Whenever the subject
of one's skepticism towards the existence of a god and the efficacy
or desirability of religion arises in more than a passing fashion the
posing of this question seems inevitable. Although it is just a
restatement of Pascal's Wager, which has been addressed in any number
of ways over the years, I would like to share a few additional, and I
hope fresh, thoughts.
The first (and most
obvious) implication is that I am a fool to not conform to the
questioner’s religious beliefs – in essence, the question is
really an assertion that while no possible harm could come from such
conformance, any outcome would for me be either positive (eternal
life) or neutral (no different than if I had stuck with unbelief).
This strikes me as
both a weak and a selfish argument. It is weak with regards to the
power it holds to convince someone holding any but than the most
cursory objections. It is normally employed as a last-ditch effort
when all other means have been tried and failed. It offers no
compelling reason; in short, it is a childish, playground-style
challenge.
The deeper objection
I have to this position stems from its oft-ignored selfish
implications. In order to see this clearly, it is necessary to
consider our moral framework.
Morality at its most
essential is the mutually agreed-upon set of norms governing the
interrelation-ships among individuals. It has to do with the bonds
and tensions we share as a society and as cultural beings. In much
the same way that we could not be what we understand as “human
beings” without shared culture, morality could not exist without a
society; in this sense, society is a place where individuals’ (and
clustered groups') self-interests clash with those of others. The
resolution of such conflicts over time by negotiation, mutual
cooperation, discussion, and all the other means at our disposal are
what bring about, define, and sustain morals. Without such
interchanges there is neither place for nor need of the concept of
morality. Pure self-interest, and action based on such as the only
consideration, emerges as the antithesis of true morality when
considered in this way.
The motivations
behind our actions therefore speak to their morality. An act must be
judged thus in part by the presence or absence of consideration for
the concerns of those other than the actor, not just by whether its
consequences are beneficial to only others, and not just by the
balance of beneficence and maleficence in its consequences. An
inattentive and careless man that accidentally bumps into a bystander
and thus prevents her from mistakenly stepping into the path of an
oncoming truck is not committing an act that we could call moral, nor
would we label as strictly immoral the same act if it resulted in her
death – he clearly has neither benign nor ill intent outright.
Only actions taken where it is fully and correctly realized that
there are no consequences beyond the self are truly amoral actions,
and only actions taken with full knowledge and intent of (or with
callous disregard for) pernicious effects on others with no attempt
at mitigation can be completely immoral actions. An act that one
knows will affect others, for better or worse, can be called a moral
act or an act with moral implications.
Intentions, though,
are only part of what defines the quality of moral actions; changes
in the relationship of oneself to the rest of society or to
individual elements existing within it carry significant weight in
this regard. For example, if an ostensibly altruistic act changes
the relationship, the nature of that change speaks to the moral
caliber of the act on an equal footing with its intent. If I were
to throw myself in the path of a bullet to save the life of a
stranger's child, this would certainly be considered altruistic, but
such claims would likely ring hollow for my own children, my wife, my
extended family, and close friends. No doubt many who commit suicide
do so in the belief that they are somehow “helping” society but
instead end up causing enormous despair and suffering in those to
whom they were closest. In both cases intentions may be noble but
the consequences can be devastating.
We understand that
an act which alleviates suffering appears higher on the moral scale
proportional to the amount of suffering it alleviates. We can also
talk similarly of acts that elevate the human condition in general,
where human condition refers to the ability of individuals to
plan, direct, and lead productive, beneficial, fulfilling, and happy
lives of their own.
If we believe in a
shared moral code that in any way obligates us to help those in need,
then clearly we should target our efforts first at those we are able
to help whose need is greatest, and we should measure out our
assistance proportional to the amount of need. All other
considerations are secondary to these aspects of the moral
imperative, and any actions that counter or impede them are to some
degree immoral, or at best serve to diminish what can be imagined as
the “optimal good.”
So,
what if I am wrong?
Since a decision to
conform with the questioner’s wishes merely by the force of the
questioner's statement (the “challenge”) would be made on the
basis of a completely self-centered concern, such a decision is not
moral (in the sense of a “good” moral act) – it is amoral at
best, but I contend that it would be in effect an immoral one –
that is, the quality of such a decision can and should be evaluated
using the moral framework and by this measure comes out to the
negative.
Now without claiming
that I am a paragon of charitable virtue, I can state with confidence
that were I to suddenly agree with the questioner and conform, there
would be some subset of my current efforts that would be redirected
towards my new-found religious endeavors. This subset could be a
small or a substantial portion of my total output, and if we assume
that at least some of those efforts are beneficial in their present
form to society at large, without prejudice or preference, it becomes
obvious that a decision to conform would in all probability be a
moral decision – that is, it would fall within the sphere of
judgment as either moral or immoral. A simple example would be if I
joined a church that expected me to tithe 10% of my income, whereas
before I had donated 4% of my income to Doctors Without Borders
(which the tithe makes me unable to afford any longer). I might
also have volunteered at the local public school, but now, due to
obligations at church, I can no longer devote time to this service
for the school.
Consider also how plain it is to any
observer that the demands imposed by the religious camps of the most
vociferous and persistent questioners are typically much higher than
the demands coming from those who are driven by lower urgency. That
is to say, religious concerns take the largest amount of effort and
devotion from the lives of those who proselytize the most vigorously.
Those who are less motivated (and thus less pressing in their urging
of others to conform) come from traditions that have fewer demands on
their adherents.
If I were to agree
to accept the challenge, I would therefore redirect some portion of
my efforts, on a scale that would likely be proportional to the
effort put forth towards pressing my conformance, away from the benefit of
society at large and instead towards religious observance.
An objection may be
raised here which points to the charitable work done by religious
institutions; it might even be suggested that I may be so motivated
by my new-found faith that I would engage in a larger amount of
charitable work through my religious ties. Historically, however,
churches have proven the least efficient means for delivering
charity1.
They are inefficient both in the percentage of what is taken-in that
comes-out as true charity, and in the scope or reach of that
charitable output. While it is true that there may be many very
effective faith-based charitable organizations, none of those
objectively recognized as efficient is a church in and of itself. Furthermore, religious institutions tend strongly to filter their
charitable works to exclude as recipients those whom they see as
unlikely to accept their teachings. Nearly all connect proselytizing
with charity, which is thinly disguised and re-branded as mission
work.
Churches
painstakingly count all of this in the ledger under “charity”
both as a claim to moral high ground (a retort offered in the face of
even the most casual challenge) and for tax purposes. If true
charity is indeed a “good” moral imperative, it is plain to see
that a large share of the “charity” arrogated by religious
institutions is perched on the thinnest moral ice.
It is obvious that
any redirection of charitable efforts on my part away from modes that
are blind to ancillary attributes of recipients and towards those
that restrict or attach conditions to the recipients (other than
unmitigated need) is an immoral one, clearly going beyond the sense
that it adds elements of pure self-interest to the decision process.
This latter of course gets folded in if the charitable work I am
performing is not done in an effort to elevate the human condition in
general but is instead done to elevate my own condition (either in
this world or in a promised hereafter).
If people perform
charitable work as part of their church’s activities we may still
inquire regarding their underlying motivation. If that motivation is
driven by the purely self-interested desire to please a deity or to
ensure a place in a desirable hereafter, then we must judge the
motive to be amoral as it takes no heed of concerns that are not
self-directed, and this diminishes the overall good in what may in
other ways be morally positive acts. If the charitable acts
themselves direct resources away from what the wider society has
identified as the most-needy or most-deserving recipients and towards
a more select group, then to the extent that they do so the acts
themselves are to be judged as immoral.
As was stated at the
beginning of this section, if I change my belief system to conform to
the questioner’s desires, I would at best be doing so for reasons
that are divorced from any semblance of true morality and that would
have implications which are upon reflection seen to be immoral.
I have noticed that
those who ask this question of others absolutely never ask it
of themselves, so I would like to briefly explore this
important possibility, followed later by a third form, in Part II.
1“Research
Report: How Secular Humanists (and Everyone Else) Subsidize Religion
in the United States”
[http://www.secularhumanism.org/index.php?section=fi&page=cragun_32_4]
