A Bad Strategy Against Theological Voluntarism

Makes sense to me

Let's say that theological voluntarism is the view that God's will plays a significant role in matters moral.  (That's not very precise, but there aren't any great definitions in the offing and this is good enough for my purposes).

A common objection is what we might call the "anything goes" objection.  The idea is that if theological voluntarism were true, then God could make it the case that raping babies is morally permissible and good by commanding it, that punching your grandma in the face is a daily obligation, that microwaving cats (or better--dogs) is an act of justice, and so forth.  But of course such acts are wrong--and necessarily so, some think--thus there must be something wrong with theological voluntarism.

To see why this is a bad strategy for objecting to theological voluntarism consider the following propositions:

1. If theological voluntarism were true, then raping a baby might be permissible.
2. If Kant's Categorical Imperative were true, then raping a baby might be permissible.
3. If J.S. Mill's Greatest Happiness Principle were true, then raping a baby might be permissible.
4. If moral relativism were true, then raping a baby might be permissible.

Now consider the following argument against TV and a parity argument against Kant's CI:

1. If TV were true, then raping babies might be permissible.
2. But raping babies can't be permissible.
3. Thus TV is false.

Now consider this parallel:
4. If Kant's CI were true, then raping babies might be permissible.
5. But raping babies can't be permissible.
6. Thus Kant's CI is false.

The questions that need asking are which principle or normative theory is true in the first place and which are contradictory with raping babies being permissible?  (Is 1 true or is 4?)  What the objector to theological voluntarism needs to show is that God could or would will that babies be raped, just as the objector to Kant's CI needs to show that raping babies is inconsistent with the CI.  For it does not obviously follow that if morality is grounded in God's will that there's a possible world (or close possible world) where God wills the raping of babies.

Don't Kill Me: I Was Once a Fetus

Here is a fairly close rendering of Alexander Pruss's brilliantly simple argument against abortion put in the first person.  (I accept full responsibility for any errors, and part of what I say might go slightly beyond what Pruss says in the particular article to which I linked).

Let L name the living organism that came into being as a result of the sperm from my father fertilizing the ovum of my mother nine-months before I was born.

Let A name the only animal sitting in my chair typing: Me.

(1) L never died.

(2) If L never died, then L still exists.

(3) If L still exists, then L is the same animal as A.

(4) Therefore, L is the same animal as A (from 1,2,3).

(5) Therefore, I am the same animal as L (Leibniz's Law).

(6) If I am the same animal as L, then I was once a fetus (embryo, etc).

(7) Therefore, I was once a fetus (from 5,6).

(8) If I was once a fetus, then only reasons which would justify killing me would justify killing the fetus.

(9) Therefore, only reasons which would justify killing me would justify killing the fetus (from 7, 8).

(10) There would have been no sufficient reasons which justified killing me when I was in the womb.
(11) Thus, there would have been no sufficient reasons which justified killing the fetus in the womb (from 9,10).**

*This allows for at least materialism about animals as well as hylomorphism. It's hard to see how it fits with substance dualism wherein I am identical with an immaterial soul.  But then for those who think that they are identical to an immaterial soul, the best move might be to go with Idealism; and Idealism fits much better with religious monotheism than it does with naturalism.

**Pruss's argument does not explicitly go so far as to say that there are no justifiable reasons for abortion.  His argument is focused on the fact that if one killed the fetus one would be killing my mother's fetus, that is, one would be killing me.

The New Testament and Gay Sex: Response #1

This is a critique of philosopher Jeff Cook's opening statement  over at Preston Sprinkle's blog wherein he argues that Christian belief is compatible with the belief that gay sex is not morally wrong.  I have decided to break this down into at least two posts.  This first post will focus on the more philosophical parts of Cook's opening statement.

I will start by looking at some of his remarks which set up the basic framework for his assessment.

Why Our Children Don't Think There Are Moral Facts

Excerpt of Justin McBrayer's opinion piece in the NY Times with my commentary throughout:

What would you say if you found out that our public schools were teaching children that it is not true that it’s wrong to kill people for fun or cheat on tests? Would you be surprised?

TB: No.

I was. 

TB: You shouldn't have been.

As a philosopher, I already knew that many college-aged students don’t believe in moral facts. While there are no national surveys quantifying this phenomenon, philosophy professors with whom I have spoken suggest that the overwhelming majority of college freshmen in their classrooms view moral claims as mere opinions that are not true or are true only relative to a culture.

TB: That comports fairly well with my own experience.  

What I didn’t know was where this attitude came from. Given the presence of moral relativism in some academic circles, some people might naturally assume that philosophers themselves are to blame. But they aren’t. There are historical examples of philosophers who endorse a kind of moral relativism, dating back at least to Protagoras who declared that “man is the measure of all things,” and several who deny that there are any moral facts whatsoever. But such creatures are rare. Besides, if students are already showing up to college with this view of morality, it’s very unlikely that it’s the result of what professional philosophers are teaching. 

TB: It is true that most philosophers seem to be moral realists and not relativists (relativism may or may not be a species of anti-realism depending on how one defines moral realism).  But it could be that there are a few intellectuals who hold a large degree of sway over the intelligentsia more generally.  Richard Rorty comes to mind as an anti-realist (not just about moral truths but truths more generally) whose writings have been  quite influential even if not in philosophy.  In addition, though it is true that most students entering college are not influenced directly by philosophers, that does not rule out that they have been influenced indirectly way downstream.

So where is the view coming from?

A Response to a Response by Glenn Peoples on Divine Command Theory

Discussion here.

GP:  You do not describe an alternative to experiencing the feeling of being commanded, but rather you say “I often experience a requirement that seems generated from…” In other words you say that you experience where the obligation comes from. 

TB:  I wouldn't put it that way, unless a seeming is sufficient for an experiencing.  When I feel myself to have a duty/obligation/requirement it often seems to come from (feels like it's coming from?) whomever or whatever I have the duty/obligation/requirement towards.  I think you've offended me; I slap you in the face.  I then realize I was mistaken and you hadn't offended me.  I've done something morally wrong--I realize I've wronged you--and there was something about you such that what I did was wrong.  It feels like I've in some way violated you.  Another example: my house is starting to burn.  My children are in there.  I have a moral duty to save them.  I feel the pull of that duty.  The feeling of that pull doesn't feel like the pull of having been commanded.

Instead of responding point by point, let me just reconstruct what I take your argument to be and respond to it (hopefully this is a fair rendering):

1. If x seems exactly like having been commanded to A, then x probably is having been commanded to A.
2. Having a moral obligation to A seems exactly like having been commanded to A.
3. So having a moral obligation to A probably is having been commanded to A.
4. The best explanation for this identity is a theistic one.

An Argument for Divine Command Theory Rejected

Glenn Peoples is starting a series of posts and arguments for a Divine Command Theory of ethics.  As I understand DCTheories of ethics they ground moral rightness and wrongness in God's commands.  On the paradigm case (or perhaps on the strongest formulation) the property of some action A being obligatory just is the property of being commanded by God to A; the property of A being impermissible is the property of being forbidden by God to A; and the property of A being merely permissible (permissible but not obligatory) is the property of God neither commanding nor forbidding A.  From Peoples's own description, this seems more or less his understanding as well.

Here now is a sketch of his argument for DCT in his own words (naturally, I'm leaving a lot out, but I think this does justice to the basic argument):

Are all Wrongs Wrongings?

It seems to me plausible that all wrong actions are the wrongings of someone or something.  To wrong someone or something is not to live up to the demands of the worth of that thing or individual.  Disrespect is a good example of a wronging, but disrespecting is certainly not the only way that one can wrong another.  Disrespecting someone--in the immoral instance--is failing to treat the person as having the appropriate worth.  A murderer, as well, is failing to acknowledge the worth of someone.  So the worth of individuals (and perhaps other things) is central to ethics (or should be!).  In contrast, if Utilitarianism is true then there are no wrongings, since the only goods on the Utilitarian view are goods which can be maximized such as subjective, desiderative states like pleasure.  There are right actions and wrong actions, but there's no place in the theory for wrongings or the violating of natural rights.  (There are legal rights for utilitarians but not natural or inherent rights).

Is Booing at a Sporting Event Wrong?

*UPDATE*
A colleague asks (rhetorically?): "So it's OK to boo, if it gets you want you want?"

Answer: No.  I'm not a leftist (that the ends justify the means is false).  Nonetheless, if what one wants is not immoral, then it is morally OK to boo (provided that there are no evil effects caused by the booing which outweigh the good, such as causing the Steelers to lose).

According to this recent item in the news, some colleges are encouraging their fans not to boo at soccer matches, insinuating that booing is always (or at least often) unsportsmanlike.  Are these colleges right?

Would Jesus Support the Death Penalty?

Jonathan Merritt, writing for The Atlantic, asks, "Would Jesus Support the Death Penalty?"  For Christians, the question is equivalent to, "Would God Support the Death Penalty?" which raises the more general question, "Should We Support the Death Penalty?"

What do we mean by this question?  We might be asking whether capital punishment (CP) is permissible (in theory) or whether it's intrinsically wrong.  We might be asking whether it's not only permissible, but also obligatory.  We might also be asking whether, even if permissible, CP is overall good or better than alternative punishments for certain crimes.  Or we might be skipping past these questions to the question of whether we should vote for legislators who would implement it.

That it's permissible (in theory) seems to be well supported by the following propositions, one of which only believers in the Western faiths will find appealing:

1. In the Old Testament, God assigns capital punishment for certain offenses; thus there have been times when CP is permissible; thus, in theory, it's permissible.
2. If one knowingly murders an innocent person, one gives up one's right not to have one's life taken in return; if one gives up one's right not to have one's life taken in return for a murder, then CP is permissible in theory; thus CP is permissible in theory.

I find 1 and 2 hard to resist, but Merritt seems opposed to them and against CP in theory as well as in practice. Let's see some of his evidence against it:

Christians who support the death penalty often cite passages from the Old Testament that allowed for capital punishment. But Jesus told his followers not to observe the Jewish law that allowed for retributive justice: “You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’ But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.”

As theologian Benjamin Corey says, “It is not possible to argue a Christian case in support of the death penalty while citing passages from the Hebrew scriptures, because this will put one at odds with Jesus himself.”

Theologian Benjamin Corey appears to be flirting dangerously close to Marcionism: Is it "not POSSIBLE to argue [for] a Christian case in support of the death penalty while citing passages from Hebrew Scripture"?  Surely that is putting things too strongly.  Here are possible interpretations of Jesus's remarks on lex talionis, not all of which seem impossible to square with a proper interpretation of the Old Testament:

1. Jesus is denying that retributive justice is permissible.
2. Jesus is denying that retributive justice is obligatory.
3. Jesus is denying that retributive justice is obligatory and permissible.
4. Jesus is denying that retributive justice is obligatory and permissible for individuals not acting in the capacity of a state official.
And so forth.

My own view, which I shall not argue for here, is that Jesus is denying that one should ever act simply for the sake of retribution.  Jesus is focusing on the heart and the reasons why we do things.  He is against a certain mindset of reciprocity.  If that is correct, then Jesus is not here denying that it's ever permissible for a state to put people to death (which is a good thing, since the opposite would be hard to square with Romans).

Many forget that Jesus once served as a one-man jury on a death-penalty case. In a famous New Testament story, an adulterous woman was dragged to Jesus’ feet. The woman was guilty of a capital offense and had been caught in the act by at least one witness. The law mandated her death but Jesus prescribed a different response: “Let whoever is without sin cast the first stone.” He was teaching that only a perfect being—only God—should have power over death and life.

The problem with taking this passage to rule out CP gets to a problem that CP abolitionists almost always ignore in this discussion: If this story rules out CP, it would seem to rule out all punishments as well.   Let those of you without sin sentence someone to life in prison.  Let those of you without sin sentence someone to five years in prison.  Let those of you without sin....  I take that as a reductio ad absurdum of the argument which interprets the passage as condemning any instances of CP.

There’s no reason to believe that Jesus or these early Christian leaders would feel any different about the matter today with our broken justice system. The most reliable predictor of whether someone will be sentenced to death is not the amount of evidence, but the race of the victim. Geography is also an important factor, which is why a handful of counties are responsible for most of the executions in the United States. And then of course wealth is a factor, as almost all death-row inmates could not afford their own attorney. 

No doubt race and money have some influence in legal matters (but the statistics he cites fail, by themselves, to give an actual argument that the explanation for the majority of the statistics is unjust discrimination). But of course there are all sorts of irrelevant factors that influence prosecutors and juries: how attractive one is, whether one shows emotional displays of empathy in the court room, whether one is a woman (far fewer women convicted of murder receive the death penalty compared to men), and so on.  But this does nothing to show that CP, any more than any other punishment, is impermissible.  At best, what the statistics show (if they can show that there is unjust discrimination), is that there are jurisdictions which need to correct their punitive practices more generally.

There are also practical reasons to oppose the death penalty. [TB: Wasn't the stuff about race a practical reason?] Studies show that death-penalty cases are as much as 10 times more expensive to adjudicate than comparable cases. And the risk of executing a person unnecessarily is real.  

Of COURSE it costs more to adjudicate CP cases, but that's a GOOD thing.  The reason it costs more is because of all the appeals, appeals which are there to make sure the person is guilty.  Yes, "the risk of executing an [innocent] person unnecessarily is real," but so the risk of imprisoning a person FOR LIFE who, unlike the person on death row, is not afforded multiple appeals.

Following Claiborne’s encounter with Haslam, I joined Claiborne in visiting death-row inmates atRiverbend Maximum Security Institution. I spent more than an hour conversing with these men, four of whom have execution dates scheduled. I could feel the weight of desperate prayers and desperate pleas of desperate prisoners.
While I sat talking with them, Dear’s words came to mind: “Killing people who kill people is not the way to show that killing people is wrong.”

Question: Would they have been praying if they were sentenced to life in prison?  Perhaps we'll never know, but the above should dispel the notion that there is any merit to the argument that some U.S. Christians give about "needing more time to repent."

It is true that murdering people who murder people is not the only way to show that murdering people is wrong.  One could also show that murder is wrong by having them watch a murder on Youtube.  (Of course, most people don't NEED to be shown it's wrong to know that it's wrong!)  But not punishing people EVER (which Merrick's argument seems to entail) is also not a way to show people that what they did was wrong.  What eliminating punishments would do is to mislead people into thinking that actions don't have consequences.

It brings to mind one of the best scenes from Breaking Bad (no major spoilers here):

So do I believe in CP?  Yes, I guess I do.  I think it should be rare.  It should only be for acts so heinous that society puts its ultimate stamp of diapprobation on them as a way of standing in solidarity with those who have received horrific acts of injustice.  Stoning to death for prostitution wouldn't meet that bar; but abducting, torturing, shooting, and burying alive a teenage girl would.

For more on CP see the Maverick here:

Death Penalty, Abortion, and Certainty
and here:
Capital Punishment and the Difference Between Conservatives and Leftists

Sprinkle's Pacifist Reading of the Sermon on the Mount

This is the fourth post on Preston Sprinkle's book, Fight: A Christian Case for Nonviolence.

I think Sprinkle's strongest argument for his version of pacifism is probably his argument from Jesus's Sermon on the Mount, which shouldn't be all that surprising since this is one of the key passages used by most Christian pacifists.  Sprinkle does his best to mitigate the seemingly obvious cases where violence is permitted in the Old Testament, but he seems to concede (a bit reluctantly perhaps) that certain acts of violence and killing were indeed permitted in Old Testament times.  But Jesus changes things, and changes things radically.   Jesus's pacifist position is so radical, Sprinkle's section in Chapter 7 ("Love Your Enemies") is titled "Outrageous Nonresistence."

Problem #1 with Sprinkle's Interpretation:

Sprinkle's book and the Meaning of "Violence"

This is the second post on Preston Sprinkle's book, Fight: A Christian Case for Nonviolence.

Since Sprinkle's book advocates a Christian case for nonviolence, it is important to get clear on what the definition of violence is with which he is working.  He gives his definition on pp. 30-32.

He begins with Stassen and Westmoreland-White's definition: "Violence is destruction to a victim by means that overpower the victim's consent."  Sprinkle remarks that, of all the definitions he's read, he likes this one the most (he then goes on to make an adjustment or two and gives his own definition which we'll get to in a moment).

What is it to "overpower the victim's consent"?  This is an odd phrase.  If I consent to your punching me in the face, and you punch me in the face, have I overpowered your consent?  If you're asleep and don't consent to being punched in the face, have I overpowered your consent if I punch you in the face?  Perhaps they mean that violence is the destruction (Sprinkle says they mean "harm") of a victim in cases where they have not consented to be harmed.  This is close to the Oxford English Dictionary's first definition of violence:

a. The exercise of physical force so as to inflict injury on, or cause damage to, persons or property; action or conduct characterized by this; treatment or usage tending to cause bodily injury or forcibly interfering with personal freedom.

The OED's second (and following) definitions, however, leave out anything about consent and just focus on harm.  Here is the second definition:

 b. In the phr. to do violence to , to do violence unto (or with indirect object): To inflict harm or injury upon; to outrage or violate.

So even though the phrase about overpowering consent is odd, I still think this first definition he offers of "violence" is plausible.  But Sprinkle does not settle on this definition.  Here is what he goes on to say about violence (we should note that he confines himself in the book to physical violence for matters of space and ignores psychological violence):

"I also want to modify the previous definition ever so slightly by adding a statement of intent.  In other words, an act of violence may not actually destroy the victim but is trying to destroy him or her. There are various activities, therefore, that could be violent--corporal punishment, mixed martial arts, etc.--but don't necessarily have to be.  It depends on the intent.
So for the sake of this book, I will use the term violence to refer to: a physical act that is intended to destroy (i.e. injure) a victim by means that overpower the victim's consent."

This is a narrower definition of violence than the previous one.  It's narrow because "violence" does not ordinarily imply anything about intent (in only one of the OED definitions that I came across does it mention anything about intent, the first definition above with the phrase "so as to," though even this is ambiguous).  One can witness a violent collision in football or a violent collision between two cars but have no idea about the intent involved.  In general, we can know that a collision was violent without knowing what the intentions were behind the violent collision (perhaps the car collision was an accident).  Another example closer to the subject of the book: a man takes a lot of drugs and gets so out of his mind that he goes on a violent rampage killing all sorts of people he doesn't know.  He is so high that he is barely conscious of what he is doing.  He had no intention of killing people when he took the drugs and while on the drugs he believes that he is in a video game and isn't intending to do violence to anyone; nonetheless, it is he who commits terrible acts of violence.

So Sprinkle is using the term "violence" in a narrowly defined way that is somewhat unconventional, employing both a concept of intent as well as consent.  "Violence" throughout the whole work will have to be understood as this term of art.  Of course, there's nothing inherently problematic with introducing a word as a term of art which means something slightly different than it would outside of its current context.  But there are a couple dangers: (1) Unless readers are frequently reminded that the term "violence" has a unique meaning, casual readers of Sprinkle's work will get the impression that (for example) when the Bible condemns certain acts of "violence" ("violence" as a term of art) that the Bible is thereby also condemning acts of violence (that is, violence regardless of the intent or consent).  (2) There is a danger that the author himself will slide from saying that (for example) the Bible condemns "violence" (the term of art) to violence (regardless of intent).

The general impression I get from reading "Fight" is that Sprinkle does not remind the reader enough that what is under discussion is (supposed to be) violence in his sense rather than the ordinary sense and many readers will thus likely conclude that violence (in the ordinary sense) is almost always wrong.  Nonetheless he does remind the reader of this from time to time, so perhaps I'm being too picky.  A greater problem, however, is that Sprinkle himself seems to sometimes forget the definition of violence he started out with and slides into discussing violence in the ordinary sense, and this is problematic for his argument.

Here are just two examples:

Preston Sprinkle's "Fight: A Christian Case for Nonviolence"

This is the first of a series of posts I intend to write on Preston Sprinkle's book "Fight."  The posts will be critical but I want to begin by saying a few positive things about the book before I begin my criticisms.

First, I should begin by saying that I am friends with Preston.  Or, if only hanging out with him and talking to him as seldom as I have aren't enough for our relationship to count as one of friendship, perhaps I should say that I am confident we would be friends if we were in closer proximity to one another.  I like Preston and we agree about way more than we disagree about.  And we have similar interests outside of academia.  I like Preston!  I just disagree with him about some key things in the book.

Second, I think his book is well written and ably covers a lot of ground.  His survey of the Bible and Church Fathers on the issues of killing and violence are interesting and his interpretations are not obviously false.

Third, I think he achieves his aim of writing a book for both scholars as well as non-scholars, but especially the latter.  His style is conversational enough that non-scholars should find the material both interesting and readable.  In addition, the book is well organized.

Finally, the book is fairly nuanced.  Preston is careful to refine his view when needed, and he presents and responds to a number of important objections to his view.  All in all it is a good book and one which counters an uncritical outlook by some Christians who don't take seriously what the Bible and Christian teaching have to say against some forms of killing and violence.

Having said all that, I do think there are some problems worth considering.

Was Martin Luther King, Jr. Like a Nonviable Fetus?

It just occurred to me that a certain kind of objection seems applicable both to moral relativism and a popular pro-abortion position. 

In short, I'll understand moral relativism as the view that moral truths are relative to particular cultures or societies.  If your society practices capital punishment, then it's morally permissible.  If it disapproves of it, then capital punishment is morally wrong.  [A bit more precisely I'll understand moral relativism as the view (a) denying the following: there are some moral truths independent of whatever people in a given society believe or practice, and (b) affirming the following: moral truths about some action A in a society are true only because people in that culture believe that A is right or wrong or practice A.]
 
Now there are all sorts of problems with moral relativism.  If true there would be numerous absurdities which I won't go into.  Instead, I'll focus on just one which also applies to arguments involving the viability of a fetus: