The Problem of Evil is Not an Intellectual Problem

A photo of a PhD thesis

In my book on the problem of evil and elsewhere, I present an argument to the conclusion that theism is morally problematic. But it would be a mistake to think that I am pronouncing judgement on the theist. It would be a mistake to think I’m straightforwardly offering this argument as a reason to accept the conclusion. I’m not saying that theistic belief is morally unsupportable per se. And this is certainly not an argument for atheism.

This argument is a result of my reflections on the problem of evil as an ethical problem, not what we could call the ‘intellectual problem’ of weighing up the rationality of theistic belief. As I see it, an ethical problem does not work in the same way as an intellectual problem. It has different purposes, different aims, a different scope.

Intellectual Problems

The purpose of intellectual problems, as I am using the term, is to find the truth or the ‘right answer’; ordinarily the ‘objective’ or real truth, not just the truth as I see it (which would not be enough of a solution to an intellectual problem). It is intended to settle a matter of fact.

The problem of evil tends to be understood in this way: it is an attempt to get a clear picture of the real state of things, one of many tools (or arguments) that we use in our attempts to ascertain whether or not God exists. It serves this purpose; it’s like a saw that cuts wood. But this is not how I am treating the problem.

Let me offer some examples to make it clearer what I have in mind:

The task of calculating how much tax I owe is an intellectual problem. It’s a combination of empirical facts and mathematical calculations. It is ethically-relevant, obviously, but it’s distinct from the questions of whether I ought to pay tax or how much I ought to be taxed. The ethical problem is whether and how much tax there ought to be, the intellectual problem is then the calculation of the objective ‘right answer’ according to those ethically-guided aims.

These problems are separable. The calculation itself requires no moral understanding: a machine could do it. You could say it is my responsibility that this intellectual problem be solved – because I am responsible for ensuring that my tax is paid – but the problem itself is not necessarily my problem to solve. Because of this, I can detach myself from it and suffer no loss. I can hand the calculation over to someone else to do for me; and perhaps I ought to do this, if I’m not confident I will get the right answer.

This is what I mean by an intellectual problem. As I am using the term, intellectual problems can be called impersonal. There is nothing in an intellectual problem that says I must solve it.

Obviously it’s different in the specific context of studying for examinations and such (where the purpose isn’t so much to find the objective truth but to demonstrate your personal understanding of it), but as a rule I can ask you to solve an intellectual problem for me and nothing is lost in that. I can outsource my intellectual pursuit of the objective truth. I can read a report of scientific data and take it as informative; I don’t need to gather the data myself in order for it to be meaningful. In fact, that is intellectual understanding at its best and truest, because subjective perspectives are generally considered a corrupting influence on purely intellectual matters: in the pursuit of ‘the facts’ you are called to be as objective as possible; you are called to take yourself out of the matter as much as possible.

Ethical Problems

Ethical problems, by contrast, as I am using the term, are irreducibly personal. An ethical problem is something that I must solve.

I cannot ask you to make my ethical decisions for me because, if I do so, they cease to be my decisions and so cease to be ethical decisions at all: in that circumstance, the ethical decision I have made is to not make a decision. I have abdicated. I have just passed the buck and taken no responsibility. And whilst I can inform my ethical understanding, I cannot outsource it.

My ethical life is my responsibility, as yours is yours. When it comes to settling on my ethical values, I must decide where I stand, and only I can decide this because it is me that has to stand behind my words. You must decide where you stand.

The Problem of Evil as an Intellectual Problem

What, then, is the purpose of philosophising about the problem of evil? What is the scope of the problem?

As an intellectual problem, it is to find the objective truth of the matter. It is to settle the question of whether or not God exists, or at least appraise the rationality of theism. This is, in principle, an impersonal exercise. I can (and perhaps should) outsource it to better minds than my own. If I want good bread, I should go to a baker. If I want good knowledge, I should go to an expert. But if I am the academic ‘expert’ then it would seem to be up to me to provide you with an answer. Is this what I’m doing?

Say I have found the objective truth of the matter, and I present this to you as an argument: what is the purpose of that? To show you that you are mistaken (unless you agree with me)? What is it to me if you are mistaken about this matter? Surely your ethical and religious beliefs are your own responsibility, not mine. Who am I to tell you what to believe, objectively, about these things?

Perhaps it would be different if you were my student and I were your teacher and I had some kind of duty to furnish you with true beliefs. But is that the case? Have you asked for a lesson? Can I impose my teaching on you, when you have not asked for it? And if I am a good teacher, can I be proud of that imposition, when I know that few will be taught who are not willing to learn?

What is my aim in presenting an argument to people who I know will disagree with me? Is it to show you that you are stupid? Why would I want to do that; what good would it do me (or you)? And why would I care if you are stupid? I know there are many stupid people in the world; it would be an odd thing to care about and even dedicate a life to, telling them all that they are stupid. Can I be so sure that you are stupid, and I am not? Is it then to show everyone else (who has sense enough to see) that I am not stupid, but clever? And yet if I really am clever, can I be proud of that aim?

What possible purpose could it serve for me to provide you with an answer to the problem of evil? I mean that to be a serious question. Treated as an intellectual problem, I think you will struggle to find a purpose that you can be proud of. Can we be surprised, then, when writing on the topic becomes defensive, grandiose, condescendingly combative, and full of nit-picking self-importance?

The Problem of Evil as an Ethical Problem

If the problem of evil is, instead, an ethical problem, what is the purpose of philosophising about it?

As an ethical problem, is it an irreducibly personal problem. It is a part of my ethical life. I want to be good and do right; I want to orient myself rightly in the world; I want to have true beliefs about what really matters and to live as much as I can in alignment with those beliefs; I want to live well as a human being. This is my responsibility, not yours. And your ethical life is your responsibility, not mine. What good would it do either of us for me to provide you with ‘the answer’ when any answer must be your own?

To put it bluntly: the ‘answer’ is not the aim here; the process is the aim. I am not offering an answer: I am provoking you to find your own answer. That is why I say that it would be a mistake to think that I am offering my argument as a reason to accept the truth of the conclusion. I am not doing that, because that would be to offer this conclusion as an answer to the intellectual problem of the problem of evil, an attempt to settle the ‘objective truth’ of the matter. But the problem of evil is not an intellectual problem; it is an ethical problem, and it calls for a different kind of response. It calls for your response.

If I am offering any argument then it is to the effect that treating the problem of evil as an intellectual problem will not get you the answers you are looking for. The problem of evil is better thought of as an ethical problem. My intention has been to show this whilst saying something else. I ‘say’ that theism is morally problematic. In arguing so, I ‘show’ that ethical considerations are most fundamental to our understanding of the problem of evil. It is an ethical problem to its core; why treat it as anything else?

I think these reflections point to the true purpose of philosophising about the problem of evil. The purpose of philosophising about the problem of evil is to gain moral understanding, not intellectual understanding. And moral understanding is essentially personal. To gain moral understanding from the problem of evil, we need to treat it as a moral problem, an ethical question. We need to understand the problem of evil within the context of our ethical lives, with the purpose of informing those ethical lives, and that is something only we can do.

It is a matter of understanding where you stand. You already know that child abuse (and genocide, slavery, etc.) is unjustifiable. Remain true to yourself and anti-theodicy will follow naturally.

Read more: The Problem of Evil as an Ethical Problem

Read more: Think Well, Live Well: A Free Introduction to Philosophy

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