A really big choice

A messy Irenaean world which leaves much to be desired and then grows in value due to our contribution has a great value.

A perfectionistic world where everyone is already perfectly virtuous and everything is good and we just maintain that level of good also has great value.

Quite plausibly the two worlds have incommensurable value.

God could just choose between these incommensurable values. But what God does is something else: he leaves it to the first humans to choose. This seems an especially great gift: we get to choose the basic shape of the value that our world takes.

We sin, and we get the Irenaean world.

Little evils

From time to time I wonder why it is that we focus on big evils in discussing the problem of evil. After all, first consider this argument:

1. As far as we can tell, Alice’s cancer is a gratuitous evil.

2. So, probably, there is a gratuitous evil.

3. If there is a God, there is no gratuitious evil.

4. So, probably, there is no God.

And then this one:

5. As far as we can tell, Bob’s stubbed toe is a gratuitous evil.

6. So, probably, there is a gratuitous evil.

7. If there is a God, there is no gratuitious evil.

8. So, probably, there is no God.

The same kind of backing can be given to (1) and (5). We’ve thought long and hard about Alice’s cancer and its connections to the rest of the world, and can’t find a theodicy. We’ve thought long and hard about BOb’s stubbed toe and its connections to the rest of the world, and can’t find a theodicy. And the rest of the two arguments seems to flow the same way. But as far as I can tell (!), nobody’s become an atheist because of arguments like (5)-(8) while many have become atheists because of arguments like (1)-(4).

What’s going on?

Here is one answer, which at times I’ve felt some pull towards: we shouldn’t take (1)-(4) as seriously as we do.

Here is another answer: we should take (5)-(8) more seriously than we do.

But there may be a good conservative answer, one that maintains our intuition that (1)-(4) should be taken seriously while (5)-(8) shouldn’t. There is a difference in the two arguments, and it lies in the difference between the inference from (1) to (2) and the inference from (5) to (6). In the cancer case, a good that would justify God’s permission of the evil would have to be a very large good. In the stubbed toe case, a justifying good could be pretty small. But it is much easier to overlook a small good than a very large good. Thus, (5) confers much less probability on the existence of gratuitous evil than (1) does.

When I first thought of this conservative answer, I had the image of an elephant: it’s hard to overlook an elephant in the room, but a smaller thing is easier to overlook.

Is that a good image? Are bigger goods easier to see?

Sometimes. A tiny increment in pleasure may be hard to see just as it’s hard to tell the difference in color between two nearby shades of green. If the stubbed toe led to Bob having a slightly greater appreciation of his health the next day, he might not notice.

On the other hand, some really big goods are things we may take for granted, and they need to be pointed out first by some wise person for us to expressly notice them. For instance, the value of human dignity. However, goods that we take for granted are likely irrelevant here—for goods that we take for granted are unlikely to be goods that need Bob’s cancer to exist.

Furthermore, it may not be all about smaller things being harder to see. Consider Rover the dog. How likely is it that there is a cat bigger than Rover? Well, it is more likely when Rover is small than when Rover is big. Similarly, if an evil is smaller, then it is more likely that it is connected to good big enough to justfy it than if the evil is bigger.

So, I think, one can make a case that the inference from a cancer to gratuitous evil is better than the inference from a stubbed toe to a gratuitious evil. But is it much, much better? That I am not sure about. Yet we take (1)-(4) very seriously and we take (5)-(8) not seriously at all. Even if we are right to take (1)-(4) more seriously than (5)-(8), perhaps we make too big a difference between them. Perhaps we shouldn’t take (1)-(4) quite as seriously as we do, and perhaps we should take (5)-(8) more seriously, and perhaps both!

Rowe's argument from evil revisited

In his 1979 classic paper, Rowe says that a necessary condition for an “omniscient, wholly good (OG) being” to fail to prevent an evil s₁ is that at least one of the following three conditions holds:

1. there is some greater good, G, such that G is obtainable by OG only if OG permits s₁, or

2. there is some greater good, G, such that G is obtainable by OG only if OG permits either s₁ or some evil equally bad or worse

3. s₁ is such that it is preventable by OG only if OG permits some evil equally bad or worse.

We might put it this way: Rowe is saying that OG will prevent all gratuitous evils, and an evil is gratuitous if none of (i)–(iii) are satisfied.

First, note that (i) can be omitted, since if we have (i), we have (ii) as well. That’s a nice simplification: we only need (ii) and (iii).

More interestingly, however, note an ambiguity in “there is some greater good”. To see the ambiguity, consider this apparent counterexample to Rowe.

Suppose both theological compatibilism and Molinism are false, and God decides to give Alice a free choice between a great moral good G₁ and a tiny moral evil s₁, in circumstances where Alice is very likely to choose G₁. Absent theological compatibilism and Molinism, God cannot, however, ensure that Alice will choose G₁. Suppose, also, that free choice is not valuable as such, but significantly freely choosing well is very valuable (where significant freedom is freedom to choose between right and wrong), and much more valuable than choosing well without significant freedom. Finally, let’s suppose Alice goes for s₁. It is reasonable to say that s₁ is non-gratuitous, for preventing s₁ would lose the opportunity for the great good of Alice significantly freely choosing G₁. But an opportunity for a good may not count as a good. Condition (iii) is not satisfied—if God didn’t give Alice the choice between G₁ and s₁, no other evil would have to be permitted. But neither is (ii). For the good G of Alice significantly freely choosing G₁ does not exist, since Alice does not in fact choose G₁.

For many years I thought that this was a counterexample to Rowe. Today it hit me that this might be uncharitable. When Rowe says “there is some greater good”, he might mean a greater possible good or a greater type of good. Thus, in my example there is a greater possible good or a greater type of good, that of Alice significantly freely choosing G₁, albeit this is a good that isn’t actually instantiated.

Thus, charitably, let’s take Rowe to be quantifying over possible goods (or, pretty much equivalently, types of goods). A weak support for this is that the “some evil” in (ii) clearly quantifies over possible evils, so it makes the conditions neater to quantify over possible goods and evils.

Here is another problem for Rowe’s account. Suppose (ii) and (iii) are not satisfied, but instead we have:

4. there is a good, G, such that G is obtainable by OG only if OG permits s₁ or something at least as bad while the only way that s₁ is preventable by OG is by permitting some lesser evil s₂ or something at least as bad as s₂, and that G plus s₁ is better than s₂.

It seems that in case like this, s₁ need not be gratuitous. But note that a case like this does not require either G to be a greater good in comparison to the evil s₁ nor does it require s₂ to be at least as bad as s₁. For intance, suppose the value of G is 10, the value of s₁ is  − 11 and the value of s₂ is  − 3. Then G plus s₁ has value  − 1, which is better than the  − 3 we get by preventing s₁ at the cost of s₂ and loss of G. In cases like this, (ii) and (iii) need not be satisfied, and yet the evil need not be gratuitous. In other words, there cases where we have a kind of mix of (ii) and (iii). (It’s hard to think of examples, but it’s also hard to think of examples of (iii). I think the examples would have to involve divine promises.)

I also worry about incommensurability. For simplicity, let’s suppose there is no incommensurability: all values and disvalues are comparable. Also, let’s suppose that there are only finitely many scenarios in play, so we don’t have to worry about infinite sequences of less and less bad options and stuff like that.

Still Rowe’s necessary condition for non-gratuity have become more complicated: (ii) or (iii) or (iv), and with the quantifiers ranging over possible goods and possible evils. And once conditions get so complicated, one starts to worry that we are missing something. It would be nice to simplify the conditions.

Here is my attempt at such a simplification:

1. There is a possible scenario where s₁ is permitted by OG which is at least as good as any possible scenario where s₁ is prevented by OG.

Before continuing, I want to worry a bit about the following. Suppose that by preventing an evil s₁ you lose a good G, where G is not a greater good, but an “equal good”, i.e., the value of G equals exactly the disvalue of s₁. In that case, it seems plausible that a morally perfect being would prevent s₁, since there is a presumption in favor of preventing evils. I will take avoid this worry simply by assuming that it’s better to have neither G nor s₁ than to have both G and s₁ in cases where the value of G equals the disvalue of s₁, i.e., that axiology has a presumption in favor of no-evil. Otherwise, we need to slightly modify (1).

Suppose (1) is true. Let G be the sum total of the goods in the scenario A that’s at least as good as any possible scenario where s₁ is prevented by OG. It follows that any way of preventing s₁ involves either the loss of G or a scenario where the totality of evil is greater than s₁. If G is a greater good compared to s₁, then we thus have (ii). If G is empty, then it seems that there are no goods in the scenario, but we must have greater evils in the s₁-prevention scenarios than in A, and so we have (iii). Finally, if G is non-empty but not greater in comparison to $s_1 then I suspect we are going to have (iv) or something very close, but it’s a bit too complicated for me to think through in detail at the moment.

Moreover, (1) is intuitive as a necessary condition on God’s permitting an evil, in a way in which the triple disjunction (ii) or (iii) or (iv) is probably too complicated to be intuitive. I take it, then, that (1) is a friendly amendment to Rowe’s atheistic argument.

But at this point there is an interesting skeptical theist move. Rowe needs to be able to be epistemically justified in pointing to some evil s₁ and denying (1). But that’s pretty hard. Claim (1) existentially quantifies over all possible scenarios where s₁ is permitted by OG. It’s not that easy to know that one of them has the property indicated in (1), given the vast range of scenarios where s₁ is permitted by OG.

Humanity and humans

From childhood, I remember the Polish Christmas carol “Amidst the Silence of Night” from around the beginning of the 19th century, and I remember being particularly impressed by the lines:

Ahh, welcome, Savior, longed for of old,
four thousand years awaited.
For you, kings, prophets waited,
and you this night to us appeared.

I have lately found troubling the question: Why did God wait over a hundred thousand years from the beginning of the human race to send us his Son and give us the Gospel?

The standard answer is that God needed to prepare humankind. The carol’s version of this answer suggests that this preparation intensified our longings for salvation through millenia of waiting. A variant is that we need a lot of time to fully realize our moral depravity in the absence of God. Or one might emphasize that moral teaching is a slow and gradual process, and millenia are needed to make us ready to receive the Gospel.

I think there is something to all the answers, but they do not fully satisfy as they stand. After all, a human child from 100,000 years ago is presumably roughly as capable of moral development as a modern child. If we had time travel, it seems plausible that missionaries would be just as effective 100,000 years ago as they were 1000 years ago. The intensification of longings and the realization of social moral depravity are, indeed, important considerations, but human memory, even aided by writing, only goes back a few thousand years. Thus, two thousand years of waiting and learning about moral depravity would likely have had basically the same result for the individuals in the time of the Incarnation as a hundred thousand years did.

I am starting to think that this problem cannot be fully resolved simply by considering individual goods. It is important, I think, to consider humankind as a whole, with goods attached to the human community as a whole. The good of moral development can be considered on an individual level, and that good needs a few decade rather than millenia. But the good of moral development can also be considered on the level of humankind as well, and there millenia are fitting for the development not to ride roughshod over nature. Similarly, the good of longing for and anticipation of a great good only needs at most a few decades in an individual, but there is a value in humankind as a whole longing for and anticipating on a species timescale rather an individual timescale.

In other words, reflection on the waiting for Christ pushes us away from an overly individualistic view. As do, of course, other aspects of Christian theology, such as reflection on the Fall, the Church, the atonement, etc.

Am I fully satisfied? Not quite. Is the value of humankind’s more organic development worth sacrificing the goods of thousands of generations of ordinary humans who did not hear the Gospel? God seems to think so, and I am willing to trust him. There is doubtless a lot more to be said. But it helps me to think that this is yet another one of those many things where one needs to view a community (broadly understood) as having a moral significance going beyond the provision of more individualistic goods.

Two more remarks. First, a graduate student pointed out to me (if I understood them right) that perhaps we should measure individual moral achievement relative to the state of social development. If so, then perhaps there was not so great a loss to individuals, since what might matter for their moral wellbeing is this relative moral achievement.

Second, the specifically Christian theological problem that this post addresses has an analogue to a subspecies of the problem of evil that somehow has particularly bothered me for a long time: the evils caused by lack of knowledge, and especially lack of medical knowledge. Think of the millenia of people suffering and dying of in ways that could have been averted had people only known more, say, about boiling water, washing hands or making vaccines. I think there is a value in humankind’s organic epistemic development. But to employ that as an answer one has to be willing to say that such global goods of humankind as a whole can trump individual goods.

(Note that all that I say is meant to be compatible with a metaphysics of value on which the loci of value are always individuals. For an individual’s well-being can include external facts about humankind. Thus the good of humankind as a whole might be metaphysically housed in the members. The important thing, however, is that these goods are goods the human has qua part of humanity.)

Gratuitous evil and compensation

In the last couple of decades, the most prominent argument from evil is base on the idea that God couldn’t allow a gratuitous evil. Here is one way to define a gratuitous evil, paraphrasing Rowe:

1. E is gratuitous if and only if there is no greater or equal good G that is only obtainable by God if God permits E or something equal or worse.

(For simplicity, I am taking the prevention of an evil as itself a good.)

By (1), if E is any earthly evil, it’s too easy to show that for all we know E is not gratuitous.

To see this, observe that for all we know, the persons suffering from E are compensated in an afterlife by God bestowing on them a greater good G₀. Now let G be the good of receiving G₀ in compensation from God for suffering E. Then G is a good, and is at least as good as G₀ itself. But G₀ is greater in magnitude than E. Thus, G is greater than E. Moreover, God’s permitting E is a necessary condition for God’s compensating someone for suffering E, since God cannot compensate someone for something that didn’t happen. Therefore, G is obtainable by God only if God permits E.

So we don’t want to go for (1), since it’s too easy to find goods that are only obtainable given E if there is an afterlife.

The problem with this example is that while it is impossible for God to give G₀ as compensation for E without E, God can give G₀ gratuitously, and that seems to be just as good as giving it as compensation. The atheist who wants to argue for the existence of God should modify (1) as follows:

2. E is gratuitous if and only if there is no greater or equal good G such that something at least as good as G is only obtainable by God if God permits E or something equal or worse.

But given (2), it is implausible to say that God couldn’t allow a gratuitous evil. Consider a case where Alice makes a slightly mean joke at Bob’s expense. She then repents, and asks Bob for forgiveness, who forgives. It is easy to imagine that the value of the repentance and forgiveness is greater than the disvalue of the joke, but just as the joke was a minor evil, the repentance and forgiveness are minor goods. It seems intuitively clear that the case of Alice’s slightly mean joke does not require any theodicy beyond what has just been said. Yet Alice’s joke appears to be a gratuitous evil according to (2).

For the goods in the previous paragraph are all minor goods. But God could create a major good without permitting any evil at all. For instance, God could create an infinite number of happy mathematicians who eternally enjoy the search for truth and who do not have the freedom to choose between good and evil, but must do good. That infinity of happy mathematicians would be a major good. But surely any minor good is less than any major good. Thus, if we let G be the minor goods of repentance and forgiveness in the previous paragraph, then something greater than G—namely, the infinite number of happy mathematicians—is obtainable by God without any evil at all. And hence the story in the previous paragraph isn’t enough to provide a theodicy, if (2) is the right account of gratuitous evils.

Maybe the solution is a very strong doctrine of incommensurability, on which the good of the infinitely many mathematicians is incommensurable with the goods of repentance and forgiveness even when the latter two are minor. But given such a strong doctrine of incommensurability, we can go back to my original compensation story. The problem I saw with that original story is that God could give G₀ gratuitously and not as compensation, and I said that that would be at least as good. But given a strong doctrine of incommensurability, giving G₀ gratuitously will be incommensurable with giving G₀ as compensation for E. And, plausibly, any good that isn’t and instance of compensating for E or something at least as bad will be incommensurable with the good of compensating for E with G₀. Thus, mere compensation will suffice for theodicy.

I am not comfortable with saying that mere compensation suffices for theodicy. But there is something to this idea.

Gratuitous and objective evil

Suppose, highly controversially, that no defensible atheist account of objective value is possible. Now consider a paradigmatic apparently gratuitous horrendous evil E—say, one of the really awful things done to children described by Ivan in the Brothers Karamazov. The following two claims are both intuitive:

1. E is gratuitous

2. E is objectively evil.

But if there is no defensible account of objective evil on atheism, then (1) and (2) are in serious tension. For if there cannot be objective evil on atheism, then (2) cannot be true on atheism. Thus, (2) implies theism. But on the other hand, (1) implies atheism, since E gratuitous just in case if God existed, then E would be an evil that God has conclusive moral reason to prevent.

On our initial assumption about atheism, then, we need to choose between (1) and (2). And here there is no difficulty. That the things described by Ivan are objectively evil is way more clear than that God would have conclusive moral reason to prevent them, even if the latter claim is very likely in isolation.

Is a defensible atheist account of objective value possible? I used to think there was no special difficulty, but I’ve since come to be convinced that probably the only tenable account of objective value is an Aristotelian one based on form, and that human form requires something like a divine source. That said, even if objective value is something the atheist can defend, nonetheless knowledge of objective value is very difficult for the atheist. For objective value has to be (I know this is controversial) non-natural, and on atheism it is very difficult to explain how we could acquire the power to get in touch with non-natural aspects of reality.

But if knowledge of objective value is very difficult for the atheist, then we have tension between:

1. E is gratuitous

2. I know that E is objectively evil.

And (3) is still, I think, significantly more plausible than (1).

The evidential force of there being at least one gratuitous evil is low

Suppose we keep fixed in our epistemic background K general facts about human life and the breadth and depth of evil in the world, and consider the impact on theism of the additional piece of evidence that at least one of the evils is apparently gratuitous—i.e., one such that has resisted finding a theodicy despite strenuous investigation.

Now, clearly, if we found that there is not even one gratuitous evil would be extremely good evidence for the existence of God—for if there is no God, it is amazing if of the many evils there are, none were apparently gratuitous, but less amazing if there is a God. And hence, by a standard Bayesian theorem, finding that there is at least one gratuitous evil must be some evidence against the existence of God. But at the same time, the fact that F is strong evidence for T does not mean that the absence of F is strong evidence against T. Whether it is or is not depends on details.

But the background K contains some relevant facts. One of these is that we are limited knowers, and while we have had spectacular successes in our ability to understand the world and events around us, it is not incredibly uncommon to find things that have (so far) defeated our strenuous investigation. Some of these are scientific questions, and some are interpersonal questions—“Why did he do that?” Given this, it seems unsurprising, even if God exists, that we would sometimes be stymied in figuring out why God did something, including why he failed to prevent some evils. Thus, the probability of at least one of the vast numbers of evils in K being apparently gratuitous, given the existence of God, is pretty high, though slightly lower than given the non-existence of God. This means that the evidential force for atheism of there being at least one apparently gratuitous evil is fairly low.

Furthermore, one can come up with a theodicy for the gratuitous part of a gratuitous evil. When a person’s motives are not transparent to us we are thereby provided with an opportunity for exercising the virtue of trust. And reversely, a person’s always explaining themselves when they have been apparently unjustified does not build trust, on the other hand, but suspicion. Given the evils themselves as part of the background K, that some of them be apparently gratuitous provides us with an opportunity to exercise trust in God in a way that we would not be able to if none of the evils were apparently gratuitous. Given K (which presumably includes facts about us not being always in the luminous presence of God), it would be somewhat surprising if God always made sure we could figure out why he allowed evils. Again, this makes the evidential force for atheism of the apparent gratuity of evil fairly low.

Now, it may well be that when we consider the number or the type (perhaps they are of a type where divine explanations of permission would be reasonably expected) of apparently gratuitous evils, things change. Nothing I have said in this post undermines that claim. My only point is that the mere existence of an apparently gratuitous evil is very little evidence against theism.

Hiddenness and evil

There is some discussion in the literature whether the problem of hiddenness is a species of the problem of evil. I think the theist should say that it is, and can even identify the type of evil it is. There are some important propositions which it is normal for a human being to know, or at least to believe, ignorance of which is constitutive of not having a flourishing life. Examples include not realizing that one’s fellows are persons, not realizing that one is a person, not possessing basic moral truths, etc. If God in fact exists, then the proposition that God exists falls in the same category of propositions it is normal for humans to believe, and without believing which we cannot flourish.

A corollary of this is that if we can find a good theodicy for other cases of ignorance of truths needed for a flourishing human life, then we have hope that that theodicy would apply to ignorance of the existence of God.

Evils that are evidence for theism

It’s mildly interesting to note, when evaluating the evidential impact of evil, that there can be evil events that would be evidence for the existence of God. For instance, suppose that three Roman soldiers who witnessed Christ’s resurrection conspired to lie that he didn’t see Christ get resurrected. That they lied that they didn’t see Christ get resurrected entails that they thought they witnessed the resurrection, and that would be strong evidence for the existence of God, even after factoring in the counterevidence coming from the evil of the lie. (After all, we already knew that there are lots of lies in the world, so learning of one more won’t make much of a difference.)

In fact, this is true even for horrendous and apparently gratuitous evils. We could imagine that the three soldiers’ lies crush someone’s hopes for the coming of the Messiah, and that could be a horrendous evil. And it could also be the case that we can’t see any possible good from the lie, and hence the lie is apparently gratuitous.

Rowe-style inductive arguments from evil

The examples, like Rowe’s, of evils in the inductive argument from evil are chosen to make them have a certain epistemic feature F. And the claim is that P(E has F | God) < P(E has F | no God), with the background information containing the occurrence of E (i.e., the evidence isn’t that the evil has occurred, but that the evil has F). Exactly what F is differs from paper to paper, but roughly the feature is that after investigation we don’t have a plausible candidate theodicy.

But not every evil has F. If every evil had F, then the examples in the literature wouldn’t run as heavily as they do to lethal harm to children and animals. The examples used by the atheological arguers are chosen to be particularly compelling and what makes them compelling is that they have F—nobody runs an inductive argument from evil based on robber barons getting stomachaches from too much caviar, because such evils do not have F.

So there are evils that don’t have F. And then P(E has ∼F | God) > P(E has ∼F | no God) by Bayesianism. So checking whether an evil has F sometimes yields an argument against the existence of God (namely when the evil does have F) and sometimes yields an argument for the existence of God (when the evil doesn’t have F).

And we do not know (as far as I know, Tooley is the only one to have made a serious attempt to figure it out, and his account fails for technical reasons) what the result is once the evidence is consolidated.

What do we learn about God's existence from the clear failures to find justification for evils?

Suppose we know of some evil e₁, and careful further investigation clearly fails to turn up justification that God would have to allow that evil. Let F₁ be that clear failure.

Now, those who defend the inductive argument from evil claim that F₁ is evidence against the existence of God. But now presumably sometimes after investigation of some other evil, say e₂, we do not clearly fail to turn up justification for an evil (i.e., we either find a justification or it is unclear whether we have done so). Presumably, in that case the clear failure F₂ to turn up a justification would have been evidence against the existence of God. But now it is a basic Bayesian result that the absence of F₂ is evidence for the existence of God.

In practice, the results of investigation vary from evil to evil. Sometimes we clearly fail to find a justification and sometimes we don’t clearly fail. When we clearly fail, that is Bayesian evidence against theism. When we don’t clearly fail, that is Bayesian evidence for theism. What does the totality of the evidence say?

We don’t know. We just don’t have the numbers. We don’t have good numbers as to how many investigations resulted in a clear failure to turn up a justification and how many have not. Nor do we have any really good estimates of the crucially important conditional probabilities for any particular evil, namely how likely we are to clearly fail to find a justification assuming God exists and how likely we are to clearly fail to find a justification assuming God doesn’t exist.

The answer to the question in the title of the post, then, is: Not much.

One might object that I stacked the deck by talking of clear failures to find a justification. Perhaps I should instead have talked of failures to clearly find a justification. Failures will then be much more common, and there will be very few cases of clear finding of a justification. However, at the same time, our expectation that we be able to clearly find a justification given God’s existence will not be that strong. For these are controversial matters, where clarity is hard to have, and we would expect them to be such. Indeed, it is not clear that assuming the existence of God we would ever expect to clearly have found a justification, because there could always be further evil consequences down the road that we did not take into account.

Learning of secret wickedness

When people learn that some apparently really decent person was a hypocrite who secretly practiced execrable vices, that tends to shake people’s faith in God. We can explain this by noting that the case provides one with a vivid case of moral evil, which provides evidence against the existence of God.

But we already knew that there was a lot of moral evil out there. So the effect on belief in God should not be very significant. And it is worth noting that learning of cases like the above can actually help with the problem of evil. In our time, we are very hesitant to use the punishment theodicy for evils that happen to people. But learning that there are more people with terrible hidden vices than we thought increases the probability that any particular evil befalling an apparently decent adult might actually be a well-deserved punishment.

Of course, a punishment theodicy will only go so far. It doesn’t apply to animals or small children. And the Book of Job teaches that it doesn’t apply to all cases of adults either. But realizing the dark truth that people who appear to be exemplars of virtue can be quite wicked should open us to the possibility that the punishment theodicy applies to a lot more cases than we thought.

Of course, the more cases we have to which the punishment theodicy applies, the more moral evils we have that need a theodicy as well. But free will considerations can help a lot with moral evils.

So it may well be that learning of someone’s secret evils is a wash in terms of the evidential import of the evil for God’s existence.

Sports injuries and the problem of evil

An argument from evil against the existence of God based on sports injuries would not, I think, be found very persuasive. Why not?

I take it that this is because of the retort: “The athletes freely undertook these risks.”

This free undertaking is not the whole of the explanation of why sports injuries are less troubling as examples of the problem of evil. Another part is the idea that there are significant goods at stake in sports, and real danger is a constitutive component of some of these goods. But that the risk is freely accepted is surely a major part of our lack of worry. We are much more worried about evils that befall those who did not freely undertake the relevant risks.

Note also that as a rule we do not—though there are notable exceptions—blame the athletes for freely undertaking the risks of sports injuries. We feel that, generally speaking, they are within their rights to undertake these risks for these potential benefits.

But if God exists, he is closer to us than we are to ourselves. He cares for our good more than we care for ourselves. And he has more rights over us than we have over ourselves. If this is correct, then just as we have the right (limited as it is) to accept certain serious risks, God has an even greater right to impose risks on us.

The observation that God would have more rights over us than do over ourselves by no means solves the problem of evil. But it helps.

Counting good and bad things

People sometimes wonder, perhaps in connection with the problem of evil, whether there is in total more good than evil in the world. The connection with the problem of evil is somewhat tenuous, of course. Even if it were agreed there is more good than evil, it could still be argued that there is gratuitous evil, inconsistent with the existence of God. And even if there is a God, there could presently be more evil than good, if, say, the evil is justified in connection with future good.

All that said, here is a question related to the question whether there is more good than evil:

• Are there more good things than bad things in the world?

I will argue that on two different takes on “things”, there are vastly more good things than bad—or even bad or neutral—things in the world as we know it. Even if we can generalize from the world as we know it, this still does not show that there is more good than evil: perhaps there are more goods, but the bad things are so very bad that the total evil is greater than the total good. Nonetheless, I think the answer has evidential bearing on the existence of God, because it would intuitively be at least a little bit more likely for there to be vastly more good things than bad or neutral things in the observed part of the world if God existed than if God didn’t exist.

On to the argument. On a first take, “things” are substances. Now, I think the best story about substance is a neo-Aristotelian one on which in the part of the world we collectively know, the substances are the organisms and the fundamental physical entities.

Now, our three best theories as to what the fundamental physical entities are is that they are:

1. particles,

2. global entities like fields and the wavefunction of the universe, or

3. particles and global entities.

Suppose that the correct answer is (a) or (c). Then in the known universe, the vast majority of substances are particles. There may be a lot of organisms in the world, but there are way more particles. And the number of global entities, like fields and the wavefunction, on our best theories is in the single digits. But every particle is good: it perfectly fulfills its nature, which is to dance its dance according to the beautiful mathematical laws of the universe. So, on (a) and (c), the vast majority of substances are good. (Maybe good in a very minor way.)

Suppose that the correct answer is (b). Then the substances of the known universe consist of organisms and probably a handful of global entities like fields or the wavefunction. The organisms outnumber the global entities so much that we can neglect the global entities and, besides, the global entities are good, for the same reason the particles are. Among the known organisms there are some that are bad. The clearest cases are a sizeable proportion of humans.

Whether there are any bad non-human organisms on earth (essentialy the only place we know of with organisms) depends on whether we count instrumental value. For if we limit ourselves to intrinsic badness, plausibly all organisms that aren’t persons are good (and there are many good persons), and non-personal organisms vastly outnumber personal ones. If badness (and goodness), however, includes instrumental assessment, then there are bad organisms. But how many? There may be some species most of whose members are bad: perhaps some mosquito species are like that. But it seems very plausible that such species form a very small portion of the whole, and that the vast majority of species are such that the vast majority of their members are good. (Quick thought experiment: Suppose by pressing a button you could wipe out a randomly chosen non-human species? Surely it would be a very, very bad idea to press the button.) So, it seems quite plausible that the vast majority of organisms are good.

On a second take, “things” include events in addition to substances. Well, now, the vast majority of events in the known universe seem to be purely physical events that are neither good nor bad for living things, and they do no harm to non-living things either. But they are an intrinsically good part of the dance of nature according to beautiful mathematical laws. So, it seems, the vast majority of events is good.

Heaven, the goods of others and the defeat of evil

There is a delight in competing athletically with one’s child: if they win, it feels good, and if one wins, it feels good, too. (The hedonic ideal is achieved when the child wins about 60% of the time; then one feels proud of their superiority, but not rarely one has the pleasure of beating a stronger opponent.)

Parental love makes it easy to love another as oneself (to paraphrase what C. S. Lewis says about Eros). It thus gives us an image of what it is like to be in heaven: we will greatly enjoy the goods had by others. This gives us an attractive picture of how the joy of heaven could fit with enduring differences in personal characteristics. Perhaps being an extrovert would not be true to my self and to God’s vocation for me, and so maybe even over an eternity in heaven I won’t be extroverted. But if so, I will still be fully happy for the joy of the heavenly extroverts, without any regret that I am not one of them, while they will be fully happy for me introverted joys, also without any regret that they are not like me.

Here are two controversial (for very different reasons) applications of this. First, there is a genuine and distinctive good in being a woman and there is a genuine and distinctive good in being a man, and it seems to make sense for a person to desire the goods of the other sex, regardless of whether it is possible to have them oneself. In heaven, however, Joseph can enjoy Mary’s good in being a woman and Mary can enjoy Joseph’s good in being a man, without Joseph regretting that he personally “only” has the good of manhood and Mary regretting that she personally “only” has the good of womanhood. That is what total love is like.

Second, given an eternalist or moving block theory of time, the past will always be fully real. This in turn gives us a solution to the problem that various important goods, such as marriage and self-sacrifice, will not be available in heaven. For we will be able to rejoice in others’ past possession of these goods, without regret for the fact that they aren’t ours and now.

The second point, however, raises the following problem: Won’t we also grieve for others’ past—and even present, if hell is a reality (as I think it is)—subjection to great evils? Maybe, but in God’s plan there is a crucial asymmetry between good and evil. Evils are defeated. How this defeat happens is deeply mysterious. But because of this defeat, I suspect the grief for a defeated evil will not hurt, precisely because of the evil’s being defeated, while goods remain undefeated and hence the joy for them will always delight.

In fact, the last point suggests something to me. A lot of philosophers of religion have said that it’s not enough for theodicy if evils are justly compensated for or their permission is in some way justified. We need these evils to be defeated. I think this is mistaken if all we are after is a response to the problem of evil. But we also need a response to the problem of why the past and present suffering of others doesn’t cause the saints pain in heaven. And it is here that we need the defeat of evil.

The Non-Identity Theodicy (Scott Hill) SCP session

The Analytic Collective and SCP are having an inaugural online session on August 21 at 4-5:30 pm Eastern Time to discuss Scott Hill's fascinating paper "The Non-Identity Theodicy". I will be commenting on the paper.

Abstract: This paper defends a theodicy based on ideas discussed in the literature on the non-identity problem and the literature on origin essentialism. I then address a series of objections about the ethics of God's acts in my theodicy and about the metaphysics of origins on which my theodicy depends.

Join the Analytic Collective facebook group for a Zoom link.

This is a pre-read session. The paper is here. And my comments are here.

The argument from apparently gratuitous evil

I think the following two claims are plausible:

1. If God exists and there is a lot of evil, then we would expect that some of the evil is such that we cannot see its point.

2. If God doesn’t exist and there is a lot of evil, then we would expect that some of the evil is such that we cannot see its point.

Premise 2 is pretty plausible: without God, and given a lot of evil, we’d expect evils to be pretty much random, some of them connected to goods that give them a point and others not. Now, if God exists and allows for a lot of evil, then there will be a point to all the evil allowed. And it would be intrinsically good for us to see the point of any particular evil, since knowledge is intrinsically good. But given the assumption that God has allowed a lot of evil, it would be surprising if all of this evil was such that its point (a) could be understood by us and (b) it would be on balance good for us to understand its point. In regard to (a), we can cite our cognitive limitations. In regard to (b), we can cite the fact that it is likely that some of the justifications for permissions of evil would involve soul-building, whereas it is very plausible that some soul-building would require techniques that are hidden from its beneficiaries.

Thus, once one has already taken into account the fact that there is a lot of evil, observing that there are evils that we cannot see the point of does not yield much evidence for or against the existence of God. It may, of course, yield some evidence if the degrees of expectation in (1) and (2) are different, but not much.

If this is right, then Rowe-style “evidential” arguments from evil don’t accomplish much beyond the “naive” argument that God wouldn’t allow so much evil.

Of course, one might try to argue that it’s not just the existence of pointless evil that is relevant, but how common it is. But then one would need to get into a messy discussion of just how common it is, and how common one would expect it to be on theism and on atheism.

Very large multiverses and trans-world depravity

Consider this standard bit of dialectic. One gives a Free Will Defense relying on the logical possibility of Trans-World Depravity:

1. TWD₁: In every feasible world, some significantly free creature sins at least once.

But the response is: “Yes, this shows that the existence of God is logically compatible with moral evil, but since TWD is exceedingly unlikely to be true, this does not help to counter the argument that it is exceedingly unlikely that God would create a world with no moral evil.” (Note: TWD₁ is logically weaker than Plantinga’s TWD but does the job just as well. Cf. this.)

Why think TWD₁ unlikely to be true? Well, confine our attention to strongly actualizable world cores (i.e., the aspects of the world that God would strongly actualize) containing involving a hundred independent significantly free choices with agential motives balanced between good and evil. For any such world core, the chance that all the choices would go right if the core were strongly actualized is something like (1/2)¹⁰⁰. So we would expect one in 2¹⁰⁰ such world cores to have the counterfactuals of freedom come out favorably, i.e., with all the choices being right. But there are infinitely many such world cores—each with a different collection of agents (to ensure independence between the counterfactuals holding of each core)—and so the probability that in some core the counterfactuals come out right should be extremely high (namely 1, given real-valued probabilities).

Now here is an interesting next step in that dialectic. Instead of working with the TWD, work with this:

2. TWD_ℵ1: In every feasible world containing uncountably infinitely many significantly free choices, at least one of these choices is wrong.

And then add the plausible intuition that it is likely that God would want to create a world with uncountably infinitely many significantly free choices (e.g., because he would probably want to create uncountably infinitely many significantly free people, perhaps in a multiverse).

The improbability response is much harder to make against TWD_ℵ1 than against TWD₁. Remember that the argument against TWD₁ worked by generating a sequence of worlds with independent conditionals of free will each of which had a probability of (1/2)¹⁰⁰ of being a counterexample to TWD₁. But we can’t do that with TWD_ℵ1. Given an uncountable infinity of significantly free choices, we would expect the probability that all these choices would be right if the world core were actualized is zero: it’s logically possible, but it’s even less likely than tossing a fair coin for every day of an infinite life and getting heads each time (for an infinite life would have countably many days). Granted, there is an uncountable infinity of world cores to try. But if the chance of each one being a counterexample to TWD_ℵ1 is zero, without some special argument we can’t assume there is a meaningful and high probability that at least one is a counterexample.

Technical note: I opted for worlds with uncountably infinitely many significantly free choices, because if the worlds had countably infinitely many significantly free choices, it might be possible to make the “it’s extremely unlikely” argument go. Imagine a countably infinite sequence of independent significantly free choices, where the nth choice has probability 1 − 2⁻ⁿ of going right. Then the probability that all the choices will be right is actually about 0.29. Using worlds like that, one could produce an argument that TWD_ℵ0 (i.e., what we get when we remove “uncountably” from (2)) is very unlikely to be true.

An unimportant hiccup with the Free Will Defense

There is a messy little gap in how the Free Will Defense is sometimes thought about—or at least has been thought about by me. First it is argued that the following Trans-World Depravity thesis is logically possible:

1. (TWD) In every feasible world, every significantly free creature sins at least once.

Then from the possibility of TWD, one wants to conclude:

2. God is justified in creating a world where some significantly free creature sins.

But (2) doesn’t follow from TWD. For TWD is logically compatible with:

3. In every feasible world, every significantly free creaturely action is a sin.

And it is far from clear that if (3) were true, then God would be justified in creating any world with significant freedom. Indeed, if (3) were true, we might think that a perfect being would end up creating a world with no significant freedom. I am not sure about this, but it is at least clear that to argue for (2) given (3) is an uphill battle.

So, what we needs to work with is not just TWD, but something stronger, like:

4. (TWD+) In every feasible world, every significantly free creature sins at least once, and in some feasible world there is a favorable balance of right to wrong exercises of significant freedom.

Of course, the kind of reasoning that leads Plantinga to accept the logical possibility of TWD would also lead one to accept the logical possibility of TWD+. So this is just a minor hiccup. (We may need some further specifications about that feasible world. But that’s not any more of a problem.)

And, in fact, we don’t need TWD+, but the weaker:

5. (TWD1+)In every feasible world with significantly free creatures, at least one significantly free creature sins at least once, and in some feasible world there is a favorable balance of right to wrong exercises of significant freedom.

This leads to a choice point for when we teach the Free Will Defense to undergraduates. We can either skip over the issue, and just ignore the fact that (2) doesn’t follow from TWD. Or we can make this into an object lesson of how some objections to an argument don’t really affect the heart of the argument but require “merely technical” revisions, like the move from TWD to TWD+. Students can then have good, clean and educational fun in refining TWD in various ways.

Historical note: This is not actually a logical error in Plantinga. At least in God, Freedom and Evil, Plantinga does not claim that (2) follows from TWD. Rather, Plantinga just says that it is obvious that TWD is compatible with the thesis that God creates a world containing moral good. I think, though, to defend this quick claim, Plantinga will need to uphold something like TWD+.

Against the actual truth of transworld depravity

Here is an interesting result. If the Biblical account of creation is true, then Plantinga’s Trans-World Depravity (TWD) thesis is false. All this doesn’t affect Plantinga’s Free Will Defense which only needs the logical possibility of TWD, but it limits its usefulness a little by making clear that the defense is based on an actually-false assumption. (Quick review: Plantinga uses the logical possibility of TWD to argue for the logical possibility of evil. That argument would survive my critique. But he also suggests that TWD is epistemically possible, and hence could be the heart of a theodicy. That move does not survive, I think.)

I’ll take TWD to be:

1. Every significantly free creature in every feasible world does wrong.

A feasible world is one that would eventuate from God’s strongly actualizing the strongly strongly actualized portion of it.

But now consider this thesis which is very plausible on the Biblical account of creation:

2. At least one human made a significantly free right choice before any human made a free wrong choice.

For the first sin in the Biblical account is presented as Eve’s taking of the forbidden fruit in Genesis 3. But prior to that, indeed prior to Eve’s creation, Adam was commanded to take care of the garden (Gen. 2:15). It would have been a sin for Adam to fail to do that, and since this was before the first sin, it follows that Adam must have done it. Moreover, Adam being a full human being presumably had freedom of will, and hence was capable of refusing to work the garden. Hence Adam’s decision to obey God’s command to work the garden was a significantly free choice before any human made a free wrong choice.

Now, I don’t take the story of Genesis 2-3 to be literally true, but it tells us basic truths about the entry of evil into the world, and hence it is very likely that the structural claim (2) carries over into reality from the story.

I now argue that:

3. If (2) is true, then TWD is false.

Right after the first human made a significantly free right choice, God had the power to prevent any further significantly free choices from ever being made. Had God exercised that power, the world would have contained a creature—namely, the human who made the significantly free right choice—that is a counterexample to TWD. Moreover, the world where God exercises that power is plainly feasible. Hence, (1) is false, since in (1) there is a significantly free creature that does the right thing.

That said, Plantinga’s TWD is stronger than it needs to be for his defense. All he really needs to work with is:

4. Every feasible world that contains a significantly free creaturely right choice contains a free creaturely wrong choice.

And the world where God intervenes and prevents significantly free choices after the first human significantly free right choice is not a counterexample to (4), since prior to the creation of humans there was already sin by angels.

Note, though, that someone who wants to defend (4) by invoking the prior sin of angels needs to hold that the first humans would have sinned in their first significantly free choice had God not created angels or not given angels significant free will, no matter what circumstances the first humans were placed in. In other words, the defender of (4) has to hold that the actual righteousness of the first human significantly free choice has a strong counterfactual dependence on angelic freedom. The only plausible way I know of defending something like this is to say that angelic free choices are a part of human causal history and that essentiality of origins is true. So, interestingly, to hold that the weakened TWD thesis (4) is true seems to require both invoking the sin of angels and essentiality of origins.

Moreover, the defender of the actual truth of (4) would need to hold that the first angelic wrong choice preceded the first angelic significantly free right choice. For suppose an angelic significantly free choice came before any angelic sin. Then, again, God could have suspended free will right after that choice, and not created humans at all, and we would have a feasible world that is a counterexample to (4). Next, suppose that the first angelic significantly free choice was simultaneous with the first angelic sin. Presumably, the two were committed by different angels. But God could have suspended the freedom of those angels who in the actual world sin (this does not even require Molinism: God doesn’t need to know that they would sin to suspend their freedom), and plausible the simultaneous significantly free right choices of the other angels would still have eventuated. And then God could have suspended freedom altogether, thereby furnishing us with another feasible world that is a counterexample to (4).

One can modify (4) in various ways to get around this. For instance, one could say this:

5. Every feasible world that contains a significantly free creaturely right choice and that contains many generations of significantly free creatures contains a free creaturely wrong choice.

But note that if (5) is true, then one needs to invoke more than the value of freedom in saying that God is justified in creating a world with evil. One needs the value of multi-generational freedom.