Suppose that you are a surgeon who is about to perform a very delicate, challenging, lengthy and ultimately risky operation. For most surgeons, the chance that the operation will be a success and that the patient will walk away cured rather than injured (or maybe even die), is only around 30%. But a few really skilled surgeons consistently show a success rate of around 50%, which is attributed to their perceptiveness, mental clarity and superior ability to stay focussed throughout this lengthy procedure. But suppose further that you, an average surgeon, could take certain medications that would have no bad side effects, but which would increase your wakefulness, mental acuity and your ability to stay alert throughout this lengthy procedure, and which as a result could raise your own success rate to around 50%. Should you not take these ‘cognitive enhancement’ medications to give your patients the best chance of recovery and survival? Turning the table, suppose instead that it is your own child who is about to be operated on by another average surgeon who could also take these cognitive enhancement medications – wouldn’t you want the surgeon to take these medications for your child’s benefit? And if they didn’t do so and the operation was a failure, wouldn’t you feel aggrieved because they didn’t do all that it was reasonable to expect them to do, and mightn’t you even feel that this made them negligent or maybe even reckless?
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