Natural Law, Human Needs, and Why the Problem of Evil Doesn’t Apply to Classical Theism

It’s important to note that the logical problem of evil—which argues that the statement 'God is good' is disproven by the occurrence of evil, based on a moral principle that connects the two—must be framed as an internal critique to be effective. To illustrate what an internal critique involves, consider a somewhat common (though confused) response sometimes given by theists to atheists raising the problem of evil:

“To even speak of something being evil already implies the existence of God. After all, if God doesn’t exist, nothing can be either good or bad, so in pressing the problem of evil, you’ve inadvertently become a theist. Congratulations!”

This is, admittedly, a cartoonish version of the argument, but even in its less exaggerated form, it remains—to say the least—problematic. Aside from the controversial assumption that moral realism is contingent upon theism, this response misses the point of the problem of evil being an internal critique. Even if the atheist is a moral anti-realist, he still has every right to show an inconsistency within the theist’s commitments. What matters here is whether the theist’s commitments are internally consistent, not what commitments the atheist holds or whether those commitments are consistent with his own worldview.

That said, it’s equally important to emphasize that an internal critique works both ways. The atheist cannot press the problem of evil by assuming things the theist does not accept—such as a different axiology (this relates to “the myth of shared axiology,” for those familiar with the concept). For instance, running a problem of evil argument from a hedonic utilitarian perspective might be effective against certain theists (perhaps?), but it certainly won’t work against classical theists, who reject that theory. The key point is this: just as the theist cannot dismiss the problem of evil by claiming its assumptions are inconsistent with atheism, the atheist cannot argue the problem of evil by ignoring the commitments of the theistic view he is critiquing.

For example, one key commitment that classical theists often emphasize in response to the problem of evil—notably, Fr. Brian Davies—is that God is not a moral agent like we are. I won’t be defending this line of argument here, but highlighting it for illustrative purposes. Illustrative of what? That is, of how, as an internal critique, the commitments of the classical theist seem to thwart any possibility of a successful logical problem of evil.

Classical Theism and Natural Law

To understand why this is the case, let’s briefly consider the classical theist's view of morality, both meta-ethically and within ethical theory. If we take Thomas Aquinas as our representative classical theist, this means considering moral principles within the virtue-ethic/natural law tradition. Classical theists, by and large, are real essentialists, accounting for morality through 'essences and aims' (natural teleology)—that is, formal structures that are inherently and dynamically oriented toward certain ends, which mark their natural state of perfection. Behind all this is the classical theist’s broader commitment to a theory of goodness based on the transcendentals, specifically the idea that goodness is simply being, just viewed under the aspect of desirability or perfection. Consider how we naturally see a tree that sinks deep roots, grows strong branches, and sprouts vibrant leaves as a good tree—better, in fact, than one that fails to do so. Badness (or evil, broadly) is understood by classical theists as a privation of goodness (a lack of being where it otherwise ought to be, like blindness or the non-consideration of a moral rule in judgment), a concept that extends to their moral theory. (See my recent post on classical theism for more on this aspect.)

In other words, it is an intrinsic feature of the classical theistic paradigm is that moral obligation is tied to human nature—we, as humans, are obligated to follow the dictates of our nature if flourishing is our goal. And it so happens that, by nature, flourishing is something we inherently desire—it is the goal! As a result, the conditional ('if you want to flourish') assumes categorical force: we ought to follow the dictates of the natural law. Put simply, natural law theory is the science of a creature’s fulfillment, applied through practical reason.

What are the dictates of natural law? Since the purpose of this blog is neither to develop nor defend a particular moral theory (see my book for more), I won’t go too deep into specifics. However, I can offer a broad outline of natural law theory for those interested.

From Aristotle onward, human beings have been traditionally classified as rational animals. We are animals, yes, sharing the broader category (or genus, in traditional terms), but our specific difference—the trait that sets us apart from other animals—is our rationality. While we need many of the same things that other animals do to flourish (food, water, shelter, etc.), we tend to think that what matters most to our ultimate perfection as humans has to do with our rational nature. Being well-fed but lacking in knowledge, for example, is seen as falling short of full human flourishing. Merely meeting the basic animal requirements isn’t enough for the truly good life, given the sort of beings we are.

Rather, we believe we are perfected to the extent that we exercise our rationality well, come to know the truth about things (including the truth about human nature), and discern what is really good for us—really as opposed to merely apparently good. What I mean by 'really good for us' are the things we need by virtue of our nature, things that are essential for our flourishing, excellence, or happiness. These are distinct from mere wants, which are acquired rather than natural desires, like preferences for a particular flavor of yogurt. Many of these wants are harmless and don’t interfere with our needs, so they can be pursued without any moral concern. However, not all wants are harmless; some interfere with our real needs, and these are the kinds of acquired desires we should resist.

To differentiate, needs are things we ought to desire, whether we currently desire them or not, while wants are things we simply do desire, whether we ought to desire them or not. We ought to desire everything we need, and we ought not to desire anything that interferes with the satisfaction of those needs. However, we are free to pursue innocuous wants when they don’t obstruct our needs. This distinction forms the crux of the traditional ethical position—part of the broader metaphysical paradigm in which classical theism is foundational. According to this view, needs are defined by human nature, and their fulfillment is essential for flourishing as the kind of beings we are.

The Point?

That brief excursion, while hopefully of some interest, was probably unnecessary.¹ The key point for our purposes is this: while the moral principles invoked in the logical problem of evil (e.g., ease suffering if it doesn’t cost you anything) may be objective, their objectivity doesn’t make them absolute within the classical theist's framework. For those who subscribe to natural law, these are stance-independent obligations—meaning they are not merely matters of opinion or sentiment, contrary to what Hume might argue—about what is right or wrong for human beings. These obligations flow from the necessities of human nature, but that’s where their obvious scope ends. Whether such principles apply beyond human nature is an open question, and there’s good reason to think they don’t apply to God. The simple reason is that God has no needs.²

God is not a metaphysically composite being, made up of both potency and act, like we are—beings who are dynamically oriented toward some further state of perfection that we might fail to attain. As classical theists understand Him, God is pure actuality, pure goodness itself. The idea that God could have moral obligations, as though He were directed toward a higher state of perfection, is a muddleheaded suggestion when seen through the lens of the metaphysical considerations grounding traditional ethical theory.

This is why many classical theists deny that God, properly understood, is a moral agent. Thus, formulations of the logical problem of evil that accuse God of moral imperfection based on violations of moral principles derived from human nature are simply confused. They conflate the categories of creature and Creator, often due to an anthropomorphic understanding of divinity.

Recall that the logical argument from evil contends that 'God is good' (q) is falsified by the fact that 'there is evil in the world' (p), based on some moral principle (r), whatever that may be, which connects p and not-q. However, the skeptic faces a significant—if not impossible—challenge in proposing a non-question-begging linking premise against the classical theist. For even if the theist accepts the moral principle as applying to human beings, they have strong grounds to resist its application to the one responsible for the existence of that category, who is not a member of it. As classical theists often argue, God could no more be subject to natural moral law than to physical law, since God is the prior necessary condition for either to exist.

Final thought: As effective as this approach may be for disarming the problem of evil³—cards on the table: I think it’s deadly effective if—if, if, if!—one shares Fr. Davies' view—is it worth the cost? After all, if we aren’t claiming that God is morally good, how do we even arrive at the idea that God is perfectly good? How is this attribution made? And even if we can make it, what does it really tell us? What can we meaningfully say about God’s goodness, and what—if anything—does it actually imply?⁴

I won’t attempt to answer these questions now, but I will suggest that Aquinas believes the attribution of God's goodness can be made with confidence—certainty, in fact—based on his theory of the transcendentals and God as pure actuality. Divine goodness, for Aquinas, is rooted in God's nature as pure being, where goodness is understood as perfection and desirability, rather than as moral obligations that bind creatures (and yes, I cover this in more detail in my book ; ). Moreover, Aquinas clearly speaks of God as wise, just, and merciful, and he firmly holds that we can expect certain definite things of God based on what we know about the divine nature, even if our understanding is limited. While God owes nothing to us, Aquinas contends that God "owes" something to Himself in fulfilling His own intentions. From this, Aquinas believes we can be confident in everything from the fact that God will not randomly annihilate the world in five minutes to His continual offer of grace if we properly prepare ourselves to receive it.⁵

Perhaps we can explore these issues further another time, as Aquinas may offer resources for navigating a much-desired but elusive middle path concerning the problem of evil. This path avoids two extremes: either obligating the theist to provide a full-blown theodicy that "justifies" God in permitting horrendous evil (though many classical theists have willingly taken on this challenge⁶), or, conversely, shutting off the lights entirely, leaving us in the dark about what we can expect from God, even in the broadest sense.

…

1. Before anyone starts down this path, notice this: If one protests by saying, “Well, natural law is false!” or “Aquinas’s theory of goodness is wrong!” that’s simply a different critique of classical theism and requires a separate debate. Attacking these foundational commitments doesn’t advance the problem of evil. To effectively argue the problem of evil, one must demonstrate a contradiction between the classical theist’s understanding of God, the existence of evil, and moral principles drawn from within the theist’s own moral framework.

2. Several other points from Davies are worth an extended quotation:

"Some philosophers have argued that moral goodness is all about recognizing and acting on ‘moral’ obligations. Defenders and detractors of theism, especially in discussions on the problem of evil, often assume that God is morally good because God always does what God ought to do and never does what God ought not to do. However, that conclusion is open to question.

One problem with this view is that it relies on what Elizabeth Anscombe calls 'the moral sense of "ought."' Appeal to this 'moral' sense is frequently made by philosophers who emphasize the centrality of moral duty and obligation in relation to moral goodness, particularly for someone acting in accordance with 'the moral law.' Nonetheless, as Anscombe notes, this sense of 'ought' only makes sense within a framework that views God as a moral lawgiver (i.e., a 'divine law' conception of ethics). Without such a framework, the 'moral ought' lacks coherence. Within such a framework, however, there can be no question of God having moral obligations.

I have heard it suggested that God has moral obligations due to His role or job in the scheme of things, because God’s function is to ensure that certain things should or should not happen in the creaturely realm. However, it is people in specific contexts who have roles or jobs, and there is no comparable context for the Creator of all things, as the Creator is the source of all contexts and the individuals who have roles within them. For example, it makes sense to say that a physician’s job is to help people with medical problems, or that the role of a court judge is to pronounce on legal questions.

One might reply that the sense of what Anscombe calls 'the moral sense of ought' lies in the fact that people often speak of themselves as 'just knowing' that they have various moral obligations. But such talk seems to rely on the dubious idea that one might somehow intuit the reality of moral obligations—as, for example, H.A. Prichard claimed. This idea, I think, falls foul of the fact that it just seeming to one that such-and-such is the case cannot be equated with knowledge that it is, in fact, the case. Whether one knows that such-and-such is the case is not settled simply with reference to what one 'seems to perceive' or 'finds obvious.'

To be sure, on pain of an infinite regress, all arguments ultimately have to rest on what one believes without supplying further reasons to support what one says. But that is not a reason for supposing that the reality of universally binding 'moral obligations' is established simply because people have strong and unargued moral 'convictions' or 'intuitions.' Such 'moral' convictions and 'intuitions' have led some of us to engage in what many would take to be atrocities. Moral 'convictions' and 'intuitions' held by people cannot serve to show that God has 'moral' obligations or 'moral' duties."

3. Logical problem of evil, that is. As for other variants, such as the evidential problem of evil, one might argue that the approach here is functionally similar to skeptical theism in what it can offer to that debate.

4. In the Davies article I’ve been referencing, he offers his own response to some of these concerns, often following Herbert McCabe. For now, I’ll simply note that I think we can go further in certain respects... but that’s a conversation for another time.

5. More precisely, to avoid Pelagianism: if a person, through actual grace, does what they can and prays for what they cannot, God will not refuse them the gift of sanctifying grace. God rewards one gift with another. However, it’s important to note that whatever is done through actual grace cannot merit sanctifying grace, since sanctifying grace is the source of all merit, and one is still in the process of being prepared to receive it.

6. My favorite, by far, is Wandering In Darkness, from Eleonore Stump. Is her account compatible with what has been reported here? I leave that for the reader to decide.