Theism and Moral Anti-Realism

Theism and Moral Anti-Realism

What are the logical relations between theism and moral anti-realism?[1] First, we must define our terms (tedious work but it has to be done). Let theism be the doctrine that something like the Judeo-Christian God exists (not just any old type of God): not only morally perfect but also the very foundation of human morality. This God makes right and wrong; he doesn’t just accept morality for what it already and independently is. And let moral anti-realism be the doctrine that morality (moral truth) depends on the states of mind and action of suitable agents—it is an agent-centered theory of morality. This type of metaethics comes in two types and a variety of forms: divine and human; and invoking the concepts of commandment, law, approval, belief, and desire. Thus, we have divine and human commandment theories, or divine and human law theories, or divine and human approval theories, or divine and human belief theories, or divine and human desire theories—depending on what, specifically, morality is supposed to depend on. For example, we might have the theory that the goodness of keeping promises depends on the fact that God believes that keeping promises is good—or that humans have that belief. The most familiar anti-realist theory of this type is that morality consists of a set of divine commandments—God commands us not to break our promises, say. We could also have a secular version of this type of theory: people command us not to break our promises—this is one of our laws.Such theories are aptly described as anti-realist because they insist that moral truth does not exist independently of states of mind and action—it isn’t just “out there” waiting to be discovered. It depends on what selected agents deem to be moral—constitute as moral. States of affairs are not good or bad in themselves but relative to a mind that evaluates them. In this sense, values are “in the head” (the mind, the soul, the heart) not “in the world”. They are subjective not objective. So, our question becomes: What is the logical relation between theism in the sense defined and moral anti-realism in the sense defined? In particular, does one doctrine entail the other?

Some things are clear. In the first place, theism implies moral anti-realism, because the God we are talking about is taken to have a nature that operates to determine the content of morality. This God fixes what is right and wrong—he creates them, provides their foundation. If he didn’t, he would be that (type of) God. And so, morality depends for its existence and content on God’s will—as in the divine commandment theory. The pointof God (or one of his principal points) is to sow the seeds of morality, not just witness it as already formed—he is the architect of morality not merely an observer of it. Thus, if there is a God, we know that morality must take the form specified—the divine commandment theory must be true. Accordingly, moral truths must be analyzable as commands of some type; they must have an imperatival structure. They must logically be in the nature of laws: originating from a legislator, a controlling agent, an author. We can therefore infer the metaphysical character of moral truth from the truth of theism. Theism entails a moral metaphysics (meaning, logical form). A moral truth says that certain actions are commanded by a (divine) agent—“God commands us to keep our promises”. The converse entailment is more complex. It is not difficult to see that a divine commandment theory entails theism: if moral truths are divine commandments, then there has to be a divine commander. The commands have to issue from a suitable being, divine in nature—God, in a word. But what about a human commandment theory? Suppose we were convinced that moral propositions have a command-like structure—semantically, logically. It wouldn’t follow that the commands in question issue from God, so theism would not be entailed. It might be the case that the commands issue from humans—say, humans in one’s own society (parents, priests, the police). The commandment theory doesn’t entail theism taken by itself. But it can be tweaked to enable the inference in question: for human commandments are local, fallible, and relative—while moral truths are universal. Given that moral truths are absolute and universal—promise-keeping is right for anyone anywhere—we know that they cannot be constituted by the actions or attitudes of one set of humans or another, because these vary. If moral rules are not relative, then the commandments that ground them cannot be particular groups of people, because they can vary in their opinions and consequent rulings; the rules have to come from an agent that is not fallible and variable. So, given that morality is absolute not relative, and given that it has a command-like structure, it must issue from something like a commanding God, not from human beings (or other fallible and variable creatures). Thus, theism must be true: the existence of a universal morality founded on commandments implies that God is the author of the commandments that constitute it. We can deduce the existence of God from this kind of moral anti-realism plus an injection of universality. Of course, we can’t make this deduction if relativism is actually true; then we are left with a morality varying according to the attitudes of particular groups of people. But it is still a substantive result that theism follows from moral anti-realism plus universality. Contraposing, if theism is nottrue, then nor is the conjunction of moral anti-realism and universality. The atheist moral realist will contend that the fault lies in the assumption of anti-realism, i.e., the commandment theory of moral truth. Universality is fine, but morality does not depend on anyone’s commandments, human or divine. It depends only on itself—on whether moral properties are instantiated or not. Promise-keeping is good no matter what anyone thinks about it, or legislates, or advocates.

One sees here an opening for the theist moralist: if he can establish that moral propositions are command-like (prescriptive, law-like), then he can proceed to argue that morality needs a divine commander, since humans won’t do on account of their fallibility and variability. And some have thought to discern just such an analysis of moral language: moral utterances are demonstrably imperatival in form and function—they have commanding built into them. Now we see that a lot hangs on this: for if they are imperatival in nature, then we have the beginnings of an argument for theism and a God-based moral metaphysics. The atheist moralist had better deny this in no uncertain terms; he had better be a “descriptivist” about moral discourse. It had better state facts, make truth-evaluable assertions, correspond to reality, etc. For, just as moral realism leads to atheism, so moral anti-realism leads to theism. Mind-dependence raises the question of whose mind, and human minds are not cut out for the job of grounding universal morality, thus leading inexorably to God. My own preference is for atheism and moral realism, since I don’t believe in God (for reasons I could go into) and I don’t believe that moral language is semantically imperatival or command-like (also for reasons I could go into). What I am doing now is sketching the logical lie of the land—what implies what. The logical links exist and pull us in different directions depending on our assumptions. What emerges is that atheism and moral realism go together, while theism and moral anti-realism go together—not exactly what the tradition would lead us to expect (the exact opposite, in fact). The moral realist is an implicit non-believer; the moral anti-realist is in danger of falling into religious belief. The only way out is to deny universality while claiming mind-dependence: morality is relative, subjective, and variable (over time and place). That is the price of rejecting moral realism while sticking with atheism—you end up denying morality in the form in which it presents itself, i.e., as a set of universal normative principles. I myself believe that this is a hopeless position, theoretically and practically—the worst combination of views possible (though widely maintained). I think even theistic anti-realism is preferable (though also repugnant). The clear winner is atheistic moral realism: morality is universal, autonomous (not mind-dependent), and incompatible with God as God is normally understood. We live in a Godless world of universal mind-independent moral truths. Promise-keeping is good always and everywhere; it is good independently of what anyone thinks or commands, human or divine; and the nature of this goodness rules out the existence of God as traditionally conceived (since divine commandment theories are inherently anti-realist and there is no point in a God that has nothing to do with creating morality). You may not love this picture, for one reason or another, but take comfort in the fact that the other possible positions are even worse. Philosophy is hard in more ways than one. The problem of morality is that it forces us into positions we might find uncomfortable.[2]

[1] This paper is a companion to my “Atheism and Moral Realism”.

[2] I actually don’t find the recommended position uncomfortable, but I know that many people do. Perhaps I am hardened to it after years of cohabitation. I like the idea of a morality that exists outside of us and is indifferent to the will of a supposed God. It has its own existence and doesn’t need God to shore it up. I think God takes the same view (or would if he existed). Morality is neither divine nor human—not in God and not in us. Morality is. It is what it is and not some other thing. That idea doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t make me shake or shiver or feel funny inside. It seems…sensible. What is peculiar and perturbing is trying to think of morality either in terms of theism or human construction—as supernatural or psychologically reducible. Morality is made neither by God nor man. Things are good or bad in themselves not in virtue of something existing outside of them.