Tagged: morality

Subsuming The Irenaean Theodicy Into Atheism

For starters, I will reiterate what I wrote in my response to Hellenistic Christendom:

Both Irenaeus and Hick systematized human (Libertarian) free will.1 Arguably, there’s an inconsistency in their view of free will because they don’t focus on the origin of the human propensity for evil, i.e., original sin. If one were interested in a systematic reconciliation of the Original Sin Theodicy and Hick’s theodicy, it would be a rather simple task. The only issue would be in assuming that God allowed the Fall because he wanted human beings to ascend to moral perfection. He wanted to give us a choice and of course, a choice isn’t real unless there are alternatives. You can choose to lead an immoral life, to live in sin, or you can, per the Old Testament, keep God’s commandments or, per the New Testament, confess your sins and accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior. This sort of theodicy would run into exegetical issues, however. Human beings do not, on their own will, ascend to moral perfection. According to Ephesians 2:8, “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.”

Moral perfection or perhaps better put, holiness, isn’t a summit one reaches; it is more like, especially given allusions in the Bible (e.g. Colossians 3), a garment that you are adorned with. So Irenaeus and Hicks failed at this systematization because they forgot that “he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit” (Titus 3:5). As a person driven by great personal pride, I can see the allure of Irenaeus and Hicks’ point of view; we are essentially Sisyphus, but we succeed at pushing the boulder to the summit! It is, however, not a Christian point of view.

But can it be a naturalistic, atheistic point of view? There’s quite a lot to unpack if one were to entertain the pertinent and yet tangential discussion on determinism and free will. If human beings have free will, it is highly probable that it is not congruous with the Libertarian view, the notion that ceteris paribus, one could choose a different course of action. Suffice to say that a Nietzschean view is more probable: the great person is distinct from the ordinary person and it is through great people that we achieve moral nobility.2

I happen to think that Nietzsche was right in his conclusion though one would be hard pressed to find in his works anything resembling a cogent argument supporting said conclusion. Nietzsche thoroughly explains the difference between great people and the herd and these allusions are present in his treatment of master and slave morality and in his idea of the Übermensch. Nietzsche, however, does not provide us with a road map detailing how a slave becomes a master, how a member of the herd ascends to greatness. In fact, for Nietzsche, it’s not so much an ascent to greatness, but rather a descent, especially given how important suffering and solitude were to him and should be for a great person.

So I want to offer an informal argument because, to my mind, determinism is the wind at the back of every member of the herd. Even absent Irenaeus’ omniscient god, in where it would be hard to reconcile human free will with this deity’s predetermination, on naturalism, there is a sense in which most actions, moral or otherwise, are predetermined. Although I don’t think determinism applies to mundane actions (see here), I think it certainly applies to actions carrying greater consequences and moral implications. So before a person becomes great and strives for moral perfection, one must first become aware of as many determinants as possible, so that in having this awareness, one assumes control of the determinants that would otherwise determine a given decision.

Nietzsche’s great person does not leave the herd by accident, but rather by getting to know the chaos. Nietzsche describes it thus:

Cause and effect: such a duality probably never exists; in truth we are confronted by a continuum out of which we isolate a couple of pieces, just as we perceive motion only as isolated points and then infer it without ever actually seeing it. The suddenness with which many effects stand out misleads us; actually it is sudden only for us. In this moment of sudden- ness there is an infinite number of processes that elude us. An intellect that could see cause and effect as a continuum and a flux and not, as we do, in terms of an arbitrary division and dismemberment, would repudiate the concept of cause and effect and deny all conditionality.3

A great person therefore has the kind of intellect that doesn’t separate and breaks things, and categorizes them as causes and effects. Such a person would see the entire continuum and moreover, their role within that continuum. As such, this individual would not be controlled by cultural norms, societal expectations, religious tenets, and so on. This person would be able to act free from all determinants, assuming a well-placed tumor doesn’t dictate his/her behavior.4

An atheist who subsumes Irenaeus’ theodicy or perhaps more accurately, the thinking that underlies his theodicy, has to be the kind of individual that becomes great. Then s/he is free to pursue moral perfection. In keeping with Sartre’s atheistic existentialism, such an atheist would will meaning for the suffering and evil we see in the world and may take it upon themselves to help others transcend the herd mentality. This thinking is implicit on the Kardashev scale. Michio Kaku, for instance, thinks of the human race as a type 0 civilization, on the cusp of a worldwide language (English), interconnected (the Internet), and technically advanced enough to harness the energy of the planet. It is not, however, a type I civilization capable of harnessing the energy of its star (e.g. Dyson Sphere) or controlling natural disasters like hurricanes and earthquakes.5 Scientists and philosophers alike have entertained the idea that the destiny of humanity is an ascent up the Kardashev scale, but prior to doing so, what’s implied is a moral ascent, for it will take a moral species to disarm its militaries and set aside its sociopolitical and cultural differences.

So while Irenaeus’ theodicy is incongruous with Christian theology, it is not inconsistent with atheism. We do not need a god who wants us to achieve moral perfection. We can very well expect that of ourselves and of one another. Unfortunately, there’s a lot of work to be done both personally and collectively. Assuming Nietzsche was right, greatness is reserved for a select few while mediocrity awaits the herd. Perhaps then what’s needed is the right kind of master so that the subordinates have a good example to follow. I hold that Irenaeus had in mind a noble view of the human species and that regardless of the fact that his view is not in keeping with Christian theology, for an atheist to write off his theodicy either as an ineffective justification of suffering and evil or an interesting heresy is tantamount to tossing the baby out with the bath water. Irenaeus saw the great potential in the human race and he thought it possible that we could, of our own will, achieve moral perfection. It is a noble view that any atheist should adopt; it is probably the view at the heart of humanism. We are truly better without a god!

Works Cited

1 Cramer, David C. “John Hick (1922-2012)”International Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Web. ND.

2 Anderson, R. Lanier. “Friedrich Nietzsche”. Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. 17 Mar 2017. Web.

3 Kaufmann, Walter. “The Gay Science”. Nietzsche, Friedrich Wilhelm, 1844-1900. The Gay Science; with a Prelude in Rhymes and an Appendix of Songs. New York :Vintage Books, 1974. p. 173.

4 Choi, Charles. “Brain tumour causes uncontrollable paedophilia”New Scientist. 21 Oct 2002. Web.

5 Creighton, Jolene. “The Kardashev Scale – Type I, II, III, IV & V Civilization”. 19 Jul 2014. Web.

Modern Christians Are Polytheists

In the past, I’ve argued that modern Christians, especially them with apologetic bents, worship two gods. A couple days ago, I got into a debate with one of the moderators at Capturing Christianity. Eventually, this moderator, who another moderator called a “firecracker” whose behavior online is worth examining, got upset after demanding a deductive argument to prove my point. I reiterated to him that philosophy proper isn’t done that way, so while he’s use to the deductive arguments Christian apologists are overly fond of, actual philosophical works don’t proceed in that manner. One is tasked with reading and deciphering paragraph after paragraph of philosophical thought and insight in order to grasp either an argument or the overall philosophy of a given philosopher.

Regardless of this, I obliged and provided a deductive argument that was patterned after Craig’s Moral Argument. I did this so that he wouldn’t be able to deny its validity. He would have then been obligated to discuss whether the argument is sound. Unfortunately, as is the case with a lot of wannabe apologists, this moderator was philosophically inept and therefore, devoid of any knowledge, perfunctory or otherwise, of how philosophy works. I will present that argument here and then present a fuller argument to show that Christians with apologetic bents indeed worship two, irreconcilable gods. The argument is as follows.

P1 If moral values and duties come from god, he wouldn’t violate moral universals

P2  God does violate moral universals

C Therefore, moral values and duties do not come from god

Like Craig’s Moral Argument, this is a modus tollens argument. If the consequent is false then we can infer that the antecedent is also false. Of course, someone may then ask what exactly do I mean by “God does violate moral universals.”

The specific moral universal he and I were discussing isn’t simply the more common universal against murder, but specifically the universal against infanticide. I told him that even the most ardent relativist accepts that different cultures do not routinely murder infants, especially in large numbers. He could at least grasp the concept of moral universals and as such, he didn’t disagree with that. What he could not do is disprove the fact that his god, per the Bible, committed infanticide, and on more than one occasion (Exodus 12:29-30; 1 Samuel 15:3)! He eventually removed me from the page because it’s clear he didn’t want other Christians to see what he thought was a dangerous line of thinking, the same line of thinking that has led many to atheism.

In the same breath, such Christians maintain that they worship a perfectly good god from whom moral values and duties extend from and that they worship a god who committed infanticide. There are other inconsistencies still; for example, Christians are usually against abortion and yet they worship a god who committed abortions. My interest, as always, is whether a Christian can reconcile these two concepts. Given my argument above and my extended argument, the answer is a resounding no. The extended argument, in the deductive logic that Christians love, would look as follows.

P1 If moral values and duties extend from a morally perfect god, this god wouldn’t violate moral universals

P2 The Judeo-Christian god violates moral universals

C Therefore, moral values and duties do not extend from the Judeo-Christian god

C2 Inference: The Judeo-Christian god is not a morally perfect god

C3 Inference: Moral values and duties might extend from another god who is morally perfect

Given my extended argument, either a Christian is tasked to find a candidate that better fits the description of a morally perfect deity from who moral values and duties extend from (which is what I allude to in C3)  or admit that the Judeo-Christian god is incompatible with the god alluded to in the Moral Argument. An honest Christian would seek the truth and eventually run into my Argument From Assailability. There isn’t a god in any religion who fits that description. So they are left with two conclusions: a) the Judeo-Christian god doesn’t fit the description b) the gods of other religions don’t fit the description. From there, atheism is all but inevitable because P2 can easily read “Allah violates moral universals” or “Ahura Mazda violates moral universals” or “Shiva violates moral universals,” and so on and so forth. Of course, the conclusion would then follow that moral values and duties do not extend from any of these gods, and after so many of these exercises, you will also have the following, what is clearly an explosive, pun very much intended, conclusion:

C4 Inference: Moral values and duties do not extend from a god who is morally perfect

So it’s not simply that atheism becomes inevitable, but that one is now left with the much harder work of explaining the origin of morality and also explaining how it works: Why are there universals? Why does morality appear to differ from culture to culture and throughout time? What role, if any, does reason play in morality? What school, if any, has succeeded at explaining how morality works? What school, if any, has succeeded in the project of moral ontology? What merit does moral pluralism have? Is the assumption that law proceeded morality mistaken?

There are so many questions one can ask and seek answers for. The issue is that philosophy proper isn’t really appealing to Christians because they purport to know all the answers and are thus, enamored with the notion that there’s one, absolute answer to any question. Because of this, they can’t accept that some questions have nuanced and even convoluted answers; other questions simply don’t have an answer. Philosophy proper deals with a lot of unknowns and uncertainty, which is far from the absolute knowledge Christianity purports to offer.

In any case, what’s clear is that the two concepts they have are incongruous and the false congruity they present is borne of cognitive dissonance. Christians routinely ignore what god did according to the Old Testament. Yet this is the being Jesus called “father”! This is precisely what led Marcionites and his followers to conclude that Yahweh was, in fact, an evil deity and that he wasn’t the father Jesus referred to. Christians routinely ignore most of the Old Testament because a lot of it contradicts what they’re told to believe about god: he’s good, merciful, loving. The Old Testament reveals a god who is far from that! So it may not be that just wannabe apologists are polytheists; it’s also that everyday Christians believe in two distinct concepts of god as well: the god portrayed in “the word of god,” which includes the Old Testament, and the more palatable figment borne of the human need for moral sanity and decency.

So when a wannabe apologist approaches you with the highbrow nonsense “Where do you get your morals from!?”, please refer them to this argument or present it to them. I guarantee you what will follow is frustration, name calling and insults, and an abrupt end to your conversation because Christians don’t want the skin falling from their eyes; they don’t want the veil lifted on their cognitive dissonance. It’s akin to opening a wound. Some of them are painfully aware of this, but continue to subscribe to false beliefs. They also don’t want to be made to realize that they don’t have the moral high ground and that their take on the origin of morality is woefully wrong. Despite Capturing Christianity’s cocksure insistence, Christianity is not true!


The Injustice of Tithing and the Anti-Tithe

By R.N. Carmona

In reading Peter Singer’s Famine, Affluence, and Morality, I came across the bit in where he mentions that he and his wife donate 10 percent of their gross income to Oxfam. I was at first astounded by that figure, but 10 percent sounded all too familiar, so that got me thinking. 10 percent is precisely how much a tithe is in church. You’re advised to give 10 percent of your gross income to the church. This will of course pay the church’s rent and thus, keep the doors open, but it will also buy furniture and fixtures, pay for repairs and maintenance, and, in the best case scenario for the church leader, line the minister’s pockets.

Singer argues that if everyone gave in accordance to his utility margin – a threshold at which you give just enough so that you don’t increase your own suffering and the suffering of your kin – one would not only be leading an ethical life, but one would also be helping to alleviate poverty on a global scale and feed starving children. To help bolster his case, he quotes Aquinas who states:

Therefore the division and appropriation of property, which proceeds from human law, must not hinder the satisfaction of man’s necessity from such goods. Equally, whatever a man has in superabundance is owed, of natural right, to the poor for their sustenance. So Ambrosius says, and it is also to be found in the Decretum Gratiani: “The bread which you withhold belongs to the hungry; the clothing you shut away, to the naked; and the money you bury in the earth is the redemption and freedom of the penniless.

Leave it to a thinker greatly admired by Protestants and Catholics alike to make a case against tithing, not to mention the excessive and elaborate riches of the Catholic church. Surely, a Catholic apologist will not fail to mention that the Catholic church can be considered a charitable organization in its own right; this will no doubt be followed by boastful posts like this one, all in an effort to distract from the point being made.

Tithing is an injustice. That churches, organizations that pay no taxes, require its members to give 10 percent of their gross incomes is ludicrous. If instead they were to give 10 percent of their incomes to charities that can be trusted (e.g., UNICEF, American Cancer Society), they would do more to help others. The tithe does nothing but what I mentioned earlier: keep the doors open, pay for expenses, and line the minister’s pocket. To the believer, it also opens up the windows of heaven for a blessed abundance. In this also, one can see the basest self-interest that drives the believer. Who cares about the child in the pond when the believer receives his blessing? Who cares about children dying of childhood cancers when above the believer the doors of heaven have opened up? 10 percent of their income means much more for them though if redirected away from the church and toward charitable organizations, it could mean a hell of a lot more to others.

So, to summarize, the believer prefers his invisible, faith-based blessings over the sustenance of others. Certainly a good number of believers will mention feeding the homeless, coat drives, and the like, but fail to mention that, at best, such activities happen once a week or once a month and this, at convenient times of the year. The believer also prefers to keep his community church’s doors open over the well-being of others, especially them in foreign countries. Singer touches on this as well, as people in general tend to believe proximity affects whether or not an act has moral significance. Add to that that bystander effect becomes more pronounced as we are very often not the only people capable of offering help and thus, we often rely on the intuition that one of us among the many will take charge. Sometimes and often with disastrous consequences, no one leaps into action; everyone falls victim to that same flawed intuition.

I’m not interested in exegetical debates about tithing, but it was my belief as a Christian that tithing was not canonical as it related to the New Testament. Yes, it is mentioned explicitly in the Old Testament and it is one of those convenient items dragged out of the barbarism of the Old Testament canon, but it is not advised by neither Jesus nor Paul. Jesus, in Matthew 23:23 mentions tithing, but this is more in condemnation of the Pharisees and not as a principle for his disciples to follow. Paul never explicitly makes mention of it and as I remember discussing with a then “brother” in the church, Paul would seem to advise a “give as much as you can possibly give” sort of principle, a principle of equality as seen in 2 Corinthians 8:13-15. Given this, there is a sense in which tithing is justified by ministers as means to keep the church open and as means to expand, as is common in Protestant denominations in New York. Tithing is unjust in the main because it’s an elaborate deception preached to the believer as biblical truth. It is unjust furthermore because it would ask a believer to give a significant portion of his post-tax income to an endeavor that is trivial when compared to the plethora of issues people face in the modern world.

With this in mind, I propose the Anti-Tithe. I want to be a leader of many in this movement that compels non-believers and non-Christians to give as much as 10 percent of their income to charitable organizations of their choosing. Now, I am not advising that one give exactly 10 percent. If you cannot donate that much of your income, then don’t. Give 3% or 5% or even 1%; give in accordance with your own situation. I myself cannot afford to go as high as 10 percent. But if you see tithing as unjust and moreover, you see the issues humanity faces and see the need and moral obligation to help those in need, then the Anti-Tithe Movement should make sense. Eventually, I want the movement to lose that identity as I don’t want it tied to the appalling practice of tithing in any way, shape, or form. I do want, at least initially, to contrast it with tithing for sake of winning over believers as well. I want believers to realize that that percentage of income can do far more good! I want them to develop an anti-tithing attitude irregardless of whether they continue to believe as they do.

When Singer wrote his seminal work in 1971, 9 million or so refugees were in crisis in what is today Eastern Pakistan. Today, in the wake of Hurricane Matthew, many Haitians are in need. Many childhood terminal illnesses are harming children across the country and around the world. Many women and children find themselves below the poverty line in the U.S. Syrian refugees are in crisis. Child poverty is still too high for our comfort and about 6 million of the world’s children die before the age of five due to preventable causes like malaria and pneumonia. There are still plenty of problems to solve, plenty of causes to support. The Anti-Tithe Movement is a segue into compelling humanists to live a more ethical life. It is the beginning of a shift in collective consciousness, an increased sense of responsibility and accountability towards others. We may not be accountable to any god, but we have moral obligations to one another, so if you can forgo a new pair of Jordans, a new palette of makeup, or a newer model of the car you favor, and instead give to a cause(s) of your choice, please do. The old childhood mantra of “make the world a better place” comes to mind. The world is our place, so if it isn’t better, it’s our fault. Let us change that.

The Quanderies of Existence

By R.N. Carmona

I can envision waking up in this body, becoming conscious, and somehow being plugged into the ugliness of human existence and the world. I can imagine being distracted by bird songs, the waves of the ocean, a starry night, the chill of a winter breeze, and the warmth of a sunrise. The beauty of nature can become scales over my eyes, a way to blind myself from the horrors of the world. For every child stricken with a fatal disease, the laughter of children playing in the grass can bring me to forget their plights. For every casualty of war, I can recall the sight of two people in love. For every victim of a natural disaster, I can focus on those who survived. I can exist in a state of perpetual forgetfulness so as to avoid the quandaries of human life.

Like Ultron, I can reason that humanity is to blame. We are the catalysts of climate change, of war, of social inequalities, and of the misfortune of others. For our own personal gain, individualistic and selfish drives, we would ensure the poverty of another human being. To sustain our own life, we would allow for the death of another person. There is no one willing to walk away from Omelas, even after realizing that our joy and the entirety of our way of life depend on the misery of a child in extreme poverty. Humanity stands on bones, the filth of urine and feces from centuries past, and the dried up blood of their ancestors. How forgetful they are of the price people paid. How soon they forget the sweet taste of dying for one’s country or the reality of the bitterness of that sacrifice.

If such thoughts are to cloud my judgment, suffocate my incessant faith in humanity, am I to conclude like Rust Cohle that humanity is an evolutionary aberration, a freak accident, and that our inevitable end is a mass suicide. Deforestation, animal slaughterhouses, the impact we have on our oceans and on the wildlife within it, extinction events, the blind eye, and the bystander effect is our doing. We procrastinate on these quandaries, await a savior, a genius, or a scapegoat. Often we would sweep the dirt under the rug to save face or be content with pointing out that it isn’t really our problem if we haven’t directly contributed to it. What scum we are!

Surely proceeding this way is to a detriment, for one must realize that humans are also best qualified to address these quandaries. What is required is an elevation of consciousness. The alternative is a willful connection to the web, a replaying of all of these horrors, a revisiting of the grief and the loss. Perhaps humanity is the psychopathic Alex who needs to be tied down to a chair and entranced by these collective memories. Resurrect the bones before them, make the blood flow again, allow the blood of immolations to spill onto his face, and let him watch as the laughter of one child becomes the screams of another. Keep his eyes open by force and make him watch!

In fact, make them all watch, for a state of perpetual forgetfulness is the broad way and many go by it. The narrow way is the path of reminder, the valley not of death’s shadow but of its presence, a cold and unceasing night in where the howls of the wind are indistinguishable from the lamentations, the cries for help, the hands reaching out. This is the nightmare in the mind of one traveling along the narrow path. Yet the persistence of these reminders are like watches melting because decay will run its course. Someday them on the narrow path will be covered in ants, rigor mortis will be accelerated by the intensity of the Sun’s heat, the smell of decay will be yet another landmark long forgotten by them in a state of perpetual forgetfulness. Them who sleep must wake.

The price for some may be too steep. To forgo rejuvenation, to refuse the silencing of awareness, to close the door on a portal to imagination, the Freudian unconscious, and fantasy, and to remain in a dimension where dreams no longer materialize and in where a nightmare turns another page to draft a new chapter might prove too heavy a cross to bear. But bear it we must! The god isn’t above, the savior is not lost to history, the genius isn’t awaiting her advent. They are all alive right here, right now, and they walk among you. You look at them in the mirror, have intimate access to their thoughts and emotions, and actively seek to suppress their voices. To he that has an ear, let him hear what the spirit has to say. The spirit speaks unto you, reminds you, calls to you, tugs at you, and tells you to walk the narrow path.

The voices crying in the wilderness have cried before. They too are now forgotten. I too will be forgotten. One day I may take the easy way out, the path of least resistance, enter the state of perpetual forgetfulness, remember that the portal of dreams lies slightly ajar. I might decide to silence the reverberating echoes of the endless night along the narrow path. I’ve fled Omelas, but the dreamer I drag along soiled in dirt and bloodied. The dreamer wants the control he lost. He continuously yearns to steer off the narrow path and rejoin the masses on the broad. But I remember and I remember perpetually. Do not now forget what the spirit has spoken.

Print is Now Live on Amazon.com!

Book is now available for purchase here! Here are the Table of Contents to whet the appetite:


Chapter 1: Philosophical Approaches to Atheism

Chapter 2: Refuting the Kalam Cosmological Argument

Chapter 3: The Moral Argument Refuted

Chapter 4: Refuting Plantinga’s Victorious Ontological Argument

Chapter 5: On Qualia and A Refutation of the Argument from Consciousness

Chapter 6: Refuting the Fine-Tuning Argument

Chapter 7: The Failures of Aquinas’ Five Ways

Chapter 8: Transcendental Arguments and Presuppositionalism Refuted

Chapter 9: The Argument from Assailability

Chapter 10: The Arguments from History and The Multiplicity of Religions

Chapter 11: The Argument from Cosmology

Chapter 12: On the Leibnizian Cosmological Argument


I hope you guys enjoy!

Procedural Realism: Refuting the Moral Argument For God

Proponents of the Moral Argument share a view known as substantive realism, which is the view that states that “there are correct procedures for answering moral questions because there are moral truths or facts, which exist independently of those procedures, and which those procedures track.”1

Let’s consider the fatal flaws this position has:

  • Whether one argues that morality is simply objective or it’s objective because it hinges on god, the view begs the question and thus isn’t justified. Begging the question is a fallacy, so a view that begs the question is either incorrect or must be revised so as to eliminate the fallacy in question.
  • The view is unjustifiably metaphysical. It, in other words, argues that morality is innate. It cannot be learned. It is part of the maker’s mark that god supposedly imprinted in us.
  • Given the weaknesses of this view, we need to look elsewhere; in other words, given that it isn’t enough to posit that morality is contingent on a deity, we’ve more work to do.

Prior to discussing procedural realism as contrasted with substantive realism, the notion alluded to in the second bullet point–which is, in fact, the notion alluded to by any proponent of the Moral Argument–was put to rest by the father of empiricism, John Locke. He argued that moral principles are not innate. One reason for this is because they aren’t universally assented to. We don’t come to immediate consensus on right and wrong the way we do when concerning the laws of logic. To put it another way, no matter the person or culture, the laws of identity, of non-contradiction, and of excluded middle are universally agreed upon. If any person fails to act in accordance with those laws, that person has failed to think or has lost his/her capacity to reason. This is not the case with morality.

Locke argues, for instance, that the consensus on whether an action is right or wrong has everything to do with how generalized the action was. Proponents of the Moral Argument argue that we all know it’s wrong to lie, to murder, or to rape, and from this, they conclude that morality proceeds from god and since we’re created in his image, moral values and duties have been ingrained in our souls since creation. Yet if we were to get more specific, agreement dissolves. Have a discussion, for example, on euthanasia, self-defense murder, and Anne Frank-esque sort of lies, i.e., lies that literally save lives or keeps one from harm, and you’ll immediately see that there’s absolutely no consensus on these matters.

The reason is because, as Locke further argued, we are likelier to provide reasons and justifications for our moral behavior. If it’s innate or proceeds from god, there will be no disagreement on these epistemic fronts. We would, in other words, be readily able to show why such an action is right or wrong. There would be no need to prove the correctness or incorrectness of an action, since this would already be known to us.2 Unfortunately, this isn’t the only claim implicit in the Moral Argument, so there’s more to be said.

Enter procedural realism: “there are answers to moral questions because there are correct procedures for arriving at them.”3 Such a procedure could be Kant’s CI procedure or a problem-solution model. Or it could be something simpler. The procedures could even vary. In narrowing our focus, we should consider Kant’s CI procedure, which can be expressed in the following ways. There are four formulas for us to consider4:

1) The Formula of the Law of Nature: “Act as if the maxim of your action were to become through your will a universal law of nature.”

Kant placed a lot of emphasis on autonomy. Modern Kantians like John Rawls and Christine Korsgaard place similar emphasis on autonomy, but they also speak of self-legislation. This formulation is compelling because moral truths could arise from mere human agency rather than divine authority. One may contend that a psychopath would will murder as if it were a universal law of nature. However, like Goldstein, I would argue that morality is akin to crowdsourced knowledge; morality is, in other words, the culmination of human efforts spanning centuries. Rebecca Goldstein puts it this way:

There’s some ideal algorithm for working it out, for assigning weights to different opinions. Maybe we should give more weight to people who have lived lives that they find gratifying and that others find admirable. And, of course, for this to work the crowd has to be huge; it has to contain all these disparate vantage points, everybody who’s starting from their own chained-up position in the cave [Plato’s cave analogy]. It has to contain, in principle, everybody. I mean, if you’re including just men, or just landowners, or just people above a certain IQ, then the results aren’t going to be robust.5

This is a point I often make about moral epistemology. I argue that there are moral classes that are roughly analogous to economic classes. Some people have more moral expertise and therefore, lead more admirable and ethical lives. The average person is, at the very least, better than the career criminal. Sam Harris has endorsed this idea. He states:

Whenever we are talking about facts, certain opinions must be excluded. That is what it is to have a domain of expertise; that is what it is for knowledge to count. How have we convinced ourselves that in the moral sphere, there is no such thing as moral expertise or moral talent or moral genius even? How have we convinced ourselves that every opinion has to count? How have we convinced ourselves that every culture has a point of view on these subjects worth considering? Does the Taliban have a point of view on physics that is worth considering? No. How is their ignorance any less obvious on the subject of human well-being?6

Sam Harris is talking about moral classes. One reason some of us are convinced that there can’t be moral expertise, talent, or genius is because of fervent religious belief. Christians argue that without god, true morality cannot be achieved. Without god, all we’re left with is human opinion–-as though all human opinion is equal. Some opinions are undoubtedly better than others. The opinions that have been thus far expressed are better than those of Christians who disagree with them. It should be clear to any impartial third party that one side has thought more, read more, studied more, questioned more, and so on, and that in light of this, one set of opinions is superior to the other.

In the same vein as Harris, Goldstein talked about ruling out the peculiarities of certain people. Every moral opinion doesn’t count and that’s because some people and groups are morally superior to others. Unless one wants to argue that people are generally on par with the Taliban when it comes to morality, they’re admitting to the fact that there are moral classes. As stated, a simple corollary are economic classes. It’s clear that some people are prosperous and others are not. Some people can afford mansions and luxury cars; some people can afford a three-story house; others can barely afford an apartment and still others can scarcely afford a room; still others are homeless. In like manner, some people are simply morally superior to others and when looked at objectively, one will quickly realize that religious affiliation has nothing to do with it.

Some people, for instance, can see the injustice in discrimination and perpetrating acts of prejudice against minorities and gays. Some Christians cannot. Any Christian or non-Christian that has the capacity to see such injustice is in a higher moral class than Westboro Baptist and conservative, right wing Christians.

Some are admittedly anti-gay. This makes clear that they advocate restrictive legislation against them. They will protest the legislation of gay marriage though it’s already been made legal. They likely argue to invalidate the love gay couples share; this is quite common among conservatives. They misrepresent gays by accusing them of succumbing to so called sinful concupiscence. I, for one, wouldn’t advocate restrictive legislation against a group if whatever they’re doing isn’t harming anyone. Other than self-righteousness, what do they care if gays marry? Are they at their weddings? Are they watching them as they consummate their marriages? Are they there when homosexual couples choose to raise children? Conservative Christians might clamor about public displays of affection, but it’s not like straight people don’t forget to get a room! Given their self-proclaimed discriminatory stances, it can be stated without hesitation that they’re in a lower moral class than Christians and non-Christians who don’t think that way.

2) The Formula of the End Itself: “Act in such a way that you always treat humanity, whether in your own person or in the person of any other, never simply as a means, but always at the same time as an end.”

What is meant by treating a person never simply as a means, but always as an end? This means to extend kindness to others with no intention of exploiting them, e.g. I’ll befriend this guy because he’s rich. You may contend that this sounds like Jesus’ Golden Rule. The Golden Rule, first and foremost, isn’t original to Jesus. This will be much more relevant shortly. Patricia Churchland puts it succinctly:

The Golden Rule (“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”) is very often held up as a judicious rule, and exceptionless rule, and a rule that is universally espoused, or very close to it. (Ironically perhaps, Confucius, though known to prefer the development of virtues to instruction by rules, might have been among the first to give voice to a version of this maxim, though given his broad approach to morality, it is likely he offered it as general advice rather than as an exceptionless rule.)7

Like Churchland, I don’t think the Golden Rule is sufficient. Also, this formulation is simply not the Golden Rule. Don Berkich, Philosophy professor at Texas A&M stated the following:

“Some  make the mistake of thinking that the First Formulation of the Categorical Imperative is but a badly worded version of the Biblical “Golden Rule”–Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Nothing could be further from the truth. The Golden Rule, as Kant well knew, is a deeply misguided ethical principle. To see this, consider the following somewhat salacious example.

Suppose that Martin is 20 year-old college student. Suppose further that Martin has never been out on a date. The woman of his dreams finally agrees to go out with him. So Martin gets all dressed up and takes her out to a nice dinner, after which they drive up to Lookout Point. And…Martin does unto others as he would have done unto himself, with disastrous consequences. Because the same result cannot be obtained by application of the Categorical Imperative, it follows that the Golden Rule and the Categorical Imperative are not extensionally equivalent.”8

Kant argued that if we were to act to harm others, civilization would come to an end. It follows then that we’ll act to the benefit of one another. This is where Kant’s notion of a Kingdom of Ends comes from. We’ll get this shortly.

On the Golden Rule, a necessary tangent is required. The Golden Rule, according to Christians, is original to Jesus despite historical facts to the contrary. Jesus is, however, considered god incarnate. He is one with Yahweh. He is one mode of the Triune godhead. Therefore, if the Moral Argument is right in stating that moral values and duties exist because god exists, then these moral values and duties are based on a flawed ethical view known as egoism. This is precisely what Jesus advocates in the Golden Rule. In other words, any right action is the product of your own self-interest. The benefits I can reap are the basis of all my actions. Without diverging too far, I reject the Golden Rule and all variants of egoism for the same reason Louis Pojman rejected it:

We do not always consciously seek our own satisfaction or happiness when we act. In fact, some people seem to seek their own unhappiness, as masochists and self-destructive people do, and we all sometimes seem to act spontaneously without consciously considering our happiness.9

Given this, if the Golden Rule is a rudimentary formulation of egoism–-and I see no compelling reason to think it’s not–-we can reject Jesus’ ethical system and therefore, god’s basis for moral values and duties. It follows that the Moral Argument is wrong.

3) The Formula of Autonomy: “So act that your will can regard itself at the same time as making universal law through its maxims.”

This is related to the first formulation, but this formulation puts more emphasis on autonomy and like modern Kantians would argue, self-legislation. This formula of autonomy has manifested itself time and again. Morally superior people are not only admirable, but they compel others to emulate them. This formulation is prominent in rearing children. Children learn moral behavior from their parents, so in a sense, this goes back to Locke; if moral principles are innate, they would, in his words, be known to “children and idiots.” Children quickly learn what’s apt and what’s inappropriate given other people’s feedback. If they do something wrong, they’re scolded. If they do something right, they’re commended. Going back to the notion of inverting authority into oneself, the child then becomes an adult who (roughly) follows the moral values instilled in her during childhood. She then becomes an autonomous self-legislator. God isn’t necessary once again and thus, the Moral Argument is wrong.

4) The Formula of the Kingdom of Ends: “So act as if you were through your maxims a law-making member of a kingdom of ends.”

This formulation is the most compelling given that it absorbs, so to speak, the other formulations. Kant didn’t only speak of wills; he spoke of rational wills. Thus, under this formulation, we are to act in such a way that would be acceptable in a community of rational wills. In a community of rational wills, rape and murder would be unacceptable. Since people are autonomous, taking their lives is a violation of their autonomy. Your fellow rational wills will also recognize you as an autonomous individual and thus, without any need for Jesus’ Golden Rule or more generally, egoism, the rights conferred to them will also be conferred to you. It certainly looks as though developed countries look a lot more like Kant’s Kingdom of Ends than like a society of egoists pursuing their own self-interests. Even despite capitalism, people enjoy charity, sharing, altruism, and equality. People, in other words, recognize one another as autonomous and there are strict laws in place to punish people who violate the autonomy of others.

Ultimately, the Christian demand for an authority is quelled by the fact that we, at the very least, possess the potential to legislate. That is to say that anyone of us can be exemplary moral agents. Kant’s rational will is preferable over the Hobbesian sovereign who can bend and break laws as he pleases. Such a sovereign sounds a lot like god. Also, their demand for a viable non-theistic ethical view has been addressed. The Moral Argument has not only been refuted, but the superiority of procedural realism, as a viable non-theistic view, has also been established.

Works Cited

1 Korsgaard, Christine M., and Onora Neill.The Sources of Normativity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. 36-37. Print.

2 See Locke, John. An Essay Concerning Human Understanding in Cahn, Steven M. Ed. Classics of Western Philosophy, 7th Ed. Hackett Publishing Company, Inc. Indianapolis/Cambridge. 2006. 630-632. Print.

3 Ibid. [2]

4  Pecorino, Philip A. “Chapter Two: Ethical Traditions”. Queensborough Community College. 2002.

5 Goldstein, Rebecca. Plato at the Googleplex: Why Philosophy Won’t Go Away. New York: Pantheon Books, 2014. 105. Print.

6 Churchland, Patricia Smith. Braintrust: What Neuroscience Tells Us About Morality. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2011. 168. Print.

7 Pojman, Louis P. Ethics: Discovering Right and Wrong. Belmont, Calif.: Wadsworth Pub., 1990. 84. Print.

8 Ibid. [4]

9 Bagnoli, Carla. “Constructivism in Metaethics”. Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. 2011.

The Failure of The Golden Rule

By R.N. Carmona

The Golden Rule (“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”) is very often held up as a judicious rule, and exceptionless rule, and a rule that is universally espoused, or very close to it. (Ironically perhaps, Confucius, though known to prefer the development of virtues to instruction by rules, might have been among the first to give voice to a version of this maxim, though given his broad approach to morality, it is likely he offered it as general advice rather than as an exceptionless rule.) So it must be asked: since we are familiar with the Golden Rule, and it seems like an excellent rule, why are moral philosophers still hunting around for the fundamental rule that should guide all behavior? What more than adherence to the Golden Rule do we need to live a virtuous life?

The general appeal of the Golden Rule has not gone unappreciated by moral philosophers, but they have also realized it has shortcomings as a reliable guide in moral conflict. Under scrutiny, the Golden Rule is not quite what it is advertised to be. First, although “do unto others…” is serviceable enough in the early stages of a child’s socialization, and even a moderately good rule of thumb for common daily social interactions, its application is nothing like as general as is assumed. Consider one huge domain of human action, namely defensive war. Soldiers do kill their enemies while earnestly desiring that their enemies not kill them. And this is regarded as the right thing for a soldier to do, though it contravenes the Golden Rule. Unfortunately, if a soldier does unto his enemies as he would be done by, he stands to be done in.

More generally, in policing and maintaining the peace, “do unto others” applies only problematically, and usually not literally. As a police officer, I might put a child kidnapper in a headlock without at all wishing he put me in a headlock. Likewise, jurors might feel obliged to send the accused to prison without wanting themselves to be sent to prison, even had they been similarly guilty, and so on and on.

Well, one might respond, the Golden Rule is obviously not meant to apply to those situations. Fine, but its claim to be universally applicable is therefore compromised, and in any case, the exception-to-the-rule problem arises again: if there are rules “all the way down,” what more basic rule do we invoke in saying the Golden Rule does not apply? To what are we appealing when we claim a fairly obvious and morally acceptable exception? Perhaps, a deeper, more Golden Ur-Rule—the Platinum Rule? What would that be ? As remarked earlier, knowing what is “obvious” here depends, exactly as Aristotle thought, on background common sense and moral judgement. That, however, is not a capacity that consults a set of rules to tell us when an exception is an allowable exception to the Golden Rule. Most people recognize an obvious exception when given a case, but there’s no evidence that they achieve this recognition by application of a deeper rule.

So the basic answer concerning the Golden Rule as the unconditional, universally applicable rule to guide what we ought to do is quite simple. It is not unconditionally and universally applicable. In many cases, such as the Memorial Hospital tragedy, the Golden Rule just does not get us very far. Worse, in cases where the do-gooder is a besotted ideologue, his application of the Golden Rule may give him precisely the justification he wants for doing what others regard as absolutely heinous things, such as engaging in genocide with the best will in the world.

Churchland, Patricia Smith. Braintrust: What Neuroscience Tells Us About Morality, p. 168-169, 173. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2011. Print.

Churchland’s remarks are in line with the criticisms of other philosophers. The Golden Rule is a rudimentary iteration of egoism. Aside from giving an ideologue justification, it also leaves one open to being taken advantage of. More importantly, the Golden Rule fails on a number of practical fronts. As Churchland states, it isn’t universally applicable and it falls short of being a reliable guide in the social and ethical spheres. Let us review this failure in more detail.

Given that Jesus and the father are one, I related the Golden Rule to the Moral Argument. If moral values and duties hinge on god’s existence and Jesus is god, then the basis of these moral values and duties would be the Golden Rule: “whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them” (Matthew 7:12). Yet there’s a problem in that the Golden Rule is a rudimentary iteration of egoism: what I find beneficial or harmful dictates my moral decisions. This is analogous to the Golden Rule.

That leads to some questions, however: how do I know that what I find satisfactory will be considered such by others? How can I know that what works for me will work for others? To simply assume that would be fallacious, namely the subjectivist fallacy: what works for me works for others. Yet this is precisely what the Golden Rule calls for. Unfortunately, the Golden Rule doesn’t ask us to account for personal or cultural differences. In Hispanic cultures, we expect full hospitality when we’re guests in your home. Specifically, if you’re a close friend or family member, and you’ve invited us over, we expect to be fed. We expect a seat at your dinner table and some of your home cooked dinner. Other cultures don’t always expect this of their friends and families. Living in an urban populace has acquainted me with that fact firsthand.

There is, however, a glaring issue with the Golden Rule. Jesus, god incarnate, has made you the moral arbiter. Whatever you wish people do to you, do also to them; he stated that “this is the Law and the Prophets.” Not only are you assuming that because something works for you, it will work for others, but you now have final say on what’s right or wrong. God no longer makes that decision, so his commands are arbitrary. If the Golden Rule is the basis of the Moral Argument, then the Moral Argument is self-contradictory. Either morality is contingent on god or it is up to us to decide what’s right and what’s wrong. It can’t be both. Yet god gave you the keys to the moral kingdom.

In ethicist fashion, the Golden Rule is utterly inapplicable. If applied to business, it simply wouldn’t work. Again, the Golden Rule doesn’t account for personal and cultural differences. Businesses have failed to succeed in other countries because they assumed that what works for their population will work for other populations. In other words, if Americans like sweet soft drinks, the Chinese will also. If I were to be CEO of an airline, and I were to reason that because I find coach satisfactory, none of my planes should have first class seating, my airline would certainly fail. In business, I cannot treat others as I wish to be treated.

In medicine this doesn’t work either. When removing my wisdom teeth, I chose nitrous oxide over anesthetic injection. If I were a doctor, on the basis of the Golden Rule, since I wish for doctors to use nitrous oxide during my surgeries then I’ll give nitrous to all of my patients. Where is their autonomy? Where is their choice? Where is their right to decide how they want to go about this? The Golden Rule cannot apply to medicine.

It doesn’t apply to education. If I were to become a professor that teaches students based on how I like to be taught, I will actually harm some of my students. What works for me doesn’t work for everyone. Just because I wish for my professors to be (preferably) passionate about their fields, enthusiastic when they speak, and do their best to teach using visuals doesn’t mean that I should become a professor who teaches using mostly visuals. Some students may even be put off if I’m too enthusiastic though, in general, that doesn’t pose an issue. What does pose an issue is the assumption that everyone learns equally.

Ultimately, the Golden Rule, Jesus’ and therefore god’s basis of morality, is inapplicable to our everyday lives. If applied in the fields discussed and certainly others not discussed, the results would be disastrous. It’s also fallacious since it falls victim to subjectivist fallacy. What works for me does not work for everyone else. Aside from this, it is a primitive iteration of egoism, which is generally considered a failed ethical system. As stated earlier, we often act without thinking about our own happiness or benefit. We often act selflessly rather than on the basis of self-interest. Moving outside of the Golden Rule, it fails to account for personal preferences and cultural differences. It fails to account for a person’s autonomy: this is how you want to be treated, so this is how I’ll treat you. Does a person not have a choice in how they want to be treated?

Given this, the notion that the Golden Rule is a principle of empathy is wrong. I think empathy is fully achieved when you have developed the ability to attend to someone else whilst knowing what a given circumstance means to them and on the basis of this, treat them in accordance with or even via their perspective. This sort of empathy is perfectly in keeping with Neo-Kantian ethics. In treating you this way, I honor your autonomy. I’m not, for instance, lecturing you on how the death of a loved one gets easier over time because that’s what worked for me. I listen, I inquire, and then I do what I think you find most meaningful. You may not want a spiel on how it gets easier and the cliche “time heals all wounds”; you may instead prefer a hug, a shoulder to cry on, and an ear that will listen to the memories you have of this loved one. And that’s what I’ll offer you. I will not offer you what works for me because I recognize that we’re different people that are perhaps from different cultures; we have different preferences, had different upbringings, and ultimately, have different brains. We simply work differently and the Golden Rule fails to account for that. So if the Golden Rule is god’s basis for moral values and duties–and given that Jesus is god, I see no reason to think otherwise–he can keep his values. We have advanced far beyond his failed ethical view. For us atheists, there’s no wonder as to why that’s the case.

The Moral Algorithm

By R.N. Carmona

There are two ways in which morality can be viewed as an algorithm. One way is individualistic, which will be briefly discussed. The other way is pluralistic. Prior to moving forward, it will be useful to define what an algorithm is. It is a set of rules that defines a series of operations such that each rule is definite and effective and such that the series ends in a finite span of time.1 From an individualistic view, some knowledge of the philosophy of mind is necessary–in particular, a knowledge of Computational Theory of Mind (CTM).

Hilary Putman was the first to propose CTM–which is the view that likens the mind to a computer.2 Since its inception, CTM has been developed further. A notable contribution, for example, is Guilio Tononi’s Integrated Information Theory of Consciousness.3 If one assumes that CTM is correct, then the mind is computational. If the mind is computational, there might exist a number of algorithms within the mind. The moral algorithm would be among these algorithms. An interesting feature of morality is that the moral agent doesn’t think about moral action. The algorithm develops along with an individual’s theory of mind and as it develops, it learns to put out the correct solutions with increasing accuracy. This is because the algorithm starts off at an initial state in where it’s first input is received. This roughly correlates with parents teaching children right from wrong and instilling their cultural values into them. Harold Stone stated that “for people to follow the rules of an algorithm, the rules must be formulated so that they can be followed in a robot-like manner, that is, without the need for thought.”4 Therefore, an individualistic moral algorithm would be one built for automated reasoning, which roughly aligns with how humans reason when concerning morality. Far from the careful exercise of deduction or mathematical abduction, moral behavior does appear automated. It appears intuitive if not impulsive. Whether or not the mind aligns with CTM Is an open question. Assuming that’s the case, whether or not morality is an algorithm in the mind is another open question. Therefore, it is better to approach the idea of a moral algorithm from a pluralistic angle.

Algorithms, for one, are given instructions–an initial input. If applied to an individual, then this works just as well for a group. Without intending to endorse normative relativism5, it is interesting that cultures differ from one another in their moral values. Though they differ, however, a moral algorithm, assuming it is given sufficient distribution (D), it will eventually sift out moral values that aren’t conducive to the good of the individual or the group. With that said, if the moral algorithm is viewed as an instance of crowdsourcing, as pluralistic, then it will be self-improving. A good example of a self-improving algorithm is the one belonging to Google’s search engine.6 An advantage of crowdsourcing is that it rules out the idiosyncrasies of certain individuals and groups.7 Marcus, a character in Rebecca Goldstein’s Plato at the Googleplex: Why Philosophy Won’t Go Away, states the following:

There’s some ideal algorithm for working it out, for assigning weights to different opinions. Maybe we should give more weight to people who have lived lives that they find gratifying and that others find admirable. And, of course, for this to work the crowd has to be huge; it has to contain all these disparate vantage points, everybody who’s starting from their own chained-up position in the cave [Plato’s cave analogy8]. It has to contain, in principle, everybody. I mean, if you’re including just men, or just landowners, or just people above a certain IQ, then the results aren’t going to be robust.9

The crowd this algorithm can draw from consists of over seven billion individuals and thousands of groups–cultural, religious, ethnic, etc. In theory, the algorithm has significant D stemming from billions of individual agents and thousands of groups. Furthermore, it won’t face the issue of unknown since the contents of morality are generally understood. That is to say that even a run-of-the-mill psychopath understands right from wrong though he chooses not to adhere to moral norms. Given that it has substantial D, it’s running time has already been optimized. The next step is machine learning nature, which is pivotal to self-improvement.10 Also, the algorithm can use extraneous information to improve performance. Thus, the moral algorithm can use information gathered from a group like the Nazis to improve performance. This would be a perfect example of unacceptable behavior. Unlike Goldstein’s EASE (Ethical Answers Search Engine), which like the individualistic moral algorithm, is one built for automated reasoning, the pluralistic moral algorithm would be one built for data processing. Like Google’s search engine, it will use data to self-improve.

The notion of a pluralistic moral algorithm and consequently, an individualistic moral algorithm can be related to procedural realism. Procedural realism states that “there are answers to moral questions because there are correct procedures for arriving at them.”11 Korsgaard adds that because people are rational agents, they have an ideal person they want to become and they thus guide their actions accordingly. What’s most important on her view is that moral agents self-legislate.12 Self-legislation aligns perfectly with the notion of both an individualistic and a pluralistic moral algorithm. It also aligns perfectly with Kant’s autonomy formulation of his categorical imperative which states that one should act in such a way that one’s will can regard itself at the same time as making universal laws through its maxims.13 Arguably, something much simpler than Kant’s formulation can be at play when speaking of autonomy and self-legislation. However, Kant’s formulation of the Kingdom of Ends takes us from individualistic to pluralistic because the formulation states that one should act as if one were through one’s maxims a law-making member of a kingdom of ends.14 Morality, as a self-correcting algorithm, will, like Goldstein stated, cancel out the peculiar views some individuals hold. Thus, an agent can’t will an immoral law–let alone an immoral universal law. Self-governance, like knowledge, would be subsumed by crowdsourcing–thus becoming the self-government of the people rather than just this or that individual. This is Kant’s Kingdom of Ends.

Ultimately, though morality can be considered an individualistic algorithm, it is best to view it as a pluralistic algorithm. In other words, it isn’t agent-specific but rather species-specific. Compelling arguments can be made defending an individualistic moral algorithm, especially in light of CMT. However, even if CMT isn’t the case, given how people have crowdsourced knowledge and given that humanity can be viewed as something akin to a computer network that allows for the sharing of data among individuals, a pluralistic moral algorithm could be the case even if an individualistic moral algorithm is not. That is to say that a pluralistic moral algorithm doesn’t require an individualistic algorithm to emerge. A pluralistic moral algorithm can easily explain moral universals; furthermore, it can explain the common discomfort one feels when being exposed to moral values that differ drastically from one’s own. In other words, disapproval and approval can be explained from the lens of a pluralistic moral algorithm. From that, it need not follow that there is a pluralistic moral algorithm, which processes moral data so to speak. Nevertheless, morality does appear to have an inherent feature of self-improvement, which could arise from agent-specific autonomy, individual self-legislation, and the self-legislation of the general population. This idea can also transfer to law, which also features self-improvement (e.g. Constitutional amendments).

Works Cited

1 Harold S. Stone. Introduction to Computer Organization and Data Structures, 1972, McGraw-Hill, New York. Cf in particular the first chapter titled: Algorithms, Turing Machines, and Programs.

“The Computational Theory of Mind.” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. 1 Jul 2003

3 Tononi Guilio. “Integrated Information Theory of Consciousness: An Updated Account.” Archives Italiennes de Biologie, 150: 290-326, 2012 

4 Ibid. [1]

5 Pecorino Philip. “Chapter 8 Ethics: Normative Ethical Relativism.” Queensborough Community College. 2000

6 Goldstein, Rebecca. Plato at the Googleplex: Why Philosophy won’t Go Away, p.105. New York: Pantheon Books, 2014. Print.

7 Ibid. [6] (p.102)

8 Cohen, Marc. “The Allegory of the Cave.” University of Washington. 2006

9 Ibid. [6]

10 Ailon Nir, et. al. “Self-Improving Algorithms.” SIAM Journal on Computing (SICOMP), 40(2),pp. 350-375. 2011

11 Korsgaard, Christine M., and Onora Neill.The Sources of Normativity, p.36-37. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. Print.

12 Ibid. [11]

13 Pecorino Philip. “Chapter 8 Ethics: The Categorical Imperative.” Queensborough Community College. 2000

14 Ibid. [13]

The Problem of Evil: A Refutation of Plantinga’s Theodicy

By R.N. Carmona

Alvin Plantinga, a renowned reformed philosopher and theologian, likely has more than the two theodicies discussed here. These two theodicies, however, are a common route for theists to take. The first defense is no doubt familiar to the reader: the Free Will defense. The second defense is also familiar, but is less relied upon: this defense, for our purposes, will be called the Ignorance defense.

Plantinga’s Free Will defense fails for two reasons, but prior to demonstrating this, a fair treatment of his defense must be granted. So we will first look at what his defense is. HIs defense relies on two assumptions. He also has a set of possible worlds, one of which we’ll consider. HIs first assumption is as follows:

(MSR1) God’s creation of persons with morally significant free will is something of tremendous value. God could not eliminate much of the evil and suffering in this world without thereby eliminating the greater good of having created persons with free will with whom he could have relationships and who are able to love one another and do good deeds.1

MSR1, on the surface, makes sense. It’s plausible that this is the reason the Judeo-Christian god allows evil. MSR1, however, is based on a problematic version of free will, namely Libertarian free will. Libertarianism can be defined as the “view that seeks to protect the reality of human ‘free will by supposing that a free choice is not causally determined but not random either.’”2 As commentary, Blackburn states, that “[w]hat is needed is the conception of a rational, responsible intervention in the ongoing course of events”. He adds that “[i]n some developments a special category of agent-causation is posited, but its relationship with the neurophysiological working of the brain and body, or indeed any moderately naturalistic view of ourselves, tends to be very uneasy, and it is frequently derided as the desire to protect the fantasy of an agency situated outside the realm of nature altogether.”3 This statement implies Cartesian dualism, which is too tangential for our purposes. Whether or not Cartesian dualism helps the case for Libertarian free will, or whether or not it is necessary to make sense of such free will shouldn’t occupy us here.

Libertarian free will is itself questionable. Michael Tooley with the University of Colorado writes:

One problem with an appeal to libertarian free will is that no satisfactory account of the concept of libertarian free will is yet available. Thus, while the requirement that, in order to be free in the libertarian sense, an action not have any cause that lies outside the agent is unproblematic, this is obviously not a sufficient condition, since this condition would be satisfied if the behavior in question was caused by random events within the agent. So one needs to add that the agent is, in some sense, the cause of the action. But how is the causation in question to be understood? Present accounts of the metaphysics of causation typically treat causes as states of affairs. If, however, one adopts such an approach, then it seems that all that one has when an action is freely done, in the libertarian sense, is that there is some uncaused mental state of the agent that causally gives rise to the relevant behavior, and why freedom, thus understood, should be thought valuable, is far from clear.4

He adds that the Libertarian can make a switch from event-causation to agent-causation, but there’s no cogent account for agent-causation either. This harkens back to Blackburn’s sentiments.

Plantinga discusses four possible worlds, the third of which is the most important, which is W1. It looks as follows:

(a) God creates persons with morally significant free will

(b) God does not causally determine people in every situation to choose what is right and to avoid what is wrong and

© There is evil and suffering in W1.5

If god exists, this is precisely the kind of world we seem to live in. Plantinga’s defense is that god couldn’t eliminate evil without infringing upon our choices and by extension, what good might come of them. Plantinga, in this vein, states:

A world containing creatures who are sometimes significantly free (and freely perform more good than evil actions) is more valuable, all else being equal, than a world containing no free creatures at all. Now God can create free creatures, but he cannot cause or determine them to do only what is right. For if he does so, then they are not significantly free after all; they do not do what is right freely. To create creatures capable of moral good, therefore, he must create creatures capable of moral evil; and he cannot leave these creatures free to perform evil and at the same time prevent them from doing so…. The fact that these free creatures sometimes go wrong, however, counts neither against God’s omnipotence nor against his goodness; for he could have forestalled the occurrence of moral evil only by excising the possibility of moral good. (Plantinga 1974, pp. 166-167)6

That a world where humans have Libertarian free will is more valuable than one without that is dubious. Plantinga can’t purport to know what such a world would look like. Furthermore, if we are to take predestination seriously, verses like Psalm 139:16 have to be squared with Plantinga’s account of free will. The context of that verse seems to imply we don’t have free will. There is, if that verse and another which will be discussed shortly are to be believed, a celestial determinism if you will. Consider, for example, Exodus 9:12. There is no sense in which Pharaoh was free to listen. His heart was hardened by god; god, in other words, violates stipulation (b) in W1.

So it appears, on the theist’s view, that we live in a world that resembles W1, but differs in a significant way. God sometimes causally determines our moral decisions. Given Libertarian free will and predestination, which was briefly discussed here, Plantinga’s Free Will defense is inadequate.

Another reason it fails is because it focuses on human-driven evil and not natural evil. To cover this base, Plantinga deploys MSR2, which states that “God allowed natural evil to enter the world as part of Adam and Eve’s punishment for their sin in the Garden of Eden.”7 This is textually, historically, and even scientifically dubious. This too is also too tangential for our purposes. Suffice it to say that here Plantinga presupposes Christian theology to defend Christianity. MSR2 is, at best, unsubstantiated and at worst, false. The burden of proof is then on Plantinga to demonstrate that Genesis 3 is a factual, historical account. It isn’t enough to believe that it happened or to assert that it best explains human nature. These predilections are rooted in the very theology Plantinga is attempting to defend. These statements simply beg the question.

We will now turn to Plantinga’s Ignorance defense. We will note here that he himself doesn’t call it the Ignorance defense. We will call it that given the fact that it relies on our ignorance to work. In other words, the defense states that since our wisdom is incomparable to god’s, we can’t know why he allows evil. Moreover, since it’s reasonable that he has some reason—no doubt unknown to us—for allowing evil, we can’t reasonably blame god for the evil in the world. Let us turn to some of Plantinga’s explications. Kai Nielsen states:

Plantinga grants that, as far as we can see, there are many cases of evil that are apparently pointless. Indeed there are many cases of such evils where we have no idea at all what reason God (if there is such a person) could have for permitting such evils. But, Plantinga remarks, from granting these things it does not follow that “an omnipotent and omniscient God, if he existed, would not have a reason for permitting them” (Plantinga 1993, 400). From the fact that we can see no reason at all for God to permit evils, we cannot legitimately infer that God has no reason to allow such evils. It is not just, Plantinga continues, “obvious or apparent that God could have reason for permitting them. The most we can sensibly say is that we can’t think of any good reason why he would permit them” (Plantinga 1993, 400).8

This, in a nutshell, is the Ignorance defense. We are, in other words, ignorant of god’s will and our wisdom pales in comparison to his. Nielsen, however, has the makings of a perfect counter. All that’s needed is to see his counter from the point of view of one of god’s attributes. Nielsen states that “it looks more like, if he exists and is all powerful and all knowing, that then he more likely to be evil.” He adds that “we see that all the same he might possibly be, as Jewish, Christian, and Islamic religions say he is, perfectly good. But we cannot see that he is. The Mosaic God looks, to understate it, petty, unjust, and cruel to us.”9 This counter is made perfect if we see this from the point of view of god’s omniscience. God would know that we would be unable to see that he is good in light of natural evil. This evil is, in fact, gratuitous. God would have seen, in his omniscience, that the quantity of natural evil in the world would be enough to drive so many to doubt. This apart from contradictory revelations, the limited range and capacity of Christianity, i.e., it’s capacity to appeal to people of other cultures, and the negative evidence against the existence of the Judeo-Christian god. We are then asked “to stick with a belief in what we see to be some kind of possibility, namely that God is, after all, appearances to the contrary notwithstanding, perfectly good.”10 Like Nielsen, however, I see this as an obstinate appeal to the very faith that needs to be substantiated. Furthermore, I see this as an implied superiority of faith over reason. Like Galileo, who no doubt said this with a different sentiment, I “do not feel obliged to believe that same God who endowed us with sense, reason, and intellect had intended for us to forgo their use.” There are other reasons showing that reason is superior to faith, especially since the former is the agreed upon approach in all aspects of life except religion. Nielsen discusses this at length, but that’s not exactly germane to this discussion.

Though we’ve called it the Ignorance defense, Plantinga does argue that we can be privy to god’s reasons for allowing evil (Plantinga 1993, 400-401). This, unfortunately, relies on revelation and is thus, dubious. No amount of revelation can make one privy to all instances of evil in the world—both human-driven and natural. God, for example, isn’t keen on revealing to believers why a forest fire leads to the suffering and deaths of the animals in that ecosystem. This, in fact, seems to be of little concern given putative revelations in the Abrahamic faiths. God, given, for instance, the Book of Job, seems intent on justifying the existence of and need for human-driven evil. Plantinga employs the Book of Job in his defense. This, like the previous defense, is problematic. Given history and textual criticism, the Book of Job is mired with problems. We would, again, have to lean on an obstinate faith to consider it a good supplement to any theodicy or to see it as a theodicy all its own.

The Problem of Evil, especially when adding the element of gratuitous evil, remains an outstanding problem for theism. There is no cogent theodicy or defense against it, Plantinga notwithstanding. The Free Will and Ignorance defenses fail for a number reason—most prominent of which being the groundless presuppositions underlying the arguments. This is to say nothing of the Leibnizian best possible world and defenses in that vein. Theodicies warrant fuller treatment and this has indeed been done. What we have, unfortunately, is one party who refuses to read what the opposition has to say. This is why some plainly and no doubt, hyperbolically, assert that solutions have been offered for centuries. These purported solutions have also been scrutinized as has been briefly sketched out here. The Problem of Evil can be likened to a hemophiliac’s wound. Theodicies notwithstanding, theists haven’t stopped the bleeding.

Works Cited

1 Beebe, James R. “Logical Problem of Evil”. Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy. ND. Web. 3 Jan 2015.

2 Blackburn, Simon. The Oxford Dictionary of Philosophy. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1994. 208-209. Print.

3 Ibid. [2]

4 Tooley, Michael. “The Problem of Evil”. Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. 2012. Web. 3 Jan 2015.

5 Ibid. [1]

6 Plantinga, Alvin as quoted in Ibid. [1]

7 Ibid. [1]

8 Nielsen, Kai. Naturalism and Religion. Amherst, N.Y.: Prometheus, 2001. 303-304. Print.

9 Ibid. [8], p.308

10 Ibid. [9]