Dan Fincke on the Validity of Morality

Introducing Dr. Fincke
    One of the more difficult challenges facing atheists is that of establishing a basis for morality. Individual atheists, of course, are capable of being decent, humane, and civilized people. They are, after all, human beings and have feelings just like the rest of us (at least the ones that aren't scientists!). But the problem lies in trying to establish an objective code of conduct. If there is no God one would suppose that there are no transcendent, universally binding rules. In trying to establish a code of morality the atheist runs up against what is known as "the naturalistic fallacy," the problem of trying to deduce an "ought" from an "is." He can say what is, but he cannot say what ought to be. All he knows is that things are just the way they are. It is precisely this point that gives many of the rest of us grave misgivings about atheism. It erodes the very foundations of civilization.
    Dr. Daniel Fincke, however, an atheist blogger at Patheos, believes that he has found a way out of the problem. Raised in a devout evangelical Christian home, he underwent a difficult process of deconversion and eventually became enamored with the writings of Nietzsche. He went on to earn a doctorate in philosophy and has several teaching positions at universities in the metropolitan New York area. He specializes in writing about ethics and morality.
    Dr. Fincke has devoted a page on his website to an essay entitled "Morality's Validity".  Most of the essay is devoted to refuting the extreme nihilist position. He describes himself as "an indirect consequentialist" and says that he believes in "modest, non-absolutist, instrumental moral norms." What he apparently means by this is that values and moral norms are not completely relative. As human beings we have the shared experience of living in a physical environment and in human society. As a result, actions have consequences, some of them detrimental. Therefore some choices in life are manifestly better than others, and this forms the basis for an objective moral code. Dr. Fincke summarizes his position this way: we have an "intrinsic rational interest in pursuing our own functioning, on pain of practical contradiction if we choose otherwise." He says "we can rank competing values and recognize that the kinds of achievements for powerfully living in, predicting and mastering the world that we get from thinking like modern, scientific people make our standards of rational investigation and affirmation better than theirs. Our values and the norms we follow are in some ways truly better." What he appears to be offering then is a modern, scientific version of Utilitarianism, the doctrine of the greatest good for the greatest number, with the "good" defined in terms of usefulness.

 
But who decides?

 
    The theory sounds attractive on the surface, but on closer inspection is fraught with difficulties. Dr. Fincke says that "our" values and norms are truly better than "theirs." But who are "we" and "they"? Who decides which values make for "achievements for powerfully living" and "mastering the world"? The problem here, quite simply, is that oftentimes crime pays. If moral standards are based on "our own functioning," then the drug dealer, the organized crime boss, the predatory capitalist, and the crooked politician can all claim to be acting morally, since they are all apparently successful at what they are doing. To their minds they have made rational choices in life, and their choices are paying off. Nice guys finish last!
    There is an obvious objection to this, of course. Because we are constrained to live in human society, we have to have a common set of rules. And so we are said to have entered into a "social contract" with our fellow human beings, and in so doing have surrendered some of our individual autonomy to some central authority. There is then some sort of political process that makes rules for society as a whole. But is this really the same thing as "morality"? Several problems arise.
    First of all, there are some human actions that are too petty to fall under the purview of civil legislation – things like gossip, lying and quarreling. Are these things moral just because they are legal?
    Then there are the logical inconsistencies that arise in the laws. Selling marijuana is still illegal in most U.S. states, but selling tobacco is not. Does this make selling tobacco moral? What is the difference between the two? If anything, tobacco is more harmful that marijuana.
    And then there is the process by which laws are made. As they say in politics, you don't want to know how the sausage was made – it would turn your stomach. Can a corrupt process yield a moral result? Isn't politics itself often morally suspect?
    And what about morally dubious actions taken by the government itself? We have witnessed numerous instances of torture, aggression and genocide. On what basis can we say that these are wrong? By what standard shall the body politic as a whole be judged?
    So who decides, the individual or society? If the former, then there is no stability in government. If the latter, there is no room for dissent.
    Here we see the dilemma in which feminism finds itself. When it comes to abortion, feminists insist that morality is a matter of "personal choice" – due process of law simply doesn't apply. But when it comes to rape, it is a different story. No man has a right to rape a woman. But what about the moral autonomy of the rapist? Does he have "freedom of choice"? One would hope not. So are there universally binding norms or are there not? The feminist position looks suspiciously self-serving.

 
Problems with "functionality"

 
    But does "functionality" really give us clear answers to ethical questions? We see several problems here as well.
    First of all, how do we determine what is "functional"? How do we determine what the particular function of any particular thing is?
    The idea of "function" almost suggests the medieval notion of teleology, or its more modern step-child, Intelligent Design. The underlying assumption here is that everything exists for a purpose, or naturally tends towards a predetermined end. But if there is no Designer (and Dr. Fincke assures us that there is not), and if everything came about through a blind, purposeless, impersonal, natural process, how can anything properly be said to have a specific "function"? Isn't the "function" the purpose for which something was designed?
    Dr. Fincke might reply that natural selection supplies function. If the iron rule of evolution is "the survival of the fittest," then whatever enhances the chances of the human species for survival would be "moral."
    But to make matters even more complicated and confusing, if we are all in an ongoing process of evolution, then there really are not fixed categories in nature. Everything is in a state of flux. And if there are no fixed categories then there are not fixed functions. The species is constantly being "redesigned," as it were. Thus what may appear to be dysfunctional today may simply be a transition to something more functional tomorrow. And since we cannot predict what tomorrow may hold, how can we say the function of a given thing may become?
    By either standard, whether by design or by accident, it is hard to see how homosexuality could conform to our functionality. The obvious function of our reproductive organs is, well, reproduction, and that requires a heterosexual relationship. From a traditional, theistic perspective, homosexuality is a "perversion," a deviation form the divinely ordained norm. From an evolutionary standpoint, it would constitute a regressive tendency that diminishes the species' chances for survival. What the ancients understood and we moderns have forgotten, the welfare of humanity depends on women having babies. How then does homosexuality enhance functionality?

    But the problem of assigning function becomes even more perplexing when we consider the possibilities of the human imagination. How we are not talking about what exists now, but rather about what might come into being. But of the myriad possibilities for future development, which ones should we choose? Do we focus on our physical and material well-being, or is there a spiritual and aesthetic side to life as well? Do we wish to maximize individual freedom, or should we strive for the common good? Does social justice consist in equality of outcome, or merely in equality of opportunity? Sparta and Athens gave different answers to questions life these.

    In the final analysis, it is not function that determines values, but values that determine function. We first decide what we want to achieve, and we set goals for ourselves. It is the goals that determine whether or not something is functional. Thus in the broader realm of human culture, functionality is determined by our a priori values.

 

Searching for Utopia

 

    Philosophers, in fact, have never been able to reach a consensus as to what our values should be. But why is this so? Dr. Fincke himself hints at the underlying reason when he speaks of "those flourishing goods which we all most basically value," but then adds "or would if we understood properly." Why don't we "understand properly"?

    It could be argued that if people "understood properly," they would want to live in a society in which everyone lived by the Golden Rule. It would be a society in which everyone dealt honestly, respected each other's dignity and rights, and looked after each other's welfare. It would be a society entirely free of poverty, crime and war. Everyone would have access to healthcare. In other words, if everyone understood properly, they would arrive at pretty much the same conclusion that Jesus did in the Sermon on the Mount.

    Why don't we then? The answer lies in human nature. We are wedded to the iron law of self-interest. Rationally we know that everyone would be better off if we were all altruists, if they realized, as Dr. Fincke put it, that "there are some rules worth adhering to even when they violate our short term interest because they contribute vitally to the group's thriving which indirectly is in our own long term interest. . ." But when the interests of society come into conflict with our individual self interest, we hesitate. We are back where we started. The simple fact of the matter is that sometimes crime pays.

    Even "enlightened self-interest" is still self-interest. As long as we are wedded to self-interest we are bound to negotiate with the rest of society to find a compromise. The end result is something less than Utopia. A morality based on "indirect consequentialism" and "modest, non-absolutist, instrumental moral norms" is ultimately a morality of convenience. Concepts such as "duty," "honor," and "integrity" evaporate. Can this really be called "morality"? Is morality really nothing more than avoiding negative consequences? We are afraid that in the end Dr. Fincke's solution leaves us unsatisfied.

    But more to the point, why do we think that certain actions are somehow morally wrong even when they are perfectly legal and even patently successful? How could we argue with success?

    The answer is that we have been endowed with a conscience. What sets us apart as human beings from the animal kingdom is our sense of morality. We do not simply act of instinct and conditioning as the animals do, but have a definite sense that certain things are right and others wrong. We feel an uncanny sense of accountability to some standard of conduct outside of ourselves, and we feel a sense of guilt and shame when we violate it. It is nothing less than the Law of God written upon our hearts, and it is an important evidence for the existence of the Deity.

            "He has shown you, O man, what is good;

             And what does the Lord require of you

             But to do justly,

             To love mercy,

             And to walk humbly with your God?"

                                (Mic. 6:8; NKJV)

Related blog posts:
Atheism and Morality 
Good Without God? 
A Scientific Basis for Morality? 
Alasdair MacIntyre: A Study in Moral Theory 
The Case for Moral Absolutes