The day after the mass shooting in Las Vegas, Dr. Mohler
published an online article, “An Act of
Pure Evil” — Searching for Meaning in Las Vegas, subtitled “Evil points to
a necessary moral judgment made by a moral authority greater than we are -- a
transcendent and supernatural moral authority: God.” He read the essay the next
day in his Oct 3 Briefing.
He begins, “In the face of such overwhelming news, we naturally seek after
facts. We want to know what happened, and when. We want to know who did it.” He
notes with approval Pres. Trump’s calling the massacre “an act of pure evil,” and
goes on:
“The judgment of evil here, real
evil, should be beyond dispute. Evil is a fact, too. And evil is a theological
category. The secular worldview cannot use the word with coherence or sense.
The acknowledgement of evil requires the affirmation of a moral judgment and a
moral reality above human judgment. If we are just accidental beings in an
accidental universe, nothing can really be evil. Evil points to a necessary
moral judgment made by a moral authority greater than we are — a transcendent
and supernatural moral authority: God.”
As an atheist, I dispute these claims. I will try to explain
below how calling evil evil presents no problem to the secular worldview.
Dr. Mohler ends the essay by quoting Isaiah 5:20:
“Woe to those who call evil good
and good evil, who put darkness for light, and light for darkness, who put
bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter.”
I will use this as my starting point.
Bitter things taste bitter because they excite our bitter-detecting taste buds,
likewise for sweet. Sugar tastes sweet and some coffee tastes bitter. These are
facts, but they are facts as much about human beings as they are about the
things we eat. Are they “objective facts”? They are in the sense that they are
not matters of personal opinion. They are facts about the world we live in,
which includes humans, coffee and sugar. If sugar existed but there were no
organisms which perceived it as sweet, it would not be a fact about sugar that
it is sweet. You might say that sugar’s sweetness is both a fact about sugar
and about human nature.
Or consider the stench of a rotting carcass. It is foul. We might say that it smells
evil, that it has an evil smell. By this we mean that the smell is very very
bad. The meat has gone bad. But to a vulture, it may smell delicious. What
makes the meat bad to us is that it is poisonous to humans, though not to the
vulture. Because to eat it is bad for humans, we evolved to be repelled by the
odor. We find it disgusting. We reject it. We want to get away from it.
What the Las Vegas shooter did was very very bad for a very large number of
people. This is a fact beyond dispute. It caused suffering, injury and death.
It deprived victims of years of happiness and the opportunities that life
affords; deprived their children, parents, friends and siblings of their love,
support and company; traumatized bystanders and first responders; and saddened
and horrified millions of media witnesses who felt for the victims and their
loved ones. This event is not only overwhelmingly perceived as bad by all
people possessed of their unimpeded natural faculties (with an exception I will
take up below), it WAS bad for people.
All this would be true if the deaths and injuries had been caused by a natural
disaster, so we have not yet reached the moral. But add to all this badness the
fact that all this was intentionally brought about by a human being capable of
reason, but who had no good reason. Now we don’t have just an impersonal, accidental,
natural event; we have an act – an intentional human action. And we judge these
morally, by approving or condemning them.
Just what moral judgement entails has been the subject of endless philosophical
discussion. I am not a trained philosopher, and I don't know how my view would be evaluated by one. But I will attempt here, by exploiting the analogy of bitter, sweet, and
foul, to offer a naturalistic explanation.
It is part of human nature to react negatively to malicious acts that cause
serious harm, especially to those we care about or with whom we naturally empathize. Just as we are
disgusted by the smell of bad meat, we reject such bad actions and the persons
responsible for them. We may feel anger, disgust, horror or outrage at these
actions and their perpetrators. We may attack them, shun them, or seek to
punish them. It makes sense that we should feel and act in this way, since we evolved
as social animals, and it will have benefited our ancestors’ genes if they
exerted social pressure against behaviors that harmed members of the group or
the group itself.
Dr. Mohler writes,
“The acknowledgement of evil
requires the affirmation of a moral judgment and a moral reality above human
judgment. If we are just accidental beings in an accidental universe, nothing
can really be evil. Evil points to a necessary moral judgment made by a moral
authority greater than we are — a transcendent and supernatural moral
authority: God.”
But consider the sweet and the bitter. Even if we are
accidental beings, sugar will still be sweet and apricot kernels bitter. The
sweet tastes good and the intensely bitter bad for good reasons: the sweet is
nourishing (rich in calories), while the bitter tends to be poisonous. That
sugar is sweet (that is, sweet to human beings) is an objective fact that stems
from its chemical composition and our human nature. There is no need for a
transcendent authority to declare it so.
Why should the moral qualities of actions be any different? We judge
intentional actions according to their goodness or badness. Malicious acts
which intentionally cause harm with no good reason are evil to us. We perceive
them as evil and they are objectively evil, in that they are intentional and
cause needless suffering. We try to prevent them. We discourage them. We punish
them. We call them bad and we call them wrong.
“Wrong” may be taken to imply a
norm, a standard or rule. Societies develop implicit or explicit rules governing
behavior, including prohibitions against morally bad behaviors. But the fact
and perception that truly evil actions are morally bad precedes, I would
suggest, any rules which sanction them. They are morally sanctioned – we call
them wrong – because they are bad, not vice versa.
It follows that social or religious rules that declare
actions wrong which are not truly bad – and may even be good – are not morally
valid. Furthermore, if such supposedly moral sanctions cause unnecessary suffering
and deprive people of happiness, those rules themselves are evil, and their
proponents guilty of promoting evil.
The reader may have noticed that I have glossed over some serious difficulties.
One seeming difficulty which is not truly one is the fact that ISIS has claimed
responsibility for the Las Vegas massacre, and no doubt ISIS fighters have
rejoiced in the carnage. How could this be possible? I believe it is due to the
fact that ISIS shares Dr. Mohler’s view of the divine source of morality. What
we should and should not do is believed to be entirely up to God’s will.
According to this view, anything that God commands is by definition good and
right, and anything he prohibits bad and wrong. Therefore, if you happen to be under the sway of
a version of divine commands which is, as a matter of fact, harmful to human
beings as they actually exist, you may be led to commit and to approve of the most
heinous acts imaginable. This would be an instance of thoughts and beliefs
corrupting human nature, subverting its natural empathy and its accurate moral
judgements. It would be like convincing someone that the bitter is sweet and
the sweet is bitter because it says so in a book.
Another question is the shooter himself. If perceptions of moral goodness and
badness are human universals (like bitter and sweet), how could a man do what
he did? One possibility is that he is neurologically malformed. His father was wanted for bank
robbery and diagnosed as a psychopath. Perhaps Stephen Paddock was a psychopath
– that is, a person lacking the emotional prerequisites of a moral sense
– who had kept this secret until now. Or
else he decided, for unknown reasons, to do what he knew and even felt was evil.
A far more serious difficulty is that what I have described as a human
universal – revulsion at malicious acts – seems to have important exceptions.
Nazis who beat and humiliated Jews in the streets felt righteous and were no
doubt applauded by many, though condemned by others. Humanities’ sense of the
badness of harm depends on its attitude to the victims. If they are blamed for
being evil, the harm may be perceived as being a just punishment. Or if they
are dehumanized – perceived as completely unlike a person’s own family and community
– then empathy fails, and revulsion for and condemnation of the perpetrators
does not kick in.
If I say that we should condemn the Nazis, although they were human beings as I
am, but they did not judge their actions to be evil as I do, am I caught in a
contradiction? Is it like finding out that sugar tastes salty in some cultures,
so there is no objective fact about the sweetness of sugar, but still insisting
that it is really sweet? Am I implicitly relying on an authority I deny – one that transcends human
judgement – to back my judgement over theirs?
Not, I think, if I stick to the notion that badness and goodness for people –
their suffering or happiness, their fulfillment or diminishment – is the real
basis of morality. Then we can be wrong about it: our moral feelings and
judgements can be distorted by false beliefs or traumatic experiences or social pressure, or we
can ignore them or lie to ourselves about them out of callousness or selfishness.
But senseless malicious harm is still morally bad, and unselfish heroic aid is
still morally good, just as the sweet is sweet and the bitter bitter, even
though at times we may fail to taste them, or ignore or make mistakes about
them.
Christians who understand morality as
being, in its essence, a matter of rules – of laws which are grounded in nothing other than an absolute
divine authority – will find my account unsatisfactory. But I would object that
they try to have it both ways: they also hold that what God commands leads to
human flourishing. As long as they believe this they don’t have to choose
between morality as arbitrary divine commands (arbitrary because if they are
not arbitrary, but are based on the good, then the divine command is
superfluous) and morality as a matter of what is good for us.
But if morality is a matter of what is good for us, then by learning new facts about different ways of living, we should be able to improve our understanding of what is moral and what is immoral. This implies that we should be open to learning, and to changing our opinions about morality based on what we learn. Dr. Mohler's worldview implies that we should not, and he has an amazing ability to be impervious to facts. He believes in the
biblical creation story, including a young earth, in the face of centuries of
scientific discoveries to the contrary. And because he believes he knows that
homosexuality is sinful and violates God’s commands, he is convinced that its
practice cannot under any circumstances lead to happy and fulfilling lives, no matter what we may learn
about those lives, even though this should be, in principle, an empirical
question.
As more and more LGBT people have come out of the closet and the American
populace has come to know them, Americans in general have become more and more
convinced that they were wrong about these people; that they can lead decent,
loving, flourishing lives as LGB or T or Q. But no amount of such learning experiences
(if he allows himself to have them) will ever convince Dr. Mohler that such
lives can be good, or that trying to suppress LGBT people, stigmatize their ways of life,
and force them back into celibacy or the closet, is bad for them, and therefore
evil. That is not countenanced by his worldview.
The question is, who is really putting the sweet for the bitter or who the bitter for the sweet?
A few more points of a general atheistic bent:
In various ways Dr. Mohler claims that the Christian worldview explains evil, although he also says "It is ultimately inexplicable, unfathomable, and cannot be resolved by human means." As a matter of fact, monotheism is uniquely unqualified to explain the presence of evil in the world. If only one God exists and He is all powerful, all knowing and supremely benevolent, why is there evil? Christianity offers only unsatisfactory and absurd excuses. Did an all-wise God create a species which broke and was fatally corrupted after its very first bad decision? What kind of design is that? Did the Fall corrupt the rest of creation and introduce death into the world? Even worse! Is stealing an apple, in order to know more, really that bad? Is disobedience deserving of death? Are guilt and sin really heritable? And speaking of evil, if God is benevolent, why should eternal torment await the unsaved? No human justice is half as savage.
In contrast, the secular worldview explains the existence of evil without breaking a sweat. The key is that we were not created perfect. We are works in progress, imperfect animals which have evolved by a process of trial and error. So it is not surprising that we should make all kinds of mistakes, fail to live up to our potential, or that there should be some really bad apples. Psychology, sociology, economics, genetics, culture – all kinds of explanations can be brought to bear and have a part to play. There is no cosmic mystery to the fact that we do things to harm each other and ourselves, despite our capacities for moral perception and judgement.
Christians are apt to end a discussion with an atheist by saying, "Well we'll see." They are certain that they are right and that the atheist is going to hell, and he'll know it soon enough. As Dr. Mohler said,
"The Christian worldview also promises that God will bring about a final
act of moral judgment that will be the final word on right and wrong —
as facts, not merely speculation."
It is as if we are taking an exam, and when we get our papers back we will receive the authoritative correct answer. (Right there in black and white, so to speak, hard facts, unlike secularists' mere speculation — although the prospect of such a judgement in a hypothetical afterlife is speculative in the extreme.) Implicit perhaps in this account is the claim that if there is no grading, there can be no correct answer. Without ultimate reward and punishment there is no right and wrong. "Everything is permitted." I think this is a mistake.
The Holocaust was formative of my view of the universe – including a silent, nonexistent God. I remember a scene from a 1985 film called "Shoah", a documentary about the Holocaust. It shows the grounds of a concentration camp decades after the war. It could just be a meadow. Grass is growing. Trees sway almost imperceptibly. A few birds break the silence. It is a long take. The world continues now as it did then, as if all these horrors never happened. They don't leave a mark, except on us, while we remember.
It says too much even to say the universe is indifferent to right and wrong. There is no other witness to be indifferent. We live in a moral world only because we live in a human world and we are moral animals. We rebel against evil and rejoice in the good. We have a moral dimension. There is nobody but us to appreciate the wonderful and the horrendous, to blame or forgive. But that is enough for good and evil to be real.