John Hick and Human Progress

An interesting philosophical question concerns whether human beings are making progress.  Great thinkers have fallen on either side of the issue, as you can see here.

Some who take the negative view on this issue use lack of human moral progress as an objection to theism.  After all, wouldn’t God want human beings to improve?  And, being omnipotent, wouldn’t he find a way to ensure that happened?  Thus, the notion that God exists seems to be undermined by the fact that human beings are not making any moral progress.

I happen to agree with the no-moral-progress thesis.  I believe that human beings in the early 21st century are no better, and no worse, than we were a century ago, just prior to the first of two hideous world wars.  And we are no better or worse than we were during the Renaissance, the Dark Ages, or the Iron Age.   From a moral standpoint, human nature has remained constant—since the Fall, anyway—notwithstanding salient eruptions of evil (e.g., the Mongol conquests, the Nazis, etc.) and bursts of goodness (e.g., the birth of the university, the abolition of Western slavery, etc.).

But granting the no-progress thesis regarding the human race generally, it doesn’t follow that there is no significant human moral progress at all.  Just because the human race doesn’t improve as a whole, this doesn’t mean there is no individual progress.  On the contrary, I think such progress is the norm throughout the world.  And it is here that we see the moral work of God on a global scale.

In his classic book Evil and the God of Love, philosopher of religion John Hick insightfully addressed this issue:

Because this is a pilgrimage with in the life of each individual, rather than a racial evolution, the progressive fulfillment of God’s purpose does not entail any corresponding progressive improvement in the moral state of the world. . . .  It is probable that human life was lived on much the same moral plane two thousand years ago or four thousand years ago as it is today.  But nevertheless during this period uncounted millions of souls have been through the experience of earthly life, and God’s purpose has gradually moved towards its fulfillment within each one of them, rather than within a human aggregate composed of different units in different generations. (Evil and the God of Love [Harper & Row, 1966], p. 292)

Hick was a religious pluralist and a universalist, but one need not affirm either pluralism or universalism to see the sense in his proposal here—that God works redemptively in the individual lives of people—perhaps the overarching majority of people worldwide—and this is consistent with the disappointing fact that the human race shows no signs of moral progress.  In fact, Hick even suggests that the lack of aggregate human improvement makes for a better environment for individual moral growth.  After all, as free agents, we all must choose to pursue the good and live faithfully before God, all the while resisting temptation, dealing with strife and disappointment, recuperating from failure, and persevering through suffering in order to do so.  In short, the struggle against evil is precisely how we grow in this world.  This is Hick’s so-called “soul-making” theodicy—an approach to the problem of evil that I find particularly compelling philosophically.  Moreover, it enjoys some biblical support as well, as is evident in such passages as James 1:2-4, Rom. 5:3-4, and 1 Pet. 1:6-7.  While I don’t regard this theodicy as a final and complete solution to the problem of evil, I do think it is an essential part of a Christian response to the problem.

There is also a moral-psychological (or, one might say, existential) benefit in this way of thinking about the human condition.  For if God is ever at work in people, accomplishing his work of redemption in the lives of individuals, then I need not despair over the “current state of the world” or lose hope when considering what appears to be a general moral decline of our society.  Nor should those of us who work to improve human institutions and social structures despair if we see no net improvements.  For God is still at work in the lives of those we meet.  He always has been and he always will be.

Pain, Autonomy, and God

An article of mine entitled “Free Will and Soul Making” was recently published in Philosophia Christi.  My thesis is that the free will defense and soul-making theodicy are complementary, mutually dependent approaches to the problem of evil.  Below is a little dialogue featuring imaginary characters (as realistic as the names might seem) which explores the whole idea of embracing both approaches rather than opting for just one or the other.

PILGESE:  Hello there, Gelespi, how are you today?

GELESPI:  Doing fine, Pilgese.  And you?

PILGESE:  Fine as well, though I’ve been saddened by the news of a recent tragedy, and it has me thinking about theodicy.

GELESPI:  In what respect?

PILGESE:  The greater-good theodicy in particular.  I’m bothered by how some people talk of God intending painful circumstances to bring about greater goods.

GELESPI:  Hmm…  And just why does this bother you?

PILGESE:  I think there is something fundamentally mistaken in thinking that God intentionally causes any pain.

GELESPI:  And why is it wrong for God to cause pain?

PILGESE:  That’s not intuitively obvious to you?

GELESPI:  Not at all.  What makes it so obvious to you?

PILGESE:  Well, because pain is evil.

GELESPI:  Why is pain evil?  It is unpleasant, yes.  But unpleasantness does not imply evil.

PILGESE:  Pain is a lack of goodness, a departure from the way things should be.  And this is the essence of evil.

GELESPI:  But that can’t be right, since this implies that every time I lift weights or fast, then I’m doing evil.  Surely it’s not evil to lift weights or fast?

PILGESE:  That’s different, because you’re imposing that pain on yourself, as opposed to someone else causing your pain.

GELESPI:  And how is that relevant?

PILGESE:  Because self-inflicted pain is an autonomous choice.

GELESPI:  So you mean to say that it’s wrong for God to cause our pain because we’re not autonomously choosing it, even if that pain makes us better?

PILGESE:  Exactly.

GELESPI:  And why is it okay for me to autonomously choose to cause myself pain for my betterment but not for God to autonomously choose to do so?

PILGESE:  Because only you can autonomously choose for yourself.  That’s the nature of autonomy.  It’s the right of self-determination, as opposed to determination of others.

GELESPI:  But where does such a right come from?  Doesn’t this assume something like self-ownership?

PILGESE:  Of course.

GELESPI:  But, biblically speaking, we are not our own.  God made us, thought us into being, as it were, out of nothing.  Thus, God owns us in a way that we do not even own ourselves.  As the Apostle Paul himself says, “you are not your own” (1 Cor. 6:19), and the psalmist says, “the earth is the Lord’s and everything in it, the world and all who live in it” (Ps. 24:1).

PILGESE:  Yes, I grant that God owns us in that general sense.  But when he made us as libertarian free creatures, he endowed us with self-ownership and, thus, moral autonomy.

GELESPI:  And how do you know that?

PILGESE:  Well, that is just what it means to be free in a libertarian sense.

GELESPI:  You are confusing two issues here:  the definition of freedom and what might be called moral propriety rights.  Let’s grant the libertarian definition of freedom as the power of contrary choice, which includes a denial of universal theological determinism.  It doesn’t follow from this that God has no right to inflict pain on his creatures, so long as his intentions are always to do good, such as to build character and bring those creatures into better relationship with God.

PILGESE:  But there are many instances of suffering that do not bring about such greater goods.  This implies that God is horribly inefficient and gratuitous with the pain he inflicts.

GELESPI:  First of all, you are assuming you know what God-inflicted suffering does or does not result in greater good.  For all you know, the apparently gratuitous suffering does contribute to greater goods, if only in the next world.  Secondly, to assert that God can or does inflict some suffering does not commit one to saying that God is responsible for all of the suffering in the world.  Remember, we’re granting a libertarian view of freedom here, and this allows us to explain at least some of the worst evils, and perhaps the origin of evil, as being the result of the abuse of creaturely freedom.

PILGESE:  Hmm…  So you seem to be using two different approaches to the problem of evil: the free will defense and the greater-good theodicy.  Can you do that?

GELESPI:  Why not?

PILGESE:  Well, most theists use one or the other, not both.

GELESPI:  Why go with the crowd, Pilgese?  If both approaches are useful to address different aspects of the issue, then it seems foolish to ignore one of them.

PILGESE:  Good point, Gelespi.  I’ll have to give this some thought.

GELESPI:  Thanks.  Glad to be of service.

My Time at the ETS Conference

Its been a good couple of days at the annual Evangelical Theological Society conference here in Providence, Rhode Island.  This morning I presented my paper on the problem of evil—specifically, comparing the free will and soul-making theodicies—and it was received well by the 50-60 folks in attendance, several of whom asked some interesting and helpful questions about my thesis, which is that the two theodicies are properly seen as complimentary (because logically interdependent) approaches to the problem.  I have posted my paper on a separate page on this blog, which you will find on the right side bar.  I’d welcome any comments, pro or con, as I’ll be submitting it for publication soon.

In addition to attending many informative and stimulating (as well as a few ponderous and soporific) paper presentations on assorted issues, from apologetics to gender issues to the hiddenness of God, I’ve been perusing endless book exhibits, chatting on subjects profound and frivolous, getting lost in the labyrinthine convention center halls, and eating far too much food—including fresh, melt-in-your-mouth Atlantic salmon on two occasions.  (Amy’s going to be sick with envy when she reads this.  Sorry, honey!)  Yes, our brand of vegetarian diet—“ovo-pecto-lacto vegetarianism,” to be tiresomely precise—does allow for fish (that’s the “pecto” part).  It also allows for chocolate mousse, by the way.  And I’m paying for it now with some late-night indigestion (belch).  Oh, but it felt so good going down…

Goodnight.

Two Approaches to the Problem of Evil

One of the most challenging issues in the philosophy of religion is the problem of evil.  Put simply, the problem concerns the difficulty of reconciling the reality of evil—from immoral behaviors to diseases and natural disasters—with the existence of an all-powerful and perfectly good God.  If God is almighty, then he can prevent evil, and if God is morally perfect, then presumably he would wantto prevent it.  Yet evil exists—in massive doses, in fact.  On its face, then, the problem amounts to evidence against theism, at least as traditionally construed.  One way out would be to deny God is omnipotent, as Harold Kushner essentially does in his book When Bad Things Happen to Good People.  Another route would be to surrender belief in God’s goodness.  But these approaches contradict the biblical portrait of God.  So, it seems, the theist is in a fix.

Since the ancient philosopher Epicurus first posed the evidential problem of evil, theists have proposed many ways of eluding its logic by contriving “theodicies”—explanations as to why God would permit sin and suffering in this world.  Two of the most well-worn among these are the “free will theodicy” and the “soul-making theodicy.”  Both of these aim to deny the premise that God would not want to allow evil.  Each explains God’s permission of evil in terms of some greater goods that God wanted to achieve in this world. 

According to the free will theodicy the greater goods God desired were the various goods that depend upon human freedom, such as genuine relationships and moral qualities.  But, of course, we have misused our freedom and, well, now things are a mess.  But the risk, so to speak, was worth it, or so say defenders of the free will theodicy.  According to the soul-making theodicy, the greater goods God aims to achieve by permitting evil is higher or “second-order” virtues which can only be displayed in response to evil.  For example, forgiveness requires sin to forgive, perseverance demands difficulty to overcome, and so on.  Such traits as forgiveness, perseverance, patience, compassion, mercy, etc. are good and beautiful virtues, and well worth the price of evil to achieve.  Or so say proponents of the soul-making theodicy.

I think both of these theodicies are helpful in dealing with the problem of evil.  But is either one preferable to or more helpful than the other?  This question has been occupying my mind a bit lately, as I will be giving a presentation on it at next week’s national meeting of the Evangelical Philosophical Society in Providence, Rhode Island, which will be held at the Rhode Island Convention Center.  (Once it is finished, I plan to post my paper on this blog.)  If you’ll be in the New England area from November 18-21, you might want to consider checking out this conference and hearing presentations by some leading lights in the world of Christian philosophy and theology.  It’s not too late to register.  And I also invite you to consider joining the EPS or its sister organization, the Evangelical Theological Society.  In each case, membership is inexpensive and includes a subscription to the society’s journal (Philosophia Christi or the Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society).