A few days ago I published my thoughts on the end of The Good Place. The Gospel Coalition recently published their own article on it, and it seems like great minds think alike! Their article echoes some of my thoughts, and is also worth reading.
Warning: there will be spoilers for the entire series in this post. If you are planning on watching it (and you should), you should not read this. Save it and read it later 😉
It Is Over
Over the last few years I have come to love this show. I have loved that it takes ethics seriously, that it takes the afterlife as a concept seriously (though also exploits it for some good comedy), that it takes people’s mistakes and evils seriously. I won’t repeat everything that was said over at The Gospel Coalition a couple of years ago, but suffice it to say, this show is worth watching.
I do however want to highlight two ideas that appeared in the last season. These are the nature of a fundamental dualism, and the nature of a good afterlife.
What I am calling fundamental dualism here is the idea that the fundamental nature of the universe is actually two fundamental forces, one of good and one of evil. In The Good Place, these are the good place architects and the bad place architects. While the show is somewhat inconsistent here (occasionally portraying the bad place architects as actually doing good by torturing evil people, saying “Humans are evil, they deserve it”. The show portrays this attitude as being right, and it is), the general idea is that the good place architects, a handful of humans, and eventually Micheal are forces for good, and the bad place architects are forces for evil.
The problem is that this view is impossible. C.S. Lewis famously criticises this idea, and I want to highlight some problems that exist in the show as a result of holding this impossible idea.
Consider this: True bad place torturers have to be good for justice. It’s unjust when evil people torment evil people because they enjoy it. It is only justice when the evil suffer at the hands of a just judge, who is attempting to do good.
I think the bad place architects are actually better than the good place architects. The good place architects are weak, passive, uncreative cowards. None of that is good! Say what you want about Shawn, but at least he’s actually trying to do things. He has some ambition, and is often intelligent and driven enough to accomplish it. The “good” architects lack this. Shawn has some good in him apparently, the good place architects don’t seem to. If Shawn were truly fully evil, he’d be passive and lazy and incompetent. Instead, passivity and laziness and incompetence are marks of the good place architects. They are not good. They are just a different kind of evil.
It’s not an easy choice between hell and heaven in their world. Sure, butthole spiders and penis flatteners do not sound like fun. But neither does an endless zombie existence where all pleasure turns to ash in my mouth. My intuition is that a Dostoyevsky in the bad place becomes a deeper and more profound soul. Not that his suffering is good, but at least he can keep who he is! Hypatia in the good place loses that, and so did all the others.
Why does this problem exist? Because there’s a fundamental flaw in having equal and opposing good and evil forces. That problem is that a fully and fundamentally evil force has nothing good in it. Nothing good. Including things like cunning, intelligence, ambition, drive, courage, or even existence. Existence itself is a good, and so if there is a fully evil fundamental force, it ends up being self defeating. This force can never be an enemy!
No, the foundation force must be good, because it must be the most existent thing, and existence is good. It must be Existence Itself. It must be God. The Good Place shows us the incoherence of this dualism. Even Satan, the most evil thing, is a good thing twisted to evil, and is not a fundamental being but a derivative being. That’s how it must be.
The dualism in the show is self-awaredly silly, and has to be silly because it is actually incoherent. If it were not presented as silly, and if we thought about the metaphysics presented a bit more carefully, we’d start to see the holes in it.
A Good Afterlife
In the last two episodes, our heroes encounter something horrific: the millennia that the good humans have spent in the good place have ruined them. They’ve become mindless zombies, numb to all pleasure, incapable of all deep thought, robbed of all ambition or drive.
It’s easy to see why this happens. With no struggle and nothing to strive towards, they become lazy and complacent. With every possible desire immediately fulfilled, they’ve lost the ability to even have deep desires!
The solution in the show is to reintroduce death. Death, apparently, gives life meaning. Things only matter if eventually you will permanently stop existing. By creating the door and creating a potential end for each person, they have given back purpose to the people in the good place.
This is the current secular zeitgeist. Paradise is nothing more than wish fulfillment: getting whatever you want as soon as you want it. The ultimate good, according to the modern secular worldview, is having your will fulfilled. Everything comes back to the autonomous human will as the source of everything. Only what you want matters, only what you will for yourself matters for who you ought to be and what you ought to be given.
This is what Eastern Orthodox theologian David Bentley Hart talks about in his book Atheist Delusions, in the chapter The Age of Freedom:
There is no substantial criterion by which to judge our choices that stands higher than the unquestioned good of free choice itself
The will, we habitually assume, is sovereign to the degree that it is obedient to nothing else and is free to the degree that it is truly spontaneous and constrained by nothing greater than itself. This, for many of us, is the higest good imaginable. And a society guided by such beliefs must, at least implicitly, embrace and subtly advocate a very particular “moral metaphysics”: that is, the nonexistence of any transcendent standard of the good that has the power (or the right) to order our desires toward a higher end.
For us, it is the choice itself, and not what we choose, that is the first good
What Hart has seen is the idolatry of the autonomous will and the free choice above all else. And that is the good place! They just get whatever they want whenever they want it. That’s how the world sees a good afterlife! Eternal wish fulfilment.
The problem is that eternal wish fulfilment, when there is no normative force on what we wish, is not going to actually be eternally fulfilling. Our heroes, after however many thousands of years of the good place, end up running out of things to satisfy their wills. Nothing more to choose. And out of things to choose, they have nothing left to fulfil them, and they leave. And why shouldn’t they? In this universe, they have exhausted all the goods. Finitely many goods for an infinite time do not satisfy, and so they cut their time short.
But in the real world, this is not the case. There is a normative force on the will, and if John Piper and the Christian Hedonists are to be believed (and they are), God’s end goal is for us to desire Him. Those who have attained eternal life by the blood of Christ will not have go-kart racing with monkeys as their highest desire (because how could that ever eternally satisfy?), they will have God as their highest desire. Finite goods couldn’t fulfil our heroes for eternity, but God, the infinite good, could! The Good Place, both the show and the location in the show, are missing God. They are missing the highest good. But heaven without God would not be good, and it would turn us all into lifeless zombies like Hypatia.
The Good Show
I am glad I watched The Good Place. It has prompted these thoughts, and many more. I have thought very deeply while watching it, more than any other Netflix show. I would love to see more like it.
…contemporary Christians cannot be at home in almost in any period of church history. If a present-day Christian attempts to read the work of almost any Christian leader from before the 19th century, he is likely to be shocked by the leader’s supposed rudeness and ‘unchristlikeness.’ For example, in an article on Athanasius—one of the most formative leaders in Christian history—a Gospel Coalition writer observed that modern Christian readers are likely to ‘sniff at his angry style of writing.’ In a preface to a translation of Luther—by two Lutheran academics—the translators remarked that ‘Luther was a person of his time, and his language expresses the roughness of the age.’
Of course, it is only people in the past whose choices are explained away by their social context. Nobody reads a Christianity Today editorial and says that, after all, the author ‘is a person of his time, and his language expresses the gentility of the age.’ Instead, it is 21st-century, middle class evangelicals who are implicitly assumed to have finally gotten christlikeness right after all these years.
- How Your View of God May Be Secular
- Masculinity and Marvel movies
- Dear Izzy: If your wife had been heavily pregnant, and you layed your boot into her stomach while she lay on the floor cowering in the foetal position, you would not be banned. If you had picked up your ex-girlfriend and hurled her into a garage door at 2am following an epic bender, you’d still be on track for your job. If you had only kicked the livin’ daylights out of an unconscious man lying in the gutter, outside a nightclub, you could have avoided this heartache you’re now in. But no, Izzy. You had to go all the way and do something so much worse than these acceptable misbehaviours: you shared the Bible’s message on your own social media page. Now that is unacceptable.
- Why young men are leaving evangelicalism
- Socratic Dialogue on Postmodernism
- … one of liberalism’s greatest successes was to domesticate Christianity, very cleverly, to make it safe for liberal politics. Instead of violently confronting Christian believers, or co-opting Christian figures (tactics that had been tried throughout history by Roman emperors, medieval kings, Enlightenment democrats, and countless others), liberalism colonized Christianity itself.
Context and Background
Long ago there was once an argument called the logical problem of evil, and it was defeated. It has a quite simple form:
- If God exists, then there does not exist any evil
- There exists some evil
- God does not exist
These days, even the most ardent sceptical philosophers do not defend the logical problem of evil. To poorly summarize centuries of fairly technical dialectic, the theist rejects 1 by saying that God is justified in permitting evil if God uses that evil to bring about some greater good that depends on the existence of the evil. This seems pretty plausible, and so most atheists do not try to put forward 1 any longer.
But this doesn’t bother many of them, because they attempt to put forward an evidential formulation of the argument. Here is what modern evidential problem of evil arguments looks like:
- If God exists, then there are no evils which do not bring about some greater good
- There exist some evils for which we cannot see any corresponding greater goods
- For some of these evils, if such a corresponding good did exist, we would see it
- Therefore there exist evils which do not bring about some greater good
- Therefore God does not exist
This argument is valid, and the first premise is pretty plausible. So the theist must proceed by attacking or undermining premises 2 or 3. In general, an attack on premise 2 is a theodicy, and an attack on premise 3 is called skeptical theism.
I think theodicies are too heavy a burden for us to bear, at least given an evidential argument like the one above. In this case, the Christian has to give a sufficient reason for the existence of every evil that exists. We have to explain specifically how a child with a painful terminal cancer produces some higher-order good. I do not think that we can do that, and I think attempts to do so often end up being grotesque.
I think the wiser route, and the more biblical route, is to question premise 3. That is, argue that we are not in a position to see such reasons if they do exist, so the inference from “we do not see them” to “they do not exist” is not justified. As Josh Rasmussen helpfully puts it, we can make two observations here. We can either 1) fail to see a reason why God would allow it, or 2) see that God would have no reason to allow it. And are we in a position to differentiate between 1 and 2? The atheist has to put forward an argument that we are in situation 2. But instead of just sitting and waiting to hear that argument, I think we can do better.
What I aim to do here is to put forward some reasons that the theist has for thinking that we are in case 1 rather than case 2. If we have such reasons, this will undermine the atheist’s claim that we are in case 2.
Let’s introduce some terminology that will make our life a bit easier. We will call an evil Gratuitous (G) if it is an evil for which there is no resulting greater good that justifies the existence of that evil. We will call an evil a Horror (H) if we cannot find such a justifying reason. A G evil is the kind of evil that would be incompatible with the existence of God, and the evidential argument for evil is essentially a move from H to G, and from G to the nonexistence of God.
Epistemology and Skeptical Theism
We can develop some reasons to put forward the skeptical theist position from a consideration of some very plausible principles in epistemology. The main example of such a principle is something called CORNEA, put forward by Wykstra and Perrine.
On the basis of cognized situation s, human H is entitled to claim ‘It appears that p’ only if it is reasonable for H to believe that, given her cognitive faculties and the use she has made of them, if p were not the case, s would likely be different than it is in some way discernible by her.
CORNEA is a powerful principle which, if true, would undermine many conceptions of the problem of evil. Even “commonsense” problems of evil such as this one. I think it is more intuitively phrased in Bayesian terms, and is better understood as simply a restatement of what Bayesian evidence is. That is:
Observation E is evidence of some proposition H if P(E|H) > P(E| ¬H)
To get a better intuitive handle on this, let’s consider a real-world example. Suppose I get home and notice that my grass is wet, and I form two competing hypotheses as to why:
- My wife watered the grass
- It rained
Now suppose that I know that if it rained, the grass is always wet, but that if my wife waters it, she does a bad job, so it only gets wet 50% of the time. Knowing these things, my conclusion should be that the grass being wet is evidence of rain. Because the rain hypothesis does a better job at explaining the observation, the observation is evidence of the rain hypothesis.
If Bayesian reasoning is new to you, I suggest spending some time learning about it. It’s very useful. The point here is that if some observation is equally likely given two competing hypotheses (or we are unable to calculate either of those likelihoods), then that observation can’t be evidence one way or the other.
The point of this kind of idea is this: if both theism and atheism predict H with a similar degree of confidence, then H simply can’t be evidence either way. Being generous to the atheist and granting that atheism does predict H, the atheist now has to argue that theism does not predict H. And while we could wait for the atheist to make such arguments and then respond to them, I think it is also worthwhile putting forward some positive arguments for the claim that theism predicts H with some high degree of certainty.
One such argument, given by Howard-Snyder, is the Progress Argument. I will rephrase it here:
- Many moral truths which we now take to be obvious were not considered true in the past
- Therefore there are many moral truths of which we are now ignorant
- Some of these may include justifications for the H evils that God ordained in the world
- Therefore we are not justified in inferring that there do not exist any goods which can justify the H evils in the world
This is an inductive argument, and it is hard to deny the force of it. Surely there are some people who will say that we have plateaued, and have discovered a very large portion of the moral truths that exist, and so our inference is justified. But I think these people are probably wrong: society continues to “discover” new moral truths with increasing rapidity. Even if I do not agree with all of these changes, most people who put forward this argument are probably people who will believe that recent changes in the moral zeitgeist concerning homosexuality and transgenderism are improvements. But those improvements have come about in the last 20 years or so. I think it’s exceedingly foolish to say that no further “improvements” or “discoveries” will come, or at least none significant enough to make us a bit more humble about our own moral knowledge.
To improve the strength of this argument, Howard-Snyder puts forward a supporting argument. Quoting directly from the SEP:
This argument begins by recalling that the data from which the strongest arguments from evil start are the profusion or seeming excess of evil in the world which, indeed, seems to be integrated into the fabric of nature and society. But for that very reason (their complexity and intricacy), any complex good whole of which these evils are a part would have to be exceedingly complex. Thus, he infers that it would not be surprising if it were beyond our ability to fathom.
These are some good starting points to consider a positive case for skeptical theism purely from secular epistemology and plain reason. However, the theist has more tools in their box than just this, and by considering some facts about the nature of God (and the particular nature of the Christian God), we can put forward an even stronger case.
Human Experience and Skeptical Theism
An interesting argument that I do not see discussed often is the argument from the theism of suffering people. It seems like the only people who really endorse the problem of evil, who really make the inference “there is no justification for this suffering”, are the people in the world who suffer the least. That is, the educated westerners. We live like kings, having all of our basic needs easily met and having the leisure time to pursue whatever we choose, including getting into arguments with strangers on the internet. We have the easiest lives anyone has ever had. And yet we are the only ones who really have any atheists among us.
On the other hand, the global poor, the suffering, the hurting, etc. are far more religious. They do not think that they can responsibly make the inference from suffering to the nonexistence of God. Presumably, at least some of them have considered the option and rejected it. Presumably, some of them are intelligent and clear-headed enough to be epistemically responsible in rejecting it.
Why this difference? I speculate that it is because us educated westerners have become so accustomed to the very mild suffering that most of us go through that any worse suffering has become unimaginable, and therefore we say that God would not allow it. But the people going through the suffering often don’t think that way. Maybe the educated westerner has underestimated man’s capacity to handle suffering due to our pampered position.
Some of the people who have experienced the worst horrors have remained theists, and indeed Christians, and have often said afterwards that they can see now what God was doing in them through the suffering and evil. The kinds of evil and suffering that they have experienced are not vastly qualitatively different from the kinds of evil the atheist is calling horrors and using to motivate their argument. But the people experiencing that evil are in a better place than the atheist is to talk about whether it’s unjustified, and many of them say that it’s justified. Plausibly then, all such evil is justified.
Does this argument work in reverse? Are those who don’t say it’s justified a problem for me? I don’t think so, I don’t think the observation is symmetrical. I think “I do see reasons, therefore reasons exist” is a lot stronger than “I don’t see reasons, therefore they don’t exist”. Seeing reasons is a very good reason for thinking that there are reasons, just like me seeing a chess tactic is a pretty good reason for thinking it exists: I’m wrong sometimes, but rarely. But when I don’t see a tactic, that is not a good reason to think that there is no tactic: I often miss tactics, much more often than I incorrectly see tactics. It is also my experience that the “I see reasons” often comes late in life, after a lot of reflection, and that puts it in a better epistemic position than “I do not see reasons”, which is often immediate and often supplanted by seeing reasons decades later. So by the fact that for any class of evil, some thoughtful, reflective people who have experienced that evil will eventually see reasons for it (or at least, will say that their lack of seeing reasons doesn’t justify an inference that there are no reasons), I think we can plausibly say that there possibly exist reasons for any evil in that class. This undermines the atheist’s judgement that there are no reasons for some particular horror.
Bare Theism and Skeptical Theism
If all we grant is that there exists the classical theist God, then I think we have some very good reasons to put forward a skeptical theism.
One such reason is the Parent Analogy, put forward famously by Wykstra. The analogy is quite simple: God under most conceptions of theism has a relationship to us similar to a parent’s relationship with their children. It’s no surprise to anyone who has ever taken a child to the dentist that sometimes, parents have to subject their children to suffering for reasons that the children don’t understand, but are nonetheless good reasons. Every child, if they were articulate enough, would be able to find some mysterious suffering that they are subjected to by their parents and say “I cannot see any sufficient justification for this suffering, it appears gratuitous to me”. Does the fact that the child experiences this suffering as mysterious, and can’t see any reason for it, mean they are justified in believing that there is no reason for it? We must say “no”. Sometimes children simply can’t understand the reasons that parents have, and they’re in no position to judge. If the relationship between man and God is relevantly similar, then this undermines the atheist’s judgement that the suffering that we see and experiences has no sufficient justification.
I think we can also, given theism, predict skeptical theism due to some goods that seem to arise from skeptical theism itself. The chief contenders here are trust and compassion. It seems to me that these attributes are impossible to develop in the absence of some mysterious and sufficiently great suffering.
Let’s think first about trust, specifically trust in God. It seems plausible that God wants us to develop trust in Him, at least under Christianity this is a central part of our relationship with God. So if God wants us to have this faith, how can He cause it to happen? It doesn’t seem like trust can exist if no H exists.
To see this, consider an example. If my wife says to me “I’d like our relationship to be one in which you can trust me”, can I safely respond “of course I trust you, I’ve got a camera and microphone hidden in your handbag!”? I don’t think I can, and not just because of the invasion of privacy, but also because such surveillance leaves no room for trust! I don’t have to trust, because I can surveil. Similarly, if I am able to see a corresponding good for each evil that exists, I never have to trust God to know what He’s doing. So in short: if God wants us to trust Him, horrors will exist. Plausibly God wants this, so plausibly God will allow horrors to exist. So the observation of the existence of horrors can’t be evidence against God.
Compassion is another attribute that God plausibly wants us to develop: people are simply better people when they’re compassionate. That’s part of what makes someone a good person. And compassion is developed by suffering. I think many of us know this intuitively too, having experienced this ourselves or seen it in others.
As John DePue says in his paper on skeptical theism and divine deception:
Another second-order justification for the appearance of gratuitous evil is that it produces some of the greatest acts of love and compassion. When we respond to seemingly pointless and unjust pain and suffering throughout the world, the exceptional character of the generosity and kindness that motivates these actions is fueled by the fact that the circumstances appear to be purposeless. Arguably, many of the highest degrees of human love would remain unrealized without the appearance of gratuitous evil that spurs us to extend these extraordinary acts of charity to others. Of course, positive skeptical theists are not claiming that these evil events themselves are justified on this basis, which would effectively disqualify their view as a version of skeptical theism. As skeptical theists, they insist that the justification for these evils remains beyond our understanding. What positive skeptical theists are claiming, however, is that if there is a God, we should expect the world to contain the appearance of gratuitous evils. This is the second-order justification for why God allows us to experience the world as appearing to have gratuitous evil.
The Bible and Skeptical Theism
The Christian has some further reasons to think that skeptical theism is plausible, following from some scriptural passages and various other facts that we know about God.
Consider first Job. The book of Job is probably the oldest book in the bible, and so constitutes the earliest Jewish (and therefore Christian) source. But the book of Job is all about mysterious suffering: Satan challenges God that job only serves Him because of God’s blessings on His life, so God removes these blessings and proves Job faithful. So right from the start, in the earliest source we have for our religion, we are told that deep mysterious suffering is not only possible but expected. So the Christian has a good reason to affirm skeptical theism, and the atheist has a lot of trouble motivating premise 3 of their evidential argument. In Bayesian terms, if Christianity predicts H, the observation of H can’t be evidence against Christianity.
The story is similar to that of Joseph. Sold into slavery, falsly accused and thrown into prison, he experienced great evil and suffering for which he could not see any justification. It was not at all apparent what greater good was coming from his suffering, if there even was one. If we are now justified in saying “there can be no reason for the evil I see”, so can Joseph. Joseph could have said that, if such an observation can be made at all. But if Joseph had said that, he would have been wrong. His suffering was used to preserve Israel, and later in his life, he would remark “What you intended for evil, God intended for good”. Joseph would later see the good coming from it, and would praise God for bringing it about. Joseph thinks that the horror was not gratuitous. And that’s part of the story here: in another very early Christian text, the first book of the scriptures, we are told in no uncertain terms that great and mysterious suffering will befall us, but at the end we may see why. Christianity predicts H.
And Joseph serves as a type of Christ. In the Christian perspective, the death of Christ was the greatest evil to ever occur. The only perfect man, the only innocent man, the one who is Himself God and the rightful King and Ruler of the world, is betrayed by His friends, falsely accused, tortured, and publicly executed. For the Christian, there is nothing more evil than this. The Apostles, who did not understand, would see this as the clearest example of a horror to ever occur. But Christ rises and God is vindicated, as the greatest possible evil results in an incredible good, the salvation of God’s people from the power of sin. And that good was not possible without the blood of the Son. What I want to emphasize here is this: if God is able to use such a tremendous horror to bring about such a great good, then it stands to reason that there are great goods that can result from the evils we see around us. We do not know what they are, the Apostles didn’t know yet why Christ died, but if God can turn the cross into a good, God can turn anything into a good. So again, the Christian has grounds to reject the atheist’s move from “I see no reason for this evil” to “There is no reason for this evil”.
Another point to make here is the theology of transcendence. God is above and beyond us. All throughout the Old and New Testaments we hear things like His ways are not our ways, He is in heaven and does all He pleases, how unsearchable His judgements and unfathomable His paths. We are reminded again and again that He is God and we are not. This is what He says in Job too, somewhat sarcastically. We should not at all be surprised by mysterious events, God’s purposes are often mysterious. In fact, we would be surprised if we did see such reasons all the time. This point is regularly made by preachers and pastors, even outside the context of formal discussions on the problem of evil.
If one of God’s purposes in the world is the glory of the incarnate Son sacrificed to save the unworthy, then we again expect a world full of rampant sin and evil for which we can’t see any purpose. We expect a world that is entirely unworthy in every way. Because such a world magnifies the glory of Christ, as He steps into the world and dies for it. And this is not a justification for any individual evil like a theodicy would be, but is instead a principled prediction from the core truths of Christianity that the world will contain severe evil for which we can see no justification. The worse the world is, the more unrestrained evil in the world is, the greater the glory of the Son who stepped into it and died for it.
Objections to Skeptical Theism, and Responses
With any topic as important as this, philosophers have gone back and forth many times on various problems caused by accepting skeptical theism, and various ways of solving those problems. Here are some of the main ideas.
One important objection is that skeptical theism is ad hoc. To understand the force of this objection, consider the geocentric model of the solar system. As we all know, this model doesn’t quite fit the observations. So the proponents of the model added epicycles. These are ad hoc modifications of the model to make it fit the data, and if you add enough epicycles you can fit it to any data. You can always continue to modify a model in an ad hoc way to make it fit the evidence. So the evidence that should have refuted the geocentric model ended up being incorporated as epicycles, and now the model “predicts” that evidence.
If skeptical theism were an ad hoc modification do theism, then that would undermine our Bayesian argument. Yes, Christianity would predict H, but only because Christianity was modified in an ad hoc way to predict H. Therefore Christianity is made implausible. The good news is that we don’t seem to have this problem.
To avoid the charge of being ad hoc, what we need to do is demonstrate that the expectation of H under Christianity is entailed by the core of Christianity, rather than just being an extra bit that was tacked on to avoid the argument from evil. And I think we can pretty easily show that to be true. We talked about Job, and from Job we know that the expectation of H has been part of Christianity right from the start, as early as we can go. And Job is incredibly early, possibly as old as the patriarchs. There can’t be any ad hoc modification if there was never any modification in the first place, and Job significantly narrows the window during which such modification could have happened.
We can refute the accusation in another way: not only by showing that our faith was never modified in this aspect, but also by showing that it proceeds from a central part of the belief. And it does, central to Christianity is God’s transcendence. We have argued this above: that because of how vast the gap between God and humanity is, it is entirely expected that some (most!) of God’s purposes will remain mysterious to us. Alexander Pruss makes a similar argument on his blog: it would be surprising for the Christian if they were in a world where:
of this evil was such that its point (a) could be understood by us and (b) it would be on balance good for us to understand its point. In regard to (a), we can cite our cognitive limitations. In regard to (b), we can cite the fact that it is likely that some of the justifications for permissions of evil would involve soul-building, whereas it is very plausible that some soul-building would require techniques that are hidden from its beneficiaries.
If skeptical theism were ad hoc, then we wouldn’t have been able to give a bunch of reasons from epistemology, theism, and Christianity that motivate skeptical theism. But those reasons are all pretty plausible, so it does not seem like sceptical theism is ad hoc.
Another objection to skeptical theism is that skeptical theism entails normative skepticism. The intuition here is easy to see: if we can’t make moral judgements like “this H should have been prevented”, then maybe we can’t make any moral judgements at all. Why be skeptical about some of our moral judgements, but not others? Any perhaps more dangerously, any reason we have for undermining the moral judgements we use in the problem of evil argument will end up undermining our normal, every-day moral judgements.
This is the argument of the philosopher Sharon Street, which we have talked about before. I still believe that the strongest solution here is an agent-relative ethics: it may be right for humans to try and do what they think is right, and it may also be right for God to frustrate them and counteract them. It seems quite plausible that God’s moral duties towards the world are different from a human’s moral duties towards the world, because of the vastly different kinds of things that humans and God are. This is what is argued in a recent paper by Philip Pegan:
In particular, moral common sense dictates that it would be seriously bad for a human being who knew she could easily prevent such an accident to fail to do so. Moral common sense obviously dictates nothing of the sort about God. So long as it is reasonable for the theist to believe that if God were to exist his relationship to the world would—or even just might—be relevantly different from that of any human being’s relationship to the world, reflection on this case need not give the theist any reason to doubt that it would be seriously bad for a human being who knew she could easily prevent this accident to fail to do so.
I think this is very plausible under Christianity. Most classical Christian accounts of ethics are something similar to virtue ethics, and in such a view the kind of thing that an object is determines what is right for that object to be or do. If God and humans are different kinds of things, it’s very easy for the Christian to say that they have different kinds of duties towards the world.
The atheist here may still respond “When I make ethical judgements, I am judging about what makes the world better or worse qua world, and acting based on that judgement. If skeptical theism were true, it would still undermine this judgement”. This is forceful because we are now looking at the value of a world qua world, whether or not a world will be better or worse based on the outcome of our actions. But I think this approach will fail as well, for a couple of reasons.
First, it’s not clear to me that moral judgements are about the world qua world. When I choose to save a drowning child, it’s not because I think that doing so will end up making the world better on average. I have no idea what kind of person that child will grow up to be, and even if I did know that they would grow up to be evil, I would probably still save them. I am not making a judgement about the moral value of the world under my decision, I am making a judgement about what kind of action that I qua human ought to take.
The uncertainty posed here is my second point: if we are attempting to judge which of our individual actions make a world better or worse, we are in a hopeless position. We have nowhere near enough information to make informed judgements of that kind. We have no idea what kinds of complex moral goods or evils might vindicate or condemn a particular world-choice. We have no idea what the long term consequences of our actions will be. If we have learned anything from the study of the discipline of economics, it is that well-intentioned and reasonable-sounding policies can have disastrous second-order effects.
So I think the normative skepticism objection does us no harm. We can appeal to a strong tradition of virtue ethics within Christianity to avoid Street’s argument, and avoid the arguments from the atheist that we need this kind of judgement to decide between good and bad worlds in our own actions.
I will not spend too long on this point, since we are getting quite long as it is. Some atheists have argued that if skeptical theism is true, God is deceptive. The argument is obvious: if God makes a world under which it seems like X, but really not X, then God is deceptive.
I think that this paper from John DePoe presents a very strong counter-argument: God does not intend to cause people to believe false propositions and God does not provide sufficient evidence for someone to justifiably believe a false proposition. Since these conditions are not met, God is not deceptive. I do not think I can phrase it better than he did, so I will encourage you to read the paper instead.
Objections to CORNEA
Because of CORNEA’s strong restriction on what counts as evidence, some philosophers have suggested that if we endorse CORNEA, we have no ammunition to respond to the problem of global skepticism. That is, we have no ammunition to respond to the problem that we may all be brains in a vat, or deceived by an evil demon into thinking we exist in the physical universe, or something similar. The arguments here are quite technical and a bit beyond our scope for today, so I will simply refer you to this paper for a discussion on the problem and some suggestions on how to resolve it. I think that the principles required to solve the problem are quite plausible and can be endorsed by the theist without any danger.
There are also concerns that CORNEA is incompatible with another plausible and widely accepted epistemic principle: commonsense epistemology. Dougherty lays out the argument here. Similarly to the above, the arguments here are dense and technical and beyond the scope for today. Matheson responds here and here, and those responses satisfy me.
When faced with an evidential argument from evil, the Christian has very good reasons to reject the inference from “we cannot see a justification for some H” to “There is no justification from H”. These reasons are motivated by plausible principles in epistemology, from experience, from the content of theism, and from the specific content of Christianity. Therefore at the very least, the evidential problem of evil fails when deployed against Christianity.
- A good summary paper
Ex-Christians often leave the Church because they don’t think anyone in the Church can answer their questions or make a case. It’s time for believers to accept their responsibility to explain what Christianity proposes and why these propositions are true, especially when interacting with young people who have legitimate questions. Rather than embracing a blind or unreasonable faith, Christians must develop an informed, forensic faith that can stand up in the marketplace of ideas.
Pastors still give sermons about not trying so hard to be perfect, not being so legalistic, aimed at the zeal of the faithful two decades back (I Kissed Dating Goodbye, anyone?), even though the people in today’s pews aren’t struggling with excess passion and guilt, but with excess complacency and languor
Charles Taylor too long and dense for you? I understand. Here’s a nice podcast on the topic of secularism, with a focus on pastoring and discipleship.
“That’s life in a secular age. That’s belief under the conditions of doubt. That’s pastoring and leading the church under the conditions of doubt. Because even watching things happen—whether you’re watching people move from death to life, through salvation, or whether you’re watching people experience healing, physical or emotional or whatever—the reality of secularism is that there’s this nagging, needling condition of doubt.” — Mike Cosper
I am putting together a large post on the problem of evil, where I intend to clearly and fully lay out my reasons for thinking that it is unsound. Before that, I want to outline some of the important ideas I will be drawing on. Since the main post is probably going to take a while.
I intend to put forward a positive skeptical theism, rather than a negative skeptical theism. Maybe a higher burden for me, but it is also compatible with some what I am thinking of as second order theodicies: reasons why God might want us to be skeptical theists.
Consider this principle: “An observation E is evidence of hypothesis H over the negation of H if H predicts E at a higher probability than the negation of H predicts E”
This is a straightforwardly Bayesian definition of evidence, but under this definition, it seems like the problem of evil fails. Since clearly, Christianity predicts the existence of horrors at some high probability, the existence of horrors can’t be evidence against Christianity.
The atheist here has a way to continue: Christianity doesn’t predict horrors a priori from some core principle, but instead slaps that prediction on to the world view in an ad hoc manner so that it won’t be defeated by evidence. Just like adding epicycles to geocentrism. Add enough epicycles and you can overcome and contrary evidence.
When it comes to predicting horrors a priori, I think we need to flesh that out more: neither you nor I can be said to really be making predictions here a priori at all. Both of us are embedded in long intellectual traditions which have evolved and developed in many ways because of the horrors that exist. Job might be the earliest Christian writing that exists, and you’re not willing to call it a priori. Maybe we treat this similarly to scientific advancement. I have an older theory which you claim has some ad hoc modifications to make my predictions true, while you have a newer theory which has no ad hoc modifications. I claim I have no ad hoc modifications, and that these predictions are really motivated by the belief. What we need to work out is whether my “ad hoc modifications” are epicycles or if they’re dark matter. I think that this doesn’t come down to “a priori” because that’s a mythical place neither of us can get to. I think it comes down to whether Christianity’s prediction of horrors (which you’ll definitely find in the scriptures) is consistent with the Christian worldview, or whether it’s an inconsistent or unmotivated concession to reality, to avoid rejecting Christianity entirely. And I think it’s easy enough to argue for that consistency.
Even if we take a very minimal Christianity to be the central motivating principle for our predictions, we have the Gospel. The Gospel is the center of all Christian theology. And the Gospel is that Christ came into a dark and evil world and rescued helpless, unworthy, and wretched sinners. So right there we have a motivated prediction of the existence of evil. We even possibly have a prediction for the greatest evil, the crucifixion of Christ. And not only the crucifixion, but the evil it takes to make the world dark enough, so that Christ is more glorious in incarnating. And the evil it takes to demonstrate us to be unworthy, or to make us unworthy. If we’ve predicted great evil, have we also predicted horrors? I think so. The only way we don’t predict horrors is if we also predict that we will have access to all of God’s reasons for each individual evil. But how would we have that access? Either God grants it to us via revelation, or we are able to plainly see it. But why should we expect either of those, given our wretched state and the transcendence of God? It’s very plausible that I can’t understand what an individual horror is doing any more than my cats can understand why I abandon them for hours every day. And it’s also plausible that God deliberately keeps such things hidden from us to remind us of our lowly state compared to Him, and to help build in us such qualities as trust and compassion. I don’t think it’s possible to truly develop compassion without being subjected to mysterious suffering, and I don’t think there’s any real trust if I always know precisely what God is doing.
If my wife says “trust me”, and I tell her “of course I trust you, I’ve got a hidden camera and microphone on your handbag”, maybe I don’t actually trust her. But if God wants us to trust Him (which He does under Christianity), then there must be some times of darkness where we cannot see what God is doing.
And there is one final strong argument here: some of the people who have experienced the worst horrors have remained theists, and indeed Christians, and have often said afterwards that they can see now what God was doing in them through the suffering and evil. The kinds of evil and suffering that they have experienced are not vastly qualitatively different to the kinds of evil you’re calling horrors and using to motivate your argument. But the people experiencing that evil are in a better place than you are to talk about whether it’s unjustified, and many of them say that it’s justified. Plausibly then, all such evil is justified. Does this argument work in reverse? Are those who don’t say it’s justified a problem for me? I don’t think so, I don’t think the observation is symmetrical. I think “I do see reasons, therefore reasons exist” is a lot stronger than “I don’t see reasons, therefore they don’t exist”. Seeing reasons is a very good reason for thinking that there are reasons, just like me seeing a chess tactic is a pretty good reason for thinking it exists: I’m wrong sometimes, but rarely. But when I don’t see a tactic, that is not a good reason to think that there is no tactic: I often miss tactics, much more often than I incorrectly see tactics. And I think also that the “I see reasons” often comes late in life, after a lot of reflection, and that puts it in a better epistemic position than “I do not see reasons”, which is often immediate and often supplanted by seeing reasons decades later. So by the fact that for any class of evil, some thoughtful, reflective people who have experienced that evil will eventually see reasons for it, I think we can plausibly say that there possibly exist reasons for any evil in that class. This undermines the atheist’s judgement that there are no reasons for some particular horror.
- Thucydides predicted that future generations would underestimate the power of Sparta. It built no great temples, left no magnificent ruins. Absent any tangible signs of the sway it once held, memories of its past importance would sound like ridiculous exaggerations. This is how I feel about New Atheism.
- Jordan Peterson: High Priest for a Secular Age
- Reforming Apologetics: The Light of Nature
- Babylon Bee: Increasingly Secular Nation Replaces Outdated Religious Ideas With Moral Judgements, End Times Prophecies
- Right Wing Nerds vs. the New Common Sense