The Problem of Evil - Common Sense Atheism
The Problem of Evil - Common Sense Atheism
The Problem of Evil - Common Sense Atheism
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154 Notes<br />
14. But here is a defense <strong>of</strong> the second thesis (I am quoting, with his permission,<br />
a paragraph <strong>of</strong> a letter from Alvin Plantinga):<br />
I’m inclined to believe that there is a tw<strong>of</strong>old problem <strong>of</strong> evil for atheists.<br />
First, I believe there wouldn’t be any such thing as right and wrong at<br />
all, and hence no such thing as evil, if theism were false. (I know, I<br />
know, theism is if true, necessary.) But second, even if that weren’t true<br />
(even if there could be such a thing as right and wrong, given atheism)<br />
naturalism can’t accommodate genuinely horrifying evil, as in cases like<br />
‘‘Sophie’s choice’’. It’s not just that we can’t explain people’s achieving<br />
that level <strong>of</strong> depravity in terms <strong>of</strong> ignorance, the struggle for survival, the<br />
reptilian brain, and so on (though it’s true that we can’t); it’s rather that<br />
there couldn’t be evil at that level if naturalism were true. (If naturalism<br />
were true, people might view such things as displaying the level <strong>of</strong> evil<br />
they actually do display; but they’d be mistaken.) <strong>The</strong>re could be evil <strong>of</strong><br />
that appalling degree only if something like the Christian story is true:<br />
there is such a person as God, who has displayed unthinkable love in the<br />
Cross (incarnation and atonement) in order to bestow a stunning benefit<br />
(a benefit that beggars both description and imagination) upon creatures<br />
who have turned their backs on him; but some <strong>of</strong> us, like Satan, take as<br />
our explicit goal destroying and defacing what God loves, and promoting<br />
and devoting ourselves to what God hates (as with Satan in Paradise Lost.)<br />
<strong>The</strong>re is a level <strong>of</strong> evil only that sort <strong>of</strong> action and character can reach; and<br />
that level <strong>of</strong> evil isn’t possible in a naturalistic universe.<br />
Anthony Burgess was, I think, saying something similar—from the<br />
point <strong>of</strong> view <strong>of</strong> a lapsed Catholic—when he wrote, ‘‘<strong>The</strong>re is no A. J. P.<br />
Taylor-ish explanation for what happened in Eastern Europe during the<br />
war’’ (quoted by Martin Amis in Koba the Dread, 196).<br />
15. An analogy might be the relation between, on the one hand, philosophical<br />
problems about what metaphysicians call ‘freedom’ when they are discussing<br />
the ontological grounds <strong>of</strong> moral responsibility and, on the other,<br />
philosophical problems about what political philosophers call ‘freedom’<br />
when they are discussing the limits a state should place on the actions <strong>of</strong><br />
its citizens. What do these two classes <strong>of</strong> problems have to do with each<br />
other? Not nothing, maybe, but not a great deal either.<br />
16. Here is a simple example <strong>of</strong> how one who embraced this method might<br />
report the ‘‘discovery’’ that the problems considered by two philosophers<br />
were the same. ‘‘Eighteenth-Century Jack thinks that existence is comprehensible<br />
only if there is a God, and he thinks that the Lisbon earthquake is<br />
prima facie incompatible with the existence <strong>of</strong> God. He believes, therefore,<br />
that evil (in the guise <strong>of</strong> the Lisbon earthquake) is a prima facie threat to<br />
the comprehensibility <strong>of</strong> existence. Twenty-First-Century Jill thinks that<br />
existence is comprehensible only if human behavior is intelligible, and she