Just a quick follow-up to my recent post, "Vicious Philosophical Reasoning?". In response to my post, Keith DeRose brought to my attention Nick Trakakis' recent article, "Theodicy: The Solution to the Problem of Evil, or Part of the Problem?". I definitely recommend reading it. Here are a few choice excerpts that spoke to me, beginning with several amazing passages by D.Z. Phillips and Kenneth Surin:
It is true that sometimes considering a matter further is a sign of reasonableness and maturity. But this cannot be stated absolutely, since at other times readiness to be open-minded about matters is a sign of a corrupt mind. There are screams and screams, and to ask of what use are the screams of the innocent, as Swinburne’s defense would have us do, is to embark on a speculation we should not even contemplate. We have our reasons, final human reasons, for putting a moral full stop at many places. (Phillips 2004, p. 115)
Theodicy, by its very nature, involves the application of the principles of reason to a cluster of problems which are essentially such that they cannot be resolved by the mere application of rational principles. Evil and suffering in their innermost depths are fundamentally mysterious; they confound the human mind. And yet the goal of theodicy is, somehow, to render them comprehensible, explicable. (Surin 1986, pp. 52-3)
Given the nature of many of the evils human beings undergo, it would make little sense to speak of compensations for them after death. It does not even make sense to speak of compensation, in this life, with respect to many of our losses – the loss of a child, the end of a friendship, various forms of injustice which create harm, a harm done to someone who dies before any restitution can be made and so on. In some of these circumstances, the law decrees financial compensation, but one almost always hears those who receive it say, ‘Nothing, of course, can compensate for…’ Faced with this undeniable fact the picture cannot change by changing the landscape from an earthly to a heavenly one. (Phillips 2004, pp. 85-86).
And finally Trakakis:
Some theodicies, I concede, do appear to create hope and meaning even in situations where there seemed to be none. But such hope and meaning is, I claim, illusory. For the kind of meaning theodicies offer does not help us make moral sense of tragedy and misfortune, but rather (as argued earlier) provides a picture of suffering that has all manner of morally (and socially) unwelcome consequences, such as undermining our moral practices, failing to countenance the full depth of evil, and treating the sufferer as a mere means to some divine end, usually an end that the sufferer has not themselves chosen or endorsed. People in the midst of great adversity often sense this, and that is indeed why, in many cases, offering a theodicy to someone who is undergoing some terrible suffering has the counter-productive effect of adding to that person’s woes, or at least bringing them little or no comfort.
In attempting to make sense of the realities of evil and suffering, theodicists inculcate a sense of detachment both in themselves and in their readers. They never stop to ask, however, whether we should, or even could, be detached from the stark realities of evil in the ways they propose. No question is ever raised as to whether there might be some moral danger involved in promoting a strategy of detachment...
Thus, the distancing strategies promoted by those who approach theodicy as a purely theoretical undertaking only add to the evils of the world, rather than illuminating or counteracting them.
Kenneth Surin, similarly, argues that the theoretical pursuit of theodicy can have disastrous moral consequences, not only for writers and readers of theodicies, but for society at large. To view theodicy as an exclusively academic undertaking, notes Surin, "…is already to possess the perspective on good and evil which Max Weber found to be characteristic of modern times; namely, an essentially bureaucratic view of the nature of good and evil. [Surin explains by way of a footnote that, ‘It is typical of the bureaucratic view of good and evil that it regards them in an abstract way, as something involving roles of office, administrative procedures, protocols, etc., but rarely personal guilt and responsibility. The evil bureaucrat par excellence, who rendered evil “banal”, was of course Adolf Eichmann.’] If this is in fact the case, then to regard theodicy as a purely intellectual exercise is to provide – albeit unwittingly – a tacit sanction for the evil that exists on our appalling planet." (Trakakis 2014, pp. 183-4).
Or, as Trakakis' epigraph states, "No statement, theological or otherwise, should be made that would not be credible in the presence of the burning children." – Rabbi Greenberg (1989: 315)
- Greenberg, I. (1989). Cloud of smoke, pillar of fire. In Roth and Berenbaum (Eds.), Holocaust: Religious and philosophical implications. pp. 305–345
- Phillips, D. Z. (2004). The problem of evil and the problem of God. London: SCM Press
- Surin, K. (1986). Theology and the problem of evil. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.
Hi Marcus, Have you read "Evil in Modern Thought: An Alternative History of Philosophy" by chance? If not you would probably really like it. The blub on Amazon gives a good sense of the overall narrative of the book.
Posted by: Brad Cokelet | 02/06/2015 at 12:10 PM
Hi Brad: No, but thanks for bringing it to my attention. It looks really interesting! How did you come across it?
Posted by: Marcus Arvan | 02/06/2015 at 05:26 PM
That paper is also included as a chapter in Trakakis's book, The End of Philosophy of Religion. In general, I like his approach to this issue. In the context of the book, the paper also gestures towards a kind of poetic/ethical reimagining of the discipline of philosophy of religion. While I don't agree with some elements of Trakakis's approach (e.g. the broad characterizations of “analytic” and “continental” approaches to philosophy of religion), the ethical aspects of his reimagining of the field — or approaches to topics, like evil — I find insightful.
Posted by: Thomas Carroll | 02/07/2015 at 07:11 AM
I take it that there is nothing morally illicit in pointing to the horrific instances of suffering found in the world as evidence that God doesn't exist, right? (Or is there something morally illicit about it? Is there just as much of an instrumentalization of people's suffering by arguers from evil as there is by theodicists?) If I'm right, I take it as well, from this post along with the articles cited in it, that people who believe in God's existence aren't morally permitted to try to defend their belief in God other than through personal faith, religious experience, or natural theology?
In other words, is this saying: atheists are permitted to argue against the existence of God, but theists aren't permitted to defend against their reasons?
Posted by: Robert Gressis | 02/09/2015 at 10:57 AM
These are very good questions.
I don’t see the passages above from Trakakis as putting a "full-stop" on the constructing of theodicies; instead, he seems to call out “the distancing strategies promoted by those who approach theodicy as a purely theoretical undertaking” (as qtd above, pp. 183-4). Yet elsewhere in the article, Trakakis writes, "Those presently undergoing suffering, in their time of despair and desperation, are hardly going to be persuaded, let alone comforted, by the reassurances of the theodicist.” (p. 189)
While I would tend to agree with Trakakis on this point in general, I can imagine contexts where the giving of a theodicy might be morally good, where it might reduce suffering. Think of someone whose suffering leads to a waning sense of faith or identity, a waning that leaves the person un- or ill-equipped to deal with the suffering, and then consider a theistic argument being given, possibly by someone who cares for the suffering person, in such a way that it edifies that faith or identity, equipping the sufferer to better face their circumstances. (In this way, the giving of the argument might be an expression of care.) I can also imagine contexts where it might be morally good for one person to give an atheistic argument to another person who is suffering so as to disabuse that person of certain theistic beliefs that might be adding to her suffering. (This instance of argument-giving might also be an expression of care.) Very good discernment would be needed to differentiate what is suitable in a given context, which is why I imagine relationships of care being relevant.
Despite this (perhaps slight) difference with Trakakis, I am in broad agreement with him in that horrendous instances of suffering tend to call for a forgoing of the distancing strategies of theodical argument (and here I would add atheistic argument from suffering) and some different response would be suitable, morally speaking (including, at times, remaining silent).
Posted by: Thomas Carroll | 02/10/2015 at 03:57 AM