Michael S. Russo
Professor of Philosophy
Molloy College
I remember reading Pascal’s wager
as a freshman in college. Even back then
I thought there was something cold and calculating about the argument. After the extraordinary leap of logic that
Anselm makes in his ontological argument and the majestic cosmological vision
of Thomas Aquinas’ five ways, Pascal’s wager seemed like a middle class
banker’s approach to the question of God’s existence. I wish that I could say that Pascal’s
argument has grown on me over time, but, if anything, I hate the argument even
more now than I did as a freshman.
Let’s start with a brief summary
of what Pascal claims are our options with respect to belief in the existence
of God:
Our first option, he says, is to
assume that God exists and live our lives accordingly (i.e., with as much
faith, hope, and love as we can muster).
If God does exists, says Pascal, we’ve won the big prize—eternal life
with him in heaven; if he doesn’t exist, on the other hand, nothing much is
lost.
The second option is to live our
lives assuming God doesn’t exist. If, in
fact, he doesn’t, then there’s no problem.
But there’s also the possibility that God does exist, and he may not
take kindly to those who have rejected him (Just think about how hot the fires
of hell must be and how interminably long they’ll last….Yikes!).
According to Pascal, the sensible
betting man, then, will always choose option 1 (belief in God), since the
rewards for belief are great and the penalty for unbelief is too horrible to
even consider.
In an attempt to show where
Pascal goes wrong, I’d like to offer my wager-like argument. My wager makes the exact opposite point of
Pascal’s, but I think that it stands up much better than the French logician’s
argument does.
Once again, let’s assume we have
two options: (1) believe in God and live
out our lives with faith and devotion or (2) reject the belief in God and live
out our lives as atheists.
Let’s start with the second
option first. If we reject belief in God
as a silly superstition of a bygone era, there are certainly consequences to
holding this belief, as Pascal maintains.
But what exactly are those consequences?
If God doesn’t exist, then we are free to live out our lives with
enlightened self-interest. There would
be no rules we would be forced to follow, except those leading to our own
happiness and the happiness of those we love, no transcendent commands hanging
over our heads, no life lived in fear of damnation. Certainly, all this will come to an end with
death, but at least while we’re alive we’d actually be living, instead of
postponing our ultimate happiness to the next life. And our lives would probably be a heck of a
lot more fun while we’re here, because we’re living for ourselves instead of in
observance of some antiquated religious precepts.
But what if God does exist and
we’ve opted not to believe in him? Isn’t
the danger involved in this choice so great that it is best to be avoided at
all costs? That may be true, but only if
we believe in a very nasty and vindictive sort of God—a petty potentate who
punishes his followers who fail to acknowledge his greatness by unceasing acts
of submission and groveling. Is that the
kind of God who really can claim the title “Supreme Being”? He certainly doesn’t sound all that supreme
to me. I like to think that a Supreme
Being, if he does in fact exist, would be at least as moral as the most moral
human being imaginable—a Gandhi or an Albert Schweitzer, for example. It’s hard to imagine our most moral human
being behaving like a petty potentate when he encounters those who refuse to
acknowledge his greatness. Rather, our
most moral human being would probably respond to resistance the way a bemused
parent does towards difficult children—with tolerance, sympathy, and, ultimately,
forgiveness. So, if our God is actually
more like Gandhi than Benito Mussolini, the consequences for not believing in
him—if we are following our consciences, at least—would probably not be all
that horrible.
Now back to the first option: we opt
to believe in God. If he exists, there
seems to be no problem—no problem, that is, if he really is the petty potentate
who demands obedience, even at the cost of the conscience of his followers. That sort of God would certainly reward blind
faith. But again, let’s imagine that our
God is at least as moral as the most moral human being that we can
imagine. Would such a superior being
reward his followers for believing in him and groveling over him out of fear, or
ignorance, or the desire for reward? I
think not. In fact, if our God were at
least as enlightened as the most moral human being he would probably respect
the conscientious atheist much more than the groveling sycophant who simply is
covering his bets in order to reap the big reward (eternal life in heaven).
Finally, let’s say we believe in
God and he doesn’t really exist. Pascal
would say that this is no problem really, because we’d still be living a much
more moral and decent life than the non-believer. But one could argue that possessing faith in
the absence of a legitimate object of faith is the height of folly. You’d be wasting much of your life praying,
going to services, doing devotions, and following commands, duties, and
obligations that don’t make any sense in the absence of our petty
potentate-like God. Even if you only
spend three hours a week engaged in worship and acts of service—and this would
seem to be the bare minimum amount that any serious deity desiring the devotion
of his followers would expect—that would mean that you’ve spent 11,520 hours
over the course of your life focused on appeasing a being who doesn’t actually
exist. In that amount of time just
imagine all the wonderful things that you could have been doing instead—spending
more time with family and friends, enjoying nature, working to make the world
you live in a better place, or just sleeping an extra 42 minutes a day (some
people would kill to have that extra time in bed!).
Now, I am certainly not arguing
that God doesn’t exist; nor am I arguing that the life of an atheist makes more
sense than that of a believer. The point
of this exercise is to show that if we opt to follow Pascal and use a
wager-type approach to religious belief, the argument for unbelief is as strong—if
not stronger—than that for belief. In
the end, the gambler’s approach to matters of faith is as foolish an exercise
as playing roulette by always putting all your chips on black rather than red,
because you’ve heard that black has a higher probability of winning than
red. Even if you do win in the end, the
experience of playing this sort of game is simply not all that much fun. If, however, you actually derive some deep
satisfaction from the act of gambling itself, if you leave a casino feeling
like you life has a greater meaning and purpose, than by all means continue to
gamble.
Of course, my analogy here is
that religious faith makes sense if it brings greater meaning, purpose, and
happiness to one’s life. And this is
true regardless of whether or not God exists.
So believe and enjoy, believe and find peace, but please, don’t believe
simply to hedge your bets.
I think that the theist would claim that belief in God amounts to something a bit more than whether such belief makes one happy in life. It's a shallow sort of belief that rests solely upon whether such belief brings fulfillment to the believer.
ReplyDeleteTruth is truth, after all. And the truth has nothing to do with how we feel about it. The only question about truth claims of any kind is whether they correspond to reality.
A.J.
Without getting into a big debate over the correspondence theory of truth, I tend to agree with AJ. Grunthaler that whether or not a truth-claim makes you happy is a poor criterion for its soundness. It's much better if there is solid evidence behind it. So much the worse for theism, since there is no evidence for it. The claims of the theists are basically bald assertions, backed up by adamance, and news-from-nowhere in the ramblings of ancient texts.
ReplyDelete