stress to their lives. Families who find themselves victims of racism will stick together more closely, but there are disadvantages in accessing full citizenship benefits if resentment builds up inside the family and opportunities are blocked in society outside the family. This can be a vicious circle which is hard to break. Similar scenarios can develop within gay and lesbian families. Multi-generational families are the norm in some societies, notably African and Asian