This past week, I posted about how morality
without God rests on a form of self-deception. This post, to my surprise, gave
rise to a discussion among my friends about Divine Command Theory, which I
abbreviate as DCT in what follows. That discussion has caused me to think more
deeply about DCT. In this post, I have explored new thoughts—at least new to me—on
how DCT influences our understanding of ecclesiastical authority. I have also
discussed other aspects of DCT. What follows is not carefully and analytically
argued. Much of it may prove objectionable. It is not intended as an airtight argument,
but as my general impressions of DCT’s problems. To discuss those problems,
though, I must first briefly identify what DCT is.
Divine Command Theory*
Divine Command Theory (DCT) is a metaphysical theory about what
makes an action right or wrong. Advocates of the theory hold that when God
commands something, it is obligatory to do that thing. So if God commands
Abraham to sacrifice Isaac, then it is morally obligatory (and morally
praiseworthy) for Abraham to plunge the dagger into his son.
This view stands in conflict with Moral Realism. Moral Realism,
for our purposes, comes in two types: Platonism and Divine Goodness Theories
(DGT). Platonism posits universal, eternal moral realities that exist
independently of God. These realities fix what is right and wrong, good and
evil. When human agents grasp that murder is wrong, they grasp a universal,
eternal law that exists independently of what any agent believes. Christian
theologians have been reluctant to accept Platonism, as it invokes realities
that God did not create and to which he is subject.
DGT, in comparison, import these “Platonic” moral realities into
God’s nature. Stated differently, under DGT, God’s nature is essentially
good. Thus, when human agents grasp that murder is wrong, they grasp God’s
nature, achieving a type of intellectual union with it. This theory,
importantly, is different than DCT. For theorists of DGT (keep up with the
acronyms) say that God’s nature is fixed and essentially good. God
cannot change his nature tomorrow to make murder consistent with it. But DCT
roots God’s goodness in his will, which is not fixed. God can
command murder one day and revoke that command the next.
One problem a proponent of DGT must face is a lack of divine
omnipotence. DGT, after all, maintains that God’s nature is fixed and
that God must act consistent with it. God cannot alter his nature. He is
what he essentially is. Nor can he act contrary to that nature, for he
is essentially good.
Most proponents of DGT address the problem of omnipotence by
claiming that acts inconsistent with goodness are not acts of power.
Thus, murder is not an act of power. Acts of power, under this understanding,
express goodness. And murder does not express goodness.
Advocates of DCT reject this solution. They instead claim that God
is not constrained by his nature. He can command anything. At one time he may
say, “thou shalt not murder,” and at another, “thou shalt utterly destroy.” If
he is not constrained by a fixed nature, he can be omnipotent in the
strongest sense of the term. William of Ockham, a well known advocate of DCT,
made this move to preserve divine omnipotence. But in resolving the problem of
divine omnipotence, DCT creates new ones.
Problems with DCT
The problems created by DCT are manifold. Many may prove soluble.
For my purposes, I will focus on two-types of problems. The first type of
problem concerns how DCT distorts the divine nature. The second type concerns
how DCT distorts our understanding of free will and ecclesiastical power.
Problems with the Divine Nature
Regarding the first type, DCT safeguards divine power by making
goodness purely subjective: goodness is what God decrees. So if God commands
the murder of children, it would be morally obligatory and morally good to
carry out that command. Under this theory, we should praise those who comply
with God’s command.[1]
But we intuitively view the murder of children as deeply wrong, no
matter who commands it. By the light of our own reason, we would adjudicate a
god who commanded such a thing, as a god engaged in immoral acts. This, to my
mind, reveals that DCT fundamentally misunderstands the foundations of moral
goodness and moral obligations.
But an advocate of DCT will contend that we simply err in our
moral judgments when we adjudicate the divinely commanded murder of children to
be wrong. In making this move, the advocate owes us an error theory. In
philosophical parlance, an error theory explains why we err in our judgments.
Take the analogous case of free will. Some philosophers deny that we have free
will. In so doing, they must confront the fact that we experience ourselves as
endowed with the capacity for free choice.
Similarly, in this case, the divine command advocate must explain
why we err in seeing God’s commands as immoral. If God commanded the murder of
a son, why do we experience this event as unethical? Is it merely due to
societal convention that we view such an act as wrong?
Each of these answers is plausible enough. They reveal,
however, another problem for DCT. For the theory imagines a world where our
moral judgments may be radically wrong. When you and I intuit the murder of a
child as wrong, we could be mistaken; God may have commanded it. And if we
could be wrong about that judgment, we could be wrong about a whole host of
pedestrian judgments. Furthermore, we could be right about one judgment today
(murder of children is wrong), and wrong about it tomorrow when God decrees the
opposite.
More deeply, then, the God of DCT may have created us in such a
way that we cannot recognize good and evil. This, in turn, has some drastic
implications for human culpability for sin--an issue I do not grapple with
here. Instead, I am more interested in the effects of DCT in more practical
affairs. And it is to that issue that I now turn.
DCT’s
Effect on Free Will and Ecclesiastical Authority
In addition to the problems listed above, I believe DCT gives rise
to several more practical problems. First, it distorts our view of human free
will. For our understanding of human free will follows our understanding of
divine free will. This is not a necessary truth, but a historically verified
contingent truth.
Before DCT gained widespread acceptance among theological circles,
Moral Realism of the DGT variety held sway. DGT, as discussed above, modeled
divine free will as constrained by the divine nature. God cannot murder a child
as it is inconsistent with his nature. Those who held this view, also held an
analogous view of human free will. The proper use of freedom, for these
theologians, was the conduct in conformity with human nature. But human agents,
unlike God, are fallible and weak willed. We often commit acts that are
inconsistent with our God-given natures; whereas God, who is infallible,
perfectly realizes his nature.
When DCT gained traction, a new model of human freedom arose. Now,
human freedom was not the power to actualize a human nature, but the freedom to
express one’s will. This, strangely, has caused us to view the proper exercise
of human freedom as unconstrained by any moral laws. True freedom, is not
freedom to actualize moral laws grounded in essential human nature. No.
True freedom is freedom from any constraints on the human will.[2]
DCT has also, in my judgment, had an impact on the notion of
ecclesiastical authority and legitimacy. Those who embrace DCT see God’s
authority as flowing from his power, not from his goodness. This may be a
controversial point. But if God does not have a fixed, essentially good
nature, then his authority is grounded in the exercise of his will. Whatever
he wills is good because he wills it. Stated differently, we give ascent
to God’s commands because those commands flow from the exercise of God’s power,
not because they flow from an essentially good, divine nature. And where we
give ascent to God because of his power, we worship God because he is
powerful.
This, it seems to me, holds some negative implications for
ecclesiastical authority. For parishioners who come to see a particular person
as uniquely connected God, will come to treat that person's authority in a way analogous to the way they treat God's authority. They will come to believe that this person's authority is legitimate because it
is an exercise of authority.
I believe this is exactly the wrong orientation. I believe
ecclesiastical authority is legitimate only where it is legitimate. Put
differently, legitimacy flows, at least in part, from morality, not solely from authority. A man’s
pronouncements are not authoritative merely because he thunders them from atop
a figurative ecclesiastical Mt. Moriah. To be sure, we must give latitude to
God’s divinely appointed leaders. But that latitude has limits—limits I do not
fully explore in this already lengthy post.
Conclusion
In the end, many who suppose themselves advocates of DCT are
actually driven by a sense of epistemic humility. Namely, the trust God’s
judgments more than their own, including when those judgments are given through
earthly authority. This is admirable, and I too strive for that humility. But
we should not equate epistemic humility with divine command theory. The former
actually assumes, I believe, an objective moral order that God is better able
to perceive; the latter assumes no such order and no such perceiving. It
instead denies a moral order and holds that God’s commands generate the
moral order.
As I hope to discuss in my next post, this view, in its starkest
form, is inconsistent with Mormonism’s view of God. I also reemphasize that what
I have said above may be objectionable in many particulars. Some of my readers
may wish to defend DCT, and there are good defenses of my comments above. But I
will ultimately argue that DCT is a flawed metaphysical theory inconsistent
with Mormon theism.
* A great deal of nuisance among divine command theories. I cannot explore all of those nuisances here, and some may rightly accuse me of creating a straw-man version of DCT. But the version I present is the most basic articulation of the theory.
[1] The theory also, I note, distorts divine goodness, leading to the conclusion that God lacks moral virtue because a moral virtue would have to be defined as a habit to do an action that God commands.
[1] The theory also, I note, distorts divine goodness, leading to the conclusion that God lacks moral virtue because a moral virtue would have to be defined as a habit to do an action that God commands.
[2] For those interested in this point, I commend David Bentley Hart’s
book, Atheist Delusions, where this idea is explored in greater detail.
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