Following on from our Deconstructing God preaching series, we are publishing a series of articles addressing some of the big questions raised by our secular culture against the Christian faith. In this post, Tom Stewart tackles the question of morality.
I love maps, both old and new. I can lose myself in them for hours.
I have a precious memory of going to The National Library of Australia in Canberra with my Dad to visit an exhibition called, Mapping Our World: Terra Incognita to Australia. Countless maps from hundreds of times and places. The history of cartography lay before us. As we wandered the exhibition, taking in all the marvellous blunders and triumphs of mapmaking, I realised that in both our pockets we had smart phones that could render to us maps of anywhere on the planet with pinpoint accuracy. We lived in a world with accurate maps—I had never really appreciated just how good we had it.
As humans, we all undertake a journey of moral cartography. A journey of discovering or determining what is right and wrong, good and evil. We inherit an old map from those who raised us, find something to use as a compass, and start making our own additions and amendments. For many, slowing down to consider this art, this science, can seem like a waste of time. After all, it seems to be working, doesn’t it?
This blog post might read a bit differently from the rest in our Deconstructing God series. The thrust of it is to encourage you to take a moment to reflect on your own journey of moral cartography.
Where have you drawn the lines? What reasons do you have for doing so? What is your moral compass, and is it reliable?
This is, therefore, what philosophers call a meta-ethical discussion. A discussion about the foundation of our moral system rather than the system itself. As a carpenter I know that a house is only as strong as its foundation. As a student of philosophy, I know the same is true of our ethics.
OBJECTIVE & SUBJECTIVE TRUTH
You may have heard these phrases before: “Sure, but it’s not objectively true,” or “That’s just subjective!”
Objectivity and Subjectivity are indeed important terms in the conversation of morality, but I think they could be understood and handled a little more accurately.
When something is objectively true, it is true in and of itself, intrinsically. It does not need an affirmative opinion to make it true. It is true regardless of opinion.
The proposition, “Scotland is North of Wales” is one such proposition. It is true objectively because it is true regardless of what people say or think. We could lose every map and compass in the world, and everyone could deny that Scotland is North of Wales, but the proposition would still be true.
On the other hand, if something is subjectively true, it is true according to the subject, the person perceiving the object.
If I’m standing in the line at my favourite gelato place (Mapo on King Street in Newtown in case you were wondering!), and say the proposition “Salted caramel is the best flavour of ice cream”, it might be true for me, the subject, but it is not true of the object. It is perfectly sound for another person standing with me to prefer another flavour. It is not that I am wrong, and the other is right. It is that discussion of ‘the best ice cream flavour’ is subjective—it’s about us, the subjects.
SO… IS MORALITY SUBJECTIVE OR OBJECTIVE?
Is morality like picking your favourite Mapo flavour or is it like charting a map? Either way, both have massive consequences for how our moral systems orientate our life.
If morality is a purely subjective matter, a matter of personal or communal preference, then we can compare our moral preferences with each other, but we forfeit the right to say one is better than the other. Because, when morality is not objectively true, there is no real moral landscape to compare with. On this view, all moral maps are personal fictions, something akin to Tolkien’s map of Middle Earth. We cannot say Tolkien’s map is inaccurate or wrong because it does not claim to be mapping the real world. There is no real Middle Earth and so Tolkien was free to put the mountains and the plains where he fancied.
So, can we be as free with our moral cartography as Tolkien was with his fantastic?
If only morality was as easy to verify as the mountains. We can see those. Reach out, touch them, climb them.
Whilst morality may not be seen, it is certainly felt. When we witness an innocent being abused, we think “That’s unfair. That’s wrong.” Our hearts leap from our chest demanding “Justice!” That passion betrays our belief that there is some universal line that is being crossed. And we yearn to believe that that line was not merely drawn by our own hands like the preference for salted caramel ice cream.
It is for that reason that most of us talk of morality as if it is objectively true. As if there are correct and incorrect answers to questions of Good and Evil. We talk as if those things really exist. And because we do that, we make our moral maps with a degree of weightiness, knowing that we are attempting to capture a real moral landscape. We try to determine what the summits and valleys of morality are. And if we disagree, someone calls a moral summit what you determined a valley, we argue about it because we believe there is a right and wrong answer.
However, we want to say that everyone is free to make their own choices, find your own truth, call things how you see it. The inconsistency here is visible on both sides of the same coin.
On one side, some claim there is an objective moral reality yet still say people can make up their own moral system. This is like saying that yes, there is a true shape to the earth, but you can make and orientate your maps in whatever way you choose. In the same way that this would be disastrous for navigation, it also makes true moral progress chaotic and unknown. It would be like telling a group of friends in Sydney to meet in Newcastle and letting them wander off in all four cardinal directions. Only the ones heading North will make any progress, and only randomly at that!
On the other side, some deny objective morality and yet still say others are incorrect. This is like genuinely calling someone wrong for choosing mango Mapo over salted caramel. ‘Correctness’ implies that there is something to measure up against, a true standard. If we reject the idea that there is such a thing to measure against, we must also forfeit our right to call things correct or incorrect.
So, what does it look like to live consistently with moral objectivity or a lack thereof?
NO OBJECTIVE MORAL REALITY
The seeming advantage of a world with no objective morality is that we are free to map our morality however we like. Hooray! Freedom! Moreover, there is no need for those sticky confrontational ethical debates.
After some time and a bit of thinking, however, the sweetness of that freedom starts to turn bitter.
If morality is a purely subjective matter, it reduces the gravity of moral discussion to that of personal preference and societal convenience. Two nations might differ in their moral systems just as much as two people disagree on the best flavour of Mapo ice cream. Those nations are no more or less correct than advocates of different flavours and no less out of place demanding a moral standard than if one ice-cream-licker condemns the choice of the other.
OBJECTIVE MORAL REALITY
On the other hand, there are weighty consequences of an objective moral reality.
If there is an objective moral reality, then all our actions are held against a certain standard. There are genuinely Good and Evil ways to live life and we do not get to choose what they are.
This, at first taste, seems bitter. But unlike the rejection of objective morality, this taste improves as you come to appreciate it.
When we decide there is one true shape and size of Earth, we can then go about refining our maps to capture it more and more accurately. And if the same is true of morality, we can better attempt to capture and understand what Right and Wrong really is. We can call horrendous moral acts truly Evil with a legitimacy that was not available to us without objectivity. We can encourage and lift up those who act virtuously as genuinely Good, rather than just tasteful or convenient.
Believing in objective moral reality means you must ground your belief in something. It is no good to say, “Good and Evil truly exist,” without grounding it in something outside your opinion. You need an objective measuring stick.
CHARTING A COURSE
When looking back on our personal system of morality, our own moral cartography, we may be surprised to realise that a lot of what we believe has either been mapped by those who raised us or been made up by ourselves without objective grounding. This realisation should encourage us to do our own thinking, to find a good basis for our moral cartography, and to amend our inherited map where we see fit.
When I genuinely thought about this for the first time I got to a point where I could no longer believe morality was purely subjective. To explain that journey requires another blog post altogether.
What I will say is that thinking this for the first time was both exciting and daunting. It meant that there really is a True North for morality. We can orientate ourselves and endeavour for genuine moral progress.
It also meant that I could be wrong, or worse, evil. A very sobering thought.
The question then became, what worldview can best satisfy both my intellectual demands and ground my moral convictions?
My journey led me to think the best grounding we can find is in the claims and person of Jesus. Jesus showed the world what it looks like to navigate by God’s compass. He showed the religious authorities that their moral cartography was too simplistic for God’s moral landscape. And he invited us all to continue our journey with him as our guide.
Whilst my journey to get to this point involved a lot of heady thinking, it also involved a lot of hearty softening. Jesus won the debate, but he also won my heart. Again, explaining how I arrived at this is outside the scope of this blog post. My hope, though, is that reading this has felt like steps forward on your journey. My prayer is that it has helped you find your feet, get your bearings, and start or continue your pilgrimage.
Got Questions?
If this article has sparked interest for you, Anchor Church regularly runs a course called Alpha for people who are interested in exploring the big questions of life, faith, and meaning.