On Cornmarket Street, at the very center of Oxford, there has arisen a funny situation. At one end, in a lovely old building straight out of medieval England, there is a restaurant called Prêt à Manger. As the name implies, they sell food that is “ready to eat,” pre-made and packaged on the shelf. So you walk in, search the shelf for whatever sandwich you desire, and take it up to the check out. These ready-made sandwiches are wildly popular here and are sold all over the place. But what is particularly funny is that at the other end of Cornmarket Street, just a 30 second walk away (it’s a small street), is another Prêt à Manger. Same deal – same prepackaged sandwiches, same overpriced chips, the whole shebang.
This scene made me think of a similar one in Edinburgh that I could not help noticing when I was there a few summers back. Walking along Princess Street in the new section of the city, at every corner I came to a guy holding a sign pointing down the intersecting street that said “Pizza Hut this way.” I kid you not, at one point I passed three or four consecutive streets, each one block apart, at which a Pizza Hut man was seen lurking. And looking down each street as I walked by, sure enough, there was a Pizza Hut.
The phenomenon of the uber-popular fast food establishments in Europe astonishes me, whether it is Pizza Hut or the healthier Prêt. It amazes me because it is completely unnecessary. Here in Oxford, there are so many options just a minute or two walk away from each Prêt where you can get a whole baguette sandwich, much tastier, much more filling, and just all around more excellent than the Prêt sandwiches for the same price or less. And what really doesn’t make sense to me, is that there are two Sainsbury’s (the local grocery) within five minutes of the Prêts (and one is about fifteen seconds from the northern Prêt), which sell the same sandwiches sold at Prêt for much cheaper. So here are the options: Prêt, with its overpriced normal sandwiches, Sainsbury’s, with the same sandwiches for cheaper, or the local baguette place with better food for the same price or cheaper than Prêt. It doesn’t seem to be a hard decision, but I guess it is, given the crowds that I always see in Prêt.
Needless to say, I ate at Prêt once, and I do not intend to ever return. It wasn’t hard for me to find a place I enjoyed much more, and to me, there is more that rides on sandwich choice than mere gastronomy. Where you choose to dine can add entire new dimensions to the experience you have, wherever you live. While I always enjoy good food, I am equally enthralled with the idea of becoming a “regular.” But some places are much more worthy of regularity than others. Regularity is like beautiful decorations adorning a house: if the house is ugly, the decorations only make the house uglier. Likewise, regularity should be paired with food and atmosphere that are worthy of note.
On Holywell Street, there is this little establishment called the ATS, the Alternative Tuck Shop. It provides an alternative (obviously) to the original Tuck Shop, which is just down the street, though the original seems to be mostly a newspaper shop, not a tuck shop. The ATS is tiny; you cannot eat in the place, just order and take out. But it has the most amazing sandwiches and paninis around. Whether you want chicken satay or tikka; turkey, brie, and cranberry; the avocado melt; chicken pesto; or any of the huge assortment of more common sandwiches; this place has it all. And to top it off, all their bread is homemade and simply scrumptious.
This has become my local noontide haunt when I dine out for lunch. And in consistently choosing it for lunch, I have become a regular. The same guys work there every day, and amidst the huge demand (there is always a long line out the door), they still always have time to ask how I’ve been doing lately. Being a regular is one of those pleasures that makes you feel like you have actually become part of the establishment. You are no longer the visiting foreigner; you have become a local. This opportunity has been most gratifying to me; indeed, it is this sort of thing that I know I will recall in my old age with great fondness: “You remember that little ATS place with the amazing chicken satay? Those were the days.” Being a regular there almost makes me proud, like I am a representative for a worthy cause, and eating at the ATS is surely a worthy cause. The food and unique atmosphere are exceptional, and I doubt I will find another sandwich shop so worthy anytime soon.
And no adventure is complete without also becoming a regular at some coffee shop. Coffee shops have always been my favorite place to sit down and relax, study, or write, and this is no different in Oxford. In fact, I am writing this blog in a coffee shop, and by my estimations, the best one in Oxford. Here I am in Caffè Nero in Blackwell’s Bookshop, the largest bookstore I have ever encountered. I can’t imagine a more heavenly coffee shop. It is always abuzz with the eager chatter of undergrads and the elderly alike. There is this one man I always see here and you can always here him talking with his companion (generally one other man in particular) about some sort of philosophical topic. There are always the homework doers scattered about at tables and the bibliophiles in the comfortable chairs. And almost every book you could ever want to read is right at your fingertips to peruse and enjoy without the need to purchase, but in a much more lovely environment than the local library. Ah yes, it is wonderful. Here too I have become a regular, spending many afternoons with a cup of coffee (or water, when the coffee money has reached its budgeted allowance), reading, writing, or working.
But this is a different sort of regularity. Though the baristas may recognize me, the homeliness that arises here is in its lazy atmosphere and the smells and sounds of coffee and book lovers. Stress disappears in this place and all is happiness, coffee, and books, which are all, of course, exactly the same thing.
Being a regular, then, can take different forms. It can mean familiarity with food, knowing the workers, or it can simply be feeling as if you are in your home away from home. Whichever way regularity is manifested, it is one of those joys that needs to be cherished and recognized, for sometimes it can pass you by if it is never acknowledged. I know I will always be an American, so I will never truly be at home abroad, but this is a major step and perhaps the most important for me. So if you can’t find me, I’m probably at Blackwell’s or coming there from the ATS. It’s good to be a regular again.
Whoa Random
So to break up things a bit, here are some interesting facts for your amusement:
- Ligers exist; yes, you heard me correctly. Napoleon Dynamite did not actually make them up, much to my amazement. A liger is a cross between a male lion and a female tiger. Wikipedia says so.
- The Great Wall of China is actually NOT visible to the unaided eye from space, even in low earth orbit.
- The word dord was included for five years in Webster's Dictionary starting in 1934. Unfortunately, this word does not exist.
- Chop Suey, a classic Chinese dish, is American in origin and literally means "odds and ends"
- Neil Armstrong intended to say, "That's one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind," which would have made a lot more sense than what he really said. When he saw his quote in the newspapers, he verified this.
- You can work out the temperature by counting how many times crickets are chirping outside, though I can't tell you the exact relationship.
- There's some guy in Australia who calls himself Prince Leonard and he rules over a self-proclaimed principality called the Hutt River Province - they even have their own currency! And the Aussie government seems to be okay with it!
Well, bedtime for me. Hope you have enjoyed these random facts.
- Ligers exist; yes, you heard me correctly. Napoleon Dynamite did not actually make them up, much to my amazement. A liger is a cross between a male lion and a female tiger. Wikipedia says so.
- The Great Wall of China is actually NOT visible to the unaided eye from space, even in low earth orbit.
- The word dord was included for five years in Webster's Dictionary starting in 1934. Unfortunately, this word does not exist.
- Chop Suey, a classic Chinese dish, is American in origin and literally means "odds and ends"
- Neil Armstrong intended to say, "That's one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind," which would have made a lot more sense than what he really said. When he saw his quote in the newspapers, he verified this.
- You can work out the temperature by counting how many times crickets are chirping outside, though I can't tell you the exact relationship.
- There's some guy in Australia who calls himself Prince Leonard and he rules over a self-proclaimed principality called the Hutt River Province - they even have their own currency! And the Aussie government seems to be okay with it!
Well, bedtime for me. Hope you have enjoyed these random facts.
Christianity and Pluralism
In my last post I addressed the problems I see with relativism, and my main point was to show that there must be absolute truth. However, I in no way attempted to prove that this absolute truth is found in the Bible, the Qur’an, or any other particular holy book. So in this post I intend to discuss the implications of our results concerning Christianity. In particular, I want to address the possibility of absolute truth being found in more than one religion. As I have previously been in the habit of writing overly long introductions, this time I have limited myself for your sake. So let’s dive right in!
I find very often that those who most despise Christianity have met an unfortunate lot of Christians in their times. Sadly, especially in America, it is much easier to meet the “wrong” lot of Christians than the “right” one, so it is not surprising to me at all that one of Christianity’s deepest wounds is self-inflicted. Let me explain what I mean, so as not to come across as some pompous elitist. A very quick internet search tells me that roughly 75% of Americans as of 2004 claimed to be Christian (see, e.g., this website). This seems about right to me, but the exact number is unimportant. The vital fact is that a clear majority of Americans say they are Christians, and in the South, my homeland, I would bet the numbers are even higher. But what do most of them actually mean when they say this? I would claim that a large portion of them do not actually mean that they believe even the central tenet of Christianity, but rather that they believe there is a God, they go to church occasionally for Christmas and Easter, and that they feel like they are basically good people. The reason I believe this is because in my experience, young though I may be, more and more I meet people who claim to be Christians and also say that other religions are just as valid. Even more, not only have I heard rumor of this same sort of doctrine being taught from pulpits, but I could actually give names of a number of large churches who preach these ideas. Some of you may be confused as to why this is a problem and how it relates to people disliking Christianity, so let me explain.
First, to be specific about why many people find Christianity distasteful (in my experience), when someone calls himself a Christian he creates a certain image, which depends on who is listening. But one thing is sure, if that person were to go read what Jesus had to say, they would expect that the Christian at least vaguely upheld the morality taught by Jesus, since that is who the person is claiming to follow. This is a just and right expectation. Unfortunately, many people claiming to be Christian simply do not attempt to live by the standards in which they claim to believe. So, again very justly, many are compelled to view Christians as hypocrites from the onset.
I believe that this problem has strong roots in intellectual sloth. Namely, I think a main cause of the hypocritical-Christian image is the growing belief that you can be a Christian while still acknowledging that other religions could be equally valid; few people seem to think through what this implies, though. Let’s explore the notion.
If you are convinced that Relativism is unacceptable logically, then the next step is to find the truth and to believe it. After all, no one wants to base his life on lies. So let’s say that you choose Christianity for whatever reason, but you are loath to say that your faith is any better than the others. This, I would claim, is in direct violation of itself, just as was Relativism. Christianity has a number of different denominations and sects, but fundamentally, all forms of Christianity revolve around Jesus (Christ-ianity). So if you don’t believe what he said, you cannot be considered his follower and therefore cannot be considered a Christian.
So what does he say? Jesus says in John 14:6, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” That is pretty absolutist if you ask me. Not only does he say he is the only way to God, he actually claims to be truth, and not just some truth, THE truth, truth embodied. So if you say you are a Christian, that is, a follower of Christ, you must accept that central point. If you don’t accept it, you simply are not a Christian, for as the name implies, being a Christian means following Christ, which obviously first requires belief in what Christ said. Likewise, if you say you are a Christian and also say that other religions are equally valid, what you are really saying is that you have not made up your mind. This is because to be a Christian means accepting Jesus’ teaching and his teaching makes it clear that no other religion will do. So you simply cannot be Christian and accept that other religion’s lead to God or to ultimate truth. And in my opinion, it is always better to be honest with yourself than to beat around the bush and merely confuse other people about what the word “Christian” means.
Now, some of you may be thinking that you don’t give a rat’s uncle about what I just said. And that is fine if you don’t claim to be a Christian. Indeed, if you are an atheist, or anything else, I think it is much nobler to say what you are and mean it than to say you are a Christian and not mean it. Titles mean nothing unless they are founded on some reality that matters. What I am trying to get across is that being a Christian is completely incompatible with pluralism, that is, the belief that (ultimate) truth is found in all or many religions. While I do believe there are elements of truth in most religions, as a Christian, if I really believe what I imply that I believe (and I do), then I must reject that other religions hold ultimate truth. For the basis of Christianity is that Jesus is the sole way to ultimate truth, to God, and no other religion is in accordance with this principle. And just like relativism, pluralism is self-refuting because it accepts all religions as equally valid in searching for truth, but Christianity, as one of its central tenets, requires exclusivity. Therefore pluralism must reject Christianity, and that obviously doesn’t work.
In summary therefore, to be a Christian is to forsake pluralism and to accept pluralism is to forsake Christianity. To do otherwise is to be completely confused as to what Christianity requires and to likely mislead others as to what Christianity requires. And since accepting pluralism requires forsaking Christianity, pluralism is nonsense.
So we have narrowed down the field a little bit I hope. I have attempted to show that relativism and pluralism are essentially the same animal, and that animal is constantly devouring itself. The main points I hope you have gleaned are that there really must be some form of absolute truth and that it is illogical to say all religions are equally correct or good at revealing that truth. I have not shown that Christianity must be better than the rest, however, and I doubt I will be able to do that very well any time soon, as I am still young, learning, and woefully under-read. But I hope you see, dear reader, that if there is truth and all ideas for finding that truth are unable to be equally good, then it is necessary that we make a decision. Relativism and pluralism are just fancy ways to procrastinate.
PS – being that this article is already long, I did not address a semi-common analogy for pluralism regarding an elephant and blindfolded religious founders – if you are familiar with this analogy and find it convincing, I will address it given your request; otherwise I will leave it until it merits discussion.
I find very often that those who most despise Christianity have met an unfortunate lot of Christians in their times. Sadly, especially in America, it is much easier to meet the “wrong” lot of Christians than the “right” one, so it is not surprising to me at all that one of Christianity’s deepest wounds is self-inflicted. Let me explain what I mean, so as not to come across as some pompous elitist. A very quick internet search tells me that roughly 75% of Americans as of 2004 claimed to be Christian (see, e.g., this website). This seems about right to me, but the exact number is unimportant. The vital fact is that a clear majority of Americans say they are Christians, and in the South, my homeland, I would bet the numbers are even higher. But what do most of them actually mean when they say this? I would claim that a large portion of them do not actually mean that they believe even the central tenet of Christianity, but rather that they believe there is a God, they go to church occasionally for Christmas and Easter, and that they feel like they are basically good people. The reason I believe this is because in my experience, young though I may be, more and more I meet people who claim to be Christians and also say that other religions are just as valid. Even more, not only have I heard rumor of this same sort of doctrine being taught from pulpits, but I could actually give names of a number of large churches who preach these ideas. Some of you may be confused as to why this is a problem and how it relates to people disliking Christianity, so let me explain.
First, to be specific about why many people find Christianity distasteful (in my experience), when someone calls himself a Christian he creates a certain image, which depends on who is listening. But one thing is sure, if that person were to go read what Jesus had to say, they would expect that the Christian at least vaguely upheld the morality taught by Jesus, since that is who the person is claiming to follow. This is a just and right expectation. Unfortunately, many people claiming to be Christian simply do not attempt to live by the standards in which they claim to believe. So, again very justly, many are compelled to view Christians as hypocrites from the onset.
I believe that this problem has strong roots in intellectual sloth. Namely, I think a main cause of the hypocritical-Christian image is the growing belief that you can be a Christian while still acknowledging that other religions could be equally valid; few people seem to think through what this implies, though. Let’s explore the notion.
If you are convinced that Relativism is unacceptable logically, then the next step is to find the truth and to believe it. After all, no one wants to base his life on lies. So let’s say that you choose Christianity for whatever reason, but you are loath to say that your faith is any better than the others. This, I would claim, is in direct violation of itself, just as was Relativism. Christianity has a number of different denominations and sects, but fundamentally, all forms of Christianity revolve around Jesus (Christ-ianity). So if you don’t believe what he said, you cannot be considered his follower and therefore cannot be considered a Christian.
So what does he say? Jesus says in John 14:6, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” That is pretty absolutist if you ask me. Not only does he say he is the only way to God, he actually claims to be truth, and not just some truth, THE truth, truth embodied. So if you say you are a Christian, that is, a follower of Christ, you must accept that central point. If you don’t accept it, you simply are not a Christian, for as the name implies, being a Christian means following Christ, which obviously first requires belief in what Christ said. Likewise, if you say you are a Christian and also say that other religions are equally valid, what you are really saying is that you have not made up your mind. This is because to be a Christian means accepting Jesus’ teaching and his teaching makes it clear that no other religion will do. So you simply cannot be Christian and accept that other religion’s lead to God or to ultimate truth. And in my opinion, it is always better to be honest with yourself than to beat around the bush and merely confuse other people about what the word “Christian” means.
Now, some of you may be thinking that you don’t give a rat’s uncle about what I just said. And that is fine if you don’t claim to be a Christian. Indeed, if you are an atheist, or anything else, I think it is much nobler to say what you are and mean it than to say you are a Christian and not mean it. Titles mean nothing unless they are founded on some reality that matters. What I am trying to get across is that being a Christian is completely incompatible with pluralism, that is, the belief that (ultimate) truth is found in all or many religions. While I do believe there are elements of truth in most religions, as a Christian, if I really believe what I imply that I believe (and I do), then I must reject that other religions hold ultimate truth. For the basis of Christianity is that Jesus is the sole way to ultimate truth, to God, and no other religion is in accordance with this principle. And just like relativism, pluralism is self-refuting because it accepts all religions as equally valid in searching for truth, but Christianity, as one of its central tenets, requires exclusivity. Therefore pluralism must reject Christianity, and that obviously doesn’t work.
In summary therefore, to be a Christian is to forsake pluralism and to accept pluralism is to forsake Christianity. To do otherwise is to be completely confused as to what Christianity requires and to likely mislead others as to what Christianity requires. And since accepting pluralism requires forsaking Christianity, pluralism is nonsense.
So we have narrowed down the field a little bit I hope. I have attempted to show that relativism and pluralism are essentially the same animal, and that animal is constantly devouring itself. The main points I hope you have gleaned are that there really must be some form of absolute truth and that it is illogical to say all religions are equally correct or good at revealing that truth. I have not shown that Christianity must be better than the rest, however, and I doubt I will be able to do that very well any time soon, as I am still young, learning, and woefully under-read. But I hope you see, dear reader, that if there is truth and all ideas for finding that truth are unable to be equally good, then it is necessary that we make a decision. Relativism and pluralism are just fancy ways to procrastinate.
PS – being that this article is already long, I did not address a semi-common analogy for pluralism regarding an elephant and blindfolded religious founders – if you are familiar with this analogy and find it convincing, I will address it given your request; otherwise I will leave it until it merits discussion.
Why I am not a moral relativist
This summer I read more history than I normally do (specifically, A World Lit Only By Fire by William Manchester, portions of The Story of Civilization by Will and Ariel Durant, and portions of Black Lamb and Grey Falcon by Rebecca West, all excellent reads), and these all stressed the repetition of history, how if we were better students of the past, we would often have much better foresight and wisdom concerning the present and future. Likewise, in the realm of thought, generation after generation struggles through many of the same issues as those who came before. It can be frustrating and a bit depressing if you enjoy tackling controversial issues. In reading or just puttering around thinking (as I am wont to do) I have many times arrived at the answer to some problem that had long perplexed me. In excitement I run and tell somebody, generally my wife or (prior) someone else in my family or both. Sometimes I’m shot down right there: “Oh yeah, I’ve come to that conclusion myself.” Other times I go through the rest of the day pleased about my new result only to see the same result much more concisely worded in whatever book I am reading that evening, written by someone long dead. Indeed, this pastime is itself a repetitive history that I should acknowledge.
So now I am trying to do just that. I bring up the issue, one, because it is interesting, and two because it directly applies to the subject I am about to address. I have finally admitted that any ideas I can think of have already been thought of, at least, in the realm of thoughts that matter. In fact, on the issue of relativism, the first contrary argument goes all the way back to Plato more than 2000 years ago. But as the general public does not often read Plato, every generation needs people to restate the same old ideas in the same old way. (It would be foolhardy to think that, though most ideas are old, my particular expression of them is wildly new and exciting.) Thus, all I undertake in the next few blogs is to restate some old ideas in the hope that some people may read this who have not encountered the ideas before.
So let’s begin, shall we?
According to the OED (Oxford English Dictionary), ethical (or moral) relativism is defined as follows:
“the view that there are no universal or objective ethical standards; that each culture develops the ethical standards that it finds acceptable and that these cannot be judged by the ethical standards of another culture”
Relativism is particularly popular today as a manifestation of tolerance and political correctness. These are all well and good if they are meant to have people treat each other with dignity and respect. They are no different, in essence, from the Golden Rule. However, in the popular mind these ideas seem to have been conflated with the notion that just because everyone deserves respect, that everyone’s ideas are just as good as everyone else’s. This is obviously flawed, even disregarding ethical questions. If someone holds it to be true that 2+2=5, his idea of truth is simply untrue. We who know that 2+2=4 should still treat him with dignity and respect, but we should also strive to show him what is objectively true. This problem arises because we try to take principles from one area of human life (how to treat one another) and apply them to unrelated areas (defining the nature of truth). Another example is taking the scientific theory of evolution and applying it to philosophical topics like the meaning of life. Given that we have already seen evolution misapplied with Herbert Spencer’s ideas of Social Darwinism, which led to eugenics, we should really know better than to repeat our mistakes. So both logic and history show us that we should not so quickly apply our ideas of tolerance to our understanding of truth.
Now let’s apply the same thought process to ethics. If everyone’s ideas are equally valid, then we must admit that Hitler, Stalin, Milosevic, and Ceausescu were all justified in their deeds, so long as they thought their actions were fine. However even if these few had truly evil intentions and knew their actions were morally wrong, what about the average German soldier in WWII? If any of them were deceived by Hitler’s rhetoric and actually believed extermination of the Jews and gypsies and many others was good for humanity, then under relativism, the soldiers who carried out the extermination were not culpable. They believed it as truth that their race was superior, and therefore they exterminated the Jews. It was truth for them, so how could it be wrong? This, of course, would not sit well with many people, and perhaps the relativist would counter that in times of war, situations are so extreme and moral problems so vague, that relativism is unjustly debunked through them. Though this is false, I will offer other arguments instead.
So let’s consider moral relativism from another perspective. Personally, I find the argument for self-refutation the most convincing. As I referred to earlier, this argument is originally credited to Plato (from Theaetetus), though many have reapplied it over the years. Self-refutation just means that relativism is inherently contradictory, and that is what I try to depict in the following discussion.
For the sake of illustration let’s look at a brief discussion very similar to many I have had with friends of mine who are moral relativists:
Me – “I believe there is such a thing as absolute truth, that there are truths objectively true, regardless of upbringing, culture, or anything else.”
Relativist – “I disagree. All truth is relative to culture, upbringing, and individual experience. No one person can say his conception of truth is better than anyone else’s conception of truth.”
So the Relativist says all truth is relative to a set of things, and they could be anything. The point is that there is some framework for each individual and truth is only relative to that framework. But, as Plato pointed out, if what the Relativist says is TRUE, then he has asserted that there is at least one statement that is absolutely true relative to all frameworks. That is, the whole notion of relativism relies on the absolute truth of the statement uttered by the Relativist. If his statement is not true, obviously he cannot believe in his own theory. However, if his theory is correct then he has proved himself wrong, for he just stated that nothing has to be true relative to all frameworks.
Another way of thinking about it is that according to the Relativist, my statement about absolute truth is just as valid as his statement. He thinks that all frameworks are just as good as every other, but it is impossible for my framework to be on equal footing with his. Either there is absolute truth or there isn’t. Both of us cannot be correct at the same time. This, however, is a problem because according to the Relativist, it is not only possible but also essential that both he and I are equally correct. Therefore, since both of our claims cannot be simultaneously true, although his claim demands it be so, his claim contradicts itself and must therefore be false.
Most relativists are likely to reply that there must be an exception for their prime thesis, but if we make an exception here, why should we not make other exceptions? Making this one exception takes all solidity out of the argument and lets the whole philosophy morph into whatever it wills. In order for a philosophy to be coherent, we mustn’t make exceptions about its primal notion. Obviously, no exception needs to be made for the absolutist’s theory because it does not try, as a matter of thesis, to describe what is absolutely true; it simply says that there is absolute truth, and this does not contradict itself.
Well, although I intended to address some other issues, I believe this post is long enough. In closing, my entire argument can be summed up in one pithy statement by some British philosopher whose name I don’t recall:
“If someone tells you there is no such thing as truth, he’s asking you not to believe him, so don’t.”
So now I am trying to do just that. I bring up the issue, one, because it is interesting, and two because it directly applies to the subject I am about to address. I have finally admitted that any ideas I can think of have already been thought of, at least, in the realm of thoughts that matter. In fact, on the issue of relativism, the first contrary argument goes all the way back to Plato more than 2000 years ago. But as the general public does not often read Plato, every generation needs people to restate the same old ideas in the same old way. (It would be foolhardy to think that, though most ideas are old, my particular expression of them is wildly new and exciting.) Thus, all I undertake in the next few blogs is to restate some old ideas in the hope that some people may read this who have not encountered the ideas before.
So let’s begin, shall we?
According to the OED (Oxford English Dictionary), ethical (or moral) relativism is defined as follows:
“the view that there are no universal or objective ethical standards; that each culture develops the ethical standards that it finds acceptable and that these cannot be judged by the ethical standards of another culture”
Relativism is particularly popular today as a manifestation of tolerance and political correctness. These are all well and good if they are meant to have people treat each other with dignity and respect. They are no different, in essence, from the Golden Rule. However, in the popular mind these ideas seem to have been conflated with the notion that just because everyone deserves respect, that everyone’s ideas are just as good as everyone else’s. This is obviously flawed, even disregarding ethical questions. If someone holds it to be true that 2+2=5, his idea of truth is simply untrue. We who know that 2+2=4 should still treat him with dignity and respect, but we should also strive to show him what is objectively true. This problem arises because we try to take principles from one area of human life (how to treat one another) and apply them to unrelated areas (defining the nature of truth). Another example is taking the scientific theory of evolution and applying it to philosophical topics like the meaning of life. Given that we have already seen evolution misapplied with Herbert Spencer’s ideas of Social Darwinism, which led to eugenics, we should really know better than to repeat our mistakes. So both logic and history show us that we should not so quickly apply our ideas of tolerance to our understanding of truth.
Now let’s apply the same thought process to ethics. If everyone’s ideas are equally valid, then we must admit that Hitler, Stalin, Milosevic, and Ceausescu were all justified in their deeds, so long as they thought their actions were fine. However even if these few had truly evil intentions and knew their actions were morally wrong, what about the average German soldier in WWII? If any of them were deceived by Hitler’s rhetoric and actually believed extermination of the Jews and gypsies and many others was good for humanity, then under relativism, the soldiers who carried out the extermination were not culpable. They believed it as truth that their race was superior, and therefore they exterminated the Jews. It was truth for them, so how could it be wrong? This, of course, would not sit well with many people, and perhaps the relativist would counter that in times of war, situations are so extreme and moral problems so vague, that relativism is unjustly debunked through them. Though this is false, I will offer other arguments instead.
So let’s consider moral relativism from another perspective. Personally, I find the argument for self-refutation the most convincing. As I referred to earlier, this argument is originally credited to Plato (from Theaetetus), though many have reapplied it over the years. Self-refutation just means that relativism is inherently contradictory, and that is what I try to depict in the following discussion.
For the sake of illustration let’s look at a brief discussion very similar to many I have had with friends of mine who are moral relativists:
Me – “I believe there is such a thing as absolute truth, that there are truths objectively true, regardless of upbringing, culture, or anything else.”
Relativist – “I disagree. All truth is relative to culture, upbringing, and individual experience. No one person can say his conception of truth is better than anyone else’s conception of truth.”
So the Relativist says all truth is relative to a set of things, and they could be anything. The point is that there is some framework for each individual and truth is only relative to that framework. But, as Plato pointed out, if what the Relativist says is TRUE, then he has asserted that there is at least one statement that is absolutely true relative to all frameworks. That is, the whole notion of relativism relies on the absolute truth of the statement uttered by the Relativist. If his statement is not true, obviously he cannot believe in his own theory. However, if his theory is correct then he has proved himself wrong, for he just stated that nothing has to be true relative to all frameworks.
Another way of thinking about it is that according to the Relativist, my statement about absolute truth is just as valid as his statement. He thinks that all frameworks are just as good as every other, but it is impossible for my framework to be on equal footing with his. Either there is absolute truth or there isn’t. Both of us cannot be correct at the same time. This, however, is a problem because according to the Relativist, it is not only possible but also essential that both he and I are equally correct. Therefore, since both of our claims cannot be simultaneously true, although his claim demands it be so, his claim contradicts itself and must therefore be false.
Most relativists are likely to reply that there must be an exception for their prime thesis, but if we make an exception here, why should we not make other exceptions? Making this one exception takes all solidity out of the argument and lets the whole philosophy morph into whatever it wills. In order for a philosophy to be coherent, we mustn’t make exceptions about its primal notion. Obviously, no exception needs to be made for the absolutist’s theory because it does not try, as a matter of thesis, to describe what is absolutely true; it simply says that there is absolute truth, and this does not contradict itself.
Well, although I intended to address some other issues, I believe this post is long enough. In closing, my entire argument can be summed up in one pithy statement by some British philosopher whose name I don’t recall:
“If someone tells you there is no such thing as truth, he’s asking you not to believe him, so don’t.”
Introduction
I think it is impossible for anyone living in Oxford to completely ignore the vast amounts of philosophizing that occurs here. Personally, I am encountered with philosophical issues nearly every day, though I admit I seek them out. But people here sincerely seem to be looking for truth and wisdom. I think this is fantastic, though I often disagree with friends on how to execute this search.
I'm sure most of my readers know that I am religious, but I do like to think I at least have some sort of logical backing for much of what I believe. True, Christianity absolutely requires faith at some point, and faith requires belief in things unseen, unable to be experimentally verified. According to the Bible, faith is the essential element that we accept. Faith, however, is not ignorant acceptance of something. Faith is based on reason. I will address this later.
However, I have found that many of the problems people have with Christianity do not relate to faith at all. Within the church I have encountered all sorts of theological issues that simply do require faith, or at least, that I have never heard explained in a logically complete manner. But most people subscribing to other (or no) faiths don't seem to care much about these issues. That's because those intra-church issues hardly ever make a difference to the main tenants of Christianity. Although many people would vehemently disagree with me, I don't even think the polarizing topics of evolution or abortion make any sort of eternal difference. For evolution especially, I don't think it is outside of the realm of possibility that God used such a process to create the world and mankind. Nor does it have any impact on whether or not God loves us if he exists. Many like Richard Dawkins have morphed evolution into a philosophical system that implies everything is cold; God is impossible because evolution controls all outcomes by chance. But even just in the past month, I have read or heard at least five different philosophers, some Christian, some profoundly not, who all shake their heads and chuckle at Dawkins' inability to reason. For those who doubt, check out Being Good, by Simon Blackburn, who also wrote the Very Short Introduction to Ethics. Even as an obvious anti-theist, he points out how terrifically flawed are Dawkins' philosophical inferrences. As a side note, I might mention that the strictly seven-day interpretation of Genesis is actually a rather new development. Even St. Augustine urges Christians to be willing to alter their views of the Creation account as new information becomes available, and he himself did not believe in a seven-day creation (see On the Literal Meaning of Genesis, St. Augustine). You can draw your own conclusions from that.
In any case, what I'm trying to say is that many topics vigorously debated among Christians are not even on the radar of others when it comes to why they don't believe in God or the Bible. Faith is not an intellectual problem for many. Sure, they may not want to put their faith in the Christian God, but that does not mean faith is a troublesome thing for them. They often have completely separate issues, for instance the belief that truth is relative, which is a very common belief, that have convinced them that Christianity is flawed. Indeed, topics like evolution and abortion often get in the way of discussing the principle tenants of why Christianity makes sense, thereby allowing the essential faith. (This does not mean I find the topics uninteresting as many of you know.) However, I have found that most of the problems people have with Christianity can be logically reasoned through and are often found wanting. So instead of focusing on whether evolution is true or whether women should be free to have an abortion, issues that almost everyone has very strong opinions on, over the course of the next few days or weeks (who knows really, this Oxford place is sort of demanding of time), I intend to address a number of issues related to a very common problem my friends have with Christianity, or organized religion in general, namely, that they believe in relativism and Christianity is blatantly absolutist. If it is indeed true that all religions are equally good, that all opinions are equally good, that truth is defined by individuals and societies, then Christianity is indeed flawed. I believe, though, that relativism is logically untenable, and I intend to convince you, reader, that that is the case. Meanwhile I will address related issues that have often come up in the same conversation, including political leanings, church and state, and others.
I do not intend this as proselytizing, but rather as reasoning through difficult topics that happen to relate to what I believe. Thereby, I hope to prove that my faith is not based on threadbare thoughts and ignorant dismissal of other opinions, but that it is rather quite reasonable and logical. For I would never want to give the impression that I am a stubborn fool, unwilling to recognize my own faults when my logic fails. I hope I can show that.
You may ask why I didn't just write out my opinions right now, thinking I could have already addressed the topic in the time it took to write this introduction. Well, I did actually start writing the main body, and I realized it would be too long as one post. So instead, I will post a few things in the weeks to come that will hopefully cover all the bases. I may intersperse with other blogs in the meantime if I get bored with the topic (or if it is evident that you do). If you have questions or believe you have found holes in my argument, do point them out, as I am always eager to improve my reasoning. Or if you do not share my religious beliefs and I do not address your qualms with Christianity, I urge you to challenge me with those thoughts. Perhaps we will all learn something new or consider something we had never considered before. That would be excellent.
I'm sure most of my readers know that I am religious, but I do like to think I at least have some sort of logical backing for much of what I believe. True, Christianity absolutely requires faith at some point, and faith requires belief in things unseen, unable to be experimentally verified. According to the Bible, faith is the essential element that we accept. Faith, however, is not ignorant acceptance of something. Faith is based on reason. I will address this later.
However, I have found that many of the problems people have with Christianity do not relate to faith at all. Within the church I have encountered all sorts of theological issues that simply do require faith, or at least, that I have never heard explained in a logically complete manner. But most people subscribing to other (or no) faiths don't seem to care much about these issues. That's because those intra-church issues hardly ever make a difference to the main tenants of Christianity. Although many people would vehemently disagree with me, I don't even think the polarizing topics of evolution or abortion make any sort of eternal difference. For evolution especially, I don't think it is outside of the realm of possibility that God used such a process to create the world and mankind. Nor does it have any impact on whether or not God loves us if he exists. Many like Richard Dawkins have morphed evolution into a philosophical system that implies everything is cold; God is impossible because evolution controls all outcomes by chance. But even just in the past month, I have read or heard at least five different philosophers, some Christian, some profoundly not, who all shake their heads and chuckle at Dawkins' inability to reason. For those who doubt, check out Being Good, by Simon Blackburn, who also wrote the Very Short Introduction to Ethics. Even as an obvious anti-theist, he points out how terrifically flawed are Dawkins' philosophical inferrences. As a side note, I might mention that the strictly seven-day interpretation of Genesis is actually a rather new development. Even St. Augustine urges Christians to be willing to alter their views of the Creation account as new information becomes available, and he himself did not believe in a seven-day creation (see On the Literal Meaning of Genesis, St. Augustine). You can draw your own conclusions from that.
In any case, what I'm trying to say is that many topics vigorously debated among Christians are not even on the radar of others when it comes to why they don't believe in God or the Bible. Faith is not an intellectual problem for many. Sure, they may not want to put their faith in the Christian God, but that does not mean faith is a troublesome thing for them. They often have completely separate issues, for instance the belief that truth is relative, which is a very common belief, that have convinced them that Christianity is flawed. Indeed, topics like evolution and abortion often get in the way of discussing the principle tenants of why Christianity makes sense, thereby allowing the essential faith. (This does not mean I find the topics uninteresting as many of you know.) However, I have found that most of the problems people have with Christianity can be logically reasoned through and are often found wanting. So instead of focusing on whether evolution is true or whether women should be free to have an abortion, issues that almost everyone has very strong opinions on, over the course of the next few days or weeks (who knows really, this Oxford place is sort of demanding of time), I intend to address a number of issues related to a very common problem my friends have with Christianity, or organized religion in general, namely, that they believe in relativism and Christianity is blatantly absolutist. If it is indeed true that all religions are equally good, that all opinions are equally good, that truth is defined by individuals and societies, then Christianity is indeed flawed. I believe, though, that relativism is logically untenable, and I intend to convince you, reader, that that is the case. Meanwhile I will address related issues that have often come up in the same conversation, including political leanings, church and state, and others.
I do not intend this as proselytizing, but rather as reasoning through difficult topics that happen to relate to what I believe. Thereby, I hope to prove that my faith is not based on threadbare thoughts and ignorant dismissal of other opinions, but that it is rather quite reasonable and logical. For I would never want to give the impression that I am a stubborn fool, unwilling to recognize my own faults when my logic fails. I hope I can show that.
You may ask why I didn't just write out my opinions right now, thinking I could have already addressed the topic in the time it took to write this introduction. Well, I did actually start writing the main body, and I realized it would be too long as one post. So instead, I will post a few things in the weeks to come that will hopefully cover all the bases. I may intersperse with other blogs in the meantime if I get bored with the topic (or if it is evident that you do). If you have questions or believe you have found holes in my argument, do point them out, as I am always eager to improve my reasoning. Or if you do not share my religious beliefs and I do not address your qualms with Christianity, I urge you to challenge me with those thoughts. Perhaps we will all learn something new or consider something we had never considered before. That would be excellent.
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