Yes, but like a lot of village morality it doesn’t scale up well. Creating an incentive for all members of society to contribute to wealth-creation is fine up to a point, but it doesn’t justify a blind acceptance of laissez-faire market capitalism. A highly relevant argument for our times, though perhaps this is more a political than a philosophical interpretation of the story.

I really have to disagree with the last comment.

What this classic children’s story illustrates is nothing other than the ethical premise of meritocracy. The hen’s point is perfectly sensible and intuitive enough for a child; I am responsible for the existence of said capital, ergo I carry the right to dispose of it.
Not only does she show up all rest of her fellow citizens, but she establishes a value basis on which to participate and persist independently of the current political trend. All because she kept in mind the importance of property rights, and their vital role in the life of the free individual.

Good story to tuck the kids in with, in my opinion.

I think there are two ways to approach this:

1. Is it OK to withdraw an offer once it has been accepted? I’d say if the hen has voluntarily invited the others to eat the bread, and they have accepted the offer, she shouldn’t then withdraw the offer. Whether she can do this will depend on the legal system of the Black Forest or whereever this is supposed to have taken place.

2. Is it OK for her to withhold the food she has produced on her own? This is going to depend on whether the other animals have alternative sources of food. If so, fair enough - if not, and she decides to let them starve to death, I’d say that would be overly harsh. “I’m going to let you die to teach you a lesson about hard work”. If it’s happening every harvest time, that’s another matter.

I think this story is a nice exemplification of Thompson’s distinction between a minimally decent person, and a good samaritan.

Clearly the hen has not basic moral obligation to give her bread to her friends (cases in which all of her friends are starving notwithstanding). She’s living up to her basic minimal obligations of not doing harm to others, and as others have pointed out has a right from traditional senses of property rights to utilize the products that she produces.

But if she wanted to be a moral exemplar, a Good Samaritan as Thompson would call it, she could fulfill her supererogatory duty of being beneficent to her friends/community.

Now the question becomes which one should we encourage? Should we encourage that people only live up to their basic moral obligations, or should we have people aim higher, and fulfill their supererogatory duties? Although there is no demand from morality (if morality were a thing that could demand) to do more than be minimally decent, I’d like to think that we’d want to live in a world with more people who satisfied their supererogatory duties, than not.

I was talking about this case with my office mate, and she brings up the point, why we don’t evaluate the hen’s friends. Her friends are poor friends, in that they neglect to assist their friend in need (not that the need is a great need). So to a certain extent, the notion of reciprocity to her friends is never brought up. But as friends we ought to reciprocate friendly behavior.

Now here is where we disagree. She says that the hen ought not give the bread to her friends, since it would further re-inforce their non-friendly attitudes.

I say despite their non-friendly attitudes, one should still be encouraged (not necessarily fulfill) their superogatory duties. So in this case I can’t say definitively (or any other case for that matter) whether or not the hen should share the bread at all, just that she should be encouraged to do so in general.

But friendship cannot be a one way street, if her deadbeat friends never reciprocate her friendly gesture of a gift of bread, then it seems like they are negligent in their duty as friends to be friendly.

I haven’t really thought this through entirely. I’m just kicking it around in my head still. I do say though, that this is a very intresting case study, and the fact that it is guised in a children’s story makes it even more intresting. I’ve noticed stories like Dr. Seuss’ The Lorax and Beyond Zebra making intresting philosophical points about the environment and thinking in general respectively. I’m not terribly sure if there is a such thing as something being too hair raising for a child to listen to, if it is just framed in the correct narrative.

Dratted fables - they don’t tell you what you need to know. How badly did the hen need help? What were the cat, dog, pig doing? Were they busy? Were they all in robust health? Look, for all we know, they were all busy gathering figs and hazel nuts and chocolate for a communal feast, or chasing off predators that would have eaten the hen in one gulp, or doing the laundry, or studying for the bar exam which would enable them to support the hen in comfort for the rest of her life. It doesn’t say!

OB: the cat, dog and the pig were discussing philosophical questions in a blog, while the hen did the work.

First I should compliment the philosophers in this exchange for demionstrating that philosophy can create complexity in a children’s fable.

Even for phislosophers, it is not correct to demand extra infrormation. ( Whether the others were hungry, what they were doing etc.) All this an attempt at extending the canvass so that the over all picture reflects a moral that one likes.

Once we restrict to the available information, this is a simple story that says that you have to work for whatever you want.

This is not the only moral we teach youngsters. When another moral is being encouraged, a different story will be told.

In the process we tell the most important thing to the children. Morqals are not rules of geometry. They contradict one another and we need to be balance one againest the other

Apropos of an earlier post and willed assumptions required to muddy the waters, did the dog, cat and pig,hereafter referred to
as DCP, practice innumerable acts of altruism thereby mitigating their temporary aberrant mooching ? Or are they just plain, old, run of the mill moochers?
Did the hen read Ayn Rand? We’ll never know.

The first call on anything produced or earned by hens everywhere is with the hen. If the hen wishes, volunteers, to offer her bread to her fellow barnyard citizens she may. This is not per se a moral act. It may be generous on her part, but are the recipients in a justified state as beneficiaries?
Conditions of equity, as well as desert or merit, along with a settled and guarded sense of obligation, are to be considered. DCP, on what we know, fail to meet these requirements. Therefore the act of sharing the bread would be gratuitous, the moral act requiring an intrinsic justice between parties. Neither an unqualified need nor desire save the DCP from the designation of slackers and opportunists.

Now if the barnyard had a government, the hen would be required to give her bread to the unwholesome trio. DCP would think this social justice, the hen would wonder what the hell she baked the bread for. That’s Progress.

All I can say is: chicken sandwiches… :-)

Carolyn Ann

Chicken sandwiches. I take it that’s advice for the dog, the cat, and the pig. Hmm.

I can see how they would be a little annoyed. LRH (little red hen) does seem to set them up a bit. At the end, she has no intention of sharing the bread, but she asks “now who will eat the bread?” Does she relish it when they all say “I will” and she gets to make her speech? (I think so, and for kids hearing this story, it’s the best part.)

Furthermore, she really could have given them a little advance warning. As in–guys, I’m doing all the work around here. If you want any bread, you’d better shape up.

Or…is that too obvious for warnings to be needed? If you work for something, you deserve some of it. If you don’t work for it, you don’t deserve it. And desert is fundamental. But how obvious is that? Utilitarians don’t buy any of this as being fundamental. .

I’m inclined to agree with the LRH’s sense of justice but agree with ST that there are other moral principles as well, which would become clear if you “extended the canvas” in various ways. Or read other stories.

The real questions concerning philosophy and children’s fiction have to do with the philosophy of mind.

http://www.acnr.co.uk/pdfs/volume4issue6/v4i6history.pdf

Did Humpty Dumpty have prosopagnosia? Well?

So who wrote this story, Henry Ford?

In the more detailed version by the Comtesse de la Croque-monsieur, on the Monday the pig went fishing, caught a trout, carried it home, cleaned and gutted it, cooked it, and served it to the group of friends. On the Tuesday, the cat went shopping, bought the ingredients of a paella, carried them home, and served the paella to the group. On the Wednesday, the dog found a can of Alpo, gnawed it open with his teeth, and served it to the group, all of whom politely excused themselves after one bite. So! The hen fails the prisoner’s dilemma, thus revolutionizing social science for the next several decades. And the moral of the story is: don’t make friends with chickens.

I’m afraid I am not familiar with the Comtesse de la Croque-monsieur. Humpty Dumpty does seem to raise some interesting issues. I shall spend the rest of the day practicing the word “prosopagnosia.” It is difficult.

Yes, but in the older, nastier German version, the red hen was actually a white rabbit. It goes like this: on Monday the pig invites his friends to dinner; he goes fishing and brings home a trout, which he cleans and guts and cooks and serves to his friends. “None for me, thanks,” says the little white rabbit. On Tuesday, the cat goes to the market and buys a chicken, which he roasts for his friends. “None for me, thanks,” says the little white rabbit. On Wednesday, the wolf brings down a deer, which he makes into venison sausages. “None for me, thanks,” says the little white rabbit. And on Thursday, the rabbit makes a salad of root vegetables and fall greens. “All for me, thanks,” says the little white rabbit. Whereupon the wolf and cat fall on him hungrily, and the pig gets the leftovers. And the moral of the story is: a rabbit who makes friends with carnivores has made no friends at all.

Bruno Bettelheim has an interesting (if altogether unconvincing) analysis in which the unpleasant end of the little white rabbit gives children a chance to revel in fantasies of murdering their parents while wearing a pretty angora sweater. Marina Warner is more interested in the Comtesse de la Croque-monsieur, whose delightful 17th century tales have unfortunately been obscured by those of the brothers Grimm. Jack Zipes can explain how that happened.

Wait a second, the Comtesse de la Croque-monsieur is real? I thought a croque-monsieur was a kind of sandwich! Or shall I say un sandwiche? And what about the alpo? I’m getting confused.

One question these comments bring up is about the individuation of stories. How different can a story be and still a version of the same story?

No, the Comtesse is not real, you were right the first time, a croque-monsieur is indeed a sandwich. That whole post there is, how shall I say, drivel. Just one of my unphilosophical little japes. No wonder I’m not allowed to post here!

hi, there, it’s me, LRH herself–in the guise of Elderblogger http://www.alittleredhen.com. woo, hoo, i love that you lifted my picture which i lifted myself from the 1943 edition of THE LRH. back in the day wihen kid book illustrators, often female as well as other, got no credit.

as i make clear in my rap about this story, my interest is in changing the ending to one of collaboration amongst the animals. come visit me 10/26/07 when i do some serious posting about counter-recruitment ideas for elders.

yours, loving imitation, naomi

For a second there I thought I might be under arrest…but I always do think of grabbing a picture as a form of flattery. The story does seem to tell kids the wrong thing–like there’s just no way to avoid this all around unfortunate outcome. If only they’d all sat down and talked about their problems! Of course, then you’d lose the whole sadistic delight of the story’s end…the delicious moment when those lazy friends get what they deserve.

[...] have some more philosophy for kids. The last installment of this occasional series was for age 3 and up. This is for age 8 and up. Here [...]

[...] about some more philosophy for kids ? (For earlier posts in this sometimes series, see The Little Red Hen and Small [...]

It is easy for unschooled thoughts like mine to wager a guess as to the outcome of choices made, but it is difficult to say that there are considerations beyond one’s understanding…