From the Journals of Joe.

This is the story of how I die. 

          Ominous introduction out of the way I am going to share with you the story of friendship, that is my friendship with Immanuel Kant, and how said friendship is going to get me killed. I should have realized that the last possible place I should have gone while fleeing from a deranged Ax Murderer is Kant’s house but it would seem he has taught me to not focus on the consequences of my actions but rather the actions themselves. 

          What was I thinking anyway? That my life was more important that his Moral Good? There’s a laugh. He once told a stranger that he was hideous because the man asked if his shirt looked good on him and Kant said he couldn’t lie to him. So obviously he would give me away without a seconds hesitation. After all, he is all gung-ho about the objective principle where he says the principle upon which any rational agent, acting rationally would necessarily act. So basically the only rational thing for im to do is tell the truth because a lie, even in order to save his friend, would be morally wrong when you take away the consequences.  

          I guess it all comes down to deontology. You know, the non-consequentialist theory? It comes from the Greek word “deontos" meaning duty. Based on the 3rd Proposition of Duty: duty is the necessity to act out of reverence for the law. So basically if a person is obligated to do something they ought to do it. Apparently Kant has no duty to me because he cannot garante that the Ax Murderer will actually kill me so his only duty is to telling the truth. 

In my last moments I can only say: why hadn’t I befriended John Stuart Mill?