A G K Y R A

A personal and theological perspective on things good, bad, and indifferent

August 5th, 2007

The Problem of Normativity

In my post on Human Origins and the Rise of Religion, I said that, with respect to a theistic theory of evolution,

The rise of religious consciousness in humans is part of God’s purpose in bringing them into person-to-person relationship with himself. What’s more, this end point provides a reference from which theistic evolutionists can justifiably call the rise of humankind an advance. Atheistic evolutionists can’t do that since there is no goal, no teleology, no purpose. The most they can do is say that it’s an advance from our (human) perspective, which lands them in a whole ‘nother morass: why should that be our perspective? “Should” is such an important word. The inescapable reality of normativity is the most serious problem atheists face. They can’t explain it and don’t know what to do with it. They can’t find a reliable source for it, but they can’t live without it.

Jewish Atheist asks me to explain what I mean by the normativity problem.

What I am referring to is the dichotomy between the positive and the normative, between the empirical and the ethical, between what “is” the case and what “ought” to be the case. To give an example, “Herbert is a drug addict” is a positive statement, a statement of what is the case (presumably), while “Herbert ought not to be a drug addict” is a normative statement, a statement about the way things should be.

The reason normativity is a problem for atheists is that norms do not exist in nature. They aren’t “out there” to be observed. You can’t look under a rock and find an insect that somehow signifies that it is wrong to murder. Norms only come from persons and yet–and this is the tricky part for atheists–we believe our norms say something about the world and not just something about ourselves. When I say that Herbert ought not to be a drug addict, I am not just projecting my own personal likes or dislikes onto Herbert. At least I don’t like to think that’s what I’m doing. When I say that Hitler ought not to have killed so many people (or indeed any people), I’m saying he did something wrong, not just something I don’t like. His actions are wrong by reference to universal norms, which are a lot bigger than me and my personal opinion.

But, if my expression of a norm is to go beyond mere personal sentiment, it must have reference to something outside of me. The rules of any game govern the players. If one player passes Go and takes $1,000 out of the bank, another player can cry foul and point to the rules to prove it. In a game like baseball, the rules are written, but the umpire is the living embodiment and interpreter of the rules, the one who judges how they apply to the concrete situation of a particular baseball game.

If nature is all there is, where do we find the rulebook? Who is the umpire who can settle a dispute?

How can I rightly say that Hitler ought not to have killed anybody? I can’t find a way to move past the positive observation that Hitler just did kill lots and lots of people. It’s a fact, but how can I move past the fact to a norm? You see, I can’t get a norm just by looking at the facts. Norms have to come from someone. All I can say is that I wish he hadn’t killed all those people, which is another way of saying I don’t like that he did. In a world without God, norms are merely sentiments. Perhaps they’re sentiments that can be enforced (with a gun, with blackmail, or even with a persuasive argument), but they have no foundation beyond the personal likes and dislikes of the person who expresses them.

In my post on the Flying Spaghetti Monster, I pointed out that the place atheists most commonly try to ground their own moral and ethical norms is in the concept of utility. The reason you or I ought to do this or that is that doing so will be advantageous to us. You shouldn’t be a drug addict because it will ultimately decrease your utility, or happiness. Don’t get me wrong, it might also be advantageous to lots of other people for you to avoid being drug addicted, but even that idea (that we ought to do what is advantageous for others) is an expression of a norm that will need to be grounded in something else. It all ultimately boils down to a question of what will be to your own personal advantage. Note also that the very idea that utility or, shall we say, personal happiness is a goal worth striving for is not to be found in nature. The starting point of a utilitarian approach to norms already presupposes a norm. If we tout our norms as based on a conception of maximized utility, we are really just saying that it’s our goal to make ourselves as happy as possible.

The problem is that Hitler believed he would be happier if he killed lots of people. The problem is that some people today derive enjoyment from hurting other people or animals or the environment. They’re acting to maximize their utility, to make themselves as happy as possible. One could dismiss them as sickos or psychos, but that would merely be to impose our own values onto them.

And why shouldn’t we impose our own values onto them, or they onto us, for that matter? If nature is all that exists, and we’re part of nature, then there is no rulebook and no umpire. It’s the law of the jungle. Winners and losers, certainly, but no right or wrong. The psychos try to kill the “normal” people (notice the word “norm” in there?), and the normal people lock up the psychos in prison. But who is to say what’s really normal? If there were no God, cosmic government would be like the national government described in Judges 17:6 (and again in 21:25):

In those days there was no king in Israel. Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.

I have been speaking mostly about ethical norms, but there are other kinds as well, such as teleological norms. For something moving toward a goal or destination, that endpoint is a reference for measuring progress. The closer you move toward the goal, the more progress you have made. Many atheists like to think of the evolution of humankind as progress, but to describe it that way is to smuggle in the distinctively personal and human idea of a purpose, goal, or destination against which progress can be measured. If there is no transcendent being who has revealed the purpose to us, we are in no position to say what constitutes progress, if anything. In fact, we can go so far as to say that if there is no personal God, then while there may be a natural movement toward greater complexity, there is neither purpose nor goal, and so that movement is no progress. Natural processes don’t have goals. In nature, things simply happen. Humankind is itself merely the product of natural processes and in no position to dictate to nature what its goal is, let alone–ahem–what its goal should be.

Obviously, normativity is not a problem for theists. There is a God who is the objective reference point for all norms. His likes and dislikes, not ours, are the criteria by which things are judged good or bad, right or wrong. By saying this, I don’t pretend that the normativity problem somehow entails the existence of God. It is conceivable that nature is all there is and that our ideas about extra-personal norms are just an illusion. If that’s the case, then I would like to see atheists try to live that out consistently–only because I know they cannot succeed. Perhaps then they would take their new understanding of norms as the corner piece in a new attempt at fitting the jigsaw puzzle together. At bottom, the problem of normativity is an existential problem. We cannot live without them. We cannot live with them if they aren’t grounded in anything beyond ourselves. They cannot be grounded in nature, but only in a personal third party: you-know-who.

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