return to Table of Contents

Don’t be a “why’s” guy…

 

If you were ever a kid, you probably went through a stage when you asked your parents why something was right and when they told you, you asked why that was right, and then why that was right, and so on until you got an answer that was final enough, such as: (a) “Because I said so;” (b) “Shut-up, kid;” or (c) Here’s why (whap, whap, whap).[1]

Perhaps you were not completely satisfied with those answers, though, and now that you are older and more philosophical, you might want to return to such questions.  Why should you avoid X?  The answer, perhaps, is that X would do somebody some harm.  So, why is that a bad thing?  Well, no one wants to be hurt.  That in turn raises other questions, such as “aren’t some things good even though they hurt?” and even “why should it matter if people don’t want to be hurt?”  Whatever the answers to those questions might be, you can keep asking why, and keep asking why, until eventually you come to a point where there is nothing left to say.

It seems as if there is not, and cannot be, any final answer to Why?

Does God solve that problem for you?  Not really.  When you get to the point where you are saying, “Avoid X because God commanded it,” the perfectly obvious question is: Why should that matter?  Would we avoid X because Saddam Hussein commanded it?

God has at least three good things going for him, according to common belief: he is all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-good, whereas Saddam Hussein comes up a tad short on these measures.  Do these things matter, though?

God’s power seems irrelevant, unless all you are worried about is his ability to punish you if you mess up.  The devil is supposedly powerful too, but in an evil way.  Power, by itself, does not equal goodness or provide a moral mandate for obedience.  One rule we all know is: might does not make right.

Knowledge seems like a better recommendation – though not a really solid one.  After all, the devil is supposed to be supernaturally knowledgeable, too – not necessarily any less so than God.  The relevant difference between God and the devil is not power or knowledge, but how that power and knowledge is used: God uses it for good, the devil for evil.  But how do we know that?  If God says, “I’m the good one,” but Lucifer says, “No, I’m the good one,” how do we determine who’s telling the truth?

If good and evil apply to beings at the top of the supernatural food chain, then this seems to suggest that good and evil are something outside and even above God and the devil.  If God ceased existing, would good and evil still make sense?

Most of us think that it would.  What God says is good is not good merely because he said so.  Rather, it seems, God tells us what is good because it is good and he wants us to be good.  God does not make it good.  Wanton murder would not be good if God was having a bad day and decided to say that it was.

Furthermore, if things were good just because God said so, then we couldn’t say that God himself was good.  All we could say is that he is in the lucky position of being able to set the standards.  God can only be called “good” if that word has some meaning outside of God’s say-so.

Therefore, God is not the final justification for good and evil.  We might suppose that he knows more about it than anyone else, and that if we are wise we will follow his commandments on that account.  But that would be mere prudence on our part (or maybe not – we’ll come back to this later).

So we are still left to wonder, what makes goodness good, and makes evilness evil?  It isn’t God.  But if not God, what?

If you’re waiting for the answer, you’re not going to get it yet.  This line of thought leads us into empty space.  At some point, we just have to say: I can’t explain it, I just know (or am willing to accept) that certain actions or certain principles are good, and others are bad.  And we have to do that whether we believe in God or not.  So from this angle, belief in God doesn’t solve our problems.

Let’s go after it a different way.

 

 

return to Table of Contents

 

© 2006 by C.S. Yanikoski, Harvard, Massachusetts


 



[1] The last of these sounds crude, but it’s a Zen Buddhist favorite.  No joke!