Are you sick of arguing/talking/thinking about health care legislation? Me too. We need a distraction, something to take our minds off the nauseating subject. So let me propose a curious argument for your consideration:
My tummy hurts. Ergo, there is no god.
This argument may be absurd but it’s not intended as a reductio ad absurdum. Although a very simplistic form, this enthymeme encapsulates one of the primary atheological arguments—the argument from evil.
The structure of the argument becomes more obvious once we include the unstated premises:
1. Tummy aches are a form of harm being done to the physical and/or psychological well-being of a sentient creature.
2. Harm is evil.
3. God—an omniscient, wholly good being—would prevent evil.
4. God did not prevent my tummy ache
5. Ergo, there is no god.
This argument is a type known as the evidential problem of evil, the primary remaining form since the logical problem of evil has been solved.*
The evidential problem of evil is the problem of determining whether the existence of evil constitutes evidence against the existence of God. As the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy explains, “Evidential arguments purport to show that evil counts against theism in the sense that the existence of evil lowers the probability that God exists.”
One of the strongest and most famous examples of this type of argument can be found in William Rowe’s 1979 paper, “The Problem of Evil and Some Varieties of Atheism.” Rowe outlines his argument as follows:
1. There exist instances of intense suffering which an omnipotent, omniscient being could have prevented without thereby losing some greater good or permitting some evil equally bad or worse.
2. An omniscient, wholly good being would prevent the occurrence of any intense suffering it could, unless it could not do so without thereby losing some greater good or permitting some evil equally bad or worse.
3. (Therefore) There does not exist an omnipotent, omniscient, wholly good being. (Rowe 1979: 336)
I contend that Rowe’s argument is precisely the same as my Tummy Ache formulation.
Not so, you say, for Rowe has added the qualifier intense suffering. To which I’d respond: My tummy hurts intensely.
Actually, I would say that my construction is more solid. By sneaking in the adjective “intense” Rowe attempts to give the premise an emotional resonance, but merely succeeds in weakening his premise. The inclusion of the adjective shifts the premise onto subjective ground. After all, how does intense suffering differ in any meaningful, philosophically relevant sense from mere suffering?
Let’s imagine that all suffering could be converted to a single unit of measurement—suffering measured in Tummy Aches (TA). Let’s also say that the range of suffering goes from .0001 TA to 100 billion TA. At what level does suffering become “intense”? 10 TA? 100 TA? It would depend on the context. In the life of a single human, 100 TA of suffering might be considered intense. But what if we are talking about an amount that would disprove God shouldn’t we consider it within the context of the entire universe? On that scale, would 100 TA be a lot? Would even 100 billion TA be a considerable amount within the vast expanse of the cosmos?
Besides, what does it matter if we are talking about 100,000 TA or merely 1 TA. If God is omnipotent then he should be able to prevent my tummy ache. For the premise to support the conclusion it should discard all qualifiers and state its point more directly: “An omniscient, wholly good being would prevent the occurrence of any suffering . . .”
Stated in this way, most people would abandon this Tummy Ache/evidential problem of evil argument. However, some folks would still contend that an omnipotent wholly good being would indeed prevent all tummy aches—and that stomach pains are indeed evidence against the existence of God. To which the proper response is to ask, “Are you omniscient?”
The necessity of this question is based on the fact that premise #1 can only be judged by an omniscient being. When faced with the fact “Suffering occurs” we are left with the question, “Could the suffering have been prevented without losing some greater good or permitting some evil equally bad or worse?” Only an omniscient being could know for sure, yet Rowe’s premise begs the question by assuming that the answer is “yes.”
Those of us that are not omniscient, however, should be hesitant to conclude this is damning evidence. By remaining agnostic about premise #1, we have no reason to believe the argument is sound. It becomes apparent that the mere existence of evil has no bearing on the probability that God exists. The evidential problem of evil is, I contend, a non sequitur.
This is not to deny that evil is a problem. It is just not a logical or evidential problem. As philosopher Alvin Plantinga explains, evil is a religious problem:
The theist may find a religious problem in evil; in the presence of his own suffering or that of someone near to him he may find it difficult to maintain what he takes to be the proper attitude towards God. Faced with great personal suffering or misfortune, he may be tempted to rebel against God, to shake his fist in God’s face, or even to give up belief in God altogether… Such a problem calls, not for philosophical enlightenment, but for pastoral care. [emphasis in the original]
While I think the argument against the evidential problem of evil is sound—perhaps even obvious—I could have committed an error that is fatal to my claim. What say you? Can tummy aches be used to disprove the existence of God?
*Most philosophers (including William Howe who is mentioned later) would admit that Alvin Plantinga has solved the logical problem of evil. In his brief and masterful God, Freedom, and Evil, Plantinga concludes that it is at least possible that God could not have created a world with moral good but no moral evil.
March 23rd, 2010 | 10:10 am
“2. Harm is evil.”
Necessarily? I’m pretty sure it isn’t. Unintentional harm certainly may not be evil. I’m trying to pound a nail into a board, but instead smash my thumb breaking it. In that instance harm has certainly been done, but has evil also been done?
I also think there is a difference between “harm” as you are using it, and “suffering” as used by Howe. For example, pain causes suffering but it does not necessarily
cause harm. Pain, though it certainly does not feel nice, can alert us to a health problem that needs immediate addressing. In such a case suffering is still present but, on balance, the person has been helped by the pain not harmed by it.
Altogether I find Howe’s use of terms too sloppy. Your use of “harm” is more promising, but the connection between harm and evil needs more spelling out.
March 23rd, 2010 | 10:36 am
Rich Necessarily? I’m pretty sure it isn’t. Unintentional harm certainly may not be evil. I’m trying to pound a nail into a board, but instead smash my thumb breaking it. In that instance harm has certainly been done, but has evil also been done?
Your example, I think, could fall under the category of “natural evil”—an event perceived to be morally negative and that is not caused by the action or inaction of an agent, such as a person. Obviously, the consequence has to be part of what makes something evil. If I smash your thumb with a hammer what matters is not merely that I had bad motives but that you now have a bloody, painful thumb.
But it could also be the case that the act in your example was intentional. Alvin Plantinga has argued that all that appears at first glance to be natural evil could in fact be moral evil committed by freely acting supernatural beings, such as fallen angels. That possibility (while seemingly silly) has some bearing on the evidentialist problem of evil.
I also think there is a difference between “harm” as you are using it, and “suffering” as used by Howe.
I agree. Harm is, by definition, negative while suffering could be positive, even redemptive. I understand what Howe was trying to say but I think his choice of terms undercuts his argument.
March 23rd, 2010 | 11:34 am
This may be considered a coincidence, but I do not believe in coincidences: I awakened this morning with severe stomach cramps. At first I prayed for God to have mercy on me, but then I reconsidered. I prayed that I would accept the pain for my sins, which I always thought was a little extreme, but I read it in the 1940′s Baltimore Catechism, and ever since I have tried it (in the past five years I’ve only had intense pain two times and prior to that fifty four years of only a few incidences) I have had extreme relaxation and a subsiding of the pain, with the help of extra strength tylenol. I cannot really debate this philosophically, but it does sound like the argument that some Christians at my former Church believe. That if God allows you to undergo suffering, you may be cursed and hated by God. (Remember Pat Robertson’s comments after the Haitian earthquake?) It is different from the reasoning that there is no God if he allows suffering, but it is similar in that they think God does not protect people who suffer intensely. If God does not protect someone from being a crime Victim, then they think that person is not a good Christian. This is the same mindset that is used by most criminals to justify crime. If God didn’t want me to (steal, murder or rape) then he would protect these victims. Some extreme criminals believe that God appointed them to murder as a punishment. I guess I am digressing, but have recently been a crime victim, and was reading St. Thomas Aquinas on theft and longing for restitution that he talks about.
March 23rd, 2010 | 12:00 pm
I think Joe hit on the major problem with the formulation with his question, “Are you omniscient?” This question also applies to the second premise:
“2. An omniscient, wholly good being would prevent the occurrence of any intense suffering it could, unless it could not do so without thereby losing some greater good or permitting some evil equally bad or worse.”
In effect, the argument reduces to, “If I were God, I would …, He doesn’t, therefore He isn’t.” Notice the “If I were God…”
I, for one, am glad that neither I nor any of my human fellows are god, let alone God. Though, we’ve been making that mistake since the Garden.
March 23rd, 2010 | 12:15 pm
The article includes an asterisk without a footnote, and I am very intrigued.
The “*” was after the statement that the logical problem of evil has been solved. Would it be possible to provide the footnote? I have read, for example, “The Problem of Pain” by C.S. Lewis, and he makes a very good case for solving the logical problem of evil. But at the same time, even with that excellent book, I can imagine some people resisting the idea that the question has been solved, period.
Also, it is hard for me to separate the logical problem of evil from the evidential problem. How can they be different, and why would the “solution” to one not cover the other?
March 23rd, 2010 | 12:30 pm
Joe DeVet The article includes an asterisk without a footnote, and I am very intrigued.
Sorry, I should have made it stand out more. The asterisk refers to this part:
A couple of examples of what I mean are Robert Merriweather Adams, who says that “it is fair to say that Plantinga has solved this problem. That is, he has argued convincingly for the consistency of [God and evil].” Also, Howe admits (referring to Plantinga’s argument), “”granted incompatibilism, there is a fairly compelling argument for the view that the existence of evil is logically consistent with the existence of the theistic God. . . ”
Also, it is hard for me to separate the logical problem of evil from the evidential problem. How can they be different, and why would the “solution” to one not cover the other?
The logical problem of evil states that given that evil exists, it is illogical to assume that God exists. The evidential problem merely claims that given that evil exists, it is unlikely that God exists.
To “solve” the former you merely have to prove—as Plantinga has done— that is logically possible for both God and evil to exist. But because something can be logical and yet unlikely, it doesn’t solve the latter problem.
Personally, I’m not sure how the logical problem of evil ever gained traction in the first place. It seems to be a rather peculiar claim to say that the existence of the two (God and evil) is illogical.
March 23rd, 2010 | 12:52 pm
I think a fundamental flaw in the argument is the assumption that suffering is evil. Most people have bought into this assumption (especially since Jesus calls us to reduce suffering), but it holds little water.
I remember agonizing as a child over things that I now look on as being so trivial. People are willing to put themselves through severe physical bootcamps which cause severe cuts and broken bones without flinching (they are badges of honor after all), but these same people may go into a panic attack if they have to tell the truth about themselves to a spouse or parent.
If suffering were evil, then you could murder as many people you like, just make sure you give them anethetics. Huxley’s “Brave New World” where everyone takes drugs in order to be perpetually happy living banal insignificant lives must be the goal of society.
Suffering is often an effect of evil, but so is it’s opposite, apathy. More people have been killed this century by apathetic intellectuals (e.g. the Nazi eugenists and modern supporters of abortion) than calculated evil people. More people have committed suicide because of apathy to life and because life is too painful to bear.
Evil is simply separation from God, who is the only true absolute and the source of all life and love. Everything else, suffering, apathy, violence, cruelty, selfishness, disease, cancers, etc is merely a consequence of that evil (either one’s one, someone else’s, or humanity’s itself) or a means to a good (either bringing oneself to God, someone else to God, or humanity itself). If we reduce suffering or apathy without reducing evil, chances are we ourselves are somehow complicit in another evil.
Without God, evil is a meaningless word.
March 23rd, 2010 | 12:55 pm
I’m not sure how the logical problem of evil ever gained traction in the first place.
I’m reading “The Problem of Pain” now, but I can’t understand how black can come out of white. In a purely good universe, how does the desire to do evil ever arise? What’s the appeal?
March 23rd, 2010 | 1:01 pm
Thankfully we don’t need to be omniscient to evaluate evidence and use it to formulate beliefs. If I can see no benefit from suffering, then that’s evidence for me that there is no God if I accept the premise that a benevolent God would not tolerate non-beneficial suffering. It’s not conclusive evidence to be sure–if I knew what God knows I might change my mind. But that’s always true when I evaluate evidence from my limited, fallible perspective. That doesn’t make evidence worthless.
It’s always possible that God has reasons for allowing suffering that we can’t appreciate. That doesn’t change the evidential weight of seemingly pointless suffering.
March 23rd, 2010 | 1:24 pm
“Without God, evil is a meaningless word.”
Anil, I couldn’t agree more. That’s why Nietzche, as horrible as I find him, is the only atheist philosopher I respect. He is the only one who had the courage of his convictions on the issue of morality. He castigated as “those English flatheads” and “marketplace atheists” those who believe they can rescue Christian morality from the absence of the Christian God.
A little more on-topic, I’ve always said that the “problem” of evil is a pseudo-problem. It was answered more than adequately in the book of Job when God said to Job out of the whirlwind, essentially, “Hey, I’m God and you’re not. Who are you to question me?” Which is my facetious way of saying that it seems perfectly logical to me that a finite being, which by definition man is, would be unable to comprehend all the methods and purposes of an infinite being, which by definition God is. I like the way Carter put it, “Are you omniscient?”
March 23rd, 2010 | 1:28 pm
“Alvin Plantinga has argued that all that appears at first glance to be natural evil could in fact be moral evil committed by freely acting supernatural beings, such as fallen angels. That possibility (while seemingly silly) has some bearing on the evidentialist problem of evil.”
Interesting. However, I believe that would logically require us to be, if we were to remain outside the realm of evil, entirely independant of being acted on by outside forces/wills. Is such an existence imaginable? As the question seems to assume corporeal existence I have to think that possibility is logically excluded. (Unless one can think of a way to exist corporeally that would not be subject to outside forces/wills, which would have to exclude the effect of natural forces like gravity as well.)
March 23rd, 2010 | 2:51 pm
“I’m reading “The Problem of Pain” now, but I can’t understand how black can come out of white. In a purely good universe, how does the desire to do evil ever arise? What’s the appeal?”
I’m no theologian, but I believe the appeal comes from making the natural intellectual mistake of thinking that if something is good, then having more of it must be better. Just because pre-fall man was not disordered didn’t make him a philosopher, or less cheekily, didn’t make him wise enough to anticipate all the consequences of his actions, i.e. “I have freedom and knowledge. These are good things. Wouldn’t more of them be even better?”
Of course, one mature in his walk with God often comes to understand that what is Truth and Good is best understood as balancing a set of “good”s, and that too much of one can cause the atrophying of another, and that most “heresies” or falsehoods are so because their balance of “good”s is, in fact, out of balance, or that they champion a certain “good” to the exclusion of one or many or all others.
“One mature in his walk with God” is most definitely not how one would describe our first parents; in this aspect, they were as children. If there is any creature on earth that reflexively believes that “more” of something good is always better, it is a human child. Many a tantrum begins with the rather natural desire for more of a good that lacks the more mature understanding that limits are good, too.
That’s what I think, anyway.
March 23rd, 2010 | 3:15 pm
Evil is the willful selection of a lesser good over a greater good. The lesser good, being a good, has its own attraction.
March 23rd, 2010 | 3:48 pm
To paraphrase something I read, Pain and or suffering are not seperate from the natural world. They are part and parcel of the reality of existence and are a logical extension of that existence. The components of the world are made up of atoms, molecules ,etc. and this reality goes all the way down. What about the world would have to change for there to be no pain. For an atheist pain should be as logical as a bird in flight but it is not. They rebel against pain as much as the next guy or dog. Their rebellion against the logic of the world as it is is all of ours. Where can they go to escape pain given that in large part they have excluded the possibility of any other reality. For them it is either a world of pain or nothing. For most humans this is a stupid choice. We, at least in large part, turn to God as an answer to or a refuge from pain and death and for someone to then say that this can’t be true because there is pain and death strikes me as absurd.
March 23rd, 2010 | 4:01 pm
Joe, I think you mean to be referring to William Rowe (not Howe) throughout and Robert Merrihew (not Merriweather) Adams in one of your responses.
March 23rd, 2010 | 4:28 pm
Interesting. If you go with the Plantinga line of thought on the “logical problem of evil,” are you conceding that the presence of evil is only compatible with God’s existence if He has some greater good in mind? And if the greater good (in the case of the Fall) is the Redemption, what does that do to the notion of the Incarnation as God’s free gift?
March 23rd, 2010 | 4:33 pm
It seems to me even an atheist’s evidential problem of evil is really a religious problem at bottom. There is an attitude something like this: whatever religious people do to make themselves accept some hidden greater good or redemption in the suffering of innocents, I won’t stoop to that. I will call a spade a spade, and if God exists and permits this stuff to happen, then omniscience be darned, I think He’s complicit in evil.
Maybe this isn’t surprising, since the Enlightenment ideals for reason were often explicitly founded on aspirations of “standing up to God,” so to speak.
March 23rd, 2010 | 4:41 pm
Yawn.
“The necessity of this question is based on the fact that premise #1 can only be judged by an omniscient being. When faced with the fact ‘Suffering occurs’ we are left with the question, ‘Could the suffering have been prevented without losing some greater good or permitting some evil equally bad or worse?’ Only an omniscient being could know for sure, yet Rowe’s premise begs the question by assuming that the answer is ‘yes.’”
It’s interesting that you should say “for sure” here and then later contend that “the mere existence of evil has no bearing on the probability that God exists”: there are more options than 100% certainty and complete ignorance, you know.
I understand that people are bad at math and especially at statistics, but this is just pathetic…
March 23rd, 2010 | 9:20 pm
Larry, you do realize there is a difference between logic and mathematics, right? I mean, yes, Bertrand Russell attempted to build mathematics logically from axiomatic principles…but his effort failed.
Let’s try this…imagine I hold in my hands a sealed box. Inside this box there is a two-sided coin. At this point I vigorously shake the box, making sure when I have finished that the coin could not have been standing on end. Now, I could ask 100 people if they think the coin reads heads up or taisl up. Let us say 50 say “heads” and 50 say “tails”. Now, logically, we know that 50% of these people will be correct. We also know, logically, that 0% will know if the coin is heads or tails before the box is opened.
Notice that sentence, “We also know, logically, that 0% will know if the coin is heads or tails before the box is opened,” is not logically changed by adding the words “for sure.” Joe was merely making the distinction between guessing (and being correct) about one of the two available choices, and having knowledge. That isn’t knowledge about the probabilities, that is knowledge about the actual state of the coin.
Now, when you state, “there are more options than 100% certainty and complete ignorance, you know,” that is certainly a truism as far as general life goes…but in formal logic the status of any philosophical argument is either true or false.
For example,
Law: All men are mortal.
Case: Socrates is a man.
Result: Therefore Socrates is mortal.
This is the classic syllogism, and, based on what we know, it is true. Now, lets change things up a bit:
Law: All men are mortal.
Case: Hal 9000 is a man.
Result: Therefore Hal 9000 is mortal.
Now, based on what we know (namely that Hal 9000 is NOT a man, but a fictional computer), we can say that the Result is not proved by the syllogism and the present argument is false. Each logical argument is either 100% right, or 100% wrong. (I wonder if they still teach circuit switching anymore…it functions the same way.) A syllogism is not made “33% right” because one of its components is stated correctly/truthfully.
In the “problem of evil” is syllogism is given in some variation of the following:
Law: If there is an all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving God, innocent creatures would not be made to suffer.
Case: Innocent creatures suffer.
Result: Therefore there is no all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving God.
The question then becomes, how do we know the Law as stated is correct? Well, says Joe, we have no way of knowing short of being all-knowing ourselves. This is a powerful argument, especially when you compare it to the argument put forward in the other syllogism I mentioned. How do we know the Law “All men are mortal” is correct? Well, we establish it via induction (i.e. every man has proved to be mortal so far, and after the first few billion men die it takes on added weight, so much weight infact that it can be considered a Law.) Can the method of induction be used to establish the “Law” in the “problem of evil”? It seems unlikely, as we dont have any all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving beings lying around to compare God to.
(Laws can also be produced by deductions from other known principles. However, that doesn’t seem to be the case here either.)
March 23rd, 2010 | 9:58 pm
“It seems unlikely, as we don’t have any all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving beings lying around to compare God to.”
Well, there’s me, but I’ve been a bit busy lately. March Madness, you know……
March 24th, 2010 | 10:45 am
Strangely enough, none of the commenters so far have addressed one of the most problematic aspects of this essay:
“Besides, what does it matter if we are talking about 100,000 TA or merely 1 TA. If God is omnipotent then he should be able to prevent my tummy ache. For the premise to support the conclusion it should discard all qualifiers and state its point more directly: “An omniscient, wholly good being would prevent the occurrence of any suffering . . .””
One father allows his child to suffer a mildly skinned knee that he could have prevented (1 TA). Another allows his child to get a limb severed in a wood chipper when he could have prevented it (100,000 TA).
Would one honestly think that this isn’t relevant when asking which is or isn’t a good and loving father?
Of course we would. One can easily imagine that such things as skinned knees, aching muscles and one’s first broken heart are emotionally and psychologically healthy experiences and that a parent would allow them. But from this it obviously does not follow that a caring person would or should allow severe injury and agony as well. Why should God be the one exception?
March 24th, 2010 | 12:38 pm
David Ellis: Ditto.
March 24th, 2010 | 12:55 pm
David Ellis Would one honestly think that this isn’t relevant when asking which is or isn’t a good and loving father? . . . Why should God be the one exception?
We should first clarify that the question we are considering is not why a good and loving God that exist would allow evil but whether given the existence of evil, we can dismiss the notion of a good and loving God. Those are separate issues that must be dealt with separately.
To respond to your question, though, I think we have to keep in mind that the problem of pain is a problem of perspective. We humans have a natural aversion to the pain and suffering of those we love. For example, in your example you said:
The first question we can ask is why the father, who would be willing to prevent the unlikely 100,000 TA event not prevent the common 1 TA events? The reason is that from our perspective, there may be something to be gained from the 1 TA event (e.g., it will teach the child to endure minor suffering) yet we cannot fathom why a 100,000 TA event should be allowed.
But again, this goes back to my point about omniscience. We simply don’t have the perspective to judge—for better or worse—why God allows harm to occur at all.
March 24th, 2010 | 3:01 pm
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March 24th, 2010 | 3:11 pm
We should first clarify that the question we are considering is not why a good and loving God that exist would allow evil but whether given the existence of evil, we can dismiss the notion of a good and loving God. Those are separate issues that must be dealt with separately.
Actually, they are closely related issues in which the answer to one has a direct bearing on the answer to the other.
To respond to your question, though, I think we have to keep in mind that the problem of pain is a problem of perspective. We humans have a natural aversion to the pain and suffering of those we love.
All loving beings have an aversion to having those they love subjected to intense and unbeneficial pain and suffering. That’s inherent to what it means to be a loving person. And is as true of a loving God as of a loving anything else. Otherwise it’s meaningless to even say that God is a loving God.
The first question we can ask is why the father, who would be willing to prevent the unlikely 100,000 TA event not prevent the common 1 TA events?
Actually, in the scenario I’m imagining the injury with a woodchipper was far from unlikely (without his intervention). If children play in careless ways on a woodchipper severe injury (or death) is far from an unlikely event.
The reason is that from our perspective, there may be something to be gained from the 1 TA event (e.g., it will teach the child to endure minor suffering) yet we cannot fathom why a 100,000 TA event should be allowed.
But again, this goes back to my point about omniscience. We simply don’t have the perspective to judge—for better or worse—why God allows harm to occur at all.
We all know that allowing children to get their arms severed by woodchippers is not a good thing. It’s only when the POE is being discussed that theists suddenly start finding this sort of thing a mysterious unknown.
March 24th, 2010 | 6:08 pm
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March 24th, 2010 | 6:40 pm
“intense and unbeneficial pain and suffering.”
By what criteria do you assert that any instance of intense pain and suffering is unbeneficial?
If God’s first and foremost concern is our physical preservation and health, you might have a point. However, I cannot believe that anyone – believer on non-believer – could read the Gospels and come away thinking that this is the case. In fact, it is hard to come away with any other view – given the earthly fates of Christ and 10 of 11 of the post-Resurrection disciples – than that God’s first and foremost concern is for the perfecting of our souls, well above and beyond any concern for our temporal physical health or preservation.
I’m sure you’re already screaming in your head “How does a child having his arm severed by a woodchipper perfect his – or anyone else’s – soul?” I’m rather sure that I could not offer an answer that would satisfy you, but having lost a child, I’ll give you the view from where I sit upon the building blocks of my worldview:
(1) God is all-powerful, all-knowing, and all loving, etc. (you know the drill)
(2) God has endowed me and everyone else with an eternal soul.
(3) As our souls are eternal, the most loving thing God could do would be for us to have the opportunity to live with Him for eternity
(4) Therefore, God’s first and foremost concern is for the perfecting of our eternal souls, well above and beyond our temporal physical health or preservation
(5) God knows a lot more than we do, has a lot more wisdom than we do, and can see a lot farther than we do
(6) God very, very rarely swoops in to rescue a child (or anyone else) from death or disfiguration
(7) I cannot figure out what possible potential benefit a child’s death or disfiguration could possibly serve to the child’s soul, my soul, or anyone else’s
If you do not accept (1) and (2), which I imagine you do not, then there’s no point going on, is there? However, if you do, then (2)-(5) follow pretty naturally, (6) is a matter of human experience (atheists and deists would replace “very, very rarely” with “never”; however, neither atheists nor deists would have made it past (1) – albeit for different reasons – so quibbling over (6) is rather moot) and (7) is pretty much universal.
From here, it would be the zenith of stupidity for me to conclude that because I cannot figure out how something far beyond my capacity to understand could be (I’m certainly no expert on the perfection of souls), that therefore it is impossible for it to be. Just because I cannot figure out what possible potential benefit a child’s death or disfiguration could possibly serve to the child’s soul, my soul, or anyone else’s, it does not follow that therefore is must be of no possible potential benefit to anyone’s soul, and then from there proceed to conclude that either God is not all-powerful or God is not omniscient or God is not loving or that God does not exist at all.
So, no, my child’s death was not a good thing, and as for what possible potential benefit to anyone’s soul God allowed such a thing to occur, that is not a question I could begin to answer (though I wouldn’t flippantly describe it as “a mysterious unknown”), nor would it, I imagine, make the hurt go away if I could. But then again, I’m not of the mind that God owes me anything, or that He owed my child anything, or that He owes any of us anything, whether it be health, happiness, or explanations (about this or that) on demand.
Take care,
GR
March 24th, 2010 | 7:59 pm
We should first clarify that the question we are considering is not why a good and loving God that exist would allow evil but whether given the existence of evil, we can dismiss the notion of a good and loving God. Those are separate issues that must be dealt with separately.
Though I don’t share his substantive views on the big question, I have to agree with David Ellis on this one: these are not so easily separated. Unless there is room, in principle, for some reason why a good and loving God would allow evil, then it seems pretty persuasive that a good and loving God could not allow evil. (The alternative would be to hold that a good and loving God could allow evil for no reason at all.) And once you conclude that, the second question is just the contrapositive. You’d have these two logically equivalent conditionals:
If a good and loving God exists, then evil does not exist.
If evil exists, a good and loving God does not exist.
This is, I take it, the whole reason for proposing a theodicy: it’s hard to avoid the conclusion that there has to be a reason (even if inaccessible to us) why God allows evil. So defenders of “the ways of God to men” have to propose, in general, a way of understanding how such a reason might be possible.
March 24th, 2010 | 9:57 pm
By what criteria do you assert that any instance of intense pain and suffering is unbeneficial?
First of all, agony is sometimes beneficial when inflicted by we limited human beings because we may have to do something that inflicts severe pain but is necessary to someone’s health (for example, surgery following an injury when no anesthetics are available).
Of course, no such limitations burden an omnipotent being. Which is precisely why the suffering of this world is so problematic for theism.
Consider the matter this way. If the matter did not directly involve a cherished religious belief would you even stop to wonder whether children getting their limbs severed in woodchippers was necessary for their well-being in some manner?
Of course you wouldn’t. Because you have a brain in your head and aren’t an utter fool.
But since it DOES have repercussions for a cherished belief people are inclined to grasp at whatever justification or rationalization they can to save that belief.
Case in point:
If God’s first and foremost concern is our physical preservation and health, you might have a point. However, I cannot believe that anyone – believer on non-believer – could read the Gospels and come away thinking that this is the case.
And what spiritual need can only be served by having some people suffering terrible agonies? As you admit, you don’t have a clue.
So, on the one hand we have:
Mysterious unknown reason why a God we have little or no evidence for does nothing to aid those in terrible suffering.
Or:
A hypothesis that provides a complete (if unpalatable) explanation: God does nothing to aid those in grave suffering because he’s a fictional character and therefore can’t.
Again, if this belief weren’t so cherished no person with any rational faculties would have difficulty seeing that the POE is extremely strong grounds for finding theism implausible.
Finally, I’m sorry to hear about your loss. Most of us have lost loved ones but I can’t imagine that any such loss can be more difficult than that of one’s child.
March 25th, 2010 | 1:01 pm
Mr. Ellis:
I am sorry that you chose to read my post in a selective manner, as I am rather certain that I have already answered your above objections in my post.
For example:
And what spiritual need can only be served by having some people suffering terrible agonies? As you admit, you don’t have a clue.
First of all, that is not quite what I said. I believe that I made it rather plain in my post that I believe that God allows people to suffer terrible agonies to allow for possible potential benefit to the soul of the sufferer and/or to others. Exactly what that possible potential benefit is in any given circumstance is not something I claim to know; in the case of my own child, it would likely not take the pain away. However, as anyone who has ever played organized sports and/or been in the army knows, there are plenty of times when you have to endure something for reasons you do not understand and that neither you nor your comrades can get a satisfactory explanation for (the acronyms FUBAR and SNAFU originated in the army, after all) – you just suck it up and mush on, hoping that you’ll someday understand how it fits into the big picture or, should you get a chance to ask the big brass in person, that you’ll get an explanation.
So, while I cannot pinpoint what good the death of our child did for anyone’s soul, here are some possible candidates: the outpouring of charity from people we don’t really know that well (charity is good for the soul), the prayers said on our behalf and on the behalf of the departed (prayer is good for the soul), the raised awareness in myself of suffering children resulting in increased charity and prayer on my part (see the above parentheses), the rather heroic and graceful example Mrs. R. (helping hers) set for the young couple across the street who just had their first child (helping theirs)….etc. I am not claiming that I know that all or even any of these possibilities are the answer, or that I will know in my lifetime what the answer may be, nor did acknowledging the above possibilities make me feel better…but grief, loss, and sorrow are things that will pass away, while our eternal souls will not.
However, after conceding that while I do believe that God allows people to suffer terrible agonies to allow for possible potential benefit to the soul of the sufferer or to others, and that I do not know exactly what that possible potential benefit is in any given circumstance, I wrote…
“From here, it would be the zenith of stupidity for me to conclude that because I cannot figure out how something far beyond my capacity to understand could be (I’m certainly no expert on the perfection of souls), that therefore it is impossible for it to be.”
…which is a logically sound statement.
So, I did not say I had “no clue”. I offered what I believe to be a “big picture” answer (the potential growth and perfection of souls) but I do not know what the “little pictures” are (exactly what the possible potential perfection of souls is for any given tragedy) that make up the big picture, nor exactly how they fit together to make up the big picture. In the organized sports/army analogy, it would be rather foolish to quit the team or go AWOL because I didn’t understand and/or couldn’t get anyone in charge to tell me exactly of what benefit of the current agony was. To offer another analogy, while I do not know what the parts of my Challenger’s 5.7 liter Hemi-powered engine are, nor how they all fit together to form the whole, I’ve been told by people I trust and who are knowledgeable on the subject of engines that it is a very well-designed and powerful engine, (and I my experience has informed me that the faith I placed in them has been well-rewarded every time I open ‘er up the highway). However, it is logically unsound to conclude that, because I can’t open up the hood and identify the engine parts or their functions, therefore the parts serve no purpose, and that I’m a fool for having ever bought the car and believing that the engine would run long enough to reach my driveway.
As with the above example, I believe the answers to your other objections in your most recent post were covered in my above post.
Take care,
GR
March 25th, 2010 | 3:11 pm
One last thing, Mr. Ellis:
In my post yesterday, I offered 7 premises, or more accurately, 2 (or 3) premises – depending on whether #3 should be classified as a premise or not – followed by 3 (or 2) statements that logically follow those premises, and 2 observations. As I stated in the paragraph following these statements, if you do not buy the premises 1 & 2 (loving God endowing us with eternal soul in need of perfecting), there is really no point in arguing further, as there is no way one could accept the “big picture” answer I offered, and therefore my inability to pinpoint with any certainty the “little picture” answers (though I certainly can offer hypotheses) will only frustrate you to the point that you will likely feel the need to insult my intelligence or honesty. As I wish to spare you from adding to the list of insults atheists regularly lob at theists, let it be stated what we are really arguing about: In the end (and really, from the beginning) our difference is summed up in our differing views on the validity of whether
“a God we have little or no evidence for”
is worthy of belief.
If I wanted to be cute here, I would pull out my old guitar and sing Pete Townshend’s “A Little Is Enough” while attempting (and flubbing badly) his usually rather eclectic chord changes; instead, I’ll spare the world my insult to music and simply reply…
“I have found more evidence for a God worthy of belief than I’ll likely ever be able to process in two entities: in the Jews and in the person of Christ”
…a statement you would no doubt vehemently dispute (and, if you were not as bright as you appear to be, you would proceed to write a series of books disputing it without knowing what the hell you are talking about in regards to the ancient and modern Christian religion; but let’s leave Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett, Victor Stenger, and Sam Harris out of it). THAT is the real argument, and THAT is the root from which all these little sub-arguments sprout. It is also an argument that will have to wait for another time and likely another forum, as I fear the number and length of my posts has already pushed the board ops’ patience to its breaking point.
Take care,
GR
March 26th, 2010 | 11:34 pm
I have no doubt that we would not excuse the father who allowed his son to get a limb severed by a wood chipper on grounds that he had mysterious reasons for doing so that we could not understand. But then again, we would know that the father was not omnipotent, omniscient, and omnibenevolent. On the other hand, if we knew he had all of those omni-properties, we would probably cut him some slack (as if he’d need it!) and concede that his action was morally permissible. The problem, of course, is how we could know he had all of those omni-properties. And yet, if we were in a position to know that, wouldn’t we also be in a position to know what would count as mysterious reasons for allowing the wood-chipping incident? Perhaps not, but then how, exactly, could we come to know he had those omni-properties without first surveying the things he would be in charge of (e.g., the universe) to determine whether they were consistent with the creative/providential activity of such a being? And how could we know that without first knowing what would count as mysterious reasons for allowing the wood-chipping incident? I hope there’s an answer to this that doesn’t appeal to mysterious reasons.
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