SI
SI
discoversearch

We've detected that you're using an ad content blocking browser plug-in or feature. Ads provide a critical source of revenue to the continued operation of Silicon Investor.  We ask that you disable ad blocking while on Silicon Investor in the best interests of our community.  If you are not using an ad blocker but are still receiving this message, make sure your browser's tracking protection is set to the 'standard' level.
Politics : Sharks in the Septic Tank -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?


To: epicure who wrote (32616)10/14/2001 2:49:44 AM
From: Greg or e  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 82486
 
Can Michael Martin Be a Moral Realist?: Sic et Non PT1
by
Paul Copan



"Can Michael Martin Be A Moral Realist?: Sic et Non," Philosophia Christi, Series 2, 1/2 (1999): 45-72. Posted by permission of Philosophia Christi.

In a cartoon-strip of Calvin and Hobbes, the mischievous imp Calvin is listening to the tune, "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town":

He sees you when you’re sleeping.

He knows when you’re awake.

He knows if you’ve been bad or good;

So be good, for goodness’ sake!

Reflecting deeply on this theme of Santa, Calvin reports his musings to Hobbes, his striped sidekick and co-conspirator. "This Santa Claus stuff bothers me . . . especially the judge and jury bit," Calvin mutters. He wonders why Santa carries such moral authority: "Who appointed Santa? How do we know he’s impartial? What criteria does he use for determining bad or good? And what about extenuating circumstances? Kids should have the benefit of legal counsel, don’t you think?"

In the spirit of this particular brand of "Calvinism," the atheist philosopher Michael Martin is also bothered—by this "God stuff." In his essay "Atheism, Christian Theism, and Rape," he finds the theistic belief that God is the locus of objective moral values problematic. Who appointed God? How do we know he’s impartial? What criteria does he use for determining good or bad?

At the outset of his essay, he states that the theistic claim that "atheists can provide no objective reason for not raping people" is "startling." He argues against the Mackian thesis that atheistic morality is necessarily subjective. Furthermore, he maintains that the commonly-held theistic position on morality (rooting objective morality in God’s character rather than his commands) still does not escape the Euthyphro dilemma. Moreover, the Bible itself is "insensitive and chauvinistic" in its treatment of rape victims.

Sed contra, I shall respond that Martin’s argument is flawed both philosophically and biblically. Regarding the philosophical shortcomings, (a) Martin offers no substantive ontological foundation for an objective morality within an atheistic framework (which would account for human dignity, human rights, moral obligations, and moral responsibility), and he confuses the order of knowing with the order of being. Thus I shall argue that Martin can be a moral realist epistemologically but not ontologically. Furthermore, (b) Martin fails to realize (i) that God’s essentially perfect nature is not subject to the accusation of arbitrariness sometimes justly leveled against divine commands (ii) that, if true, his challenge leaves his own naturalistic moral realism in the same state of arbitrariness. Finally, (c) his argument is flawed biblically in its handling of Deuteronomy 22:23-9 and other biblical passages pertaining to rape. So I shall, in each section, present a particular aspect of Martin’s position and then respond to it.

I. "Is Atheistic Morality Necessarily Subjective?" A Question of Epistemology vs. Ontology



Martin points to two Oxonians, Richard Swinburne and J. L. Mackie, to reinforce his emphasis that an atheistic ethic need not be subjective. Martin claims that a case can be made for an objective morality that is independent of what particular human beings happen to believe or practice with regard to morals. Positively, Martin approvingly cites Swinburne’s argument: "Genocide and torturing children are wrong and would remain so whatever commands any person issued." Martin adds: "[Swinburne] assumes that it is possible to objectively settle moral disputes concerning this topic if God did not exist." General moral principles are necessarily true given their allegedly analytic nature, he argues. Thus there is no possible world in which such moral truths cannot be coherently conceived.

Martin rightly notes that not all theists share Swinburne’s perspective. These theists, Martin adds, "maintain that atheistic morality must be subjective," and they usually assert this "without argument."

What is the position of these theists? In Atheism: A Philosophical Justification, Martin lays out their premises, which we’ll call Theistic Argument A (TA-A):

If morality is objective and absolute, then God exists.
Morality is objective and absolute.
Therefore, God exists.
To make their case, Martin argues, theists must refute the following argument (Atheistic Argument A, or AA-A) before their views on theistic morality can be taken seriously:

(1) In order to show that atheistic morality necessarily is subjective, theists must show that all attempts to ground objective morality on a nontheistic basis fail.

(2) But theists have not shown that all attempts to ground objective morality on a nontheistic basis fail.

(3) Hence, theists have not shown that atheistic morality is necessarily subjective.



One is led to believe that Martin will provide just such a basis, but, as we shall see below, his attempts to "ground objective morality on a nontheistic basis" do indeed fail. In addition, the challenge Martin offers can be taken up by theists, who can show that atheism lacks a sufficient basis for objective morality and, going further, show how theism furnishes precisely the necessary moral context. We shall proceed to take up this two-fold challenge.

To cite J. L. Mackie as the atheistic perspective on ethics, Martin claims, is unfair, as his is not the only one to consider. Mackie’s views "certainly do not represent the views of all atheists." Nor do Mackie’s arguments for a subjectivist ethic work, Martin holds. For instance, Mackie argues from disagreement (disagreement in ethical opinions supports ethical subjectivism) and from strangeness (moral properties are so strange that they would not fit into a naturalistic worldview). Martin disagrees with both of these arguments.

In response, Martin directly addresses the matter of disagreement, but his response to the strangeness argument is that, contra Mackie’s internalist account, "moral realism is compatible with externalism." Martin does not give much of an argument for the latter except for a passing footnote.

However, in the next section of his essay ("Is Theistic Morality Necessarily Objectivist?"), Martin offers a more substantive argument for his position. I quote him at length:

Let us assume for the moment that the Biblical position on rape is clear: God condemns rape. But why? One possibility is that He condemns rape because it is wrong. Why is it wrong? It might be supposed that God has various reasons for thinking rape is wrong: it violates the victim’s rights, it traumatizes the victim, it undermines the fabric of society, and so on. All of these are bad making properties. However, if these reasons provide objective grounds for God thinking that rape is wrong, then they provide objective grounds for others as well. Moreover, these reasons would hold even if God did not exist. For example, rape would still traumatize the victim and rape would still undermine the fabric of society [even if God did not exist].

Thus on this assumption, Martin claims, in this case, atheists could provide objective grounds for condemning rape—the same grounds used by God. Elsewhere Martin makes a similar statement about cruelty: "If I criticize Jones for being cruel, the criticism might well be correct even if God does not exist."

Here a major deficiency emerges in the objectivist ethic of the atheist. Martin completely ignores the ontological level of the discussion. He merely addresses the epistemological level and appears content with stopping there. That is, what counts as being good is one thing, but how we know the good is another. Atheists may be aware of the content of morality, but this does not furnish them with the basis for explaining how it is that there are moral truths and that we are able to know them.

Let me reiterate. Martin’s working assumption seems to be this: If a nontheist can simply recognize or know that objective moral values—and thus universal moral obligations—exist, the job of justification is complete. We can be good without God! But this does not go far enough. The theist does not dispute that nontheists can know moral truths or principles. Whether atheists, Confucians, or Theravada Buddhists, nontheists can properly affirm that the Holocaust or Stalin’s purges were immoral.

However, Martin does not tell us why such moral knowledge is possible. At the epistemological level, Martin and Swinburne are correct: One need not appeal to God to know whether or not cruelty, rape, genocide, or torturing children is wrong.

But if Martin thinks his task is completed, this is where he makes his major mistake. He gives no ontological foundation at all for his reasons to oppose child molestation, torture, or rape. It is unquestionable that rape is wrong because it violates the victim’s rights and traumatizes the victim. But to affirm this is still not to offer the ontological basis for such affirmations. In his popular-level book The Big Domino in the Sky, Martin makes the same sorts of pronouncements, but again without ontological justification. For instance, he rightly declares that there have been "atheists of high moral character." Thus there is no reason to think that atheists are less moral than believers. Of course, Martin concedes, the question is not one about the moral character of atheists, but "whether they can justify their actions."

So does Martin justify his vantage point? Hardly. The sort of "justification" Martin offers is to claim that "there have been many secular moralities." "There have been various attempts to construct a naturalistic foundation of ethics that is both objective and absolute." Certain ethical philosophers "have given objective accounts of morality that are compatible with atheism."

Notice that Martin’s position simply presupposes the dignity of human beings, universal human rights, some objective purpose (e.g., that life has meaning if lived in a particular way), moral accountability, and the like. When Martin speaks of "bad making properties," he simply assumes that human beings possess an intrinsic worth which snails and sea urchins do not. But on what naturalistic or materialistic basis can human dignity or human rights be affirmed? What is it within Martin’s worldview that furnishes us with such an ontology or metaphysic of personhood as being of intrinsic value or worth? Nothing, so far as I can see. Moreover, Martin makes no effort. He merely claims that "ethical absolutism is compatible with atheism." Martin suggests, following Roderick Firth, an ideal observer view of ethics (in which a "good" is what "an ideal observer would approve under ideal condition") is an atheistic alternative. Another suggestion Martin makes is William Frankena’s "sophisticated version of non-cognitivism." Even if such views could carry the day for the atheistic moral realist, the problem still remains—namely, accounting for the metaphysical or ontological status of personhood and its attendant intrinsic goodness still remains. While moral truths can be known and moral judgments made in both systems, these systems still presume upon—without justification—the foundation human dignity, human rights, and obligations. But why suppose that human persons have moral worth?

Throughout his writings, Martin offers no reasons. He simply states that it is so:

I see no reason to suppose that if the cultural and intellectual accomplishments of X are worthless, then X’s life is worthless. A mother who has raised intelligent, healthy, morally upright children, a doctor whose life has been devoted to caring for the indigent, a teacher who has spent a lifetime teaching pupils to be just and compassionate—each may have accomplished little from a cultural or intellectual point of view, but each has led a worthwhile life nevertheless.

But if Martin is going to insist that "it has not been shown that all attempts to ground objective morality on a nontheistic basis fail," he must do more than repeat the mantra: "But human beings do have dignity."

Here the theist offers just such a foundation: Human beings possess intrinsic or inherent worth because they are made in the image of God. They share the moral likeness of a personal God in their very nature or being, and, by virtue of their personhood, they are moral agents. As Keith Yandell puts it: "nothing which is not a person is a moral agent. Morality concerns only persons." Their personhood derives from the personhood of God. Their having basic moral intuitions about justice, goodness, and kindness reflect this moral connection. Thus we ought to be moral because we have been made as moral beings in the likeness of a good God. We have been made to know God personally, and when we are in right relationship with God, all other goods find their proper place; that is, we function the way we were designed to function. Thus, when human beings experience guilt (for murder, adultery, theft), it is not because they have simply violated societal laws, a social contract, or some set of Neoplatonic laws that are somehow part of the furniture of the universe. They have violated the character of the ultimate personal Being. Mackie’s problem about the queerness of morality in a non-theistic universe persists; objective morality is just as strange as mental properties: just as mental properties are distinct from physical ones, so goodness belongs to persons rather than impersonal objects.

Martin, who frequently cites David Brink as offering a model of moral realism without appealing to God, may likely argue: "But why can’t moral properties be viewed as comparable to supervening mental properties? After all, many nontheistic contemporary philosophers of mind hold this view." Brink himself reasons: "Assuming materialism is true, mental states supervene on physical states, yet few think that mental states are metaphysically queer." However, such optimism is misguided, as it assumes a smooth transition from the nonmental to the mental (and the nonmoral to the moral). But to use mental supervenience as a plausible analogy for moral supervenience is astonishingly bold and, so far as contemporary philosophy of mind goes, unwarranted. Take the mental property of consciousness. Ned Block forcefully asserts:

We have no conception of our physical or functional nature that allows us to understand how it could explain our subjective experience . . . [I]n the case of consciousness we have nothing—zilch—worthy of being called a research programme, nor are there any substantive proposals about how to go about starting one. . . . Researchers are stumped."

The same could be said for moral properties. Just as consciousness is easily accommodated within a theistic framework (in which a maximally-aware Creator creates conscious beings), so moral properties fit into a theistic scenario (in which a supremely-good/moral personal Being creates morally-constituted persons). Therefore affirming human dignity and universal human rights is not simply a brute fact. A theistic universe helps make far better sense of human dignity or human rights than a non-theistic, naturalistic universe. The Christian offers a superior contextual framework—a "richer metaphysical account as to why the cosmos is such that there are objective values."

Martin might reply: "You theists might claim that God is the sufficient reason for the existence of morality, but you are still just positing God in terms of a brute fact, some ultimate stopping point. So what prevents the atheist from claiming that objective morality and intrinsic human dignity simply exist as brute facts?" Up to a point, the atheist is correct: justification must end somewhere. But this does not mean that the theist and atheist are at an impasse.

Again, context is important. For instance, a hundred dollar bill has a greater value than a single dollar bill—even though they are the same size and contain (roughly) the same amounts of ink. It is the context (in this case, a conventional one) which enables us to ascribe varying values to these pieces of paper. What then is Martin’s context for making sense of human worth? From his atheistic viewpoint, "There is no cosmic purpose if there is no God." We have before us the two relevant alternatives: (a) There is no cosmic purpose if there is no God and (b) There is a cosmic purpose if there is a God. At least prima facie, the existence of an objective human purpose is more obvious if God exists than if he does not.

Now Martin takes position that moral properties do exist independently of human beings:

Atheists not only can but have rejected this view [that human beings create values and do not discover them]. There is no reason why atheists cannot argue that values are discovered. For example, atheists such as Bertrand Russell in his early ethical writings argued that ‘good and bad are qualities which belong to objects independent of our opinions just as much as round and square do.’ Such qualities were discovered not created.

Now correlated to this affirmation is that somehow, intrinsic worth and a moral constitution supervene upon human beings through their having achieved a certain level of organismic complexity. According to David Brink, to whom Martin approvingly refers, this position is the most plausible position to take: "it is best for the [nontheistic] moral realist to claim that moral properties supervene upon physical properties."

So with this moral constitution, human beings have some inherent purpose, and therefore one ought to live one’s life in a certain way (Says Martin: "Like Kant, I believe that one has a duty to fulfill one’s talents.")

But if Martin’s claim that there is "no cosmic purpose" is true, the relevant context for affirming a limited purpose is far from obvious. Martin moves from purposeless, impersonal, amoral, materialistic or naturalistic processes to—violà!—the emergence of intrinsically-valuable, personal, moral beings. Again, I simply do not see that his worldview has the ontological resources to bring about this remarkable transformation. Within theism, on the other hand, there exists a continuity, a smooth transition of intrinsic dignity—from a maximally-great personal Being to valuable created persons—as opposed to the naturalistic shift from the nonmoral to the moral. This moral continuity—the transference of moral properties from one moral Being to beings made in his image—has greater explanatory power than the disjunction between them on the naturalistic view. In the theistic view, moral properties have an ontological simplicity—as opposed to the naturalistic construal, in which moral properties are not ontologically simple.

Thus theists can take up Martin’s challenge and offer a far more plausible basis for objective morality than the atheist can. We noted earlier Martin’s argument (AA-A) against the theist who claims to have an objectivist ethic that the atheist does not have:

(1) In order to show that atheistic morality necessarily is subjective, theists must show that all attempts to ground objective morality on a nontheistic basis fail.

(2) But theists have not shown that all attempts to ground objective morality on a nontheistic basis fail.

(3) Hence, theists have not shown that atheistic morality is necessarily subjective.

On the epistemological level, Martin is rightly shocked by "Christian apologists"—whoever they may be—who claim that "atheists can provide no objective reason for not raping people." Theists and atheists alike can affirm the same moral principles as objectively true. But at the ontological level, it is the theistic apologist who is rightly shocked at Martin’s claim. For Martin’s worldview offers no obvious resources to affirm the uniqueness and dignity of the human being, individual human rights, personal responsibility, moral obligation, and the moral value of a cohesive social fabric. Thus, we can reply to Martin with the following syllogism (Theistic Argument B, or TA-B):

To ground an objective moral order, the atheist must show how naturalism furnishes an ontological framework for the intrinsic dignity of human beings, universal human rights, and moral responsibility.
The atheist has shown no such ontological foundation (based on naturalism) to account for intrinsic human dignity, human rights, etc.
Therefore, the atheist’s attempt to ground an objective morality fails.
On the other hand, the theist (as we saw above) can make a plausible moral connection between God and human beings. It is this personal and moral connection which grounds the dignity/value, rights, purpose, and responsibility of human beings. It is only on this assumption—at the ontological level—of humans’ being intrinsically valuable that we can rise to the next level—the epistemological—to know that rape, for instance, "violates the victim’s rights . . . traumatizes the victim . . . undermines the fabric of society, and so on."

What we have before us is then is a matter of theism’s greater contextual probability. Furthermore, there are certain additional facts about the world which are much more probable or make much more sense if God exists than if he does not:

The fact of consciousness/subjectivity, intentionality, and various mental properties: Thomas Nagel writes, "Consciousness is what makes the mind-body problem really intractable." John Searle notes that "the leading problem in the biological sciences is the problem of explaining how neurobiological processes cause conscious experiences." Moving from purely naturalistic, unconscious processes to the existence of consciousness appears to require a much greater leap than consciousness’ deriving from an ultimate, conscious Being.
the existence of moral beings, which is better explained by a moral and personal Being than by their emerging through non-moral processes.
the existence of non-utilitarian beauty, which seems to be better explained by theism than by metaphysical naturalism. We could more easily expect "useless" beauty if God exists than if he does not.
the beginning of the physical space-time universe, prior to which there was nothing physical at all. Thus there was lacking (from the naturalist’s point of view) even the potentiality for anything to come into existence from nothing. The metaphysical principle "out of nothing nothing comes" still holds.
the delicately balanced cosmic constants in the world that make conditions "just right" for human existence ("the Goldilocks effect," astrophysicists have called it). Freeman Dyson notes: "As we look out into the Universe and identify the many accidents of physics and astronomy that have worked together for our benefit, it almost seems as if the Universe must in some sense have known that we were coming."
the existence of evil, which not only presupposes objective moral goodness but also entails design (i.e., evil is a departure from the way things ought to be).
As William Davis argues, the skeptic may be able to offer naturalistic explanations for these features of the universe (or he could insist that features like objective morality and beauty do not exist at all). "But the best the skeptic can hope for is to show that metaphysical naturalism explains as much of what needs explaining as the existence of God explains . . . . In no case is it plausible that metaphysical naturalism explains the data better."

Moreover, the theistic foundation for morality has the virtue of greater simplicity on its side in that it offers a plausible linking of two distinct entities that, in an atheistic world, must be joined in some ad hoc fashion. These two entities are objective moral values and human persons.

On the one hand, a metaphysical naturalist like Martin apparently presupposes that moral properties supervene on "correctly-related" or "complexly-conjoined" non-moral ones. Then somehow two apparently unconnected components within the universe—namely, (a) these emergent moral properties and (b) the moral principles of justice, mercy, and kindness, which are analytically-true brute givens whether or not any human beings exist—happen to be, by fantastic coincidence, intimately related. Now Martin holds that moral truths exist as part of the cosmic furniture, and he also maintains that humans (independent of these standards) evolved naturalistically to such a point at which they became moral beings.

But why think that these moral principles which exist even apply to us or morally obligate us? To say that moral values are "just there" seems insufficient. Isn't it an extraordinary coincidence that out of all possible creatures that have evolved, human beings should just happen to have obligations to these pre-existing, analytically-true objective moral values? It seems that the evolutionary process somehow anticipated the arrival of human beings on the scene. But a less ad hoc candidate is the theistic alternative. (And, we could add, even if moral properties did exist on a naturalistic scheme of things, why think that moral obligation exists—particularly when such a duty conflicts with my self-interest?)

Whereas these are two unconnected entities appear to pose a problem for the metaphysical naturalist, theism brings them together in a much more concise way: A personal God, who is the source of moral values, makes human persons in his image, and thus they share important moral and spiritual characteristics with God. Theism provides a match between our moral make-up and the structure of ultimate reality.



To: epicure who wrote (32616)10/14/2001 2:53:20 AM
From: Greg or e  Respond to of 82486
 
Pt 2

Thus objective moral values are quite at home in a theistic universe. Given God’s existence, moral realism is natural. But given an atheistic universe (despite Martin’s claims to the contrary), objective morality—along with its assumptions of human dignity, rights, and moral responsibility—is unnatural and surprising and "queer."

Furthermore, theism serves a very useful place in philosophy, as it suggests answers where there would likely be only conundrums or brute facts. As Alvin Plantinga maintains, theism "offers suggestions for answers to a wide range of otherwise intractable questions."

Earlier, we gave the (negative) syllogism as to why the atheist fails to account properly for objective morality (TA-B). Positively, however, we could put forth another theistic argument (Theistic Argument C, or TA-C):

To ground the existence of an objective moral order, which assumes human dignity, human rights, human responsibility, and so on, the theist must show how this is so.
A theistic universe (and not, we have seen, an atheistic one) furnishes the ontological resources to explain these data—namely, a good and personal God in whose image humans have been made.
Therefore, the theistic account of morality succeeds where the atheistic one fails.
So while the atheist, who has been made in God’s image, correctly believes (epistemologically) in moral realism, his own ontological foundation furnishes no basis for this belief.

II. The Euthyphro Dilemma . . . Again

We are familiar with the Euthyphro dilemma raised by Socrates: "Is what is holy holy because the gods approve it, or do they approve it because it is holy?" Socrates rightly rejected the former--an inferior view--but accepted the latter. Martin asks us to suppose that rape is wrong because God condemns it. This raises the arbitrariness horn of the Euthyphro dilemma. (The other one is the autonomy horn.) He rejects--correctly, in my view--a divine command theory, which (in its weaker version) views the sinful and the morally forbidden as coextensive. It appears to me that unless the commands are tethered to the goodness of God’s character, then these commands can appear arbitrary. But even contemporary divine command theorists like Philip Quinn and Robert M. Adams seem to go beyond divine commands to emphasize their grounding in God’s character, which is the proper move to make.

Simply defining moral obligation in terms of being simply "that which God commands" runs into the problem of tautology, in which "good" and "right" are redefined. "Goodness" comes to mean nothing more than "God commanded X." Obedience to divine commands would thus appear to be arbitrary. As Alasdair McIntyre once asked: "what other reason can there be for such obedience but the appeal to divine power and to the consequences of flouting it?"

Thus many theists have argued that appealing to God’s character as the source and standard of moral goodness helps us to avoid the horns of the dilemma. However, Michael Martin claims that theists who root objective morality in the character of God rather than the commands of God only postpone the problem since the dilemma can be formulated in terms of his character. I quote Martin at length:

Is God’s character the way it is because it is good or is God’s character good simply because it is God’s character? Is there an independent standard of good or does God’s character set the standard? If God’s character is the way it is because it is good, then there is an independent standard of goodness by which to evaluate God’s character. For example, suppose God condemns rape because of his just and merciful character. According to this independent standard of goodness, being merciful and just is precisely what a good character involves. In this case, even if God did not exist, one could say that a merciful and just character is good. Human beings could use this standard to evaluate peoples’ character and action based on this character. They could do this whether or not God exists.

Suppose God’s character is good simply because it is God’s character. Then if God’s character were cruel and unjust, these attributes would be good. In such a case God might well condone rape since this would be in keeping with His character. But could not one reply that God could not be cruel and unjust since by necessity God must be good? It is true that by necessity God must be good. But unless we have some independent standard of goodness then whatever attributes God has would by definition be good: God’s character would define what good is.

So Martin wonders why the non-existence of God would adversely affect the goodness of mercy, compassion, and justice.

In response to Martin’s revised Euthyphro dilemma, however, the theist can offer the following responses.

First, we noted earlier that the "reasons" Martin offers for why rape is wrong already assume the dignity of human beings, the existence of universal human rights, an objective purpose/end for human existence, moral obligation, and moral responsibility. Thus Martin needs to offer a more robust explanation for these assumptions, but we have seen that the atheistic worldview lacks such resources while the theistic perspective anticipates a moral universe.

Martin’s position on morality reminds me of what Bertrand Russell said in his BBC debate with F. C. Copleston. After being asked how the universe came into being, Bertrand Russell asserted, "I should say that the universe is just there, and that's all." Similarly, Martin appears to be saying, "The objective moral principles are there, and that’s all." But is that really all? To paraphrase Father Copleston’s response, "Why objective morality rather than none at all? That is the question."

To present a defeater against theism’s claim to ontologically ground morality, Martin must do more than simply say that moral properties exist or that we can have moral knowledge or that moral properties supervene on physical entities. Nor will it do to say, "I offer the same reasons the theist does against rape." For the theist already presupposes—and has a foundation for presupposing—human rights, human dignity, and the like. We’ve already noted even if the theist and atheist end up pitting "brute facts" against each other, the "brute fact" of a personal, good God who has made human beings in his image offers a more natural context for affirming human dignity than does an impersonal, unguided process.

Second, by presenting the revised version of the Euthyphro argument, Martin simply postpones the inevitable—that is, applying a similar dilemma to his own atheistic version of moral realism. If Martin thinks that he is forcing the impalement of the theist on one of the horns of the dilemma, how does Martin think that he can escape a similar dilemma, mutatis mutandis?

Now obviously, the atheist’s moral position does not deal with the matter of commands issued by a personal being; so the Euthyphro argument is inapplicable in this regard. But, in principle, the atheist who raises the horns of this argument against the theist (whether pertaining to divine commands or divine character) must himself deal with the horns of autonomy or arbitrariness. So we can ask Martin, "Are the supervening moral properties—or even moral principles like justice—good simply because they are good, or is there some independent standard of good to which they conform?" Thus the alleged dilemma Martin claims the theist faces is the very same one the atheist does. So there is no actual advantage for the atheist in presenting this challenge. The same potential charges of arbitrariness or the existence of some autonomous moral standard (such as platonic Forms) still apply. If the atheist claims that he is not being arbitrary, then why should the theist’s viewpoint be considered any less arbitrary? The sword cuts both ways.

We could carry the argument further by comparing Martin’s view of supervenience with the common view that morality is the result of social as well as biological forces at work within human evolution. Bertrand Russell noted that

ethics arises from the pressures of the community on the individual. Man . . . does not always instinctively feel the desires which are useful to his herd. The herd, being anxious that the individual should act in its interests, has invented various devices for causing the individual’s interest to be in harmony with that of the herd. One of these . . . is morality.

In such a scenario, it seems plausible to argue that rape—because of its enhancement of human survival and reproduction—could easily have developed into a good activity rather than a reprehensible one. (Male mallards, for instance, commit acts that look much like rape.) And ethnic or social-class cleansing, in which apparent "parasitic" or "unwanted" elements of human society could be eliminated, might also enable the human race to become hardier and thus better survive. But this obviously would render morality subjective and arbitrary. Similarly, I do not see how Martin’s belief in intrinsic human dignity via supervenience is any more objective than a herd morality that develops due to socio-biological forces. It seems that both scenarios are on par. Martin’s own version of atheistic moral realism does not evade the charge of arbitrariness based on the mindless, impersonal emergence of morality.

Third, in one sense, Martin’s query is pointless. After all, we must eventually arrive at some self-sufficient and self-explanatory stopping point beyond which the discussion can go no further. Assume for a moment that God does not exist and that we have, instead, a Platonic form of the Good from which all values derive. At this point, it would appear silly to ask, "Why is the Good good?" It seems evident that Martin’s argument is wrongly conceived. Rather, we have a metaphysical ultimate, and everything is good in approximation to this. This leads us to ask the question once more: Why is atheism’s basis for morality any less arbitrary a stopping-point than God’s character? Using Martin’s own argument, can’t we always push the atheistic moral realist back further, questioning even the sufficient stopping point for his morality? What makes the objective moral values that human beings have come to affirm right? To rephrase what I pointed out above: if these moral values exist (a) externally and independently of any human beings at all or (b) only in conjunction with the formation of human beings, then we can ask, "What makes them good?" Some stopping point will be necessary for both the theist and the atheist. So if the atheist charges the theist with circularity, the theist can turn the tables on the atheist. Since the atheist is not off the Euthyphronic hook (or horn!), the next step would be to examine moral justification in terms of which worldview provides a more fitting context for affirming the intrinsic dignity of human beings.

Fourth, Martin presupposes that even if God did not exist, he could still imagine a moral universe in which moral obligation, human dignity, and human rights and responsibility would still exist. But this is precisely the point of contention. In the first place, the question, Why is there something (including human beings) rather than nothing at all?, is the more fundamental one. Second, if this fundamental problem could be overcome, the atheist must be questioned on his assumption that human beings would be essentially the same if God did not exist. But the theist maintains that human beings would be radically different (if they were to exist at all)—more like brutes—and certainly without a moral constitution. The problem is still unresolved of how human beings became endowed with intrinsic value and rights and in the first place.

The theist has a plausible basis for this: human beings have value by virtue of their personhood, which is derived from the personhood of God—the ultimately valuable Being. Having been created in the image of God gives human beings their value. Their nature—with its moral, rational, and spiritual capacities—resemble God’s. So to assume morality without God seems to miss the ontological implications of the question. That is, if there is no personal God to bestow personhood—and its attendant intrinsic dignity and moral responsibility, then we can’t rightly say, "I can be a person with intrinsic dignity and moral responsibility even if God doesn’t exist."

So for Martin to ask, "Why should I think God is good instead of an evil creator?", is a wrong-headed attempt to drive a wedge between God and his image-bearers. This is something Martin persists in doing, but to question the character of God is to question the moral capacities of human beings. Martin simply assumes that his moral faculties are intact and that he can make sound moral judgments. Yet this very capacity is a reflection of the imago Dei, which offers prima facie reasonable assurance that God’s character is non-arbitrary. If Martin has a correct grasp of what is good, then this reflects that his moral faculties are functioning properly—as God intended. If he then proceeds to ask about God’s capacity to be evil, then Martin would then have to be a skeptical about the proper functioning of his own moral faculties. Thus his objection becomes a moot one.

Fifth, Martin also presupposes that in order to avoid the arbitrariness horn of the revised Euthyphro dilemma, the theist must opt for some moral standard independent of God. Thus to do what is good, God would have to conform to that standard. In other words, God is obligated to "obey" or conform to that standard.

However, the appropriate response to this kind of claim is that God does not, say, keep promises because he ought to (which would imply some external moral standard). Rather, the theist claims that God will keep promises. It is impossible that he not act morally. What we have here is the Anselmian notion of God’s "essential perfection." God is a sui generis being, whose will operates according to God’s very nature.

This view, I believe, brings together the two horns of the Euthyphro dilemma. It states that, on the one hand, goodness is not independent of God but rather is part of God’s nature and depends upon him for its existence. On the other hand, God’s will operates according to a moral standard. That standard is God’s very nature. The essential perfection view maintains that God is necessarily good; he could never will evil, as this is a logical impossibility. This view avoids the arbitrariness charge, and it avoids the autonomy charge in that God does not consult a certain moral standard external to himself before acting. Moral justification ends with God, the absolute starting point for morality. So God’s goodness does not derive from his adhering to a certain moral standard.

Because God is necessarily good and thus acts in conformity to his nature, the standards by which he acts are descriptive of his own nature rather than somehow prescribed to him. As philosophers have done, we can draw a distinction between following a rule and merely acting in accordance with a rule. Although empirically indistinguishable, they are logically distinct. It seems that if we speak in terms of "God ought to do X," then it appears that there is at least a metaphysical possibility that he not do X. But if God is essentially good, then no such moral obligations attach to God as they do to human beings. After all, it appears that when moral laws are in force (i.e., "one ought to do X"), there is the possibility that they will be disobeyed.

So God’s goodness should not be viewed as his fulfilling moral obligations but as expressing the way he is. God does not "consult" ontologically independent moral principles before acting. No, he simply acts as he is inclined to--which is in accordance with his good character, and this will necessarily be the best. "No preliminary stage of checking the relevant principles is required." In this sense, God’s goodness should be thought of along axiological rather strictly moral lines.

Part of God’s goodness does consist in his acting in perfect accord with those principles which would provide duties for a lesser being. This use of the model would be an explication not of God’s moral goodness, but of his axiological goodness. When religious people claim that God is morally good, meaning that he acts in accord with moral principles, they are merely using that axiological conception with which they are most familiar, moral goodness, to describe or model an aspect of divinity functionally isomorphic with, though ontologically different from, human goodness.

In other words, although, morally speaking, God acts in the same manner that humans ought to act (or as the ideal moral agent would act), his goodness is not a matter of fulfilling moral duties as it is for us. For instance, we speak of God’s making a promise to Abraham to make his descendants as plentiful as the sands on the shore. Given this understanding of God’s not being morally obligated to act--in this case, to keep a promise, we should more accurately describe God as expressing his intention, which is tantamount to a promise from our vantage point. William Alston writes,

Just as we can express intentions without obligating ourselves (provided we don’t promise) so it is with God. The difference, of course, is that we can count on an expression of intention from God as we can on the promise from a human being, indeed can count on it much more, because of the utter stability and dependability of God’s character and purposes.

Mark Linville states that "this is not merely an ad hoc construal of God’s relation to moral duties as a result of trying to solve the problem of essential perfection and divine freedom. Rather, it follows naturally from the concept of an essentially perfect being." So contrary to Martin’s claim, God is not obligated to some standard of goodness external to himself and thus does not consult it before acting; rather, he simply does what is in accordance with his nature.

Now Martin might, for the sake of argument, grant that God’s nature is necessarily good. But this would not entail that God’s character is the standard for human beings or that he is the source of objective morality. However, in light of the connection between human beings and God via the imago Dei, then we have good reason to suppose that there is indeed a necessary link between God’s character and our moral constitution. Thus God would serve as both the standard and source of objective morality.

Sixth, another Anselmian point that follows from the preceding one is this: God by definition is a being worthy of worship. It is a necessary truth that he is the standard of goodness. If God were not absolutely good, then he would not be worthy of worship. The meaningful question to ask, then, is: Why should we regard God as the standard of goodness? Anselm’s perfect-being theology maintains that God must be absolute goodness itself, the very embodiment of goodness. Thus he is worthy of worship. But if a being is not absolute goodness itself, then it would not be worthy of worship.

Getting back to Michael Martin, we had mentioned earlier Martin’s tacit approval of the notion that certain moral truths are analytically true. However, it appears that some naturalists—relativists and nihilists, for instance—can easily imagine a world in which objective moral standards do not exist. Bertrand Russell was one such atheist who seemed to be quite consistent in this regard.

In sum, Martin’s revised Euthyphro dilemma does not raise inescapable problems for the theist. This brings us to the matter of rape in the Bible.



To: epicure who wrote (32616)10/14/2001 2:54:17 AM
From: Greg or e  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 82486
 
Pt3
"III. The Bible and Rape

We come to the section, in which it becomes quite evident that Martin is not interested in doing serious study of the biblical text and its context. Although I could say much more, I’ll let the arguments below speak for themselves.

Martin claims that in the Bible, "God seems to be tacitly approving of rape" in some places while in others "rape is condemned but without regard for the victim’s welfare." The main example Martin gives is Deuteronomy 22:23-29. The text reads:

23If there is a girl who is a virgin engaged to a man, and another man finds her in the city and lies with her, 24then you shall bring them both out to the gate, and you shall stone them to death; the girl, because she did not cry out in the city, and the man, because he has violated his neighbor’s wife. Thus you shall purge the evil from among you. 25But if in the field the man finds the girl who is engaged, and the man forces her and lies with her, then only the man who lies with her shall die. 26But you shall do nothing to the girl; there is no sin in the girl worthy of death, for just as a man rises against his neighbor and murders him, so is this case. 27When he found her in the field, the engaged girl cried out, but there was no one to save her.

28If a man finds a girl who is a virgin, who is not engaged, and seizes her and lies with her and they are discovered, 29then the man who lay with her shall give to the girl’s father fifty shekels of silver, and she shall become his wife because he has violated her; he cannot divorce her all his days (NASB).

Martin makes the following criticism concerning this passage:

Here [in vv. 28-29] the victim of rape is the property of the father. Since the rapist has despoiled the father’s property he must pay a bridal fee. The [girl] apparently has no say in the matter and is forced to marry the person who raped her. Notice also if they are not discovered, no negative judgment is forthcoming. The implicit message seems to be that if you rape an unbetrothed virgin, be sure not to get caught.

Before getting further into the discussion, we note that Martin displays a lack of exposure to the historical and social context in which the Bible was written. With regard to the Deuteronomy 22 passage, we should note three distinct scenarios:

#1: Consensual sex/adultery between a man and a betrothed girl: v. 23: "He lies with her"; this need not imply force or violence. This act is tantamount to adultery as engagement is tantamount to marriage (‘he has violated his neighbor’s wife’).

#2: Rape of an engaged girl: v. 25: "[he] forces her [an engaged girl] and lies with her, then only the man who lies with her shall die."

#3: Rape of an unengaged/single girl: v. 28: "[he] seizes her [a girl who is single and not engaged] and lies with her and they are discovered": the word seize literally means "handle/take hold of." Although rape (as in the NIV) may be too strong a translation, according to Christopher Wright, this act does appears to be that of rape.

In response, then, to Martin’s criticism, one must point out that only in a legal sense were children considered "property" of the father in Old Testament Israel. So, to violate a girl—even with her consent—would be an offense against her father/parents as well. This is not so foreign as Martin would make it appear. In the United States, it is not uncommon to hear of attempts at legislation which a parent should be notified before a young teenage girl can have an abortion. This is a reasonable demand—even though this teenager is not the property of her parents.

With regard to the claim that the girl has no say in the matter and must marry the man, Martin overlooks the cultural background to such a command. In the latter case (v. 28), the sexual encounter appears to be that of a man taking advantage of a "minor." Christopher Wright argues:

the girl would no longer attract a potential bridegroom and the exchange of gifts and dowry that went along with the marriage. It is for this loss that the man must compensate the father (29a). . . . [This law] gives the offender no option but to marry the girl (and the father no right to refuse), with no easy way out through a quick subsequent divorce. The girl is thus assured of security and provision, in place of virtual widowhood if she had been abandoned after the loss of her virginity.



In addition, the law offers a further protection to both the girl and the (possible) child born from this union.

Martin misses the point and engages in an argument from silence when he says, "Notice also if they are not discovered, no negative judgment is forthcoming. The implicit message seems to be that if you rape an unbetrothed virgin, be sure not to get caught." First of all, in the case of casuistic law in the Pentateuch, not all contingencies are accounted for. Thus it is commonly understood among Old Testament scholars that the Israelite laws are exemplary rather than exhaustive. So there is no reason to think that all conditions should be spelled out. Furthermore, common sense tells us that not much can be done if there is no evidence to act on! We could rephrase what Martin says and apply it to the crime of a well-planned murder: "Notice also if a murder is not discovered, no negative judgment is forthcoming. The implicit message seems to be that if you murder someone, be sure not to get caught." But this is so obvious that Martin’s point seems silly. Thirdly, the mention of the word discovered in the biblical text (v. 28) is significant. It implies that if a man’s taking sexual advantage of an unengaged single girl becomes public knowledge, then the girl would certainly not be viewed as a prospective candidate for marriage within her society.

Let us continue with Martin’s argument:

In the case of the rape of a betrothed virgin in a city, the Bible says that both the rapist and the victim should be stoned to death: the rapist because he violated his neighbor’s wife and the victim because she did not cry for help [vv. 25-27]. Again, the assumption is that the rapist despoiled the property of another man and so must pay with his life. Concern for the welfare of the victim does not seem to matter. Moreover, it is assumed that in all cases that a rape victim could cry for help and if she did, she would be heard and rescued. Both of these assumptions are very dubious. . . .

On the other hand, according to the Bible, the situation is completely different if the rape occurs in "open country." Here the rapist should be killed, not the victim. The reason given is that if a woman cried for help in open country, she would not be heard. Consequently, she could not be blamed for allowing the rape to occur. No mention is made about the psychological harm to [the victim]. No condemnation is made of a rapist in open country, let alone in a city, who does not get caught.



We must clarify this notion of property in the first of the two paragraphs just cited. In verse 22, the penalty for adultery (to which a betrothed could be subject) is death (Dt. 22:22; Lev. 20:10). This fact argues against the assumption that women were nothing more than the property of their husbands in Old Testament Israel. After all, why destroy the "property" as well as punish the guilty man? Moreover, there is no other property offense in Old Testament law that is punishable by death. Thus Martin is simply wrong when he says "the [dubious] assumption is that the rapist despoiled the property of another man." Again, contrary to Martin’s claim that concern "for the welfare of the victim does not seem to matter," we have seen how the law provided security and material provision for young women who were sexually violated.

The other "dubious" assumption Martin mentions is similarly flawed: "it is assumed that in all cases that a rape victim could cry for help and if she did, she would be heard and rescued." Again, Wright addresses this issue, urging us to consider both intention, circumstances and action:

. . . the circumstances in which [sexual intercourse] occurs affect the assumptions the court might make regarding intention and thus also affect its allocation of guilt and punishment. The contrast between a busy town and a deserted countryside makes an obvious difference to what could be assumed regarding the woman’s consent. The difference is also expressed in the vocabulary [i.e., consent in v. 23 vs. rape in v. 25] . . . . In the latter case, the court should accept what could only be the woman’s own testimony in the matter and assume her innocence.

Regarding the first instance mentioned in our Deuteronomy 22 passage (i.e., adultery between an engaged girl and another man), there is a certain legitimate assumption: Although rape could take place in the city, this particular case is not one of rape because if the woman had cried for help, then help most certainly would have come. But because she did not call for help, it can be assumed that she consented to the man’s advances. But pace Martin, this Deuteronomy 22 passage is not assuming that in all cases the rape victim would be heard if she cried out, as Wright states. Thus given a few important facts about the biblical text and the cultural context, Martin’s arguments lose their force.

There is another passage Martin mentions, to which we now turn—Numbers 31:18, where, Martin alleges, "Moses encourages his men to use captured virgins for their own sexual pleasure, i.e., to rape them" (5). At first sight, the passage does seem quite harsh: "Now kill all the boys. And kill every woman who has slept with a man, but save for yourselves every girl who has never slept with a man" (NIV). However, the context for this command—as in various other OT commands of this nature—should not be overlooked. In light of the rampant adultery at Baal Peor and its potentially corrupting influence, this command is put in perspective. It is these young girls who have not debased themselves in the orgiastic worship of Baal (Num. 25).

Furthermore, Martin’s assumption that rape is presupposed here is mistaken. A similar passage in Deuteronomy 20:13-14 is worth noting:

When the Lord your God gives it [i.e., the city which has rejected Israel’s terms of peace] into your hand, you shall strike all the men in it with the edge of the sword. Only the women and the children and the animals and all that is in the city all its spoil, you shall take as booty for yourself.

John Sailhamer comments: "The present law ensures the well-being of those captured women [and children] by giving them protection against being sold into slavery. It also provides for the assimilation of the captive women into Israelite society by allowing marriage to them." Thus it was permissible in such instances to, not rape, but take a wife, who would be incorporated into the people of Israel through marriage. It seems far less likely that men could be as readily integrated into early Israel.

Martin again fails to make his case regarding the biblical perspective on rape. In a number of ways, then, the psychological well-being of the raped girl is taken into account: (a) she is provided for rather than abandoned to virtual widowhood because she has been sexually violated; (b) easy divorce by the man is not possible; (c) a potential child from this union has the security of a two-parent family. Also, by failing to account for many of the cultural dimensions of Old Testament Israelite culture, the force of Martin’s point is vitiated.

Conclusion

Michael Martin’s use of philosophical argument and the biblical text is insufficient to make his case. First, he has not established—from an ontological point of view—the objectivity of naturalistic morality; he has only dealt with the epistemological dimension. We also saw that theism rather than atheism furnishes a more fitting context for moral values, which themselves presuppose human dignity, purpose, rights, and the like. Second, Martin’s raising the Euthyphro dilemma seems purposeless since his atheistic position is vulnerable to just such a dilemma. Furthermore, Anselm’s perfect-being theology offers a sufficient way out of the Euthyphro dilemma. In this scenario, we see a God who acts morally naturally and without consulting any exterior moral standards (i.e., without obligation). Finally, Martin’s argument against the Bible’s view on rape fails to make any case for the atheistic position.

So can Martin be a moral realist? Yes, with regard to the order of knowing; no, with regard to the order of being.

Copyright (p)(c) 2000 Ravi Zacharias International Ministries (RZIM)