On luck, morality and privilege

I’m no philosopher, no politician, no scholar, but I do have strong opinions,so here goes!

Disclaimer: I am ridiculously lucky. I know that. I used to feel mega-guilty about it, but ultimately, since I have zero intention of going full hermit and/or acetic I’m assuaging the qualms by trying to live decently with the good fortune that I don’t deserve.

Also: I’m no scholar. I’m not here to write learned dissertations. But I’m Gen X and I have read hundreds of books (classic, historical, crime, humour, chicklit, biographical, fantasy, novella, epic, translated, in French, religious, medical, feminist, for kids…) which have illuminated the world, warts and all.

My opinions (I have many) are based on what I observe as a human female, a midwife and a mother. I’m basically here to rant. It’s therapeutic. It’s cheaper than therapy.

This particular blog has been on the back-burner for a while, ever since I listened to an episode of The Moral Maze (BBCR4 19th November 2025) about luck. It really made me think. Actually, it made me shout at the radio. The premise was, basically, we understand that luck (or the lack of it) plays a recognised role in how some people might (mis)behave. We talk of mitigating circumstances. This implies that unlucky (by which I mean victims of real poverty, poor mental health, abuse, neglect) people have less agency and cannot help their actions. This in turn kinda implies they are less human, more animal.

Rude. 

Many would wholeheartedly refute this position and argue, that on the contrary, everyone has agency, everyone knows right from wrong, and therefore privilege (or lack thereof) has nothing to do with bad behaviour.

I’d say the truth lies somewhere in the middle. Humans are animals, that’s undeniable. But we have enhanced capacity to act with moral integrity. Mostly we do. And yet, there are disproportionately more people in prison with learning disabilities, very challenging upbringing, serious mental health issues and bog-standard poverty. Just less fortunate. These people may sometimes do bad things out of desperation. No-one denies that they should be punished humanely and rehabilitated with compassion. Most people would accept that mitigating factors were in play. Who among us wouldn’t at least consider stealing to provide for our kids. Or simply fail to pay the odd bill because the kids need new shoes. And  much as we wish it weren’t true, addictions (often coping mechanisms to counter trauma or underlying mental health difficulties) are hungry and expensive. These things affect impulse control, understandably. And impulsivity means you are more likely to get caught. But poor impulse control can affect anyone. I’d argue, however, that you are more likely to get away with poor impulse control if you are privileged. Because you can afford your expensive bad habits. And because privilege buys you good legal counsel and expensive rehab. It also buys you a top notch education which opens doors and lets you hobnob with your similarly lucky fellow alumni who can, if necessary, get you out of scrapes.

People mostly commit offences they think they can get away with. More privileged people do seem to be getting away with a great deal of shocking behaviour. History tells us it was always thus. But in recent times, efforts had been made to curb the most powerful people of their shocking impunity.  For a while, such behaviour became a bit less glaringly obvious, and if you were exposed, you could expect to face (a tiny bit of) justice. Nowadays, not so much. It really does seem that a top notch legal team (if you can afford it) will keep you consequence-free.

The bottom line is that, for less fortunate people, the simple act of ignoring a parking fine that they genuinely cannot afford, can end up with bailiffs and financial ruin. For a privileged person, that fine (if even paid, after all, an expensive education allows you to make a convincing appeal) is a minor inconvenience. Same offence. Very different outcomes. Mind-bogglingly unfair.

We talk about mitigating factors to encourage slightly more lenient sentencing on certain (less fortunate) offenders. I agree. Thing is, I’d take it a step further and call for anti-mitigation factors to increase sentencing for those who really ought to (and absolutely could afford to) have behaved better. After all, if you believe that a degree of clemency is owed to those who acted out of desperation because they had less agency, then perhaps one should expect higher standards from people who might be expected to have more agency.

I don’t know. That may well be too simplistic.

I’m a midwife at a South London hospital so I see plenty of deprivation.  I see first hand how inequality affects life chances. I see photos of the mouldy accommodation that some of my women live in, with no opportunity for redress from terrible landlords. I meet women who have been through the so-called care system, not terribly well equipped for impending motherhood. I see women who have crossed continents (legally) for the chance to build a better life for their kids, only to be treated like scum, even though they are doing the most demanding care work for our country. Women seeking asylum, trying against the odds to prove their status as refugees, subsisting on air and the goodwill of some amazing charities. Somehow we blame these women for having children; for having the audacity to believe they can do a better job of raising children than their mothers did, for daring to hope that it will be different for them. But I’m convinced that’s what everybody believes when they embark on parenthood. We all think we will have learned from our parents’ mistakes and absolutely won’t repeat them. We believe we’ll be heroes.  Firstborn Son has already informed me that he will be a much better parent than I have been when the time comes. I’m amused, of course, but I understand. It’s human nature.  No-one would have kids if they didn’t have that hopeful optimism. We can’t condemn the less fortunate for having the same hopeful instincts as Firstborn Son, who is indubitably lucky. But the fact remains that my grandchildren (if I’m lucky enough to have them) will be fortunate. Because luck (and bad luck) does seem to be heritable. That’s not fair.

The super wealthy are just as likely to commit opportunistic crimes like tax dodging, fraud, perjury, and a great deal of exploitation of less fortunate people, because they know they will get away with it. They operate on the fringes of the law, protected by loopholes that they created for themselves, cocooned by a legal system that gives them the benefit of the doubt which simply isn’t afforded to poorer people. [Please read “Eve was framed” by Helena Kennedy or watch both seasons of “Time” on BBC iPlayer]

I’m lucky, so if I did somehow fall foul of the law, I’d be able to afford excellent legal counsel. It’s not fair, but it would help a lot. Listening to The Moral Maze, all the contributers were lucky. And the consensus was that humans inherently have agency and if they choose to do immoral things, that’s on them. Lucky people need to believe that. Because if that isn’t true, anarchy will follow. If we are all out for ourselves no-one’s life or property is safe, and lucky people have more to lose. But lucky people usually end up in positions of power, wherein they get to prosecute/judge the less lucky. One of the Moral Maze contributers was a judge, Lord Gumption. He believes in free will and inbuilt morality; that you can always choose to do the right thing, work hard, avoid wrongdoing. And we should. But can you really be impartial if you have never had to choose between a parking fine or a kid’s pair of shoes? Obviously I’m not advocating anarchy or lawlessness. Just less smug complacency about how lucky people believe they would behave in face of hardship.

The one thing I’ve learned as a midwife is this: when the contractions get tough, you simply don’t know how you’re going to react. Plenty of women discover that the whole concept of “virtuous” natural birth (which they have insisted on all through pregnancy, certainly not encouraged by me, I’m a huge fan of the epidural!) goes out the window. I’m not judging here. Turns out I couldn’t hack it myself. So don’t go telling me you know how you’d behave in times of dire stress, or that you’d definitely be a total hero. You don’t know that. When the sh!t hits the fans, you go into survival mode. Luckily, your midwife will never hold you responsible for your behaviour in your hour of abject desolation. Men nowadays rarely get to discover if they’d be heroes. They assume their inner Bruce Willis will materialise. Women know different. Me? I’m a screamer. I’d definitely run away.

The only person on the panel to have any degree of compassion for wrong-doers was the defense lawyer, who undoubtedly spends the most time with these people. She understood that you can have a clear sense of what’s right, but your circumstances can make it virtually impossible to choose that option and you kinda have to do what is least bad for you in that moment. It was said that her motive was simply to win her cases and get her clients off the hook. Which may well ALSO be true.

No-one talked about the glaring disparity of poorer people in prison compared to general population. Surely you cannot argue solely in favour of free will and moral agency when confronted with the figures. That would be tantamount to saying that richer people are morally superior, and that’s why they aren’t incarcerated.

Craaaayzeee.

Maybe we should accept we are animals. But here’s the thing: animals who haven’t had to compete for scraps while avoiding beatings are much less dangerous. Animals with a full tummy aren’t going to eat you. Animals who have learned to trust you will not attack. Fortunate people who have been brought up with love and full bellies will usually behave like sweet (well cared-for) labradors. Maybe a bit greedy, but friendly, trusting, loyal to bone, unlikely to bite.

But we can do better than animals.  We can pool our resources so that everyone gets good education, health care and housing. We can ensure that everyone can breathe the air around them, that the water we drink is safe. The best way to do that is for the luckiest to pay more tax. If these people want to move to the Gulf states to avoid paying their fair contribution, good luck with that.  A government doesn’t need to make a profit, it is basically a social enterprise which can afford to build things at cost, and negotiate the best deals for the most people.  That’s why they are best placed to improve things for everyone. But governments need cash. The NHS, which is the best thing since forever, needs cash. F*ckloads of it, all the time.

Very privileged people can be overtly egocentric, rule-bending, tax-dodging, money-grabbing, unfairly exploiting, wastefully-spending… but they rarely face consequences for these moral failings, which basically boil down to bog-standard greed. It’s kinda rude to only send the less fortunate to jail for being greedy but poor. If the fortunate, no longer above the law, were routinely sent to prison for longer because they ought to have known better, I have zero doubt that those prisons improve for everyone! If we invested all that lovely fairly taxed cash properly in education, housing, meaningful jobs, health and leisure, thereby eliminating the causes of desperate dog-eat-dog behaviour,  then we’d increase the number of fortunate people who, in turn, would pay more taxes. Otherwise the very fortunate will have to live in guilded cages (sadly I don’t think they’d mind, but obviously they haven’t thought it all the way through), bemoaning the fact that they are victims of a failing, immoral society (that they created and worked hard to perpetuate) full of people who are out to get them. That’s not true, not yet anyway. Because, luckily for them, most people are decent, hopeful and optimistic, hard working and law-abiding against all odds. We should be celebrating and properly rewarding that. Simples!

2 responses to “On luck, morality and privilege”

  1. Cheila avatar

    I laughed at your son saying he’ll be a much better parent than you. I too was the best, most perfect mom before I had any kids. Now that they’re here, I’m usually less than perfect and sometimes even close to mediocre lol The time will come when he’ll see that you were a really good mom and that we’re all doing the best we can.

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  2. midwife.mother.me. avatar

    I thought it too before I had mine. That’s why I was amused when he said it! Obviously I haven’t been perfect, mostly because I refuse to be a slave, but plenty good enough. It’s not easy to find the right balance. But we should give ourselves mega kudos. Our kids are lucky.

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Midwife, Mother, Me

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