The argument from suffering - the coercion problem
In my last post I examined what I see as the ‘counterfactual problem’ with the argument from suffering: that in order to succeed as an argument against the existence of God, it requires access to knowledge we cannot possibly have, and that any hypothetical example of gratuitous suffering can be undermined by the provision of a counterfactual hypothesis. Now I would like to look at a slightly deeper issue with the argument; I think this issue goes underappreciated in discussions about God and suffering. All too often it is assumed that God could just intervene to stop evil the moment before it is committed- say, to cause the murderer to drop dead of an aneurysm just as he brings his knife against his helpless victim. Typically, this is held up as the natural, valid assumption about what a good God should do; the fact that God does not do it, then, must represent some kind of indictment of theistic belief. I think that this is profoundly misguided, and that it stems from a surface-level analysis of the issues at stake.
There is a question which always arises for me whenever I hear critiques such as the one outlined above: "what exactly do you think God intends for us?" It is all well and good to say that God should not let us suffer; the problem, to my mind, is that we have not established why we should expect this. The rejoinder may come: "suffering is obviously inherently wrong, therefore we should expect God not to allow it." This, I find, is the standard view of the issue among secular, Western people; it is also deeply unsatisfying. It foists on God a hedonic understanding of ethics which I would not ascribe even to other human beings. No sensible person, in my experience, really acts as though the purpose of life is to avoid suffering. A minor amendment might therefore be in order: "gratuitous suffering is inherently wrong, therefore we should expect God not to allow it." With this I am in full agreement, and I hasten to point out that the argument has now definitively reached its limit. By definition, it is impossible for a human being, limited as we are, to point to any example of suffering and identify it beyond reasonable doubt as gratuitous. Our perspective is greatly hampered; surely, if God exists (as the argument from suffering must presuppose), then there are realities at play which far escape our understanding.
Alright, then- what is God’s intention? If we can’t say that any suffering is gratuitous, then what can we say about why God would allow it? This brings us to the heart of the matter. I contend that one possible reason is that God intends for us to cultivate virtue, and to use our free will to become better and better people over the course of our lives. This is one of the reasons that we human beings have a moral sense, and a conscience which, try as we might in the moment of temptation, we cannot silence. I intend to treat the concept of virtue ethics in much more depth in the future; for now, it will suffice to say that a virtue-ethical worldview solves many of the problems associated with the argument from suffering. Here I outline a very important use case.
God’s intention for each and every one of us is that we should become better and more virtuous. To this end we have free will, and an awareness of a normative demand which is placed on us: to cultivate such virtues as bravery, compassion, self-sacrifice, and love. In doing so, we imitate He who made us. If we take this understanding of virtue as the desideratum, and apply it to the question of why God would allow a murderer to perpetrate their evil desires, then the issue becomes clearer. Let me put it to you with an example. Suppose I have two children, each of whom receive one hundred pounds. To the first I say, "I leave you wholly in charge of your spending; I only ask that you use this money wisely." To the second I say, "I will watch your spending like a hawk, and if I am not happy with it, I will not give you any more." Both children then proceed to make a good use of their money. In the first case, the child has acted with clear virtue; left to their own devices, they have done what is right. In the second case, however, there is an uncomfortable question: were they acting virtuously, or were they simply afraid of not receiving any more money in the future and thus acting in their own self-interest?
One might respond that there is ultimately no difference, because both spent the money wisely. This is wrong; there is a world of difference. Goodness and virtue cannot be coerced. If they are, they lose all value. Instead of good people who can be trusted with responsibility, you end up with mercenaries who will do what outwardly appears ‘good’ because it pays better than the alternative. Without coercion, you have the possibility of people pursuing the good for its own sake; as soon as you introduce coercion, you raise the problem of self-interest. The implications of this should be clear. If virtue is to be attained, it must be the case that good actions do not always benefit us materially; there must be times when to pursue virtue is a harder and less immediately gratifying task than not. Likewise, if someone wishes to perpetrate evil, it must be possible for them to carry out their intent to the full. If every time they attempt an evil act they are stopped by an invisible force, then it is meaningless to talk about any of their other actions being ‘good’. The option is not on the table for them, and therefore they cannot be lauded for not taking it.
The introduction of a virtue-ethical framework radically alters the terms of the argument. Before, the simple fact of suffering was enough to cast doubt on God’s goodness; now, we must reckon with suffering as an integral component of the pursuit of virtue. In the absence of suffering, virtue is impossible; take away the human potential for evil, and you take away the human potential for good. Any attempt to coerce people into good behaviour- say, by causing a person to blink out of existence immediately prior to the evil deed they intended to commit, as I have heard it suggested- cannot possibly have the desired effect.