Know Techn Pol (2010) 23:163175

DOI 10.1007/s12130-010-9104-x
SPECIAL ISSUE

A Critique of Information Ethics

Tony Doyle

Received: 26 April 2010 / Accepted: 20 May 2010 / Published online: 13 August 2010
# Springer Science+Business Media B.V. 2010

Abstract Luciano Floridi presents Information Ethics (IE) as an alternative to

traditional moral theories. IE consists of two tenets. First, reality can be interpreted at
numerous, mutually consistent levels of abstraction, the highest of which is
information. This level, unlike the others, applies to all of reality. Second,
everything, insofar as it is an information object, has some degree of intrinsic value
and hence moral dignity. I criticize IE, arguing that Floridi fails to show that the
moral community should be expanded beyond beings capable of suffering or having
preferences. Next, I look at Floridis extended case against consequentialism
generally and utilitarianism in particular. I try to show that his criticisms are flawed.
Third, I argue that, for the most part, it is not clear what IEs practical implications
are. I conclude with a critical discussion of the one area of information ethics,
traditionally conceived, that Floridi has written about at length, privacy.
Keywords Consquentialism . Floridi . Information ethics . Inherent value .
Intrinsic value . Inherent value . Intrinsic worth . Privacy . Utilitarianism

1 Introduction
In a series of articles written since 1999, Luciano Floridi proposes radically
rethinking the nature of ethics. He calls his new conception Information Ethics (IE),
a general ethical theory offered as an alternative to consequentialism, deontology,
and contract theory. IE consists of the following two tenets. First, reality can be
interpreted at numerous, mutually consistent levels of abstraction, each with its own
ontology (Brey 2008). The highest is information. This level of abstraction, unlike
T. Doyle
John Jay College of Criminal Justice, 899 Tenth Avenue, New York, NY 10019, USA
T. Doyle (*)
Hunter College, 695 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10065, USA
e-mail: tdoyle@hunter.cuny.edu

164

T. Doyle

the others, applies to all of reality. Second, Floridi wants to claim that everything,
insofar as it is an information object, has intrinsic value, and thus deserves at least
some moral respect. Thus, the moral circle should be all-inclusive: all of being, the
entire infosphere, to use Floridis term, is a moral patient. I discuss these claims
below in greater detail and argue that Floridi fails to show that the moral circle
should be expanded beyond beings capable of suffering or having preferences. Next,
I look at Floridis extended case against consequentialism generally and utilitarianism in particular. I try to show that his criticisms are flawed. Third, I argue that it is
not clear what IE implies regarding applied ethical topics like medical ethics or the
ethics of punishment. I conclude with a critical look at Floridis position on privacy,
a mainstay of conventional information ethics.

2 The Basis of IE
As pointed out in the previous paragraph, Floridi claims that all objects can be
viewed at different levels of abstraction. For instance, at one level of abstraction I
can be conceived of as a human being, at increasingly higher levels as a primate, a
mammal, a vertebrate, a colony of eukaryotic cells, and a congeries of subatomic
particles. The higher the level of abstraction, the more inclusive it is. The highest
level is informational. Everything that is can be thought of in terms of the
information that it embodies. Everything at this highest level of abstraction can be
conceived of as an information object. Information is the one common denominator
of all objects, both physical and abstract (Floridi 2008). This is the realm of IE, the
infosphere. As Floridi puts it, IE is committed to a LoA [level of abstraction] that
interprets realityinformationally (Floridi 2005a, p. 51). Why? Floridi believes
that information is intrinsically valuable. Since every object can be thought of as an
information object, everything in the universe has intrinsic worth. To the extent that
it does, it deserves at least minimum, although overridable, moral respect.1
IE is proposed as a general, field-independent ethical theory, a macroethics, to use
Floridis term. As Floridi sees it, a satisfactory macroethics should embrace
everything with intrinsic value. Since only IE does this, Floridi implies that it is
the only acceptable macroethics. From this theory of value he derives a conception
of right and wrong: Right and wrongessentially refer to what is better or worse
for the infosphere (Floridi 1999, p. 42). Information is the primary object of any
morally responsible action (Floridi 1999, p. 43). Compare classical utilitarianism,
where promoting pleasure and preventing pain are the keys to evaluating all actions
in the hedonosphere.
Floridis case for his theory of value appeals to the so called expanding moral circle.
Time was when the moral community was thought to extend only to ones tribe or ethnic
group. Since the Enlightenment, moral philosophers have sought to extend its
boundaries. For instance, Kant insisted that the realm of moral concern encompass all
However, this does not mean that everything is of equal worth. Responsible agents, that is, agents
capable of evaluating their actions in the light of moral principles, deserve the highest degree of respect
because they are the only ones capable both of knowing the infosphere and improving it according to their
self-determined projects (Floridi 1999, p. 50).

A Critique of Information Ethics

165

rational beings, Bentham and Mill all of sentient creation. Floridi thinks that the next
important step was taken last century by biocentric ethicists, who maintain that all life is
intrinsically valuable. The whole biosphere has fundamental worth, not just its islands
of sentience (Floridi 2008). Floridi is even more enthusiastic about land ethics, which
attacks biocentric theories for their bias against inanimate things (Floridi 2005a).
This approach demands that the state of inanimate objects [be] taken into account
when considering an action (e.g., how is building a certain freeway going to impinge
on the rock face in its path) (Floridi and Sanders 2001, p. 62). Land ethics then
encompasses the entire natural world, dirt and all, within the moral community. Yet,
not even land ethics is radical enough, since it retains a bias against technology and
artifacts (Floridi 2008). Floridi sees no good reason for not expanding the moral
community to include all of being conceived at its highest level of abstraction,
informationally (Floridi 2008, p. 13). If we can consider life worth preserving
independently of human interests, why not all of existence? (Floridi 2002). It is
invidious to exclude the entities corresponding to any level of abstraction, including
the most general, the informational (Floridi 2002, p. 291). IE is an ethics of
everything, an ontocentric, object-oriented theory, to use Floridis phrase (Floridi
1999, p 43; see also Floridi 2005a). Asserts Floridi, The time has come to translate
environmental ethics into terms of the infosphere and information objects (Floridi
2002, p. 291). Information ethics embraces everything that can be in an information
state (Floridi 1999, p. 43), and this includes the inorganic world as well as all human
artifacts. Everything can be treated as an information process (Floridi 1999, p. 43).
Only IE achieves the impartiality and universality towards which moral philosophy
has been striving since the Enlightenment. IE is the first macroethics of everything
(Floridi 1999, 2005a). It brings to ultimate completion the process of enlargement of
the concept of what may count as a center of a (no matter how minimal) moral claim,
which now includes every instance of being understood informationally, no matter
whether physically implemented or not (Floridi 2007, p. 9).
As mentioned above, the entire infosphere has an intrinsic value or dignity and
hence deserves at least minimal respect (Floridi 1999, p. 44), although this respect
can be overridden (Floridi 2008, p. 13). Floridi calls this his ontological equality
principle (Floridi 1999 p. 44), and it is akin to the utilitarian principle that
everyones happiness (or interests or preferences) be weighed equally or to Rawlss
assumption that the veil of ignorance ensures equality for the contractors in the
original position. Floridis principle means that every information entitythat is,
everythinghas a presumptive and equal right to exist and to develop in a way that
is appropriate to its nature (Floridi 1999, p. 44; see also Floridi 2005a, b).
The mirror image of being, or information, is entropy. By entropy, Floridi has in
mind the term as it is used in information theory, not in thermodynamics. In this
sense, entropy is inversely related to the amount of information that a signal contains
(Dretske 1983). Entropy is the destruction, corruption, pollution, and depletion of
information objects (Floridi 2005a; see also Floridi 2008). An increase in entropy is
an instance in evil (Floridi 2008, p. 17). It is to IE what pain or unhappiness is to
classical utilitarianism. Yet, it is more fundamental than pain, since it can affect all of
reality, not just that tiny portion capable of suffering (Floridi 2005a, 2007, 2008).
Floridi makes a valuable point here about the expanding moral circle. He is right,
empirically, that humanity has come to see many earlier conceptions of the moral circle

166

T. Doyle

as too exclusive. Few would oppose the overall trend. He offers a stern warning against
the kind of hubris that has characterized a lot of moral thinking in the past: Perhaps, we
could be less pessimistic: human sensitivity has already improved quite radically in the
past, and may improve further. Perhaps, we should just be cautious: given how fallible
we are, it may be better to be too inclusive than discriminative (Floridi and Sanders
2001, p. 61). Earlier justifications of slavery, racism, and even speciesism can now be
seen as self-serving. And they should chasten those who would trace Benthams
insuperable line arbitrarily. The undeniable moral progress that humanity has made
over the last several centuries is part and parcel of the expanding moral circle. Floridis
point is that the only safe way to draw the line is simply not to draw it at all. The only
satisfactory conception of ethics is one that is all inclusive.
Is it? Should ethics ascribe intrinsic worth to everything from a fully functioning adult
human being to a vat of toxic waste (Brey 2008)? Floridi is surely right to claim that the
Kantian conception of the moral community, to say nothing of pre-Kantian ones,
excludes too much, since it leaves out beings incapable of acting with a good will,
those that cannot govern their behavior by the moral law. Kant notoriously infers from
this that we have no direct moral obligations towards non-human animals. But as
Bentham suggested, the capacity for suffering is relevant to morality in a way that the
capacity to act with a good will is not. But why go any further? The best Floridi can
do is cite an apparent trend in moral philosophy towards even greater inclusiveness.
Whatever the merits of this claim about the history of ethics since the mid-twentieth
century, it is not an argument for expanding the moral circle beyond Benthams
proposal or the contention among later utilitarians that what matters is whether a being
has preferences that can be satisfied. Like any other intellectual trend, this one is only
as good as the reasons supporting it. And, so far as I can tell, the only reason that
Floridi offers for IEs theory of value isthe alleged trend itself. I say alleged because
it is difficult to see this expansion of the moral circle as a real trend: most moral
philosophers today continue to resist biocentric and land ethics and have refused to go
further than including beings capable of having experiences or preferences.
If Floridi wants to make his case for treating all of reality, informationally conceived,
as intrinsically valuable, he will have to do better than point out that a handful of
philosophers on the margins have urged broadening the circle beyond what, say,
utilitarians would like. The reason for including all and only creatures with central
nervous systems in the moral sphere is that they seem to be the only beings that we know
about that have interests, interests tied closely to avoiding pain and seeking pleasure.
Surely, the fact that a being is subject to pleasure and pain at least makes it a strong
candidate for moral concern. Again, why go any further? How is being an information
object supposed to be any recommendation for moral concern? Why, as Floridi wants to
do, include amoeba and redwood trees? Mount Everest and the Grand Canyon? The
Pantheon and Van Goghs Starry Night? My laptop and Univac? Floridis argument
seems to be that, as information objects, they are intrinsically valuable and so deserve
respect and so, to the greatest extent possible, should be left alone to flourish
independently of human interests (Floridi 2002, p. 291; see also Floridi 2008).
This will not do. Take natural wonders first. What does it even mean for
something like Iguazu Falls to flourish? Presumably it means seeing that they are
in a state that enhances the infosphere. What state is this? The present state in which
their erosion continues unabated? Or partially dammed and thus more slowly

A Critique of Information Ethics

167

eroded? I confess that I do not see how IE will answer these questions. Surely, the
more reasonable account for why we should not trash these natural wonders is the
pleasure that people get and will presumably continue to get from visiting them in a
relatively unspoiled condition and not because they have some kind of right to
flourish. The same goes for protecting non-human animals: We should protect them
only insofar as we and future generations value the notion of their continued survival
and insofar as the goods gained and harms avoided by conservation do not outweigh
the goods lost and the harms incurred by not devoting these resources elsewhere.
Non-human animal life has no intrinsic worth. It is literally meaningless, since, as far
as we know, non-human animals are incapable of thinking of their own lives as
having meaning. In fact, with the exception of recently extinct higher hominids
like the Neanderthal, one could make a plausible case that the universe would have
been better off without such creatures than with them, given the colossal suffering
associated with their existence. I propose the same approach to artifacts. Take the
great Maya pyramids or the temples of Angkor Wat. Their creators are long dead,
and thus nothing that we do now or in the future can affect their interests. If we all
woke up tomorrow not caring about these antiquities, and if we could be sure that
future generations would not care either, there would be no moral reason not to plow
them under and convert their grounds into casino resorts and golf courses.

3 Floridis Moral Precepts

To guide action, Floridi proposes four rules. They are:
0.
1.
2.
3.

entropy ought not to be caused in the infosphere

entropy ought to be prevented in the infosphere
entropy ought to be removed from the infosphere
information welfare ought to be promoted by extending (information quantity),
improving (information quality) and enriching (information variety) the infosphere
(Floridi 2005a, b, pp. 5859; see also Floridi 2002).

In this section, I would like to focus on the first two rules in the context of
Floridis attempt to show IEs superiority as a macroethics.
In Principia Ethica, G. E. Moore offers a thought experiment designed specifically
to show that hedonistic versions of utilitarianism are unacceptable. Moore asks his
reader to consider two worlds. Of the first world, he bids, Imagine it as beautiful as
you can; put into it whatever on this earth you most admire (Moore 1966, p. 83).
The second, by contrast, is the ugliest world you can possibly conceive. Imagine it
simply one heap of filth, containing everything that is most disgusting to us
(Moore 1966, p. 83). The thought experiment has one further stipulation: The only
thing we are not entitled to imagine is that any human being ever has or ever, by any
possibility, can live in either, can ever see and enjoy the beauty of the one or the
foulness of the other (Moore 1966, p.84). Moore affirms that, despite the fact that no
human being, and by implication no rational being, will ever experience either, it
nevertheless would be better if the first world existed to the exclusion of the second.
Of the beautiful world he asks rhetorically, Would it not be well, in any case, to do
what we could to produce it rather than the other? (Moore 1966, p.84)

168

T. Doyle

To illustrate the idea of entropy and why having more of it is intrinsically bad
Floridi devises a similar example and urges a Moorean conclusion. Imagine a boy
playing in a landfill. The kid is doing nothing but smashing up or defacing what
remains intact there. Floridi suggests that it would be wrong for the boy to do this
even if we suppose that no one would be adversely affected by the his antics (Floridi
1999). What makes his behavior wrong is that it increases entropy in the infosphere
(see also Floridi 2002, p. 302).
Floridi explicitly uses this thought experiment to take a jab at rival theories. He claims
that other theories fail to explain why the kids behavior is wrong. I will restrict my
attention to why the thought experiment is supposed to show that utilitarianism is
unsatisfactory, since it seems to me that the utilitarian has a plausible rejoinder.
Utilitarianism counts actions as wrong only to the extent that they adversely affect the
interests of sentient beings. But none are adversely affected in Floridis thought
experiment. Since utilitarianism cannot distinguish morally between the world in which
the boy engages in vandalism and the closest world in which he does not, the theory is
seriously flawed. If anything, overall utility is greater in the one world, since the boy is
getting his kicks from shattering windshields and spray painting junked cars there. IE by
contrast can make the relevant distinction: We come then to IE, and we know
immediately why the boys behavior is a case of blameworthy vandalism: he is not
respecting objects for what they are, and his game is only increasing the level of entropy
in the dumping-ground, pointlessly. He ought to stop destroying bits of the infosphere
and show more respect for what is naturally different from himself and yet similar, as an
information entity, to himself (Floridi 1999, p. 54; see also Floridi 2002).
Is this a genuine explanation? How exactly is the boy contributing to an increase
in informational entropy? Does Floridi think that the dump contains less information
after the escapade than before? How? If the boy were burning books or erasing hard
drives, then Floridi might have a case. But he is doing no such thing. How is
throwing rocks through a few panes of glass supposed to increase informational
entropy? Do the objects possess more information intact than in shambles? And
granting that they do, just how is this supposed to be morally significant? Floridi
does not say. It seems that he can only have recourse to his undefended claim that all
information objects have an essential moral dignity.
Anyway Floridi begs the question against utilitarianism. Utilitarians would gladly
admit that there is nothing wrong with the boys escapade, other things being equal, since
he makes no sentient being worse off. What else could possibly make his behavior wrong?
As I have already pointed out, aside from the argument from the expanding circlewhich
failsFloridi never argues for the claim that the landfill, conceived as a collection of
information objects, has intrinsic worth at all, let alone why those objects should be worth
more intact than in pieces. What we need to be told, and what Floridi never explains, is
why an information object, as an information object, is intrinsically valuable.

4 IE, Consequentialism, and Supererogation

Critics have charged, with justice, that, according to maximizing versions of
consequentialism, it is almost always possible to do better than what one does at any
given time. This gives these theories the counter-intuitive implication that no acts are

A Critique of Information Ethics

169

above and beyond the call of duty and that even the most conscientious agents
seldom, if ever, act rightly. For many, this result amounts to a reductio ad absurdum
of consequentialism.
Floridi claims that a benefit of IE is that it avoids this problem: In IE, this does
not happen because the morality of a process is assessed on the basis of the state of
the infosphere only. So while Consequentialism is in principle satisfied only by the
best action, in principle IE prizes any single action, which improves the infosphere
according to the [four] laws specified above, as a morally commendable action,
independently of the alternatives (Floridi 1999, p. 51). And elsewhere: fighting
information entropy is the general moral law to be followed, not an impossible and
ridiculous struggle against thermodynamics (Floridi 2002, p. 300). But these are
merely assertions that IE avoids the problem; they are not evidence that it does. In
the light of the four moral rules presented above, it is hard to see why IE does not
confront the same problem facing consequentialism. Will it not almost always be
possible to do more for the infosphere than what one in fact does? And if Floridi
responds that agents have no obligation to see that their actions are always in
accordance with the four chief precepts of IE, the critic can ask him why not. Why is
there not a standing obligation to act in accordance with all of them? Specifically,
why do agents not have a constant duty to maximize information welfare? On the
other hand, if we assume for the sake of discussion that IE does not have a problem
with supererogation for the reasons that Floridi gives, then neither does
consequentialism. After all, the consequentialist can just as plausibly claim that
actions that are not the best can still be candidates for praise if they do considerable
good and are better than most of the other alternatives. So giving half of my after tax
income to charity might not be the best I can do, but it is still laudable. Praise would
have more utility here than criticism, since the latter might actually discourage
generosity in this context (Singer 1993). According to Floridi, there is always some
entropy in the infosphere, and any act that tends to remove it is laudable (1999). Of
course consequentialists can say exactly the same thing about suffering and acts that
reduce it, even if the agent might have done better. So Floridi is either attacking a
straw man or his criticism applies equally to IE. In one place, he seems prepared to
concede as much: the restraint of information entropy and the active protection and
enhancement of information values are conducive to maximal utility. We can even
rephrase the Utilitarian principle and say that: Actions are right in proportion that
[sic] they tend to increase information and decrease entropy (Floridi 1999, p. 51).
If this is right, then of course IE will inherit whatever difficulties utilitarianism and
other forms of consequentialism might have with supererogation.

5 IE and the Ethical Challenges of the Digital Revolution

No doubt every major technological change brings with it new ethical challenges. The
digital revolution is no exception. The question is whether traditional ethical theories can
rise to the occasion or whether we need a revolution in ethics to match the one in
technology. Flordi thinks the latter, and he thinks that only IE is up to the job. Other
macroethical theories, he claims, lack the necessary flexibility. They insist on treating
computer ethics as just another kind of carpentry ethics, a new branch of applied ethics

170

T. Doyle

raising no really new issues. In this section, I would like to look at several reasons why
Floridi thinks that the issues raised by digital technology are novel and can only be
treated fully by IE. I try to show in each case that consequentialism can measure up.
Floridi begins by claiming that, with regard to digital technology, the virtual nature
of the actions in question often makes it impossible for them to remain completely
undetected and to leave no really perceptible effects behind (1999, p. 40). It is true that
all digital actions deposit records and that these records can persist indefinitely.
However, these effects are either harmful or they are not. If they are, then they raise
potentially serious moral concern for any moral theory that considers the results of
actions relevant. If they are not, then they raise no moral issues.
Floridis next concern is that even when 1 [that is, the reason given just above] does
not apply, ICT [digital information and communication technology] distances the agent
from, and hence diminishes his sense of direct responsibility for his computer-mediated,
computer-controlled and computer-generated actions (1999, p. 40). At most, what this
shows is that digital ICT makes it somewhat more difficult to determine or ascribe
responsibility or that people feel less responsible for the harm that they might cause
when using computers than otherwise. Maybe, but this is nothing new. Meat eaters, for
instance, have long been insulated from the profound suffering that industrial meat
production causes to the animals involved. Being removed from the stockyards and
slaughterhouses might well diminish how responsible I feel when I slice into my steak,
but if there are good moral reasons against eating meat, it does not reduce how
responsible I actually am. Presumably, Harry Truman felt less responsible for his
decisions to drop the two atomic bombs than he would have had he stalked the streets
of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August 1945 to put a bullet in the head of everyone that
the bombs killed and into the legs of all who were maimed. Whether or not he was
less responsible is debatable.
Third, besides, the increasing separation of actions and their effects, both in
terms of the anonymity of the agent and in terms of conceptual distance, makes
moral sanctions (in Mills sense) ever less perceptible by the agent the more
indirect and obscure the consequences of his actions are (Floridi 1999, p. 40). True
enough, but the consequences are still there. Radiation is tougher to detect than a
punch in the face, but the formers effects exist just the same and obviously can be at
least as harmful as the latter. If we can ferret out the source of radiation and
determine that someone is wittingly leaking it, then we should hold the party
responsible just as we call sucker punchers to account for broken noses and missing
teeth. Likewise those who do serious harm with computers.
Fourth, the diffusion of responsibility [brought about by ICT] brings with it a
diminished ethical sense in the agent and a corresponding lack of perceived
accountability (Floridi 1999, p. 40). This is true but fixable. If the action in question
causes considerable but avoidable harm, we need to bulk up the sanctions for such
conduct. This will provide a motive for people to take better account of their
potentially harmful actions. Think about how the laws regarding drunk driving and
the corresponding behavior have changed in recent decades. Consider even the bans
on smoking in indoor public places. The sanctions are mainly social; yet, they work.
Finally, the increasing number and variety of computer crimes committed by
perfectly respectable and honest people shows the full limits of an action-oriented
approach to computer ethics: computer criminals often do not perceive, or perceive

A Critique of Information Ethics

171

in a distorted way, the nature of their actions because they have been educated to
conceive as potentially immoral only human interactions in real life.A cursory
analysis of the justifications that hackers usually offer for their actions, for example,
is sufficient to clarify immediately that they often do not understand the real
implications of their behavior, independently of their technical competence (Floridi
1999, p. 40). Maybe these folks are not as respectable as we think, or maybe they are
like some slave owners who might otherwise have been decent people and were
simply going along with the prevailing norms. Again, if the crimes in question are
seriously harmful, we need to crank up the penalties. If hackers often fail to
understand the implications of their behavior, most of them would take more time to
do so if we stiffened the sentences for their misdeeds (Bentham 1948). The same
might have been said about early polluters, who failed to appreciate the great harm
they were doing. A robust combination of education, new laws, and strict
enforcement has altered considerably the behavior of their successors.
So it looks like at least one of IEs rivals can take on the kinds of cases that
Floridi thinks only his theory can handle. In fact, when it comes to more general
applications, IE does not seem to do as well. I turn to this topic next.

6 Applications of IE
In this context, it will be useful again to compare IE specifically with utilitarianism.
Critics have charged that the principle of utility is too general or abstract to be of
much use. Or, to the extent that it seems to be applicable, it turns out to be all things
to all people, many accommodating the principle to their intuitions rather than letting
their intuitions yield to the principle. But the latter is not really a criticism of
utilitarianism. It just shows that some people sometimes misapply the theory (Mill
1967). As for the first criticism, it exaggerates the problem: utilitarians do broadly
agree about what their principle implies regarding secondary moral rules. All accept
for instance the general utility of promise keeping, truth telling, and institutionalized
punishment. Utilitarians will also widely agree about more controversial issues like
the legalization of marijuana, abortion, or the liberalization of the laws governing
euthanasia. Again, applying the principle of utility might be difficult in certain
circumstances, but in a broad range of cases its implications are generally clear.
By contrast, it is difficult to tell what IE will say about almost any textbook issue or
moral dilemma. How will IE weigh in on the controversies mentioned in the last
paragraph? What will its verdict be in the trolley cases and their variants? Will the theory
ever sanction the witting execution of an innocent person (McCloskey 1965)? Many
might not like the answers that utilitarianism gives in these cases, but at least, it is
reasonably clear what the theory will say. And IE? How would pushing one person
onto the tracks to save five affect the infosphere? Will it prevent more entropy than it
will create? I confess that I do not see how to answer these questions in the light of IE.
It is true that Floridi wants to say, with the rest of us, that torturing an innocent
child, for instance, is wrong. He also assures his readers that IE reckons killing,
stealing, betrayal, and so forth wrong (Floridi 1999). His reason is that these acts
impoverish the infosphere (Floridi 2005a, b, p. 59), that they generate a net
increase in the level of entropy in the infosphere (Floridi 1999, p. 48). How do they

172

T. Doyle

do this? Floridi does not say. How is greater entropy relevant to moral wrongness?
The only reason that I find in Floridis work is his assurance that entropy is evil.
The reader can be forgiven if she suspects Floridi of first deciding what types or act
are right or wrong and then couching the justification in the language of IE.
Consider one more example, this one explicitly intended to show the superiority of IE
over all forms of consequentialism: maintaining ones dignity in a Nazi prison-camp
is simply no better or no worse than giving a lift to an unknown person on a rainy day,
not just because the two experiences are worlds apart, but because both agents have done
their best to improve the infosphere, and this is all that matters in order to consider their
actions morally commendable. If comparable at all, they are so only in the vague and
non-gradable sense in which a good knife is comparable to the goodness of a good
pencil. Consequentialism is not equally flexible (Floridi 1999, p. 52). Sure it is. It
would only insist on asking the pertinent questions. Who is the stranger? How far
would he have to walk if I do not give him a ride? Would it be dangerous for him to
walk? And so on. As for the moral value of the prisoner maintaining her dignity in the
prison camp, the consequentialist might ask some of the following questions. How
does maintaining her dignity benefit the victim herself? Does it make it easier for her
to stand up to the authorities? Does it make it more likely that she will survive? Does
her example increase the chances that her fellow inmates will survive? Once these and
like questions are answered, the consequentialist is able to hazard an informed guess
as to which world would be better: A, in which I give the stranger a ride but the
prisoner does not maintain her dignity or B, in which I do not give the stranger a ride
and the prisoner does maintain her dignity.
When it comes to information ethics, conventionally conceived, Floridi has more
to say. Although it is not clear what IE implies about intellectual freedom or the
extent to which intellectual property should be protected (Mathiesen 2004), Floridi
has written at some length on privacy (Floridi 1999, 2005b; Turilli and Floridi
2009). I conclude with a look at his position on this topic. I will focus on the two
earlier articles, since it is only there that IE, as Floridi conceives it, bulks large.
His 2005 essay is full of keen insights on how the digital revolution has affected
privacy. Floridi accepts James Moors contention that digital technology, although it
can enhance privacy in certain circumstances, raises potential threats that did not
exist in the pre-digital days. Moor points out that computers can store vast amounts
of information indefinitely and that they enable us to retrieve that information with
remarkably little effort. Moreover, once it is digitized information is greased, to
use Moors own metaphor: it can move quickly to various ports of call and is hard
to hold onto (Moor 1997, p. 27). So on the one hand, digital technology, by opening
new opportunities for surveillance and data mining for instance, poses an
unprecedented threat to privacy. It means that total strangers can have access to
our personal information in a way that was impossible before the digital revolution.
Furthermore, we might never discover this. On the other hand, digital technology
enables us to limit who has access to what information and hence can potentially
increase certain kinds of privacy. It enables us to do things at home, like shop, that in
the old days generally demanded public appearances.
Floridis essay is an attempt to find the right balance between information access and
privacy protection. Much of the discussion is couched in the language of IE. We are told
about the effects that privacy erosion or protection will have on the infosphere, and

A Critique of Information Ethics

173

Floridi introduces the notion of ontological friction to characterize the checks on the
flow of information that privacy protection implies. Such friction can be created by
anything from digital security systems to thicker walls in apartments. The lower the
friction, the more personal information that is available. In other words, informational
privacy is a function of the ontological friction in the infosphere (Floridi 2005b,
p. 187; italics in text). And digital ICT has unprecedented potential to lower the
friction in the infosphere and thus to erode privacy. But again, by controlling who has
access to what information, through encryption and passwords and so forth, digital
ICT can protect privacy in ways that would not have been possible in the analog age.
For instance, digitization of medical records enable us now, with far greater precision
than in the days of paper files, to determine who can have access to medical records
and when they can have such access (compare Culver et al. 1994). As Floridi puts it,
informational privacy infringements can more easily be identified and redressed
thanks to digital ICTs (Floridi 2005b, p. 190).
Floridi wants to reject a reductionist account of privacy, where privacy is just a
utility, that is, a mere instrumental good. Such an account ignores the informational
nature of human beings (Floridi 2005b, p. 194). What is novel in Floridis account of
privacy is his claim that unjustified invasions of it are tantamount to attacks on
personal identity. Personal identity is part and parcel of informational privacy (Floridi
2005b), and he characterizes invasions of privacy as digital kidnapping of personal
identity (Floridi 2005b, p. 195). This follows from his informational conception of
reality. As we have seen, at the highest level of abstraction all is information, including
persons. At this level persons can be conceived of as information packets, their
identity characterized by the information that they consist of over time (Floridi 1999).
A complete lack of privacy implies a lack of personal identity (Floridi 2005b; see also
1999). Floridi takes this to be an advantage of his ontological conception of privacy
over reductionist conceptions, where consequentialist concerns may override respect
for informational privacy (Floridi 2005b, p. 195).
As mentioned, the 2005 article contains many astute observations about the
importance of privacy and the implications, good and bad, that digital ICT has for it.
But Floridis case against reductionism is only as good as his claims (1) that personal
identity is constituted by ones information and (2) that unauthorized access to this
information erodes ones personal identity. The first claim is controversial. It is akin
to the memory theory of personal identity and inherits all the difficulties of that
position. For the time being, I will ignore those difficulties and assume that
something like the informational conception of personal identity is true. I will
instead focus on (2) above in the context of the following thought experiment.
Suppose that, 20 years ago, a team of scientists made a clone of me and that I never
discover this. Imagine that this clone has been flourishing ever since on twin earth.
According to IE, the clone is equivalent to its, and my, information. On Floridis
view, my identity has been kidnapped and no longer belongs to me: any
information about ourselves is an integral part of ourselves, and whoever has access
to it possesses a piece of ourselves, and thus undermines our uniqueness and our
autonomy from the world (1999, p. 52). But am I really any worse off? Can I not
continue to act with the same degree of autonomy as I did before? Will I not find my
life as fulfilling as previously? As for my uniqueness, it might be that the cloning put
an end to it, but again, how am I any the worse for it? The answers to these questions

174

T. Doyle

are far from obvious in the light of Floridis conception of privacy and his
informational account of personal identity. He wants to tell us that the cloning is an
act of aggression towards ones privacy and ultimately towards ones personal
identity (2005b), but without evidence of harm done Floridis position remains
undefended. Meanwhile it looks like the more plausible account is that privacy is
after all a utility. People have a strong interest in protecting it. However, if privacy
has only instrumental value, not all breaches of it are morally wrong. The cloning is
a case in point. I conclude that IEs account of privacy is off the mark.

7 Conclusion
I have offered numerous criticisms of IE. I have argued that Floridi fails to show that
all objects, conceived informationally, have intrinsic value. So far as I can tell, the
only case Floridi makes for his novel theory of value is the argument from the
expanding moral circle. I have offered two objections to this argument. First, Floridi
exaggerates the extent to which there is a trend in moral philosophy towards allinclusiveness: most moral philosophers today are not willing to go even as far as
biocentrism, let alone beyond. Second, and more importantly, even if there were
such a trend, Floridi would need a separate argument to show that the circle should
be expanded as he envisages.
I have also interpreted Floridis defense of IE as, in part, a sustained attack on
consequentialism in general and utilitarianism in particular. I have tried to show that
consequentialists can plausibly respond to his criticisms and that they can account
for the moral phenomena and challenges at least as effectively as IE. Finally, I have
discussed the practical implications of IE. I have argued that it is not clear what IE
will say about a broad range of moral issues and dilemmas, including many of those
in information ethics. Floridis discussion of privacy is an exception. However, if I
am right, his account of privacy is lacking.2

References
Bentham, J. (1948). The principles of morals and legislation. New York: Hafner.
Brey, P. (2008). Do we have moral duties towards information objects? Ethics and Information
Technology, 10(23), 109114.
Culver, J., Moor, J., Duerfeldt, W., Kapp, M., & Sullivan, M. (1994). Privacy. Professional Ethics, 3(3/4), 325.
Dretske, F. (1983). Knowledge and the flow of information. Cambridge: MIT.
Floridi, L. (1999). Information ethics: On the philosophical foundation of computer ethics. Ethics and
Information Technology, 1(1), 3756.
Floridi, L. (2002). On the intrinsic value of information objects and the infosphere. Ethics and Information
Technology, 4(4), 287304.
Floridi, L. (2005a). Information ethics, its nature and scope. ACM SIGCAS Computers and Society, 35(2), 3.
Floridi, L. (2005b). The ontological interpretation of informational privacy. Ethics and Information
Technology, 7(4), 185200.
Floridi, L. (2007). Understanding information ethics. American Philosophical Association Newsletters, 7
(1), 312.

I would like to thank Jane Carter for her comments.

A Critique of Information Ethics

175

Floridi, L. (2008). Foundations of information ethics. In K. Himma & H. Tavani (Eds.), The Handbook of
Information and Computer Ethics (pp. 324). Hoboken: Wiley.
Floridi, L., & Sanders, J. (2001). Artificial evil and the foundation of computer ethics. Ethics and
Information Technology, 3(1), 5566.
Mathiesen, K. (2004). What is information ethics? Computers and Society 32(8). http://portal.acm.org/
citation.cfm?id=1050305.1050312. Accessed 11 April 2010.
McCloskey, H. (1965). A non-utilitarian approach to punishment. Inquiry, 8(1), 249263.
Mill, J. (1967). Utilitarianism. Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill. edited by O. Piest.
Moor, J. (1997). Towards a theory of privacy in the information age. Computers and Society, 27(3), 2732.
Moore, G. (1966). Principia ethica. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Singer, P. (1993). Practical ethics (2nd ed.). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Turilli, M., & Floridi, L. (2009). The ethics of information transparency. Ethics and Information
Technology, 11(2), 105112.