philosophy

In meta-ethics, the term “good” has an objective factual basis. Discuss [40]

/ vardycharlotte / Leave a comment

In meta-ethics, in the past most scholars have held that the term “good” has an objective factual basis. Moral realists include ethical monotheists, who see the term good referring to God and God’s commands, as well as ethical naturalists, who see the term good referring to some quality that can be observed, and ethical non-naturalists, who see the term good referring to a rational intuition. On the other hand, since the early part of the 20th Century moral non-realism has come to dominate.  For example, non-realists like AJ Ayer and JL Mackie argue that the term “good” has no objective factual basis because it does not refer to a verifiable point of reference but rather expresses subjective feelings and emotions.  Overall, today the claim that the term “good” has an objective factual basis is not persuasive.

Firstly, ethical monotheists claim that the term “good” has an objective factual basis in God and God’s commands.  The Bible claims that “only God is truly good” Mark 10:18 and this is supported by both Classical Theism and Theistic Personalism, which have in different ways established that God is the omnibenevolent creator and the source of goodness in human actions. Further, at least for Protestant Christians, faith is Sola Scriptura and the Bible is a comprehensive moral guide, which suggests that what is good depends on God’s commands, which can be checked against the Bible, objectively.  Nevertheless, ethical monotheism is not credible.  Plato’s Euthyphro Dilemma shows that if God is the source of moral standards, as ethical monotheism suggests, then God cannot be good but is an arbitrary tyrant.  On the other hand, if in fact there are objective moral standards that God follows, he can be good but is not the origin of goodness as ethical monotheists suggest, and neither is He all-powerful.  Bertrand Russell found the Euthyphro Dilemma so persuasive that he used it as the basis for a disproof of God. Further, centuries of Church history demonstrate the problems with the ethical monotheist claim that the term “good” has an objective factual basis, when Christians so rarely agree on what it is or involves. Biblical Criticism shows that God’s commandments are not clear from the Bible, existing in different sometimes contradictory lists, being obviously influenced by the contexts of the biblical authors and being wide open to interpretation.  For example, the ten commandments are detailed in Exodus 20 and Exodus 34 and again in Deuteronomy 5.  The versions are phrased and organized differently, and the order of the coveting commandments is different between Exodus 20 and Deuteronomy 5.  Further, Jesus said that the two greatest commandments were love God and love of neighbour in Mark 12 and also that love was the only commandment in John 13.  Which commandments should a Christian follow and with what priority?  Further, the Commandments have always been interpreted differently by different Christians.  For example, Catholics and Lutherans combine the first two commandments, “no other gods” and “no graven images” while other Protestant Christians separate the first two commandments, making “no graven images” a separate commandment and leading to radically different attitudes to art and architecture even within Protestantism.  These examples show how ethical monotheism and its claim that the term “good” has an objective factual basis is not credible.

Secondly, ethical naturalists claim that the term “good” has an objective factual basis which can be observed.  For example, the utilitarian Jeremy Bentham argued that “nature has placed mankind under two sovereign masters; the pursuit of pleasure and the avoidance of pain”, reasoning that “good” refers to actions which produce the maximum amount of pleasure, which can be observed and measured using the seven criteria of extent, duration, intensity, certainty, propinquity, purity and fecundity, as well as the minimum amount of pain.  However, ethical naturalism is undermined by the is-ought gap, which Hume explained thus “in every system of morality, which I have hitherto met with, I have always remarked, that the author proceeds for some time in the ordinary way of reasoning, and establishes the being of a God, or makes observations concerning human affairs; when of a sudden I am surprised to find, that instead of the usual copulations of propositions, is, and is not, I meet with no proposition that is not connected with an ought, or an ought not. This change is imperceptible; but is, however, of the last consequence. For as this ought, or ought not, expresses some new relation or affirmation, it’s necessary that it should be observed and explained; and while a reason should be given, for what seems altogether inconceivable, how this new relation can be a deduction from others, which are entirely different from it.”  Hume’s point was that we can observe nature and what is, but we can’t observe any basis for ought claims at all.  Ethical naturalism is based on assertion and not argument and has no observable factual basis for what it claims to be good. Further and despite being a moral realist and thinking that the term “good” has an objective factual basis, G.E Moore claimed that ethical naturalism relies on the “naturalistic fallacy”, the incorrect assumption that something is good because it occurs in nature or is considered normal in society.  For Moore, just because something is natural or normal does not make it good.  For example, misogyny and sexual violence have been endemic through history and still are across the world today… this does not make these good or right.  This shows that the claim that the term good has an objective factual basis cannot b supported through ethical naturalism either.

On the other hand, G.E Moore and other ethical non-naturalists have conceded that what is good depends neither on the commands of God nor on anything that can be observed in nature.  Instead, drawing on Plato, they have argued that we know what is good as a rational intuition.  This explains why people find some actions which go against laws and don’t maximise happiness are good… such as a soldier disobeying orders and getting himself killed while trying to save a comrade.  Nevertheless, ethical non-naturalism is no more persuasive a basis for the claim that the term “good” has an objective factual basis than ethical monotheism or ethical naturalism.  The claim that we all know what goodness is as a rational intuition ignores the fact that people have widely different concepts of what is good.  Actions like that of the soldier are controversial… yes, some people would see him as a hero and say that his actions were “good” despite breaking the rules and compounding suffering… but many would reject this and argue that he should have obeyed orders and lived. Further, AJ Ayer was right to point out that claims about good, bad, right and wrong are better seen as expressions of subjective feelings and emotions, having no objective factual basis, than as having an objective basis in a rational intuition that we can’t observe or prove. Ayer’s argument develops that of Hume, that while we can observe what is, claims about what we ought to do are pure assertion and not verifiable.  Further, JL Mackie later agreed with Ayer, pointing out that ethical claims are based on an error and that moral judgments in fact “reflect adherence to and participation in different ways of life.”  Here Mackie was influenced by Wittgenstein, who had cast doubt on the ability of any term to have an “objective factual basis” arguing that meaning in language comes from usage and not reference so that it is not objective or factual. All these points suggest that ethical non-naturalism fails to provide any better defence of the claim that terms like “good” have an objective factual basis than ethical monotheism and ethical naturalism and that in fact ethical non-realism is more persuasive in its suggestion that terms like “good” have only a subjective basis.

In conclusion, the term “good” has no objective factual basis but is rather subjective and best understood as an expression of personal or communal feelings and emotions.  Today, ethical realism lacks credibility, so attention should be focused on refining ethical non-realism to provide the best possible explanation for how and why people use ethical language.

The five primary precepts are the most important part of natural law. Discuss [40]

/ vardycharlotte / Leave a comment

St Thomas Aquinas explained his theory of natural law, which shares many characteristics with other versions of natural law, in Summa 2i. 94.2.  He explained how natural laws are discoverable through RATIO, the human intellect, which is made up of SPECULATIVE REASON and PRACTICAL REASON.  Speculative reason reveals abstract notions and principles, such as “good is that which all things seek after,” then practical reason applies these to real life, developing moral precepts for us to follow.  For example, “this is the first precept of [natural] law, that “good is to be done and pursued, and evil is to be avoided.” Aquinas goes on to explain how “all other precepts of the natural law are based upon this: so that whatever the practical reason naturally apprehends as man’s good (or evil) belongs to the precepts of the natural law as something to be done or avoided.” He elaborated on the precepts of natural law, listing and explaining primary and secondary precepts, explaining how “Since… good has the nature of an end, and evil, the nature of a contrary, hence it is that all those things to which man has a natural inclination, are naturally apprehended by reason as being good, and consequently as objects of pursuit, and their contraries as evil, and objects of avoidance. Wherefore according to the order of natural inclinations, is the order of the precepts of the natural law.” Primary precepts are thus established as “objects of pursuit” or prescriptions and secondary precepts as “objects of avoidance” or prohibitions.  For examples, “whatever is a means of preserving human life, and of warding off its obstacles, belongs to the natural law…” meaning that the preservation of human life is a primary precept and “do not murder” is a secondary precept. Aquinas also lists as primary precepts sexual intercourse, the education of offspring, knowing the truth about God and shunning ignorance as well as living in society, avoiding offending those amongst whom one must live.  Overall, the five primary precepts are not the most important part of natural law.

    Firstly, the five primary precepts are not the most important part of natural law because they are derived from the first precept “good is to be done and pursued, and evil is to be avoided”, and different scholars have derived different lists of primary precepts, which have gone on to produce different lists of secondary precepts and disagreements in how natural law guides people in practical situations. Aquinas discussed whether or not his list of primary precepts was infallible in Summa 2i. 94. 2 and concluded that the first precept “good is to be done and pursued, and evil is to be avoided” is infallible, because it is so closely related to the Primary Principle of speculative reason “good is that which all things seek after” and because speculative reason cannot be wrong, its objects being necessary truths.  Nevertheless, the primary precepts of the preservation of human life, sexual intercourse, the education of offspring, knowing the truth about God, shunning ignorance and living in society are known through synderesis, which must develop its understanding of these precepts as it is formed.  While nothing the synderesis suggests can be wrong, the list of primary precepts it provides might be incomplete, which explains why some societies seem unaware of some basic human goods.  Aquinas explains how it is possible to be unaware that living in society and avoiding offending neighbours is a primary precept, “thus formerly, theft, although it is expressly contrary to the natural law, was not considered wrong among the Germans, as Julius Caesar relates (De Bello Gall. vi).”  This would explain why later versions of natural law have listed the primary precepts differently, and particularly why some have added to Aquinas’ five.  For example, John Finnis lists seven basic human goods, including play and aesthetic experience.  This could be because Finnis’ synderesis has developed further than Aquinas’ did, coming to recognise the essential importance of fun and beauty to human flourishing in a way that Aquinas never did.  It follows that the fact that the list of five primary precepts provided by Aquinas, and indeed other lists in other versions of Natural Law, differ and might be incomplete suggests that they cannot be the most important part of natural law.

    Secondly, the primary precepts are general injunctions and need to be translated into secondary precepts in order to provide useful moral guidance. Whereas the primary precepts are positive, secondary precepts are negative and tell people what they must not do.  For example, preserve human life is a primary precept and “do not murder” is a secondary precept.  Yet there are often multiple secondary precepts derived from each primary precept.  For example, the primary precept of living in society would lead to a huge number of secondary prohibitions, ranging from do not steal to do not lie to do not be jealous or aggressive… It follows that the majority of moral rules that people live by in practice are secondary and not primary precepts, suggesting that the secondary precepts are more important than the primary precepts.  Of course, secondary precepts are all derived from the primary precepts, so could not exist without the primary precepts and would differ if the primary precepts differed.  This might suggest that the primary precepts are more important than the secondary precepts, and yet for most people their moral awareness begins with the conscientia speaking against certain actions in a negative way, such as by warning people not to cheat or deceive.  Although it is true that the conscientia does this because it is seeking to apply the primary precepts to specific situations, in practice people are usually aware of the secondary precepts before or even without being aware of the primary precepts, which suggests that in fact the secondary precepts are more important.

    On the other hand, Proportionalists like Bernard Hoose would argue that the primary precepts of Natural Law are more important than the secondary precepts because there are sometimes proportional justifications for breaking secondary precepts, but never for breaking primary precepts.  For example, the primary precept of preserving human life might lead to the secondary precept, don’t run inside… because running causes accidents and people might get hurt… but in the case of an explosion it might be proportionally justified to run, risking accidents, when this is the only way to save lives. Similarly, the primary precept of preserving human life might lead to a secondary prohibition against abortion, but in the case of an ectopic pregnancy where inaction would lead to the death of both mother and child, it might be proportionally justified to abort in order to preserve the maximum number of human lives. Hoose points out that even Aquinas uses proportional reasoning to justify war, capital punishment and even the toleration of prostitution… so surely this suggests that primary precepts are more important than secondary precepts, given that secondary precepts can be broken in the pursuit of good, but not primary precepts.  Nevertheless, while Hoose is right that proportional reasoning in the writing of Aquinas and later scholars suggests that secondary precepts are less important than primary precepts, proportionalism has been condemned by the Roman Catholic Church, the main adopter of Natural Law.  The Church sees proportionalism as a slippery slope towards situation ethics, utilitarianism and antinomianism in ethics. Instead, the Church has chosen to adopt a Heteronomous Ethic, with the Magisterium using Natural Law alongside Scripture and Tradition to develop Church Teachings which are Secondary Precepts.  These are then used as the basis for encyclicals, Catholic instruction and advice as well as for formation. It follows that for ordinary Roman Catholics secondary precepts are more important than Primary Precepts, because they are encouraged to follow Church Teaching rather than to try to develop it!  While the Church accepts Aquinas’ teaching about conscience, it emphasises the importance of formation so that the Synderesis and Conscientia guide Catholics to follow Church teaching in all matters, rather than really to think for themselves.  This suggests that in practice secondary precepts are in fact more important than primary principles, even though this might not be true to Aquinas’ intention.

    In conclusion, the five primary precepts are not the most important part of natural law. As has been established, the list of five primary precepts might be incomplete and is certainly disputed, while also depending on the key precept “good is to be done and evil avoided”.  Further, secondary precepts make more difference in peoples’ lives today than primary precepts.

    To what extent is the cosmological argument a sufficient explanation for the existence of God? [40]

    / vardycharlotte / Leave a comment

    The cosmological argument has its roots in the writings of Plato and Aristotle, but is most associated with Aquinas’ first, second and third ways to demonstrate God’s existence and today with William Lane Craig’s Kalam argument.  While cosmological arguments see God as the “sufficient reason” for the universe, overall, they do not provide a sufficient explanation for the existence of God.

    Firstly, Leibniz’ version of the cosmological argument saw God as the “sufficient reason” for the universe. God is needed, he reasoned, to explain why there is anything at all. In “The Existence of God” Richard Swinburne writes how this is the most basic and persuasive argument for God’s existence.  Leibniz’ reasoning built on Aquinas’ third way, which started with the premises that everything in the universe is contingent and that something cannot come from nothing, concluding that there must be a necessary being – a being which exists because of itself and cannot not exist – to explain the existence of everything else. Yet Kant rejected this line of argument in the introduction to his “Critique of Pure Reason”, pointing out that as everything that we experience exists contingently, necessary existence is not something we can posit or discuss.  For Kant, to exist is to exist contingently and to be capable of non-existence… the idea of necessary existence is contradictory and impossible. While there are those who reject Kant’s argument and indeed his whole worldview, such as Willard Quine and Charles Hartshorne, it remains the dominant position in philosophy. While Kant may not have shown that necessary existence is impossible, his observation that it falls outside the scope of our experience strongly supports that conclusion.  This shows that God is not needed to be the necessary explanation for the universe we experience.

    Secondly, as David Hume observed through his character Philo in Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion, despite being presented as deductive proofs for God’s existence cosmological arguments fail because there is no way to show that their premises are true. For example, Aquinas starts his first way with the premises that everything in the universe is moved and that things can’t move themselves, concluding that there must therefore be a Prime Mover and that this is what everybody calls God. As Hume pointed out, there is no way to know if everything in the universe is moved or that no thing can move itself because our experience of the universe is too limited to support such sweeping claims.  It is possible that while things in the universe are moved and must be moved by other things, the universe itself could be unmoving and/or self-moving.  As Bertrand Russell later asked, why should not the universe itself be considered a “brute fact”?  Although Big Bang theory seems to have falsified the idea that the Universe could be considered a “brute fact,” in other ways science supports Hume’s scepticism, finding that sub-atomic particles like Quarks do not follow standard laws of causation and logic and forcing William Lane Craig to use more limited premises in his Kalam argument than Aquinas did in his Cosmological Argument.  Craig reasons that since “everything that begins to exist must have a cause” and “the universe began to exist” it follows that “the universe must have a cause”.  Although it strategically stops short of concluding that the cause of the universe is “what everybody calls God” – leaving this for people to infer – Craig’s argument seems persuasive in the context of a layman’s understanding of the standard model of Physics. Yet, Stephen Hawking criticised his argument for assuming that causation must or even could apply where there is no time or space at and before the Big Bang. This shows that the cosmological argument fails to demonstrate God’s existence

    On the other hand, other versions of the cosmological argument have been presented as inductive or even abductive arguments, suggesting that God is the most probable explanation for many observations of movement, causation, contingency and other forms of order in the universe.  This approach acknowledges that science could provide natural explanations for these phenomena, but dismisses these as less probable than the simple, elegant explanation provided in God. Yet, while the prime mover, uncaused cause or necessary being supported by Aquinas’ ways seems   to be a simpler explanation than the complex natural accounts presented by science, as Hume pointed out, the prime mover, if such there is, would be very far from being “what everybody calls God.”  In terms of prime movers, uncaused causes or necessary beings, there could be several for all we know and it/they would hardly need to be personal, immanent or good.  Also, the God of the Bible is nothing if not a complex character, being possessed of many characteristics outside the scope of those possessed by the prime mover, so that Richard Dawkins was right to reject the claim that “God” could ever be a simpler explanation in “The God Delusion”.  While Aquinas did attempt to show how the prime mover, uncaused cause and necessary being demonstrated by the cosmological argument was really the God of Christianity, these explanations were outside the scope of the cosmological arguments and unconvincing.  For example, Aquinas claimed that because God is the prime mover, uncaused cause and necessary being He must be timeless-eternal and outside the universe.  It follows that divine attributes like power, knowledge or goodness must be understood as analogies when describing God. Yet Aquinas’ classical theism is unconvincing because although it attempts to provide a philosophical justification for believing that “God” exists – not least through the cosmological argument – this justification is flawed and comes at the price of undermining both the Bible and Christian Doctrine as sources of knowledge about God.  This shows that inductive or abductive versions of the cosmological argument are no more useful as explanations for God’s existence than deductive versions.

    Further, all versions of the cosmological argument are part of Natural Theology, the attempt to explain that and how God exists using reason. Natural Theology has long been controversial within Christianity, because it assumes that human beings can discover God and potentially salvation for themselves without God’s grace, which idea was dismissed by St Paul (e.g. Ephesians 2:8) and later made a heresy because of St Augustine’s theological arguments.  It follows that for most Christians Natural Theology cannot provide sufficient knowledge of God’s existence or concerning God’s nature for human beings to attain salvation apart from God’s grace.  Instead, Christians must rely on Revealed Theology, such as through Scripture, Jesus and/or personal religious experience, to demonstrate God’s existence, nature and will.  In one way, this makes sense of the cosmological arguments’ failure to show that God is the necessary or even the most probable explanation of the universe and of the disjunct between the attributes of the prime mover and the God of the Bible.  It could be that the cosmological argument, and wider Natural Theology, provides only an indication that God exists, showing that faith is rational and that atheists are as St Paul put it “without excuse”, while maintaining the necessity of revelation and grace for salvation. Yet it seems terribly convenient that Christian doctrine should so cover for the failure of Natural Theology and the cosmological argument. St Paul and St Augustine would both have been aware of versions of the cosmological argument in the work of Plato and Aristotle and that these arguments are not sufficient explanations for the God of Christianity.  Could their theological arguments have been pragmatic rather than principled in their attempt to sideline reason in favour of revelation?

    In conclusion, the cosmological argument does not provide a sufficient explanation for the existence of God. None of the versions of the argument succeed in demonstrating God’s existence. Deductive versions rely on uncertain premises and don’t contain the full conclusion of the Christian God’s existence. Inductive and abductive versions fail to establish that “God” is a simpler explanation of the universe than natural explanations provided by science.  Also, theological attempts to explain why Natural Theology should fail are unconvincing.

    Critically assess Plato’s analogy of the cave as an explanation of reality. [40]

    / vardycharlotte / Leave a comment

    Plato developed his allegory of the cave in Book VII of “The Republic”.  The dialogue here is between Socrates, who seems to give voice to Plato’s own thoughts, and Glaucon, Plato’s older brother. Socrates sets the scene, describing a group of prisoners who have been held underground seeing only shadows for many years, before asking what would happen if one escaped and made his way outside.  The allegory represents Plato’s view of reality, whereby the world we experience through the senses is only one of appearances, whereas ultimate reality is metaphysical and beyond ordinary experience. Despite being influential for many centuries and still capturing creative imaginations today, the explanation of reality it conveys is antiquated, unduly complicated and communicated unclearly so overall, Plato’s allegory is a poor explanation of reality.

    Firstly, through the allegory of the cave Plato suggests that ultimate reality is metaphysical.  The world outside the cave represents Plato’s “world of the forms” in which a hierarchy of universals exist eternally.  The escaped prisoner represents the philosopher, who escapes from the world of appearances through reason, gradually and painfully realising that things are not the way they first seem as they come to terms with the forms through the light of the sun, which represents reason.  While Plato’s explanation of reality is immediately attractive – Iris Murdoch rightly praised Plato’s “blazing imagery” – in practice his suggestion that universal forms have a separate existence in a higher world goes well beyond the evidence. Aristotle, Plato’s pupil, agreed that universal forms were needed to explain our experience of particulars in the world, but he stopped short of suggesting that “formal causes” could be separated from the “material causes” which instantiate them and make them real. This explanation of reality is more persuasive than that communicated by Plato’s allegory of the cave. Further, even Aristotle’s explanation of reality through the four causes has been improved upon through modern philosophy, which casts doubt on the existence of universal forms altogether.  Is there really a separate form of the chair, whether it is separable as Plato suggested or not separable as Aristotle suggested, or is the “form” only an idea or concept in somebody’s mind, subjectively rather than objectively real?  This shows that the explanation of reality communicated by Plato’s allegory of the cave is antiquated.

    Secondly, Plato is vague and inconsistent in his explanation of the world of the forms.  as Julia Annas observes, Plato sees no need to argue for the existence of the forms, so that there is no properly worked out “theory of forms”.  He just alludes the forms in his dialogues as if their existence was beyond dispute, while giving contradictory accounts of what they are.  For example, in the Republic through the allegory of the cave and later in Book X Plato suggests that multiple forms exist with the form of the good (the sun in the allegory of the cave) as the top of a hierarchy of forms, but elsewhere he suggests that there might be only forms of ideals such as beauty and truth or even only one form, the form of the good. Even Plato was aware that the forms did not provide a clear solution to the problem of universals.  He failed to explain what exactly forms are made of and, as he admitted in the Parmenides, to limit the number of forms that would be needed to explain any particular thing.  As Aristotle later explained through his famous “third man” argument, to explain a great man a form of greatness and a form of man would be needed, but also a form of the form of greatness, a form of the form of the form of greatness and so on into infinity.  By Ockham’s Razor we can conclude that any explanation of reality makes reality infinitely more complicated than it appears is far from being useful.

    On the other hand, Plato’s allegory of the cave gestures towards an explanation of reality that dominated European Philosophy through to the Early Modern Period. Descartes Meditations provides a persuasive argument for the rationalism and substance dualism that Plato’s allegories and analogies evoke, and scholarly support for these positions has persisted.  For example, GE Moore and Iris Murdoch advanced “Platonist” positions in the first half of the 20th Century and David Chalmers identifies as a substance dualist today. Nevertheless, while Plato’s basic ideas influenced these later philosophers, none has accepted the explanation of reality communicated by the allegory of the cave uncritically and all have had to do a great deal of work in arguing for their positions.  In addition, Plato’s allegory of the cave has been associated with a new theory that our “reality” is in fact an AR projection or hologram.  Cosmology has undermined the “standard model” of physics just as it did the Newtonian steady-state universe; the absence of a clear and appealing model to replace it has made it fashionable to speculate about the nature of ultimate reality again, casting doubt on the view that the universe really is what it appears to be through the empirical senses.  Nevertheless, this doesn’t make Plato’s allegory of the cave or the explanation of reality that it conveys more credible, it only demonstrates that the human inclination to speculate as Plato did persists despite scientific and technological advances. Further, Plato’s use of allegories like the cave, as well as analogies like the sun and the divided line to communicate his ideas shows how his approach was more literary and creative than a serious attempt to explain reality. The fact that the allegory of the cave with its theme of voyage and return has become one of the seven basic plots, influencing religion as well as books and films from Narnia to the Matrix, only supports this. Plato’s allegory grips the imagination and changes our perception of reality rather than describing it.  So therefore, Plato’s allegory of the cave is a poor explanation of reality. 

    In conclusion, despite being influential for many centuries and still capturing creative imaginations today, the explanation of reality conveyed by Plato’s allegory of the cave is antiquated, unduly complicated and communicated unclearly.

    Aquinas successfully demonstrates that religious language should be understood in terms of analogy. Discuss. [40]

    / vardycharlotte / Leave a comment

    As the Summa Theologica makes clear, St Thomas Aquinas’ approach to religious language emerged from his concept of God.  As a Classical Theist, Aquinas saw God as timeless eternal, meaning that words applied to God cannot be understood univocally, to mean the same as they would when applied to created things. While the Bible, the Creeds and Christian doctrines use language univocally in ways that make God seem like a person, subject to limitation and change, for Aquinas God is timelessly other and should not be so anthropomorphised and limited by language.  He saw some merits in the apophatic approach to language, which speaks of God by negation if at all seeing direct religious language as equivocal, but wanted to preserve the possibility of affirming some things about God in a meaningful way, recognising that an equivocal approach to language undermines philosophy and doctrine in a way that must eventually be fatal to organised religion.  The result was Aquinas’ argument that words applied to God should be understood as analogies which is successful in avoiding both the pitfalls of univocalism and giving in to equivocalism, although it depends heavily on his concept of God and so may not be useful to all Christians.

    Firstly, Aquinas claimed that claims such as “God is good” should not be taken to imply that God is morally good, such as would imply choice and the existence of independent values but should instead be understood as analogies of proportion. When we say that something is good, we mean that it largely fulfils its nature.  Human nature is to be free and moral, but if God is the origin of our freedom and of moral values it makes little sense to anthropomorphise him by assuming his nature is like ours.  Nothing in this world is perfect; because of time and space nothing can fulfil 100% of its nature.  For example, a person has the potential to be a baby and an adult.  However good they are, they can only fulfil part of their potential at one time, such as by being a good adult.  Nevertheless, God is outside the time and space that holds us back from actualising our full potential and being perfect. When we say that God is good, we mean that God fulfils 100% of his timeless divine nature, being changelessly perfect; what it is for God to fulfil God’s nature is not what it means for us to fulfil our more limited nature.  John Hick used the example of a man and his dog, both of which might be said to be faithful. What it is for a man to be faithful and for a dog to be faithful are not quite the same, but by saying they are faithful we mean that both do a large proportion of what we expect of a faithful member of their species. It follows that our goodness is not the same as God’s goodness… the word good is not used univocally when applied to God… but there is a connection between our goodness and God’s goodness which means that words applied to God are not equivocal either.   In this way, Aquinas’ analogy of proportion is successful in avoiding both the pitfalls of univocalism and giving into equivocalism.

    Secondly, Aquinas claimed that attributes like goodness exist primarily in God as the creator and only secondarily in created things, so that what we say about God and created things is connected while still having different meanings and preserving the otherness of God. To explain his analogy of attribution, Aquinas used the example of a bull and its urine… the health of the bull is primary and the health of the urine it produces is secondary… the health of the bull and its urine consist in different things, but the health of the one is the source of the health of the other, so there is a connection.  Simon Oliver uses the example of me and my breakfast yoghurt… both might be said to be healthy, but the healthiness of the yoghurt is secondary and depends on my healthiness, which is primary.  My health might consist in having clear skin, energy and a habit of going jogging… but the health of the yoghurt does not consist in any of these things.  In the same way, the goodness, power or wisdom of God is primary, and the goodness, power or wisdom of created things is secondary.  What it is for God to be good, powerful or wise might be radically different from what it means for a person to be these things, and not only by degree, avoiding limiting God through a univocal use of language.  Yet, there is a clear connection between the goodness, power and wisdom of God and of created creatures, which avoids an equivocal approach to religious language also. 

    On the other hand, as Anthony Kenny pointed out the analogical meaning of God’s attributes preserved by Aquinas is extremely limited, making this approach to religious language unsuccessful when it comes to sustaining religion in a practical way.  Kenny suggested that the idea of timeless attributes such as goodness, power or wisdom seems “radically incoherent”, which is a fair criticism, as is the related point that many believers do not understand language analogically, even those who lead or have led the Church.  While Ian Ramsey was right to point out how people often use “qualifiers” like “timelessly” to signify that their use of words to describe God should not be taken as “ordinary language” but as religious language which is “logically odd”, in practice many people do not use such qualifiers or seem to understand that there should be any difficulty in using language univocally at all. Further, as Nelson Pike observed, the God of the Bible is “unavoidably tensed”.  It makes little sense to see God as timeless when that would make the creation, the fall and the resurrection simultaneous in God’s timeless vision. This is why Protestant philosophers look for other ways of understanding religious language, seeing Aquinas analogical approach as bound up in a concept of God which is fundamentally unchristian. John MacQuarrie lamented the adoption of the Greek concept of God into the Christian tradition, seeing this as the cause of multiple avoidable philosophical problems that have beset the faith through the best part of two millennia.  In this context, Richard Swinburne and Nicholas Wolterstorff approach religious language in a more straightforward univocal way.  Further, some Classical Theists support a more univocal approach to religious language than Aquinas.  For examples, St Anselm and John Duns Scotus reasoned that God as creator must have created the concepts through which we understand and speak of Him, meaning that we can speak confidently about God using a far wider range of words and meanings than Aquinas would allow.  All of this suggests that the success of Aquinas’ analogical approach to religious language is limited to those who share his concept of God and does not extend even to all of those.

    In conclusion, Aquinas’ analogical approach to understanding religious language is coherent and persuasive if one shares his concept of God, although it is possibly too limited to support religious practice.  Nevertheless, many Christians do not accept either Aquinas’ concept of God or his analogical approach to understanding religious language because they choose to focus on revealed rather than on natural theology as the primary source of their knowledge of God.

    Examples of mystical experiences should be considered valid religious experiences. Discuss [40]

    / vardycharlotte / Leave a comment

    In his “Varieties of Religious Experience” William James argued that examples of mystical experiences which have the four marks of being passive, transient, ineffable and noetic justify their recipient’s belief in God and deserve to be taken seriously by others, as potentially valid religious experiences. Yet, atheists like Richard Dawkins remain unconvinced, arguing that “exceptional claims demand exceptional evidence” and dismissing all “mystical experiences” as fakes or mistakes. Overall, Dawkins’ argument arises from prejudice and an unscientifically closed mind, so James’ argument is more persuasive.

    Firstly, Dawkins rejects the claim of any “mystical experience” to be considered a valid religious experience.  Like David Hume in his analysis “Of Miracles”, Dawkins reasons that it is always more probable that the experience was the result of psychological and/or physiological processes than that the experience was of God.  Dawkins’ argument has intuitive appeal and has been supported by other atheists, including Susan Blackmore, Christopher Hitchens and Sam Harris, yet it does not stand up to closer scrutiny. Yes, scientists can “explain away” individual experiences… saying that St Augustine undergoing a moral crisis and St Bernadette an attention-seeker… but each explanation is different, while what the mystics claim to have experienced is one and the same. Is it more likely that so many different people in different circumstances are all deluded from multiple different improbable causes, or that what so many people have reported to have experienced in diverse ways is real?  As James concluded, “higher” mystical experiences “offer us HYPOTHESES, hypotheses which we may voluntarily ignore, but which as thinkers we cannot possibly upset.[1]” It is fair to say that Dawkins chooses to ignore examples of mystical experiences which, if taken seriously and properly investigated, might yield a better insight into reality than the narrow scientific materialism that Dawkins seems wedded to.  In “The Existence of God” Richard Swinburne has shown how it is slightly more probable that God exists than not and that – given that prior probability and the principles of credulity and testimony – the existence of so many religious experiences (though defined more broadly than according to James’ four marks) tips the balance decisively in favour of God’s existence. Dawkins’ argument that mystical experiences are always more probably fakes or mistakes than valid has thus been falsified.

    Secondly, scientists like Dawkins have sought to provide alternative explanations for mystical experiences to show that they are not valid religious experiences.  Yet, as James pointed out, such explanations cannot account for the positive and lasting change that such experiences bring about in their recipients’ lives. For example, it may be that St Paul’s experiences were the result of epileptic seizures, but this medical explanation can’t account for the spiritual effect of the experiences on Paul and through him, on the world. Many people have had epileptic seizures, but only one wrote most of the New Testament. Further, despite his scepticism about their causes, Dawkins is fascinated by spiritual experiences and volunteered to be a research subject, wearing Michael Persinger’s “God helmet” to discover what so many religious people have felt.  Afterwards, he said that he was “very disappointed” by the experience, finding that the brain stimulation did not in fact create the sensation that mystics report.  This suggests that one of the most common scientific means of “explaining away” mystical experiences is not credible. In addition, assuming that some experiences are valid, God must appear to people in some way; if not through visions or voices, then through some ineffable, transient sensation as reported by mystics.  Yet, whatever sensation God chooses is bound to be affected by disorders, so that if a person has an ineffable sensation, it is likely to be diagnosed in terms of an associated disorder.  Also, even if scientists can identify how somebody might have an unusual sensation, this does not account for why they had the sensation… God could be working through physiological processes.  All of this shows that Dawkins is wrong and that examples of mystical experiences should be considered as potentially valid religious experiences.

    On the other hand, claimed “mystical experiences” are very diverse and vary in credibility. It is difficult to define mystical experiences so that only those that are credible are included when claiming that they should be considered valid religious experiences. For example, James argued that “higher” mystical experiences, such as should be considered as valid religious experiences, have the four marks of being passive, transient, ineffable and noetic. Yet, it is not clear that even the examples James appeals to have all four marks.  James uses St Teresa of Avila’s descriptions of mystical experiences to develop his argument, yet were these experiences really either passive or transient… and given the number of words she used to describe them, were they ineffable either?  Further, other scholars have defined mystical experiences differently, either more narrowly as in the definitions of Otto and Stace, or more broadly, as in the definitions of Swinburne and the Alister Hardy Centre.  The lack of a single, clear definition for mystical experiences and the inclusion of less credible experiences within some of these definitions surely undermines the case for considering them valid religious experiences.  Nevertheless, perhaps the lack of a clear definition is to be expected if mystical experiences are valid religious experiences. As James points out, language is inadequate when it comes to describing God so that scholars have sometimes resorted to the apophatic way or analogy and the use of qualifiers. Why would we expect people to be able to describe mystical experiences of God any more clearly? 

    In conclusion, examples of mystical experiences should be considered as potentially valid religious experiences.  While some claimed mystical experiences lack credibility and are probably not valid religious experiences, others deserve serious consideration and scientific investigation that does not begin from a fixed starting point of naïve materialism.

    [1] https://csrs.nd.edu/assets/59930/williams_1902.pdf page 325

    Assess the view that Aquinas’ doctrine of analogy enables us to speak significantly about God (40)

    / vardycharlotte / Leave a comment

    Aquinas doctrine of analogy was intended to reconcile a philosophically credible concept of God, a God who is wholly “other”, with the human ability to speak about Him in meaningful terms.  Aquinas, who based his worldview on that of Aristotle, saw that God’s existence is best demonstrated a posteriori, from experience.  Four of his famous five ways show that God is what Aristotle called the “Prime Mover”, the originating and sustaining cause of everything which also defines the final cause of the universe and explains its teleological character.  This suggests that for Aquinas’ God, like Aristotle’s prime mover, is eternal outside time and space, impersonal and transcendent.  As Maimonides pointed out, this means that claims about God should not be understood univocally, because the edge of time and space – and thus possible experience – is like a “veil and partition” between God and us.  What it means for God to be good cannot be the same as what it means for a human being to be good… There is no time or choice for God, after all.  Nevertheless, Aquinas disagreed with Maimonides about the apophatic way being the only way to speak concerning God.  Aquinas saw that religion cannot be well supported by negative language, also pointing out that one has to have a clear concept of what God is to be able to decide what God is not.  Therefore, Aquinas’ doctrine of analogy attempted to define what can be said about God in positive terms, steering people away from univocicity whilst preventing claims from being seen as equivocal either.  Nevertheless, Aquinas’ doctrine of analogy does not enable us to speak significantly enough about God.

    Firstly, Aquinas’ doctrine of analogy is too limited to support the meaningfulness of morality.  For Aquinas, I can say that God is good meaningfully.  Through analogy of proportion, by saying that God is good I know that God is 100% actual and has no potential, because the meaning of goodness is that something fulfils its nature and God, being atemporal, can do nothing other than 100% fulfil his nature.  Further, through analogy of attribution, I know that God’s goodness is unlike human goodness and yet it has a causative relationship with human goodness in the way that the goodness of the baker or the bull has a causative relationship with the goodness of the bread or the urine.  Relatedly though more broadly, through Aquinas’ analogy of being, I know that the being of created contingent things is secondary to the primary being of God.  In the way that the healthiness of a yoghurt is secondary and the healthiness of the person who eats the yogurt is primary, so the being of God is primary and supports the being of all other things, although what it means for God to be and created things to be is not the same.  Nevertheless, knowing that God is 100% whatever God is and that his goodness and being enables things in the world to be good and be does not really tell me anything significant about God’s nature, other than perhaps that he intends things to fulfil their various natures as He fulfils His timelessly.  Aquinas built his theory of natural law on this analogical understanding of God’s nature and tried to extrapolate moral norms from it, suggesting that it is God’s will that human beings fulfil their common nature and that actions which contribute to this end are good.  Yet Natural Law struggles because there is no clear and consistent account of what the common human nature, that God wants us to fulfil in order to be good, is.  For one example, while Aquinas saw procreation as a necessary part of this human nature and thus essential to human goodness, Chappell and originally Finnis disagreed, not seeing procreation as a necessary part of human nature or essential to goodness at all.  Their position is strengthened by Aquinas own argument that some goods pertain to certain men more than others, hence a priest may be celibate because he is pursuing the good of praising God which conflicts with the good of having children in practice.  The fact that people can’t agree on what a common human nature entails, despite being able to experience and observe this, emphasizes how little content there can be within the claim “god is good” – or any other claim about God’s nature – when understood analogically. Further, having so little idea of what God’s goodness entails forces us to rely heavily on a contested definition of human nature, meaning that an analogical approach to religious language fails to support morality.  This shows that Aquinas doctrine of analogy does not enable us to speak significantly enough about God, because it only serves to emphasis how little we can know about God’s goodness and fails to support morality. 

    Secondly, Aquinas’ doctrine of analogy does not support the meaningfulness of the Bible or central documents such as the Nicene Creed.  From the Bible we know that God spoke on numerous occasions, appeared in visions and had relationships with Prophets and with Jesus, and yet again, Aquinas’ doctrine of analogy emphasizes the “otherness” of God, which undermines these essentially Christian beliefs.  At least Maimonides admitted that Scripture should be read as myths and legends, yet Aquinas never went this far. According to Aquinas’ doctrine of analogy, we can only speak analogically of God because God is outside time and space and what Tillich later called “the ground of our being”, yet this is not the impression that (most of) the Bible gives.  As Nelson Pike pointed out, the Bible’s God acts in a way that is “unavoidably tensed” and apparently at odds with an analogical interpretation of religious language.  For example, Aquinas would suggest that a claim that “God created the heavens and the earth” should not be understood univocally.  God’s creative act cannot be like a creative act of say a potter.  Rather, God’s creative act must be simple and single, as befits his timeless-eternal nature.  This means that all parts of God’s creative action are concurrent, just as all God’s various attributes are different ways of understanding God’s wholly simple nature.  There can be no division between parts of God’s act in creation, just as there can be no division between God’s goodness and power, his power and knowledge for examples.  How then can we make sense of the Biblical salvation narrative?  Analogically, Aquinas would have us believe that God’s act in creation is not like a human act, having no time before, during or after and no alternative possibilities.  How though can the creation be concurrent with the fall and with the incarnation and final judgement?  This makes no sense of central Christian doctrines.  Also, the doctrine of the Trinity is problematic, because it suggests that God is best understood through the three distinct persons of God.  Aquinas’ doctrine of analogy suggests otherwise… indeed we must focus on the very oneness of God to make sense of what we can say and mean analogically through proportion, attribution and being more generally.  This inability to support claims made in the Bible and creeds also shows that Aquinas’ doctrine of analogy is too limited to enable Christians to speak significantly of God. 

    Of course, Aquinas’ theory of analogy has its supporters and indeed enables us to speak more significantly about God than does the via negativa.  Aquinas’ theory of analogy is highly influential within modern Roman Catholicism and has been developed by thinkers ranging from Ian Ramsey to Austin Farrar and Gerard Hughes.  Even John Hick praised Aquinas analogical approach to religious language.  Ramsey noted how people naturally see claims made about God as “logically odd.” When we use words like power or love in relation to God, we know that we don’t intend people to interpret them in the same way as they would in ordinary language.  Words are in a sense “models” of what we mean about God; just as a model of an atom in a science lab isn’t adequate to express the structure of the atom or the concept of the light-wave to express how light works, so the word “power” isn’t entirely adequate to express that attribute of God, but it is the best means of expression that we have.  Further, Ramsey noted that we use “qualifiers” such as “Holy” to indicate that we are using a “model”, that our claim is “logically odd” and that our intended meaning relative to God is not the same as the common meaning of words such as power or knowledge.  Hick praised this aspect of analogy noting that it allows us to speak significantly about God while also preserving the essential mystery and ineffability of the divine. Hughes suggested that the qualifier “timeless” is most appropriate to signify that words are being used analogically, drawing the mind to that part of a common meaning that makes sense in relation to the timeless nature of God.  Thus for the Thomist, when I say “God is good” I should say “God is timelessly good”, ruling out a moral interpretation of the claim which would be incompatible with God’s eternal nature.  This shows that an analogical approach to language fits in with modern Roman Catholic beliefs and usage, supporting the significance of some important things that Catholics say about God.  Yet Aquinas’ analogical approach to religious language still fails to enable us to speak significantly about God for two reasons. 

    • Firstly because some Roman Catholic writers were critical of Aquinas’ analogical theory of religious language straight away.  For example, John Duns Scotus preferred the Cataphatic approach of St Anselm and St Bonaventure.  An analogical approach to language is, for Scotus, too limited to support significant religious beliefs and utterances.  Instead, Scotus argued that we should be able to speak univocally of God since the very concepts we use to describe and affirm his characteristics were created by God as part of his simple, single act of creation.  His approach owes more to Plato than it does to Aristotle, suggesting that God is more like the Form of the Good, giving definition to the concepts through which we experience reality and so knowable through reason and describable in ordinary language.
    • Secondly, because while analogy does seem intuitive to those whose worldview includes a timeless-eternal God, it is less so for those whose worldview includes a personal, immanent God.  How is the claim that God is timelessly wise, as Hughes might have it, compatible with the claim that God knows “the inmost secrets of our hearts” as the Psalmist affirms, let alone with the claim that God hears and answers prayers?  God’s wisdom should not be understood univocally, and should only be taken to mean that God has 100% of the knowledge appropriate to God, being timeless, and that God’s knowledge and our knowledge have a causative relationship of some sort, God’s wisdom being primary and ours secondary in the way that the health of a person is primary and of a yoghurt is secondary.  Neither of those understandings support the significance of my belief that God knows what is in my heart right now, or is capable of understanding and answering me personally.   

    Of course, Aquinas’ doctrine of analogy is still better than Maimonides via negativa.  The via negativa wouldn’t let me say anything positive about God’s wisdom or knowledge at all, supporting only the claim that “God is not ignorant” for example.  Yet in practice the content supported by the doctrine of analogy is only a little more significant than that supported by the via negativa, and as has already been argued, is certainly not sufficient to do justice to the range of Christian beliefs or documents such as the Bible or the Creed.  This shows that Aquinas’ doctrine of analogy does not enable us to speak significantly enough about God.

    In conclusion, while Aquinas doctrine of analogy supports us in speaking more significantly than does the via negativa, it still does not enable us to speak significantly enough about God to support Christian faith.  Being Christian demands that God is and can be said to be personal, immanent, active through the Bible and in the world today, not to mention incarnate in Jesus who was fully God as well as fully man.  Aquinas’ doctrine of analogy is far too limited to enable Christians to articulate these significant beliefs.  Better understandings of religious language from this point of view include symbol and metaphor, both of which allow a greater variety of things to be said meaningfully than does analogy.

    Secularists who say that Christianity is a source of unhappiness are wrong.  Evaluate this statement. [40]

    / vardycharlotte / Leave a comment

    Philosophical secularists such as Sigmund Freud and Richard Dawkins have often criticised Christianity for causing unhappiness.  Freud saw all religion as a “universal obsessional neurosis” which supported irrational beliefs and behaviour and created taboos which are often harmful to individuals.  While Freud admitted the usefulness of religion in “keeping down the masses” in his “Civilisation and its Discontents” (1927), Dawkins went further, claiming that religion is the “root of all evil” and the cause of multiple personal and social problems because it is anti-intellectual and as a meme corrosive to the critical faculties, particularly of the young.  Christianity, Dawkins suggests, may seem benign… but really indoctrinates people into a backward ideology which provides questionable moral guidance.  While these arguments seem persuasive and certainly highlight personal and social problems that religion in general, sometimes Christianity, might contribute towards, overall, they don’t demonstrate that Christianity causes unhappiness.  This is because people may well be happier with the crutch of an “obsessional neurosis” than without one, because the good the Church still outweighs the bad and because confronting the truth and being a critical thinker is rarely conducive to happiness!  For these reasons, secularists such as Freud and Dawkins are wrong when they say that Christianity is a source of unhappiness. 

    Firstly, Freud argued that religion causes unhappiness because it is a “universal obsessional neurosis”.  In the same way as an individual might deal with unresolved childhood trauma by channelling tension into ritualistic behaviours such as obsessional handwashing or superstitions such as saluting magpies or not treading on cracks, societies deal with trauma by channelling it into religion.  For example, in Totem and Taboo (1913) Freud claimed that the Judaeo-Christian tradition emerged as a response to an original act of patricide, a claim which he later elaborated in Moses and Monotheism (1939).  Nevertheless, Freud’s critique of religion does not claim that Christianity is always a source of unhappiness.  People may find it easier to cope when they have a ritual which they believe influences feelings and situations which they cannot otherwise control.  Societies might well function better when they are able to process their collective guilt and grief through religious myth and ritual than they would without such an opportunity.  Just because a belief or practice is irrational and/or not based on a scientific or historical truth does not mean that it necessarily makes people unhappy.  Further, influenced by Feuerbach, Freud suggested that God is subconsciously created by human beings in an act of wish-fulfilment, rather than the other way around.  Feuerbach wrote “Consciousness of God is self-consciousness, knowledge of God is self-knowledge” and Freud would certainly have agreed, judging by his “The Future of an Illusion” (1927) Nevertheless, since when did self-knowledge cause people unhappiness, especially when it results in beliefs that comfort and compensate for deficits as in this case?  Also, as Swinburne, Plantinga and Hick have pointed out, Freud can’t exclude the possibility that God might have designed us to subconsciously project God in this way.  As Alston pointed out in 1967 “Freudian theory is not logically incompatible with the truth, justifiability and value of traditional religion…”  and also, projecting God fulfils wishes and so makes people happy, not unhappy suggesting that as a secularist Freud was wrong that Christianity is a cause of unhappiness.

    Secondly, Dawkins argued that religion causes unhappiness because it is “anti-intellectual” and -acting as a meme – attacks the critical faculties, particularly of young people.  Nevertheless, Dawkins has no scientific evidence for the existence of memes in the way that he describes them, and further if they do exist in this way, by Dawkins own logic they must do so because they confer an evolutionary advantage of some sort.  The fact is that more people are affected by the religious “meme” than are not – and those who are affected seem much more likely to breed! – so there must be an evolutionary justification for religion.  Of course, Dawkins would reject the claim that human beings should follow evolutionary pressures, writing “we should not live by Darwinian principles… I am very comfortable with the idea that we can override biology with free-will…” and yet he fails to explain why people should believe the free-will to do this, when there is no evidence other than a feeling to support it, or why we should try to behave in ways that make our individual and human genes more generally less likely to be reproduced.  Further, Dawkins rejects religious belief because “how can you take someone seriously who likes to believe something because he finds it comforting?” yet this line of argument shows that religion – including Christianity – makes people happy, while also admitting that secularism does not.  It is what Dawkins calls “bracing truth” that makes people unhappy, not Christian beliefs, even if they are false.  As Dawkins himself wrote “the universe doesn’t owe is condolence or consolation; it doesn’t owe you a nice warm feeling inside…” yet for many people this is precisely what they get from religion.  While Dawkins claims that “I care passionately about the truth because it is a beautiful thing and enables us to live a better life…” he fails to justify these claims.  What is beautiful about the truth of evolution through natural selection and what helps us to live a better life about confronting our own insignificance in the meaningless infinity of the universe? This shows that the secularist Richard Dawkins was wrong in claiming that Christianity makes people unhappy. 

    Of course, Freud and Dawkins make sensible points when they argue that religion and particularly Christian beliefs make some individuals and some societies unhappy.  Freud is right that the guilt engendered by faith can be corrosive, leading to the state of “soul sickness” identified by both St Augustine and much later by William James.  Yet, religious faith, an ineffable sense of happiness and peace, hope and a second chance at purposeful living can sometimes be precipitated by such a state of despair, when it triggers a conversion experience.  St Augustine describes how he was saved by such an experience and James documented many other cases where religion – most usually Christianity – made somebody happy when no dosage of antidepressants were ever likely to work. Further, while Christianity can make individuals unhappy, social surveys have shown that on average religion makes people happier, more socially engaged, healthier and more long-lived.  As the Heritage Foundation Report (2006) states “a steadily growing body of evidence from the social sciences demonstrates that religious practice benefits individuals, families and communities, and thus the nation as a whole.”  Of course, Dawkins is right that religions can and have caused bitter wars and can and have fostered appalling abuse.  Christopher Hitchens powerfully enumerated the instances when the Roman Catholic Church alone has caused conflict and suffering.  Yet religion is also a force for good in societies, encouraging people to care for the weak and vulnerable, educate children, improve prison conditions and be more inclusive.  While it is difficult to do an objective cost-benefit analysis, Jurgen Habermas is right in highlighting that secular societies develop what he called “an awareness of what is missing” as they enter a “moral wasteland” in which society becomes “normatively mute” and where individuals lack any sense that their actions matter one way or another, as well as any hope beyond death.  Charles Taylor is right that secularism makes death into a taboo in a way that creates mental health issues, and that societies are forced to replace religious values and mores with secular equivalents – which lack the advantages of relative transparency and transcending human borders.  It follows that notwithstanding the unhappiness that religion undoubtedly causes some individuals and societies, on balance the effect of religion is to make people more rather than less happy.  As regards Christianity – given the scale of abuse and conflict that it has caused – the scales might be more even than in the case of other religions, yet the scale might well be proportionate given that Christianity is the largest world religion. Also, it is probably fair to say that if religion did not cause the abuse and the conflict, then something else would have.  Atheistic societies such as the USSR and Communist China were not marked for being inclusive and peaceful!   Human beings tend to cause abuse, conflict and unhappiness… and need little encouragement from religion to do so. 

    In conclusion, Secularists who say that Christianity is a source of unhappiness are wrong.  While Christianity and other religions undoubtedly cause some individuals unhappiness, as well as giving cover to abuse and conflict on multiple occasions, the net effect of religions is to promote human happiness, even if this might well be the result of promoting comforting delusions.  The continuing dominance of religious worldviews suggests that they offer societies an evolutionary advantage, perhaps in helping people to be satisfied with not knowing the answers to the “big questions,” and this confirms that societies are happier and function better with religions than without them.

    ‘Critically discuss the theodicy presented by John Hick” [40]

    / vardycharlotte / Leave a comment

    John Hick presented his “Theodicy for Today” through “Evil and the God of Love” (1966).  Here, Hick explored the history of the so-called Irenaean Theodicy in the work of Origen and Schleiermacher as well as Irenaeus, then crafting a new version of this theodicy which he felt more suited as a response to the logical problem of evil and suffering than the traditional Augustinian Theodicy given the atrocities of the mid 20th Century.  While Hick’s theodicy is persuasive, it does not provide a complete defence of God’s omnipotence and omnibenevolence. 

    Firstly, Hick adapted Origen’s idea that human beings were created in God’s image but with the potential to grow into His likeness through a life that is a “schoolroom for the soul”.  While he rejected the “exegetically dubious” distinction between image and likeness in the Hebrew – as this is more probably designed for emphasis in the original poetry than intended to make two separate points – he argued that there is truth in the claim that human beings exist on two levels, as BIOS – sophisticated animals – and as ZOE – morally and spiritually unique beings.  Hick took Keats’ phrase to argue that our lives are a “vale of soul-making”, through suffering we grow and develop from BIOS towards ZOE, meaning that suffering (and Hick includes others’ suffering as well as our own) has a purpose and is spiritually good for us, so plausibly part of the Best Possible World that an Omnipotent, Omnibenevolent God would have created.  Later, Richard Swinburne agreed with Hick, presenting his own Irenaean Theodicy which also contended that we learn from suffering, becoming better people and more able to use the freedom that God has given us.  Swinburne likened God to a parent, allowing his children to suffer in order that they might learn to make decisions independently.  This aspect of Hick’s Irenaean Theodicy seems persuasive, because there is no doubt that people do become stronger and more spiritual as a result of the suffering which is an inescapable part of life, however Hick fails to account for the extent of suffering, which most people would agree is gratuitous.  For example, William Rowe identified suffering which could and should have been eliminated by an omnipotent and omnibenevolent God, suggesting that innocent child suffering (such as in Rowe’s example of Sue) disproves the existence of such a God.  Ivan Karamazov would surely have agreed that the degree to which young children suffer is far beyond anything that could be proportionate to the ends of helping us develop spiritually.  While Hick appealed to the “epistemic distance” between God and human beings and while Swinburne agreed that we are in no position to know that God could have prevented such suffering without causing or permitting something worse, retreating into mystery at the first sign of difficulty is not an adequate philosophical response.  Because of this, Hick’s theodicy fails to defend God’s omnipotence and omnibenevolence in the light of his allowing gratuitous, innocent, child suffering.

    Secondly, Hick reasoned that God might be justified in allowing some people to suffer more than others – even if some people were broken and afflicted and so unable to develop spiritually as a result – if he provided eternal recompense for unjust suffering after death.  For example, God could be both omnipotent and omnibenevolent, even if some children die embittered and afflicted after suffering years of bone cancer if God made up for it in heaven.  Nevertheless, this is unconvincing because there is no adequate theory of what heaven could be like in order to justify God in this way.  In “Death and the Afterlife” 1978 Hick recognised the problems with standard Christian doctrine in that it relies on future physical resurrection, which is neither scientifically plausible nor fair to those whose bodies are either extremely young, extremely old or dispersed/destroyed.  Instead, Hick chose to focus on St Paul’s teaching, which suggests that resurrection is spiritual before the soul is re-clothed in a spiritual body, which is then rewarded or punished appropriately.  St Paul wrote that “The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable… it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.” 1 Corinthians 15:42, 44 Nevertheless, as Hick later realised, this account of life after death is problematic because it relies on the soul being separable from the body, albeit temporarily, when there is almost no evidence supporting substance dualism.  It also relies on all our human identity residing in an immaterial “soul”, so that “I” could be re-created into a new body and what happened to that body would still serve as just reward and punishment, incentive and disincentive.  Hick developed his famous Replica Theory to defend the possibility that a person could still be a person despite a break in the spatio-temporal-continuity that philosophers like Derek Parfit rely on to determine identity. Yet so much of human identity relates to our body that even if we accept that a replica could still be me (and ignore the possibilities of multiple replicas etc) this is difficult to accept.  Would our spiritual body be male or female, heterosexual or homosexual, old or young, Black or Asian?  If no, then how can a reward applied to some idealised and unrecognisable form really recompense for my unjust suffering… but if yes, then the spiritual body theory has few advantages over physical resurrection theory because inequalities and injustices would persist after death and heaven would not be an eternal or perfect reward but rather an endurance test which would do little but prolong the memories of suffering in this life in another location.  In the end, Hick abandoned replica theory and belief in spiritual bodies and came to believe in a form of reincarnation, showing that he didn’t believe that this aspect of his own theodicy was convincing.  It follows that because Hick’s theodicy fails to explain how an omnipotent, omnibenevolent God could make up for unjust suffering after death, it fails to provide a complete defence against the logical problem of evil.

    On the other hand, Hick’s theodicy is more persuasive than the classical Augustinian Theodicy.  It does not rely on a literal interpretation of Genesis 2-3, avoids focusing on Original Sin and allows for evil to be real and not only “privation boni”, all of which make Hick’s approach more palatable in the 20th Century.  Further, Hick draws on modern science in his account of how we develop from BIOS into ZOE and in his beliefs about life after death and the impossibility of standard physical resurrection, which makes his theodicy more acceptable to a broader audience than standard Christian doctrine.  Nevertheless, a big weakness of Hick’s approach is that it fails to account for the suffering of animals.  As Rowe pointed out, the suffering of animals like the fawn he used in his example is endemic in nature.  The whole evolutionary process, which Hick accepts as characterising creation, depends upon the intense and gratuitous suffering of life-forms who have no possibility of growing or developing spiritually as a result, or of experiencing a heavenly recompense.  Hick seems to ignore and then sidestepped this question completely.  While Swinburne confronted the issue of animal suffering and included it in his version of the Irenaean Theodicy, he did no more than to speculate that animals might suffer less intensely and/or learn something from suffering, showing the inadequacy of this type of theodicy with respect to animal suffering.  Another weakness of Hick’s approach is that it defends a very limited version of omnipotence in God if he had to use suffering – and such intense suffering – as the means for human beings to grow from BIOS into ZOE.  As JL Mackie had already pointed out in “Evil and Omnipotence” (1955) theodicies which suggest that we learn from suffering assume that God could not have designed a better and more efficient way for humans to learn or created human beings with no need to learn in the first place. A God with such limitations would not reasonably be described as omnipotent.  While Hick is far from being alone in limiting God’s omnipotence to being able to do what is logically possible, Mackie’s objection to his theodicy is reasonable. 

    In conclusion, Hick’s theodicy is more persuasive than many older theodicies, but does not provide such a complete defence of God’s omnipotence and omnibenevolence as even St Augustine did.  Hick’s God may be benevolent, but He is extremely limited in power.  Further, while Hick’s theodicy gains strength from avoiding Biblical literalism, in moving away from the Bible and Christian doctrine in some respects, it is also weakened by not being acceptable to the mainstream Church.  Also, Hick fails to explain the extent and unfair distribution of suffering or provide an account of the afterlife that would serve as “eschatological justification”, making up for unfairness in this life, both of which leave this theodicy open to criticism. 

    Gaunilo successfully defeats Anselm’s Ontological Argument. Discuss. [40]

    / vardycharlotte / Leave a comment

    St Anselm presented his ontological argument in Proslogion books 2 and 3.  He began with a quotation from Psalm 14:1 “the fool says in his heart there is no God”, reasoning that existence is part of the definition of God, so that anybody who denies God’s existence is asserting a contradiction and so a fool.  Gaunilo, a contemporary of St Anselm, responded in his wittily titled “on behalf of the fool”, rejecting Anselm’s reasoning systematically and concluding that atheists are not necessarily fools.  Although St Anselm and Gaunilo were operating within different worldviews and with difference concepts of what existence entails, on balance and because Gaunilo’s more modern worldview dominates today, Gaunilo successfully defeats St Anselm’s ontological argument. 

    Firstly, Gaunilo is successful in pointing out that the atheist can recognise the word “God” without necessarily holding the entire concept of God in intellectu. He wrote “this being is said to be in my understanding already, only because I understand what is said.”  Whereas St Anselm asserts that the atheist, in recognising the word God understands that God is “that than which nothing greater can be conceived of” and – because existence is a perfection – necessarily exists in re while simultaneously denying God’s existence, Gaunilo suggests that people often recognise a word without fully understanding what it refers to, as may be the case with God. Gaunilo later elaborates, explaining that as Anselm admits that God is unlike any other thing, it must be impossible for any person to understand what “God” is, because our understanding of new objects is usually built out of like objects. This is persuasive, as Aquinas would later agree [Summa Theologica 1,2,1] because God’s nature is to be mysterious and ineffable, so resisting all attempts to define him, let alone analyse that definition to determine whether necessary existence is part of it. Gaunilo continues by writing “I have in my understanding all manner of unreal objects, having absolutely no existence in themselves” – examples of such could be Gruffalos or unicorns – and he suggests that it would be possible to hold an idea of God who doesn’t exist in intellectu.  This also is persuasive because, as Kant later wrote, “Whatever, therefore, our concept of an object may contain, we must always step outside it, in order to attribute to it existence…”  Existential statements must be synthetic and capable of verification through the senses; it is not possible to analyse something, even God, into existence.  While it is clear that Gaunilo (and later Kant) assume existence to refer to existence in the phenomenal world of time and space rather than to a non-contradictory concept or “clear and distinct idea” as Anselm (and later Descartes) did, it is Gaunilo’s worldview which dominates today and this supports the success of Gaunilo’s argument in defeating Anselm’s ontological argument.

    Secondly, Gaunilo is successful in pointing out that the idea of God in intellectu exists prior to the existence of God in re being realised.  He used St Anselm’s (and St Augustine’s) example of a painter and painting to make this point, reasoning that the idea of the painting exists in the mind of the painter before paint is applied to canvas. He wrote “The picture, before it is made, is contained in the artificer’s art itself; and any such thing, existing in the art of an artificer, is nothing but a part of his understanding itself.”  In the same way, for Gaunilo the idea of God exists in the mind primarily and before the reality of God is admitted.  This suggests that the atheist could have the idea of God in their mind separately from the necessary reality of God, leaving the possibility that God could only be the idea of a necessarily existing being and not a necessarily existing being.  This links to Aristotle’s concept of the formal cause; the sculptor may have the form of the sculpture in his mind, but until he acts as an efficient cause on the material cause of the stone, the sculpture can’t be said to be real.  Similarly, the soul as the formal cause of the body can’t be understood to exist independently of a body, in the way that a wax seal can’t exist without wax.  Of course, Plato would disagree, arguing that forms are more real than material objects which reflect them, because they are complete and unchanging. However, Anselm’s platonic worldview has been replaced by the more Aristotelian worldview of Gaunilo today.  Few would accept that ideas are more real than material objects, so that most would agree with Kant when he wrote “If then, I try to conceive a being, as the highest reality (without any defect), the question still remains, whether it exists or not. For though in my concept there may be wanting nothing of the possible real content of a thing in general, something is wanting in its relation to my whole state of thinking, namely, that the knowledge of that object should be possible a posteriori also…” The painting is only an idea until paint meets canvas in the real world… and however perfect it may be in concept won’t change that fact. Therefore, Gaunilo is successful in defeating Anselm’s ontological argument, because he identifies Anselm’s failure to establish God’s existence a posteriori as well as a priori. 

    Of course, Anselm rejected Gaunilo’s criticisms one by one in his “Responsio” reasoning that Gaunilo must be a fool if he believed that somebody could recognise the word God without appreciating that it refers to a supremely perfect being which – logically – must have the property of necessary existence.  A person saying that a triangle has four sides could only be an idiot; Anselm cannot accept that an atheist is anything other than a fool.  Further, Anselm rejected Gaunilo’s (mis)use of his analogy of the painter and painting, pointing out that while the idea of any normal object may well exist separately from and prior to its reality, this cannot apply to God who exists necessarily.  In God’s case and God’s case only, the idea and the reality must be simultaneous and identical.  However, Gaunilo’s reduction of St Anselm’s ontological argument to absurdity through the perfect island remains more persuasive than St Anselm’s indignant ripostes in the Responsio.  This is because Gaunilo appeals to common sense when he wrote that “If a man should try to prove to me by such reasoning that this island truly exists, and that its existence should no longer be doubted, either I should believe that he was jesting, or I know not which I ought to regard as the greater fool: myself, supposing that I should allow this proof; or him, if he should suppose that he had established with any certainty the existence of this island.”  In the same way Kant is persuasive when he appeals to common sense, writing “a man might as well imagine that he could become richer in knowledge by mere ideas, as a merchant in capital, if, in order to improve his position, he were to add a few noughts to his cash account.”  We all know that we can’t analyse or think anything into existence, whether holiday islands or money! 

    In conclusion, Gaunilo’s criticisms of St Anselm’s ontological argument successfully defeat this attempt to prove God’s existence from reason alone… that is, for those who share Gaunilo’s modern worldview.  Of course, those with a Platonist worldview – like Anselm himself and Rene Descartes – would disagree.  As Norman Malcolm wrote “in those complex systems of thought, those ‘language games’, God has the status of a necessary being. Who can doubt that?” and yet claiming that God exist surely refers to more than a rule of one language-game?  As Gaunilo rightly pointed out, rooting our concept of what exists in mere ideas is more likely to be foolish than rooting existence in shared experience.