Zeus’s Thunderbolt, Euthyphro’s Dilemma, and the Eliminative Reduction of Sin

Sin is to morality as Zeus’s thunderbolt is to weather.[i]

That is, Zeus’s thunderbolts do not exist and therefore contribute nothing to our understanding of weather phenomenon. The thesis I’m defending here is that an analogous statement can be made with regards to sin: that is, sin does not exist and contributes nothing to our understanding of morality.

To state it as plainly as possible, even if God exists, there is no such thing as sin.

One who believes in Zeus and his thunderbolts might sincerely believe in their reality without any doubt, might explain the phenomenon of lightning by recourse to Zeus, and might even interpret lightning as a direct experience of Zeus’s will or presence. However, once an adequate understanding of electrical discharge is obtained, Zeus’s thunderbolt ceases to play any literal role in discourse regarding lightning. Zeus might, at best, play a figurative or metaphorical or colloquial role.

Zeus’s thunderbolt provides an apt analogy because it offers an accessible example of what can be referred to as Eliminative Reduction (for example, summarized in Churchland & Churchland, 1992).

An Eliminative Reduction occurs when an understanding of a phenomena or theoretical construct is displaced or improved upon by a more accurate understanding, resulting in the construct in question being not just explained, but being explained away.[ii] Examples from the history of science include élan vital (the energizing, organizing, directing life force), phlogiston (a fire-like substance contained in objects that is released upon combustion), and the luminiferous ether (the medium that fills the universe and through which light “waves” are propagated). Once DNA and natural selection, oxidation, and the wave-particle duality of light were understood, then élan vital, phlogiston, and the luminiferous ether were explained right out of existence. Elan vital, phlogiston, and the luminiferous ether have been eliminated in the same sense that Zeus’s Thunderbolts have been —a more adequate understanding has led to the realization that they simply are not real.

My intention here is not to explicate nor defend the concept of eliminative reduction (as interesting as that would be[iii]), but to give the reader a very general idea. Demons causing mental illness, the motion of the sun around the Earth, and curses causing a pox, were all eschewed once a more complete knowledge of the phenomena in question was obtained. I once believed the big kids when they told me that thunder was the sound of angels rearranging the furniture; however, some things simply cease to be once properly understood.

Likewise, an examination of the concept of sin ought to lead to a similar result in that, under scrutiny, any non-figurative notion of sin ought to evaporate, with an accompanying realization that talk of sin is superfluous to discourse regarding morality.

But first a quick aside…

The LDS Church goes to lengths in order to convince the faithful that there can be no possible legitimate reasons for leaving the fold. Rather than run the risk that believers might seek out for themselves the reasons why ex-believers no longer believe, the Church demonizes former believers by providing the believer with an implicitly exhaustive list of alleged reasons for apostasy.[iv] The faithful are led to believe that in every instance, disaffection is due to a shortcoming on the part of the apostate; if the lesson manuals are to be believed, no example of apostasy can ever reflect poorly upon the Church. The manuals tell the believer that the ex-believer has “fallen into the snares of [Satan],” “follow his dictation,” and is “his servant.” They explain that we leave due to pride, being offended, rationalizing disobedience, and that “…no person ever apostatized, without actual transgression.”

So, defenders of the faith, if you are so inclined, you may read this essay as my little gift to you: I am, I’m sure you will mistakenly interpret, trying to rationalize disobedience and sin and transgression.

You’re welcome.

Back to the question at hand.

In order to make my case, I do not intend to play semantic games and change the meaning of sin into some sort of straw-man redefinition that would be conveniently easy to knock down. I am satisfied to use a non-controversial traditional definition like the one provided by St. Augustine of Hippo that sin is “a word, deed, or desire in opposition to the eternal law of God.”[v]

The LDS Bible Dictionary does not offer a definition of sin, however official LDS websites suggest that sin is “[w]illful disobedience to God’s commandments,”[vi] and explain that “[t]o commit sin is to willfully disobey God's commandments or to fail to act righteously despite a knowledge of the truth (see James 4:17).”[vii]

In other words (and without changing the meaning of the above definitions), for the believer, in the case of at least some acts (hereafter presumed to include thoughts and words, as per Augustine), moral worth of the act is determined by whether or not it is in accordance with divine command. Therefore a sin is an act not that is simply wrong, but is wrong due to the fact that the act in question is in violation of a command of God. Furthermore, the act has to be known by the transgressor to be in opposition to God’s command, and it has to be voluntary.

A concept that is intrinsically linked to the concept of sin is that of Divine Command Theory.[viii] The various formulations of Divine Command Theory share a common core: that the only foundation for ethics is found in God’s command, that God’s will is the ultimate and only source/foundation of morality/virtue/the good. That being the case, morality/virtue/goodness is defined by whether an act is performed in obedience/conformity to divine will, while the bad/evil/sin is defined by being in a volitional defiance to divine will (1^st John 3:4; Romans 7: 12-14).

Given the above definitions, the most straightforward way to make the case that sin does not exist would be to argue that God does not exist. This will not be my approach, however, because I want my argument to be compelling even to the reader who believes that God is real. Many who believe in the existence of God also believe Him to be the source of all morality (i.e. Divine Command Theory), so in the mind of many a believer, no God equals no morality. In the unlikely case that I were to be successful in convincing such a believer that God does not exist, the potential collateral damage would be that I might accidentally convince them that there is no such thing as morality, and such a conclusion is far from my intention.

Instead my approach will be to argue that even if God is real, and even if God has revealed His will, the moral worth of any given act is not determined by whether or not it is in harmony with the will of God. If the morality of an act is not determined by the will of God, then even if an act is morally wrong, it is not a sin, per se, at least not in the literal sense of the above definitions, and consequently, the notion of sin will contribute nothing to our understanding of the morality of the act in question.

My initial approach will be to try to show that most people, including those who believe that sin is real, won’t actually need much convincing. By sharing some anecdotes to draw out existing intuitions, I hope to demonstrate to the reader that they are probably already inclined to accept propositions that are consistent with a rejection of a literal conception of sin.

After drawing out some of the reader’s moral intuitions and making them a little more explicit, we will turn our attention specifically to Divine Command Theory.

Why? Consider how closely conceptually linked sin and divine command are: The definition of sin is an act that is morally wrong because it violates the will of God. Divine Command Theory states that God’s will determines the moral worth of acts. Sin is, therefore, a violation of divine command. Consequently, if it can be shown that Divine Command Theory is false, then sin is not a real thing.

The intuitions explicated will also help the reader understand a philosophical and theological issue referred to as the Euthyphro Dilemma, and will aid the reader in seeing how the Euthyphro Dilemma shows Divine Command Theory false.

Finally, we will consider the question of why the eliminative reduction of sin is worth discussing.

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One afternoon while driving a passenger in my taxi, I passed a park that had a playground perhaps 75 yards from the road, and was about a quarter of a mile around the bend from a school. Because the park was just outside the vicinity of the school and the playground was on the other side of the park, the road by the park qualified as neither a playground zone nor a school zone, and consequently the speed limit on the road was not reduced. My customer and I were passing this park shortly after the nearby school had been dismissed, and as there were children playing near the road, I adjusted my speed accordingly. Within a few moments my customer, slightly annoyed, observed that I must be from out of town. When I asked him why he would presume such an apparently random thing, he said that it was because I had slowed down on that road, and although the stretch of road was not a playground zone, someone unfamiliar with the area might mistake it for one because of the proximity of the playground.

One implication of what my customer had said was that, if he had been in the driver’s seat, he would not have slowed down as he was not legally obligated to do so, regardless of whether there were children nearby. His attitude toward speed zones seemed more than a little myopic, but I was not disposed to try to justify my behavior.[ix] Had I been motivated to explain why we had slowed down, I could have approached the issue by asking him if he knew why the council puts up school and playground zone signs; I might have asked, loosely paraphrasing the question Socrates put to Euthyphro,[x] whether it is good to slow down for the children because the sign says so, or is the sign put there because it is good to slow down for the children. I’ll reiterate that for rhetorical emphasis because at first blush it might appear to be a difference that makes no difference. What is the order of operations regarding the sign? Does the sign come first, and as a result of the sign it is good to slow down near the children? Or is it good to slow down near the children, and therefore the council puts up the sign? Although prima facie it might appear to be little more than an equivocation, the distinction points toward a small but surprisingly useful conceptual lever with which we can accomplish some heavy lifting.

To begin to answer the above question, consider a couple of hypothetical situations related to the speed zone scenario.

First, imagine that you were driving a clear flat stretch of highway, miles away from town, miles away from any playground or school, when you pass what appears to be a randomly placed sign that says that you are entering a school zone, and that the speed limit is reduced. You would likely reflexively slow down even if you didn’t see a school or anything else that might necessitate the reduction, because you might suspect[xi] a speed trap. What if, upon inspection, you found that there was no school or playground? You might be rather annoyed; you might feel like you had slowed down when you did not need to. Why might you find this annoying? In what sense did you “not need to” slow down? It is, I suggest, because your intuition is that if it is right to slow down, it is due to the value of the safety of children, not the value of the sign.

Second, imagine that you are driving past a school with a yard full of children. While approaching the school you notice a big sign that says “SCHOOL ZONE: Speed Limit 90 MPH while passing children.” How do you respond? Do you accelerate to 90? Do you think to yourself that it is suddenly acceptable to drive dangerously fast near children because the sign gives you the legal go-ahead? Or do you recognize that it is morally unacceptable to endanger the children by driving fast near them, and judge the sign to be wrong? No doubt the latter.

These counter examples illustrate that our moral intuitions tell us that the value of the sign is derived from the value of slowing down for the safety of the children, not vice versa. If there are no children, then the sign does not simply justify itself. If there are children, the sign does not justify an increase in the speed limit. If there are no children, then the sign is arbitrary, unjustified, and a little absurd.

How does one answer the question “why are there school/playground zones?”

The answer is self-evidently not “because there are signs.” You could answer that the safety of the children is valuable, and that value is derived from the sign. But there is something clearly absurd about that answer. The fact that when we ask for the reasons for the speed zone we explain by recourse to something prior to it (i.e. the safety of children) indicates that the sign itself is not what makes slowing down a good thing. Slowing down when there are children playing is valuable in and of itself, independent of whether there is a sign. The sign itself does nothing at all to determine the value of slowing down, and adds nothing to the correctness of slowing down for the safety of the children.

One would hope that my customer would understand that the speed limit near playgrounds is reduced for the safety of the children. The safety of the children is first, therefore the sign goes up. Children’s safety is, so to speak, the cause, and the sign indicating the speed reduction is the effect. The safety of the children is prior to the sign designating the speed limit.

When I was a child, my Mother told me to eat my vegetables. It became a habit, and now that I’m an adult I eat vegetables regularly. And coincidentally, my Mother continues to tell me that I should.

Consider the following: does it make sense to ask why my Mother insisted that I eat my veggies? Is the question in any way nonsensical? No, the question is perfectly reasonable because it is easy to propose plausible answers. She wanted me to eat them because they were good for me.

We can again adapt the query that Socrates put to Euthyphro: Was it good to eat my veggies because my Mother told me to? Or did my Mother tell me to because eating veggies is good for me?

Now that I’m an adult I eat my veggies, and although it corresponds with my Mother’s “command,” I do not eat them because she tells me that I have to. Eating veggies is good in and of itself, regardless of my Mother’s will. When I was a child my Mother explained to me why eating veggies was the right thing to do, I internalized that information, and now I do it because I judge that it is the right thing to do. My Mother might still insist that I eat vegetables, but I do so independent of her insistence, because her rule adds nothing to the correctness of eating them. If you ask me, adult to adult, why I eat my vegetables and I answer that it’s because my mother told me I have to, you might think that I am missing the point of healthy eating, that I am somehow immature, and that I might not be capable of making healthy choices on my own.

The reason that the question of why my mother instituted the veggie rule is intelligible is that the rule points to an actual good (healthy eating), and that good remains good whether or not my mother institutes an “eat your vegetables” rule.

What if, hypothetically, my Mother had instituted a rule in our home that required that when tying shoelaces, we had to tie the right shoe before the left? If I asked her why, she might have trouble providing a plausible explanation, and it is hard to imagine any justification better than “because that’s what I want,” or “because only freaks tie the left shoe first,” or “because I’ll punish you if you do it the other way.” Because I was a child my mother was the authority, and I probably would have obediently followed her rule. But as an adult, how likely am I to continue to follow the rule? If, as a mature moral reasoner, I ask myself why I ought to follow the right shoe first rule, I would be at a loss to come up with any reason as to why right first is a good thing. Unlike my Mother’s vegetable rule, the right shoelace first rule does not correspond with any actual good. If I told you that I followed the rule, and did so because my Mother told me to, you might think me a little odd. If the rule does not point to some actual good, it is as arbitrary and absurd as the “school zone” sign where there was no school.

Or what if, instead of veggies, my Mother insisted that we eat icing sugar with every meal? Again, because she was the authority, I would have been constrained to obey. Now that I’m an adult, even if my Mother still tried to insist I follow the icing sugar diet, I would not. As an adult I would recognize the health benefits of limiting my icing sugar intake, and choose to not follow her rule. Even if she insisted, it would not make the diet a healthy choice. The dietary rule receives its force from actual dietary considerations. An actual good determines the rule, the rule does not determine the good. The rule itself cannot justify the behavior.

Just as with the playground zone sign, the correctness of the vegetable eating behavior is the reason for the rule; the rule does not determine, nor add anything to the correctness of the behavior. Just as the safety of the children is independent of and prior to the sign designating the speed limit, the goodness of eating vegetables is independent of and prior to my Mother’s rule.

Our intuitions tell us that the reason or justification for the rule is independent of and prior to the rule itself.

Another anecdote of sorts comes from my days of driving taxi. Knowing my background in psychology and philosophy, a coworker confided that he was giving some serious consideration to converting to Islam. I offered the sorts of advice that you might expect, primarily trying to suggest that he not move too quickly and that he make an informed decision.

My first presumption was that he’d met a Muslim lady, and was trying to pave the road toward a future together. I was wrong on that count. His actual reasons for considering conversion were interesting, but they didn’t tend toward making an informed decision. His reasons were not epistemological—he hadn’t even considered the question of whether the foundational claims of the faith were true or not. He was not awed by the fascinating history, the rich tradition of philosophy, or even most of the teachings of Mohamed—in fact he was hardly even aware of these things.

My colleague had what might charitably be described as a checkered past, and was attracted to the possibility that the strict moral codes espoused by his potential new faith could keep him on the strait and narrow.

This seemed to me to be putting the proverbial cart before the horse. Why, I thought to myself, would one think that the commandments of Islam were virtuous? To be clear, I was not asking why one would think the rules of Islam to be virtuous as opposed to thinking them unvirtuous. What I pondered was how the unbeliever even has the ability to recognize virtue when they see it.

To be able to recognize that the rules of Islam were virtuous, my friend clearly had to already know which acts were and were not virtuous. Had he not already known what acts were virtuous and what acts were not, he would not have had the capacity to look at the moral imperatives of Islam and judge whether or not they represent the good. To judge that a life consistent with Islam was morally superior to the choices of his past requires recognizing the wrongness of past behaviors and the rightness of the religious behaviors.

The fact that he was already in possession of the faculties with which to make the judgment that the religious life embodies virtue indicates that he already knew what is virtuous as opposed to what is not, and that he knew it independent of and prior to finding a religion that corresponded to his moral compass.

Unless he did so in the years since we lost contact, in the end my friend did not convert. But if he had, he would have converted because Islam corresponded with what he already believed to be the good, with his already functioning internal moral compass. He might have ended up following the dictates of the faith, and might even have believed he was doing so because the good behavior was part of his new faith. This would not erase the fact that he already knew, prior to converting, what was virtuous and good, and what was not. Otherwise it would have been impossible for him to make that judgment.

Furthermore, if he already knew the good, then adding external moral constraints (commandments) would quite simply be telling him to act as he already knew he ought to. It would be imposing an unnecessary redundancy in between his internal moral sensibilities and his behavior.

Consider the following analogy. You are hungry, and your friend prepares some good food and kindly gives it to you. What should you do? The right thing to do is to eat it. You know it, and you intend to do it. But then your friend adds “Eat it. Eat it, or I’ll kick you in the shin.” Because you already intend to do the right thing and eat the food, the instruction to eat and the threat of punishment are superfluous to your decision, and add precisely nothing to the rightness of eating the food. Similarly, where there was already a direct link between my coworker’s internal moral code and his behavior, adopting a religious moral code bypasses that direct link through an unnecessary externalized step.

To generalize from the example of my co-worker, it seems common that adherents to the various religions presume that one of their strongest selling points is their version of the Divine Command Theory of morality. Many of us have been on the receiving end of conversations in which a friend or family member tries to convince us that morality is impossible without belief in God. Religious persons are quick to tout the commandments of God as something that ought to attract the unbeliever to the religious life, with the implication that the unbeliever accepts that the divine command is moral itself, and is a necessary condition for morality. But the religious person does not stop to ask as to why the unbeliever would accept the moral principles of their faith, or even how it is possible for the unbeliever to perceive that the dictates of God’s will are virtuous.

The believer might try to assert that divine command is the source of all morality, but their language and actions indicate that they believe otherwise. The very fact that that the believer accepts that the unbeliever is capable of recognizing the good in the divine command requires that the believer concede that the unbeliever already knows the good. If this is the case, it follows that the believer (albeit perhaps implicitly) believes it is possible to know the good independent of knowing God’s will. The language of the believer toward the unbeliever betrays the probability that if the believer were to closely examine and unpack their beliefs, they already recognize that Divine Command is not required in order to know the good, and that morality can exist independent of knowledge of God and His will. It is an irony lost on many a believer, but the very attempt to convince the unbeliever that morality is impossible without God is indicative that the believer implicitly does not believe it himself.

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In Plato’s Euthyphro[xii], Socrates, on his way to court for a preliminary hearing regarding a possible trial for charges including impiety, is distracted by Euthyphro who is bringing a charge of murder against his own father for accidentally killing a family servant by tying him up and forgetting about him.

Euthyphro, it seems, has a reputation as a bit of an eccentric when it comes to matters of religion, telling Socrates “…I will, if you wish, relate many other things about the gods which I know will amaze you.”

The charge that he is bringing against his father is not actually legally permissible, as only family members of the victim are able to bring such a charge under Athenian law. Yet Euthyphro is confident that his case is different due to what he thinks is his superior knowledge in regards to piety: “For, they say, it is impious for a son to prosecute his father for murder. But their ideas of the divine attitude to piety and impiety are wrong, Socrates.”

Socrates, in a tone of ironic flattery that is missed by Euthyphro, engages him by saying, in essence, “You are confident enough to charge your own father? What knowledge you must have of piety! Perhaps if I could learn from your expertise, it would be useful in my forthcoming trial for impiety.”

Euthyphro attempts a pair of possible definitions of piety, and Socrates dismisses them by pointing out flaws. Then Euthyphro arrives at his 3^rd definition (paraphrased): “That which is loved by all the Gods is pious, and that which is hated by all the Gods is impious.”

To which Socrates famously replies "Is the pious loved by the gods because it is pious? Or is it pious because it is loved by the gods?"

For the sake of the 21^st century (western, monotheistic) reader, the question can be updated, without changing the meaning, as follows: Does God approve of an act because it is virtuous, or is an act virtuous because God says it is?

If it is the former, then the virtuousness of the act is somehow inherent in the act (or the intentions of the actor, or the consequences of the act…) and is separate from God’s approval of it. If the latter, virtue is bestowed upon the act by God’s approval of it; the act is not virtuous in and of itself, and obtains its status as virtuous only upon receipt of God’s endorsement.

It is this question that has inspired what is known in philosophy and theology as the Euthyphro Dilemma. If God gives commands with regards to virtue, then one of the following must be true:

(i)                 The virtue of an act is something that is known to God, and therefore God says that it is virtuous, or

(ii)               An act is virtuous because God says it is virtuous.

The Euthyphro Dilemma arises because, upon consideration, both of the above options prove to be quite antithetical to Divine Command Theory.

The first horn of the dilemma indicates that there are moral facts that hold true independent of God’s fiat, that there are acts that are virtuous or unvirtuous prior to and independent of God’s say so. The problem that this poses for Divine Command Theory is sometimes referred to as The Independence Problem. The core of Divine Command Theory is that the moral worth of an act is supposed to be wholly dependent upon the will of God, but assent to the first horn of the dilemma compels one to accept that the morality of an act is not defined by God’s will, but is prior to and independent of it.

Why is this a problem for the believer?

The average theist[xiii] believes in an omnipotent and omniscient God, sovereign over everything, creator of everything. If the first horn of the dilemma is accepted, this implies limitations on God in that He did not create morality, that He is not sovereign over morality, and that His will is restricted by an external constraint (moral facts and principles).

Perhaps most damaging in the mind of many a true believer is that if God is not the wellspring of morality, then it is possible to be moral without even so much as an inkling that God might be a thing.

The first horn of the dilemma means that God is not an Omni-God, so to speak, and is irrelevant to morality.

If the first horn of the dilemma is unacceptable to the believer in divine command, ought we instead assent to the second option, as would Luther[xiv] or Calvin[xv]?

The second horn fares no better than the first. Acceptance of the notion that the morality of an act is determined entirely by the will of God leads to (amongst other things) the interrelated issues of the arbitrariness problem and the problem of abhorrent commands.

To illustrate the arbitrariness problem, ask yourself why God commands us, for example, to not kill. As you ponder that question, also ask yourself if the question is meaningless. Or like the question of why your mother insists that you eat vegetables, if the question is intelligible. Of course, you answer, it is intelligible. It is easy for you to come up with a perfectly reasonable list of answers. You have the capacity to explain why God forbids killing. God forbids us to kill because killing causes suffering, because we have a duty to avoid causing suffering, because not killing brings about more good than does killing, because chaos would reign if killing were the norm, because maybe killing is a violation of human nature, because, perhaps, killing is wrong in and of itself, and would be regardless of whether or not God forbade it…

However, if the second horn of the dilemma is correct, then the reasons listed above are irrelevant, and are not the reason that God has for forbidding killing. If they were His reasons, it would mean that God is influenced by ethical considerations and moral facts that could alter His commands, and we would have fallen back upon the first (unacceptable) horn.

And you can ask the same question for any of God’s commands. Why does God forbid lying? Why does God forbid stealing? Why does God forbid adultery? Etc, etc. Can you explain why? Can you posit a plausible list of reasons for God’s commands? If you can explain why God commands or forbids these things, it means that God’s will is not the determinant of the morality of those acts, and the second horn of Euthyphro’s dilemma is false.

According to the second alternative, God does not (cannot) dictate according to any of these reasons, or for that matter, of any reasons at all. If Gods dictates are independent of any reasons, then they are arbitrary. If an act is not moral until God wills it so, then it would be impossible for there to be moral facts to inform God’s will, and God’s commands would be derived in a moral vacuum. This is precisely what the second horn says. Were it not so, if there were moral facts that informed God’s rule making, then those facts would exist independent of and prior to God’s will, and we would find ourselves once again impaled upon the first horn of the dilemma.

According to the second horn, because there is no standard of morality independent of the will of God, virtue is simply whatever God says that it is. The problem inherent in this arbitrariness can be illuminated by considering the further problem of abhorrent commands. If the definition of virtue is that virtue is simply whatever God commands, then whatever God commands is virtuous. Therefore, if God commanded the opposite of what He has, it would still, by definition, be virtuous. If God were to command rape, murder, child abuse, torture, slavery, or genocide[xvi], these things would, by definition, be virtuous.

William of Ockham[xvii] was a believer in the notion that the will of God is the only source of morality, and went so far as to assert that were God to command it, it would be virtuous to hate God.

There is something peculiar about suggesting that hating God, lying, murder, stealing, etc would be virtuous simply because God says it is. However, this necessarily follows from the second horn of the Euthyphro Dilemma. If the virtuousness of an act is determined, not by some moral principle or some intrinsic worth of the act, but because of the will of God and nothing else, then the inescapable corollary is you have to accept that stealing, rape, murder, and any other arbitrary act, would be virtuous if that’s what God had said.

Like my friend who contemplated converting to Islam for the purposes of sticking to the strait and narrow, you and I know, independent of any knowledge of God and His will, that child abuse, genocide, murder, etc., are not morally permissible. Such acts would continue to be unvirtuous even if archeologists discovered a manuscript advocating those things, and signed by the good Lord Himself.

Because it is absurd to accept that hating God, genocide, rape, and murder would be virtuous had God so willed it, we are compelled to reject the second horn of the Euthyphro Dilemma as simply nonsensical.

To reiterate:

Sin is real if and only if Divine Command Theory is true.

If Divine Command Theory is correct, then one of the following statements is correct:

(i)                 The virtue of an act is something that is known to God, therefore God says it is virtuous, or

(ii)               An act is virtuous because God says it is virtuous.

We are compelled to reject (i) because it means that God is not infinite and is irrelevant to morality.

We are compelled to reject (ii) because it leads to an absurd conclusion (that morality is random, and immoral acts would be moral had God so commanded).

If both (i) and (ii) are false, then Divine Command Theory is false.

Both (i) and (ii) are false.

Divine Command Theory is false.

Sin is not real.

Q.E.D.[xviii]

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The majority of those who read this essay are going to be LDS, or at minimum have a association and familiarity with Mormon culture and theology. And no doubt one or two such readers will have noted that there are possible responses to the horns of the Euthyphro dilemma that are relatively unique to the LDS theology.

The common quarrel with the first horn of the Euthyphro dilemma is that if God says that an act is virtuous because it is virtuous independent of His say so, then that means that goodness exists independent of His will, was not created by Him, and constrains His will. The concern for many is that if there is a realm (morality) that is independent of and prior to God, it means that God is not the infinite creator (in that He did not create morality), is not infinitely good (goodness is something that He is simply in possession of), and is not infinitely powerful (He is constrained by ethical considerations).

While a conclusion of the non-infiniteness of God is likely to be unpalatable to many a believer in the God of classical theism or of more traditional versions of Christianity, the LDS reader ought to be quite open to the idea because in many ways, the God of LDS theology is not an infinite being.

I’ll repeat that.

The LDS God is not infinite.

In what sense is the LDS God not infinite?

As early as 1839 (D&C 121: 26-28), the Prophet Joseph was entertaining the possibility of a plurality of Gods, and seemed to fully embrace the notion by 1842 when he published the creation account found in Chapters 4 and 5 the Book of Abraham, which refers to plural Gods some 45 times.

Consider the famous statement from Lorenzo Snow, “As man now is, God once was; As God now is, man may be.” It is clear that President Snow interpreted this famous couplet as a revelation from God:

…the Spirit of the Lord rested mightily upon me—the eyes of my understanding were opened, and I saw as clear as the sun at noonday, with wonder and astonishment, the pathway of God and man. I formed the following couplet which expresses the revelation, as it was shown me… “As man now is, God once was; As God now is, man may be.” I felt this to be a sacred communication, which I related to no one except my sister Eliza, until I reached England, when in a confidential private conversation with President Brigham Young, in Manchester, I related to him this extraordinary manifestation.” [xix]

There was a time, according to President Snow, when our God was not God, but existed as a mortal man.

According to his son[xx], in 1843 Snow reported this revelation to the Prophet Joseph, who replied “that is a true gospel doctrine, and it is a revelation from God to you.”

The following April (1844) Joseph Smith[xxi] explicated what President Snow had summarized so pithily:

God himself was once as we are now, and is an exalted Man, and sits enthroned in yonder heavens. That is the great secret... …I am going to tell you how God came to be God. We have imagined and supposed that God was God from all eternity. I will refute that idea, and take away the veil, so that you may see. … It is the first principle of the Gospel to know for a certainty the Character of God, and to know that we may converse with him as one man converses with another, and that he was once a man like us; yea, that God himself, the Father of us all, dwelt on an earth.... Here, then, is eternal life - to know the only wise and true God; and you have got to learn how to be Gods yourselves, and to be kings and priests to God, the same as all Gods have done before you...

And June of that same year, Smith elaborated further, revealing that he had learned this doctrine from his translation of the writings of Abraham, and that God the father has a father:[xxii]

I want to reason a little on this subject [that God himself has a father]. I learned it by translating the [Book of Abraham] papyrus that is now in my house. I learned a testimony concerning Abraham, and he reasoned concerning the God of heaven . . . If Abraham reasoned thus — If Jesus Christ was the Son of God, and John discovered that God the Father of Jesus Christ had a Father, you may suppose that He had a Father also.

One might infer from such a statement if God had a Father, then that Father also had a Father, and that, in the words of Fairmormon[xxiii] “the "Heavenly Grandfather" would likewise have needed to undergo a mortal experience under the patronage of yet another divine Father, and so on.” This implied infinite regress[xxiv] is further described by our apologist brethren at Fairmormon as “seemingly the dominant [position] in LDS thought.”

If God started to be God at some point in the past[xxv] then He is not a temporally infinite being. His existence may appear “infinite from man’s point of view”[xxvi]. But infinity, by definition, has no start date.

He would also not be infinite in sovereignty. As one of a number of Gods, He cannot be absolutely sovereign over a realm that another God is ostensibly absolutely sovereign over. As one link in a chain of Gods, our God cannot be sovereign over the realms of those who came before Him, nor of those of us who will yet learn to be Gods in the future.

In the words of Joseph Smith, God had to learn to be God: “You have got to learn to be Gods yourselves, and to be kings and priests to God, the same as all Gods have done before you, namely by going from one small degree to another…”[xxvii] Having achieved Godhood, He cannot be described as omnipotent nor omniscient as His power and knowledge are contingent upon obedience and a learning process.

Not only did the LDS God start being God at some point in the past, but, according to some interpretations (including the most straight forward reading) of Alma 42, God could actually stop being God (Alma 42: 13, 22, 25), indicating that He is subject to some external constraints.

In sum, according to the dominant view in LDS theology, God is not infinite in power, sovereignty, or knowledge.

If one is willing to accept that God is not infinite, then one ought to be willing to accept that rather than virtue/morality/goodness emanating solely from the will of God, His morality was learned from a source outside of Him (His Father-God), and is constrained by moral principles. A morality that is not derived from the will of God cannot be a threat to God’s infinity if God is not infinite. Furthermore, there is scriptural authority for the view that God is constrained by moral considerations found in D&C 82:10, and in Alma 42.

Now let’s bring this all back to the first horn of the Euthyphro dilemma and the discussion of sin. The first horn holds that because the virtue of an act is something that is known to God, God says that it is virtuous, which means that virtue is not dependent upon God’s will. For those who believe that God is infinite, this is unacceptable because if God is not the author of morality, He cannot be an infinite creator because there exists something (morality/virtue/moral principles) not created by Him.

If, on the other hand, God is not infinite, as per the dominant view in LDS theology, then morality/virtue is something learned by God. If that is the case, then the goodness or badness of an act, including any act commanded or forbidden by Him, is not derived from His will.

So whereas the believer in an infinite God is lead to reject the first horn of the Euthyphro Dilemma because acceptance of it implies a limited God who is not necessary for morality, the believer in the non-infinite (relatively infinite?) God of LDS theology ought not be threatened by the notion of a limited God, and has scriptural and prophetic authority for accepting that God is constrained by authority and principles not of His making.

Either way, the virtue of an act is not determined by the will of God. If that is the case, then even if an act is a violation of the will of God, its wrongness is not determined His will, and is not, by definition, a sin.

The relatively unique response to the second horn of the Euthyphro dilemma is, I suppose, less unique to Mormonism than is the non-infinity of God. It seems that there is a tendency to agree with William of Ockham and John Calvin that anything commanded by God, including that which might be prima facie abhorrent, is good and moral simply by virtue of the fact that that God has commanded it.

First, take under your consideration a letter[xxviii] written by the Prophet Joseph, in which he proposes to Nancy Rigdon (daughter of his friend and counsellor Sidney Rigdon) that she become his secret polygamous wife:

That which is wrong under one circumstance, may be, and often is, right under another…Whatever God requires is right, no matter what it is, although we may not see the reason thereof till long after the events transpire…

[E]ven things which might be considered abominable to all who understand the order of heaven only in part…in reality were right because God gave and sanctioned by special revelation…

A parent may whip a child, and justly, too, because he stole an apple; whereas if the child had asked for the apple, and the parent had given it, the child would have eaten it with a better appetite…This principle will justly apply to all of God’s dealings with His children. Everything that God gives us is lawful and right.

The maxim “obedience is the first law of heaven” has been in use in the LDS Church since at least 1873[xxix], and seems to have been popularized by McConkie:[xxx] “Obedience is the first law of heaven, the cornerstone upon which all righteousness and progression rest. It consists in compliance with divine law, in conformity to the mind and will of Deity, in complete subjection to God and his commands.”

The notion that obedience is the first law of heaven is an oft repeated theme in discourse from Church leaders and in lesson manuals[xxxi]. Although there might be multiple ways to interpret this, it appears to be saying that being obedience takes priority over other moral principles and moral intuitions. Multiple treatments of this principle by the General Authorities[xxxii] of the Church discuss Nephi’s killing of Laban (in 1^st Nephi 4), an act which is prima facie abhorrent, but is (allegedly) right because it is commanded by the Lord.

There is a widely held belief in the Church that the prophet cannot, in words of Wilford Woodruff,[xxxiii] lead the Church astray, and consequently, if the prophet tells you to do something that is wrong, or that appears wrong, according to Marion G. Romney[xxxiv], you are to do it anyway:

I remember years ago when I was a bishop I had President Heber J. Grant talk to our ward. After the meeting I drove him home … Standing by me, he put his arm over my shoulder and said: ‘My boy, you always keep your eye on the President of the Church and if he ever tells you to do anything, and it is wrong, and you do it, the Lord will bless you for it.’

In the minds of many LDS, the privileging of obedience over other moral considerations ought to solve the problems of arbitrariness and abhorrent commands, thus circumventing the conclusions of the second horn of the Euthyphro dilemma Euthyphro dilemma.

All that I will say at this point is that I utterly reject obedience as a moral principle, and that a large percentage of the second half of this essay is intended to show why.

_______________________________________________________________________

It is worth pausing at this point in order to avoid confusion and emphasize what I have not said. Nowhere have I tried to argue that there is no such thing as morality, or ethics, or virtue, or goodness, nor have I tried to deny that there can be acts that are immoral, unethical, or wrong under some description. It is far from my intention to imply that there are no standards of morality to which we ought to adhere.

The case that I have tried to put forth is that even if there is a God, and even if there is morality, God’s will and morality are not linked, the moral worth of acts is not determined by the will of God, and those acts would continue to be virtuous or unvirtuous regardless of what God might have to say about them.

Religious persons have, on occasion, been heard trying to convince others that knowledge of God’s will is a necessary condition for morality.[xxxv] But as suggested by the case of my coworker who considered converting to Islam, the very fact that believers fully expect non-believers to recognize the moral superiority and necessity of an ethics derived from religion reveals that the believer implicitly acknowledges that the non-believer already knows the good. Otherwise, how could they recognize it in the religion? The religious implicitly agree that it is possible to know the good prior to having any knowledge of the will of God.

So in the absence of knowledge of God, where does such knowledge come from? What determines the morality or immorality of acts if not an eternal lawgiver?

My students were sometimes unsettled when initially confronted with the possibility that God is irrelevant to morality and that it is possible to know the good without knowing the divine will. One fairly common reaction was to speculate that both of these issues could be resolved by the suggestion that if God designed human beings, maybe He designed us with an innate/intrinsic/hardwired moral sensibility[xxxvi].

If God exists, is good, and designed us, I don’t think that it’s an unreasonable stretch to presume that He would design us with the capacity for morality. Although none of my students ever cited it, there is scriptural authority for such an assertion: Moroni 7: 16 states that “the Spirit of Christ is given to every man, that he may know good from evil[.]”

However, rather than offering a solution to the problems that it was intended to resolve, if anything, this strengthens the case for negating the necessity for knowledge of the will of God. Part of the definition of sin was that the act in question is performed in willful disobedience of, and despite a knowledge of the truth. If God designed us with built in morality, but did not design us with built in knowledge of His existence, then He designed us with a morality that cannot be contingent on knowledge of His will. Consequently, any act perceived to wrong by the actor due to an innate morality (even if placed there by God’s design), is not a sin, per se, according to the definition that requires that the act be known by the wrongdoer to be contrary to the will of God.

If God designed us with a functional moral compass, then adding commandments telling us to do what we already know that we ought to do adds a redundant external step. If God designed us with the capacity to be moral, He designed us with a direct line from internal morality to behavior. Adding commandments redirects that formerly direct route outside of the individual. It overrides our built-in-by-God internal locus of control, and replaces it with an external locus of control. If God designed us with the disposition to be moral, then giving commandments requires us to not act according to our God given innate morality, but instead act in accord to an external authority.

Consider the human capacity to perceive the truths of mathematics and logic.

We can quite clearly comprehend the proposition that two times any whole number is an even number. Once you understand the meaning of the terms, you know that that proposition is necessarily true. Is it true because someone decided to make every case of doubling a whole number turn out to be an even number? Is it true because someone asserted that it is true? Or is it true independent of anybody’s assertions?

Or if you read that everything that is an A is also a B, and everything that is a B is also a C, what can determine about the relationship between A and C? You know everything that is an A is also a C. And it just is. It did not require somebody to assert that it is that way. Once the terms are understood, reason informs us that that rule is necessarily true.

If God designed us, He did so with the faculties to perceive the sort of mathematical and logical abstractions as described above. But ask yourself—does this imply that the “laws” of mathematics and logic were decided upon in the same sense that the village council decides upon a school zone speed limit? Or are they just true, independent of any need for a lawgiver to decide that they are true? Can you imagine that during the creation, God had to put two and two together and weigh His options to decide what the correct answer was going to be?

There are aspects of reality that make the “laws” of mathematics and logic true independent of any lawgiver. Therefore, even if God designed us with the capacity to perceive them, that fact does not imply that His will determines the truth of math and logic. That God designed us with the ability to comprehend a certain something does not imply that God’s will determines the truth of that something.

So even if God designed mankind with the faculties with which to determine goodness and morality, that fact still does not necessitate God’s will being the determining factor in determining what is virtuous and what is not.

I am reminded of a famous passage from Galileo Galilee[xxxvii] in his 1615 Letter to the Grand Duchess Christina: “I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with senses, reason, and intellect has intended us to forgo their use and by some other means to give us knowledge which we can attain by them.”

While it might be reasonable to presume that God would design us with a propensity for morality, I find it unreasonable to accept God would design us in such a way that we can be sophisticated moral beings, but then would judge us harshly for not rejecting this design and only accepting a childish obedience based morality in its stead. If God exists, I have to think more highly of Him.

I’m willing to accept that if God designed us, He designed us with a capacity for morality. He designed us with empathy, sympathy, and reason, making it possible to comprehend duty and obligation, to foresee consequences, to calculate suffering vs. pleasure, and to balance personal needs with the needs of the collective.

There are clearly sources of morality other than divine command. Great thinkers have derived systems of morality—Kant, Aristotle, Bentham and Mill—all without presuming that the system of morality is dependent upon God’s will. We can include in this list the most important Christian theologian after St. Paul—St. Thomas Aquinas. He adapted Aristotelian Natural Law into Christian theology. But, and this is the essential point, the source of morality was derived from nature (maybe nature as God designed it, but nature nonetheless).

Which brings us to the question of why this piece is referring to an eliminative reduction of sin.

First, consider again the Euthyphro Dilemma. When divine command is reduced to its possible interpretations (God knows about virtue, and so approves of it, or virtue is determined by Gods approval of acts), it shows divine command theory to be false, thus eliminating sin.

Second, consider once again the big question of why? Why does the council erect playground zone signs? Why does my mother insist I eat vegetables? The fact that we can answer these why questions means that it is not the authority of the speed zone sign or my mother’s rule that is the defining factor in the correctness of the related behaviors. Why does God say to not kill? To not steal? To not lie? To have charity? To love one another? To answer such a question is to reduce a divine command to something else—to a duty, to an act of empathy, to a calculation of utility, to a natural law, etc. In that reduction, you have made the divine command superfluous in determining the moral status of an act. If the stealing, lying, etc. has been shown to be wrong in and of itself, independent of God’s will, then even if God and morality both exist, Divine Command Theory is still false, and, like Zeus’s thunderbolt, sin has been explained right out of existence.

Why is this important?

There are certain things that attract people to the religious life, things that those involved in religion will identify as the reasons that keep them committed to a life of faith.[xxxviii]

First, there are the answers to the big questions like the ultimate nature of reality, the true nature of self, the purpose of life, and the question of life after death.

Second, there is a sense of place. By “place” I mean a number of things. Religion tells us that we are not insignificant in a potentially infinite and random universe. It tells us where we are on our eternal journey. It offers a home and extended family in congregations. It provides milestones by which we check off our progress through life’s journey. Under this heading of “place” I will also include a relationship with the divine, although it could fit equally well in the category of “answers to the big questions.”

Third, there is source of knowing that is not applicable to the non-religious. Faith offers an assurance that the things we believe are accurate.

Fourth, there is a moral code. We need to know God’s will in order to know the good. We are told, ad nauseam, that commandments are required in order for us to be virtuous, and it is commonly held that in the absence of a threat of punishment, anything goes (e.g. Alma 42: 17-21)

And fifth, perhaps most importantly, there is a hope of salvation. The world in which we live seems corrupt, and we are all sinners who are unworthy to be rewarded with an eternity in the presence of God in heaven, and risk an eternity of separation from God (or worse, of being set on fire by our heavenly father, with never even a possibility of that fire being extinguished—but this does not apply to LDS theology).

In the interest of full disclosure, this author rejects almost all of these reasons for religiosity. If I’m being honest, the extended family of my childhood congregation was wonderful, and I miss that aspect of my religious upbringing. But that is all.

If the above five reasons can be dismissed, then the power and hold that religion has over individuals is diminished, if not eliminated.

To answer the question of why it is important to understand the eliminative reduction of sin, one need only recognize that sin is a necessary condition for two of the above five holds that religion has over the believer.

The more obvious of the two is the question of the need for religion to provide one’s moral code. If I have made my case in this piece, then I have shown that the divine command is irrelevant to the moral code, and that sin is illusory. When properly understood, God’s will and any attendant talk of sin is irrelevant to morality, and one’s moral compass ought to be fully functional without reference to God’s will, whether because of evolved predispositions or God’s design, and our ability to empathize, calculate, foresee, and judge. You don’t need religion to be a good person.

The eliminative reduction of sin is also significant when it comes to the question of the need for salvation. To see why, we need to pinpoint what it is that we need to be saved from. That is a straightforward question with an equally straightforward answer. We need to be saved from two things: the effects of the fall, and the effects of sin[xxxix]. I won’t address the fall here except to say that acceptance of the fall of Adam and Eve as a literal event is part of Young Earth Creationism, and I don’t think Young Earth Creationism is even plausible enough to warrant enough effort to type out a dismissal. In this author’s ever so humble opinion, the best interpretations on the Genesis account are purely figurative. And I can’t speak for everybody, but I don’t need to be saved from a metaphor.

Churches also teach us that we need to be saved from the effects our individual sins. However, according to the Divine Command perspective, the duties and intentions of the individual, the consequences of actions, and the intrinsic goodness or badness of actions are not the factors that determine the moral status of behaviors. Commandments from God are a necessary condition to make an act righteous or sinful (Alma 42: 17). If actions are not sins in the absence of commandments, then the person who has not heard of commandments, or believes the wrong set of commandments, or has no reason to believe that commandments are actually from God, literally cannot sin. That person may violate laws, duties, conscience, etc., but without belief in commandments, those actions are not, by definition, sins. Consequently, such persons do not need to be saved from their “sins.”

If sins literally don’t exist, then somebody who chooses to continue in the faith is going to have to re-evaluate what, if anything, salvation means to them. Or, like many, the believer could conclude that if sin does not exist, there is no need to be saved from sin…and one of the key holds that religion has on a person just slips away.

The eliminative reduction of sin significantly diminishes (or even erases) two of the reasons that religion maintains a hold over believers.

One more potential objection can be addressed before we wrap this up. When confronted with the eliminative reduction of sin, the believer might counter with “What’s the harm if I choose to follow God anyway, and trust that in His infinite wisdom He knows what we need and knows what is best for us?”

“What’s the harm?” A fair question indeed.

First, if God is a “Heavenly Father” then the divine command mode of heavenly parenting amounts to some very poor judgment by Him.

If a parent catches a child lying, on one hand she could teach the child why lying is wrong, or on the other hand, she could tell the child “you are a liar” and punish the child. To a child, a parent is the ultimate authority, and if a parent tells a child “you are a liar” or “you are a bad kid” the child is going to believe that they are bad. If instead of teaching a child what the good behavior is, the parent decides to punish the bad behavior away, then the child will learn that the moral worth of behavior is determined by whether they are punished or not. The child will internalize what their parent tells them. If a parent tells a child that they are “bad” or “a liar” or “untrustworthy” then it should be no surprise to a parent if that child believes the parent, and their behavior reflects the parents’ expectations.

What, according to many a religion, is our Heavenly Father telling us about ourselves? That we are inherently sinners (Romans 3:23). That we are broken and flawed. That “none is good except God” (Mark 10: 18; Luke 18:19). That we are naturally “enemies of God” (Mosiah 3:19). That we are incapable of ascertaining morality on our own, and need to be told the correct behavior by our heavenly parent. Religion convinces that we are inherently bad, and incapable of being good without the fear punishment (Alma 42).

Just the other day, following a relatively interesting and intelligent conversation about whether green tea is a sin, a coworker said that he believed that without the Word of Wisdom (the LDS code of dietary laws, very loosely based on D&C 89) he would be a drug addict. He had never ventured further than the odd beer when he was a teenager, then put in a two year mission[xl], temple married, is a father, and is currently working on a Master’s Degree in Psychology. He is as stable as the day is long, yet 30 years of immersion in the moral environment of the LDS faith has convinced him that he would be incapable of not abusing drugs without the guidance of the Church to tell him not to.

I have had more than one student in my office, sometimes in tears, saying something like “I have concluded that the LDS Church is not what it claims and have decided to leave it, but the Church was my source of morality, and now I feel like I literally do not know what is right and wrong.” These are young adults I’m talking about. This is not hyperbole for the sake of effect, but is an accurate paraphrase of multiple panic stricken pleas for guidance. Growing up in the Church convinced these young adults that they are not capable of an internal moral code, and are dependent upon the external code imposed by the Church. When the Church lost its sway over them, that externally supplied code of morality dissolved, and so did the only moral guide that these young people had ever relied upon.

Typically, a child moves away from these obedience/punishment/reward stages of morality before they hit the double digits, but because God ostensibly requires individuals to cede their internal locus of moral control and their moral development to external checklist of good behavior[xli] (Did I pay tithing? Am I dressed modestly? Did I pay tithing? Did I drink coffee…?), religious persons may potentially never move past the childhood stages of moral development[xlii] to the more mature stages in which the worth of acts is no longer determined by authority and punishment, but by an internalization of the moral environment (family, school, church, community) in which we are steeped. So someone who, as an adult, rejects the Church, and with it the Church’s moral authority, abruptly finds themselves trying to develop an internal moral compass that ought to have developed during childhood. They find themselves trying to navigate a moral landscape in which they have to resolve questions about food choices, alcohol, correct dress, sexual activity, etc., which for a normal healthy adult would not present an issue because they were confronted during adolescence while the moral compass was being internalized.

I recall that when I was quite young, perhaps four years old, some of the other boys and I made fun of an obese Sister at Church. My mother saw a teachable moment, and instead of punishing me, she had a discussion with me in which she helped me to imagine what it would be like to be the recipient of that kind of treatment. She could have punished me. But she didn’t and she was right to not do so. The research literature[xliii] is fairly consistent in finding that punishment does not teach a child correct behavior, but motivates a child to avoid punishment. Had she punished me, the likely outcome would not have been that I would have been more thoughtful about the feelings of others, but that I would have been extra vigilant about not teasing obese ladies when my mother was in earshot. As it was, I was able to empathize with that sister, and realize that my behavior was hurtful, and therefore wrong, independent of whether my mother forbade teasing obese sisters, and independent of whether I would have been punished for doing so.

This is an example of induction, and is an important aspect of the kind of parenting practiced by authoritative as opposed authoritarian parents. Authoritative parents explain why an act is good or bad, encouraging a child to reason through processes (considering consequences, duties, empathy, calculations of happiness v. suffering) that lead them to arrive at good moral conclusions. Those raised in an inductive family environment learn the skills they need to reason through future ethical challenges. Authoritarian parenting, on the other hand, does not move a child away from an obedience type of morality. The authoritarian parent simply dictates the rules (often without exemplifying the desired behavior—“do as I say, not as I do.”) and the child is expected to comply because the rules are the rules and violation means punishment. For a person raised in an authoritarian environment, good and correct behavior does not flow from an internalized moral capacity, but from a desire to avoid the punitive consequences from the authoritarian parent. Without the ability to reason through moral issues, someone from the authoritarian home is less equipped to face future unique ethical dilemmas[xliv]. In other words, even if the parent believes they are acting entirely in good faith for the betterment of the child by enforcing strict rules with strict consequences, the stricter the rules and the harsher the punishments, the more likely the child is to rebel, and the more likely to make decisions that are contrary to what the parents tried to enforce[xlv].

On literally every measure, those who grow up in authoritative (inductive) homes outperform those who grow up in authoritarian (obedience and punishment) homes, whether it’s psychological health[xlvi], grades and school success[xlvii], or a healthy relationship with parents[xlviii]. Those who grow up in authoritarian (obedience, punishment) homes suffer in academic performance[xlix]; an authoritarian punitive style of discipline is linked with stress and depression[l], substance abuse[li], delinquency[lii], bullying[liii] and future marital violence[liv]. There may not be many (any?) absolutes in the social sciences, but the superiority of authoritative to authoritarian parenting is, by every standard, as close to a universal as you will find[lv].

So, in sum, the first answer to “what’s the harm” in following Heavenly Father’s divine command obedience/punishment style of parenting is that it is precisely the sort of authoritarian parenting that leads to poor outcomes on every possible measure.

A second answer to the “what’s the harm” question is epistemological[lvi] in nature. The believer is determined to follow God’s command to the best of their ability. However, there are different versions of what that list of commands ought to consist of. An LDS list is different than a Roman Catholic list, and they will be still further different than a Muslim list. Each religion and category of religion is going to differ in their description of what constitutes the correct list of divine commands.

To accept divine command as one’s source of morality is to agree that there is not sufficient reason to choose moral actions without God’s commands and threatened punishments. And if one accepts that salvation is in part dependent on acting in accordance with God’s will, it is absolutely essential to be following the correct set of rules. To object and says that “no, there is good in every religion so it doesn’t matter which one you follow,” is to suggest that false and man-made religions have stumbled into a set of moral rules similar to the correct one revealed from God. How could that even be possible? The implication is that these moral principles must arise independent of God’s revealing them. If they arise in the absence of God’s revelation, these codes must be good and virtuous independent of God’s willing them to be. Consequently, to say that there is good in every religion is to fall back upon the first horn of the Euthyphro dilemma and to remove the relevance of God’s will to morality.

At this point I’m going to introduce a mostly undefended premiss. It is an argument that is too large to fit into this already lengthy piece, but will be developed at some later time. It is this:

To believe on faith is to voluntarily surrender the ability to adjudicate between conflicting claims. Very briefly, faith is the idea that it is acceptable/desirable/virtuous to assent to unjustified and unjustifiable propositions. But it is in the justification of a proposition that one finds the wherewithal to adjudicate between incompatible claims. All justifications for religious belief are either circular or question begging. However, if God exists, He designed us in such a way that every culture spontaneously generates religion. And He designed us in such a way that we have a tendency to justify our religiosity by recourse to faith. And He decided to reveal one true religion. And according to His design, because we justify our religiosity by faith, it is impossible to judge between competing sets of unjustifiable beliefs in order to settle on which is the correct religion. And He intends to judge us according to whether we follow the moral directives of that correct religion. And an eternity of reward or punishment rests on whether we act according to the correct set of beliefs.

Alternatively, if God didn’t establish just one true religion or category of religions, or if one concedes that there is good in all religions, then Divine Command Theory is indistinguishable from the moral relativism that persons of faith are so quick to disparage. If there are multiple religions and categories of religion, each with an equally legitimate claim (i.e. faith), then their incommensurate moral standards are all equally acceptable. What’s right/wrong for me as a Mormon is incompatible with what’s right or wrong for you as a Muslim, yet the claims to the correct interpretation of divine will are all equally (un)justifiable in that they all rest upon faith.

So my second answer to “what’s the harm” is that God judging us according to whether we follow the correct set of rules when, by His design, it is literally impossible to ascertain which is the correct set, is profoundly unjust and immoral.[lvii]

A third answer to “what’s the harm” is the problem of externalization of responsibility for moral or immoral actions.

Let’s say that you have in some way harmed my family. Let’s keep it simple—you stole from me. After some time, you realize that you harmed me, and did so because you violated the 7^th Commandment[lviii]. You might feel the need to make it right with God, because you have contravened His will. So to make it right, you could make amends to me, or confess/pray for forgiveness, or both. If the wrongness of the action is in the action itself (violation of law, of duties, causing harm, causing suffering), then including God in the process is unnecessary. The harm was to me and my family, so that’s where the efforts at reparation ought to be directed. If God’s will did not determine the immorality of the act, then once reparations are made, no further steps are necessary; if you have my forgiveness, you don’t need God’s. If you try to earn God’s forgiveness for harm you have caused me, I’d suggest that you have entirely missed the point of what the wrongness of stealing entails. If you confess/pray and think that all is forgiven, then you are, in actuality, causing further offence to me, by making amends without making any amends at all.

What if, on the other hand, you have done something nice for my family? Again keeping it simple, let’s say that you heard that I was unwell and you mowed my lawn. I might think to myself “what a good person.” But if I later discovered that you mowed my lawn because you expected that I would be likely to reciprocate and buy you a pizza, I might then be less inclined to judge you a good person. In the week prior to writing this, as it happens, I mowed my neighbor’s lawn. I didn’t tell them I was going to, and I don’t think they know it was me. It was simply an act of kindness, and I expect nothing in return. Somehow though, if I believed that by mowing my neighbor’s lawn I was laying up treasures in heaven, so to speak, then my act would amount less to kindness, and more to self-interest. If two people perform exactly the same act of alleged kindness, but one does it strictly out of charity, while one does it in the expectation of reward, the person acting in hope of reward is less kind and moral than the person expecting no reward.

I was lecturing on Divine Command Theory in class one day, and I threw out what I presumed to be a softball question for the purposes of making a point. “Let’s say that we agree that God says to not beat your wife. Is the fact that God forbids it the thing that makes wife beating immoral?” In unison, a sizeable portion of the class said no. But revealingly, not all said no. About three guys (all LDS), and one girl (not LDS but raised in a very conservative religion) answered yes. I was slightly taken aback, so I asked for some elaboration. One young (married) man said that God is the source of all morality, therefore without directives from God, there is no moral standard, and without the threat of punishment, he had no reason to not beat his wife. Yes, he said that. Out loud.

This illustrates a third harm in following divine command as a source of morality. If one has no internal standard of morality, but operates according to obedience out of fear of punishment, can that person really be said to be a moral person at all?

I don’t beat my kids. As tempting as it might be sometimes, I have a duty to them, I have empathy with them, I would feel guilt if I did so. If my only motivation was avoidance of reprisal, I would not be non-abusive out a duty to them, but for fear of being found out. I would not be acting out of compassion for them, but out of a selfish self-preservation. If my morality was based on divine command, and I succumbed to the temptation to beat the kids, instead of feeling the appropriate internally sourced guilt for my actions, in its place I would feel an externally sourced shame that somebody (God) knows what I did and is likely to punish me for it.

If a sincere believer tells you that his reason for not murdering, for not raping, or for not molesting children rested solely on God’s command and fear of punishment, you would be right to judge that person amoral. If you tell me that your only reason for not beating your wife is fear of punishment, then you are telling me that you have no internal moral standard that tells you that it is wrong, or why it is wrong. If you had that internal moral standard, then God’s command is irrelevant to the issue (First Horn again). If you can seriously tell me that if you have no fear of punishment in the afterlife then anything goes, if you can look me in the eye and tell me that in the absence of fear of the consequences, you have no internal reason to not molest children, then you are at best amoral, and frankly, morally inferior to the person who does not need to be told not to molest children.[lix]

In Conclusion

There may be a God. I’m honestly inclined to think that there’s not, but I’m open to the idea. However, if He exists, I will not assent to being judged according to whether I was obedient to His will, because, as Socrates’ masterful line of questioning to Euthyphro illustrates, God’s will is irrelevant to morality. And in addition to being irrelevant, an externally imposed “divine command” runs the risk of generating amoral individuals.

Morality is difficult, complex, messy, and even contradictory, but talk of “sin” is doesn’t solve the difficulties, and is about as relevant to the discourse on morality as Zeus’s Thunderbolt is to our understanding of the weather.

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[i] I would like to take credit for coming up with idea of using Zeus’s Thunderbolts as an analogy to illustrate eliminative reduction, but that honor belongs to Conman (Conman, J. (1968). On the elimination of ‘Sensations’ and Sensations. Review of Metaphysics, Vol. XXII, 190-229.) beat me to it by 50 years.

[ii] Not all reductions are eliminative (Churchland, P. M., & Churchland, P. S. (1992). Intertheoretic Reduction: A Neuroscientist’s Field. Neurophilosophy and Alzheimer’s Disease. Research and Perspectives in Alzheimer’s Disease (Fondation Ipsen) (pp. 18-29). Berlin, Heidelberg: Springer ).That is, just because something is explained at a more basic level, it doesn’t normally mean that it doesn’t exist. Heat can be reduced to mean molecular motion, and light to waves of electromagnetic radiation with a particular range, but that doesn’t mean that heat and light are eliminated.

[iii] Well…to me anyway.

[iv] Teachings of the Presidents of the Church: Joseph Smith, Chapter 27; Teachings of the Presidents of the Church: Brigham Young, Chapter 12.

[v] https://www.encyclopedia.com/religion/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/sin-theology

[vi] https://www.lds.org/scriptures/gs/sin

[vii] https://www.lds.org/topics/sin?lang=eng

[viii] There are plenty of places to find definitions of Divine Command Theory. For example: https://www.iep.utm.edu/divine-c/, http://www.philosophyofreligion.info/christian-ethics/divine-command-theory/, and http://www.blackwellreference.com/public/tocnode?id=g9781405106795_chunk_g97814051067955_ss1-129

[ix] Repeated frustrating experience suggests that philosophical or academic discussions with taxi customers are rarely productive.

[x] Plato, Euthyphro, Plato. Plato in Twelve Volumes, Vol. 1 translated by Harold North Fowler; Introduction by W.R.M. Lamb. Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann Ltd. 1966. 1925.

[xi] A previous draft called it a “Dukes of Hazardesque Speed Trap,” but then I reconsidered and thought that tacking “-esque” onto the end of “The Dukes of Hazard” might be humorous to no-one but myself.

[xii] Plato, Euthyphro, Plato. Plato in Twelve Volumes, Vol. 1 translated by Harold North Fowler; Introduction by W.R.M. Lamb. Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann Ltd. 1966. 1925.

[xiii] …average “western” theist. This argument is really directed as western monotheistic conceptions of God

[xiv] Luther, Martin (1525). On the Bondage of the Will. "…for [God's] will there is no cause or reason that can be laid down as a rule or measure for it"

[xv] Calvin, John (1536). Institutes of the Christian Religion. “…everything which [God] wills must be held to be righteous by the mere fact of his willing it."

[xvi] *cough* old testament *cough*

[xvii] William of Ockham. Reportata 4.16

[xviii] There have been attempts to respond to the Euthyphro Dilemma. When I evaluate these answers objectively I find them unpersuasive. This piece is long enough already, so I will not consider possible responses to the paradox. I encourage the interested reader to look up such responses, and I am confident the reader will find the responses lacking. This post is intended to be a draft of a chapter of a book. If the book ever comes to fruition, the chapter will also include criticisms to the Euthyphro Dilemma, and responses to those criticisms.

[xix] Eliza R. Snow, Biography and Family Record of Lorenzo Snow, Salt Lake City: Deseret News Co., 1884, pp.46-47

[xx] LeRoi C. Snow, Improvement Era, June 1919, p. 656., found in “I Have a Question” in The Ensign, November, 1982. https://www.lds.org/ensign/1982/02/i-have-a-question/is-president-snows-statement-as-man-now-is-god-once-was-as-god-now-is-man-may-be-accepted-as-official-doctrine?lang=eng

[xxi] Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, sel. Joseph Fielding Smith, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1938, pp. 345–46.

[xxii] History of the Church, 7 vols., 2nd ed. (Salt Lake City: Deseret News, 1950), 6:473-479.

[xxiii]https://www.fairmormon.org/answers/Mormonism_and_the_nature_of_God/Infinite_regress_of_Gods#Question:Is_it_true_that_Mormon_doctrine_teaches_a_.22genealogy_of_gods.2C.22_in_which_God_the_Father_had.2Fhas_a_god.2C_and_this_god_had_a_god.2C_and_so_forth.3F

[xxiv] I suppose that one may speculate that the regress need not be infinite, that at the beginning of the chain there was a naturally occurring race that learned for themselves to be Gods and thus started the process…

[xxv] Perhaps 2, 555,000,000 years ago…? W.W. Phelps claims that this number was learned by the Prophet Joseph while translating the same papyri that contained the Book of Abraham, and the account is accepted by no less a theologian than Bruce R. McKonkie: “We have an authentic account, which can be accepted as true, that life has been going on in this system for almost 2,555,000,000 years.” Bruce R. McConkie, The Mortal Messiah: From Bethlehem to Calvary, 1: 29.

[xxvi] Bruce R. McConkie, The Mortal Messiah: From Bethlehem to Calvary, 1: 29.

[xxvii] Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, sel. Joseph Fielding Smith, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1938, p. 346

[xxviii] Manuscript History of the Church 5:134–136. The source of this letter is John C. Bennett, who became a critic of the Church. No original copy exists. So although commonly accepted as authentic, there is a possibility that it was fabricated or modified by Bennett.

[xxix] Joseph F. Smith in Journal of Discourses, Volume 16, p.: 248

[xxx] Bruce R. McConkie, Mormon Doctrine, 2nd edition, (Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1966), p. 539

[xxxi] For example: https://speeches.byu.edu/talks/jeffrey-r-holland_will-father/; https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2013/04/obedience-brings-blessings?lang=eng; https://www.lds.org/ensign/2008/01/obedience-the-first-law-of-heaven?lang=eng; https://www.lds.org/general-conference/1994/04/live-in-obedience?lang=eng; https://www.lds.org/general-conference/1973/10/obedience?lang=eng; https://www.lds.org/manual/doctrines-of-the-gospel-student-manual/17-obedience?lang=eng; http://www2.byui.edu/Speeches/Bednar_Jan2004.htm; https://www.thechurchnews.com/archive/1990-06-16/living-the-first-law-of-heaven-3246; Ezra Taft Benson, Mission Presidents’ Seminar, 21 June 1988; see Teachings of Ezra Taft Benson (Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1988), p. 26.

[xxxii] For example: https://www.lds.org/ensign/2008/01/obedience-the-first-law-of-heaven?lang=eng; https://speeches.byu.edu/talks/jeffrey-r-holland_will-father/.

[xxxiii] The Discourses of Wilford Woodruff, pp. 212–13.

[xxxiv] Conference Report, October 1960, p. 78, found in https://www.lds.org/liahona/1981/06/fourteen-fundamentals-in-following-the-prophet?lang=eng.

[xxxv] I’m afraid I did it for two years.

[xxxvi] See for example Romans 2: 14-15

[xxxvii] Found in Aspects of Western Civilization: Problems and Sources in History (1988) by Perry McAdow Rogers, p. 53

[xxxviii] There may be more that individuals will value, but I suspect that virtually all reasons can be contained under these five categories.

[xxxix] https://www.lds.org/scriptures/gs/salvation, https://www.lds.org/topics/salvation?lang=eng

[xl] I say “mission” but he was assigned to Utah. While I was tracting in -30 degree weather, he and his companions would choose which roads to tract based on which road they thought they’d get more cash gifts on. At least that’s how he describes it.

[xli] Please see my blogpost https://unexaminedfaith.blogspot.com/2017/07/ctr-rings-embodiment-of-misguided.html

[xlii] Kohlberg, L. (1958). The Development of Modes of Thinking and Choices in Years 10 to 16. Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Chicago.

Piaget, J. (1932). The moral judgment of the child. London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co.

[xliii] Fairly good summary here: https://www.msd.govt.nz/about-msd-and-our-work/publications-resources/journals-and-magazines/social-policy-journal/spj27/the-state-of-research-on-effects-of-physical-punishment-27-pages114-127.html

[xliv] Dekovic M and Janssens JM. 1992. Parents' child: Rearing style and child's sociometric status." Developmental Psychology 28(5): 925-932.

Janssens JMAM and Dekovic M. 1997. Child Rearing, Prosocial Moral Reasoning, and Prosocial Behaviour. International Journal of Behavioral Development 20(3): 509-527.

[xlv] Pinquart M. 2017. Associations of parenting dimensions and styles with externalizing problems of children and adolescents: An updated meta-analysis. Dev Psychol. 53(5):873-932

[xlvi] Lamborn, S. D., Mounts, N. S., Steinberg, L., & Dornbusch, S. M. (1991). Patterns of competence and adjustment among adolescents from authoritative, authoritarian, indulgent, and neglectful families. Child Development, 62, 1049-1065.

Shucksmith, J., Hendrey, L. B., & Glemdinning, A. (1995). Models of parenting: Implications for adolescent well-being within different types of family contexts. Journal of Adolescence, 18, 253-270.

[xlvii] Melby, J. N., & Conger, R. D (1996). Parental behaviors and adolescent academic performance: A longitudinal analysis. Journal of Research on Adolescence, 6 (1), 9-14.

[xlviii] Mackay, K., Arnold, M. L., & Pratt, M. W.(2001). Adolescents’ stories of decision making in more and less authoritative familes: Representing the voices of parents in narrative. Journal of Adolescent Research, 16, 243-268.

[xlix] Melby, J. N., & Conger, R. D (1996). Parental behaviors and adolescent academic performance: A longitudinal analysis. Journal of Research on Adolescence, 6 (1), 9-14.

[l] Turner H. A., & Finkelhor, D. (1996). Corporal punishment as a stressor among youth. Journal of Marriage and Family, 58, 155-166.

Wagner, B. M., Cohen, P., & Brook, J. S. (1996). Parent/adolescent relationships: Moderators of the effects of stressful life events. Journal of Adolescent Research, 11 (3), 347-374.

[li] Calafat A, García F, Juan M, Becoña E, Fernández-Hermida JR. 2014. Which parenting style is more protective against adolescent substance use? Evidence within the European context. Drug Alcohol Depend. 138:185-92.

Dobkin, P. L., Trembley, R. E., & Sacchitelle, C. (1997). Predicting boys early on-set substance abuse from father’s alcoholism, son’s disruptiveness, and mother’s parenting behavior. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 65, 86-92.

Glozah FN. 2014. Exploring the Role of Self-Esteem and Parenting Patterns on Alcohol Use and Abuse Among Adolescents. Health Psychol Res. 2(3):1898.

[lii] Pieser, N. C., & Heaven, P. C. L. (1996). Family influences on self-reported delinquency among high school students. Journal of Adolescence, 19, 557-568.

[liii] Luk JW, Patock-Peckham JA, Medina M, Terrell N, Belton D, King KM. 2016. Bullying perpetration and victimization as externalizing and internalizing pathways: A retrospective study linking parenting styles and self-esteem to depression, alcohol use, and alcohol-related problems Subst Use Misuse. 51(1): 113–125.

[liv] Straus, M. A., & Yodanis, C. L. (1996). Corporal punishment in adolescence and physical assaults on spouses in later life: What accounts for the link? Journal of Marriage and Family, 58, 825-841.

[lv] https://www.ahaparenting.com/parenting-tools/positive-discipline/strict-parenting#

[lvi] Epistemology: Theory of knowledge, examines the question of what is truth and what is knowledge. Especially how do we know.

[lvii] This discussion on the role of faith is, in this context, nothing but an undefended premiss, a promissory note at best, and will, I hope, be elaborated at some point in the future.

[lviii] or 8^th depending on which tradition you are following.

[lix] …and keep the hell away from my family.