Despite his attacks on religion and “faith,” atheist Sam Harris nevertheless holds to his own presuppositional faith in “science,” namely that there can be a “scientific basis” for morality. Simply put, morality is not a matter of ethics, it is a matter of science. He writes, “Many people appear to believe that ethical truths are culturally contingent in a way that scientific truths are not” (170). Translation? Ethical “truths” are relative and depend on any given society; scientific truths are objectively true, no matter what culture you are in—therefore, our morality should be based on science.
I do not know exactly which “many people” he is referring to, but I do not know “many people” who argue that ethics and morality are completely relative simply based on particular cultures. To paraphrase C.S. Lewis, if morality was just simply a matter of what a particular society decided, then there would be no basis for denouncing Nazi morality as more immoral than Christian morality. Simply put, Christianity believes that there are ethical truths that are always true and not “culturally contingent.” Now certainly there are specific examples of propriety and decorum that are culturally contingent, but that is not what we are talking about here.
The fundamental mistake Harris makes is that he equates “ethical truths” that address proper human behavior, with “scientific truths” that address laws of nature. He apparently cannot tell the difference between a “scientific truth” that says water freezes when it gets below 32 degrees, and an “ethical truth” that says it is immoral to throw a baby into that freezing water to die. The thing is, though, Harris, by the very nature of his atheism, is actually say this. By denying the existence of any kind of metaphysical reality beyond the natural world that provides meaning and morality, he is forced to find meaning and morality within the laws of nature alone—and that means he must locate morality within the realm of science. As my example shows, such an endeavor is highly problematic.
The Principle of “Scientific” Morality
In any case, Harris tries to base his “science of good and evil” on this basic principle:
“A rational approach to ethics becomes possible once we realize that questions of right and wrong are really questions about the happiness and suffering of sentient creatures. If we are in a position to affect the happiness or suffering of others, we have ethical responsibilities toward them—and many of these responsibilities are so grave as to become matters of civil and criminal law” (171).
Simply put, civil and criminal law should be directly linked to whether something brings happiness or suffering on human beings. So, is that a good, “scientific” basis for morality? The simply answer is, “No.” The problem is that since human beings are infinitely varied, a law that might protect the happiness of one might at the same time inflict suffering on another.
Harris, though, has considered this potential problem. He says,
“Admittedly, the problem of adjudicating what counts as happiness, and which forms of happiness should supersede others, is difficult—but so is every other problem worth thinking about. We need only admit that the happiness and suffering of sentient beings (including ourselves) concerns us, and the domain of such concerns is the domain of ethics, to see the possibility that much that is ‘natural’ in human nature will be at odds with what is ‘good’ (185-186).
I might be missing something, but I’m pretty sure Harris has said absolutely nothing here. First, he says, “Yes, how to determine which forms of happiness are more important than others is tricky. Let’s think about that.” Then he says, “Let’s face it, there are some things in human nature that aren’t good, and ethics deals with this issue.”
I’m sorry, he hasn’t said anything. Which human behaviors are unethical? Which ones are “good?” How can one “scientifically” define “good”? What “scientific method” does one propose using to determine whose happiness gets to supersede another’s? When such ethical problems immediately arise as soon as Harris proposes a “scientific basis” for ethics, all Harris can do is dance around those problems, say nothing worthwhile, and move on, hoping you don’t realize that the entire foundation for his very proposal has been completely obliterated.
Reason and Faith…I mean Intuition (But I’m really talking about Faith)
Harris takes some time in his book talking about the relationship between reason and intuition. When one reads what he says, though, one realizes that what he is doing is trying to wed together reason and faith, although he doesn’t use the word “faith”—he substitutes “intuition.” Consider these following quotes:
(A) “Thus, the traditional opposition between reason and intuition is a false one: reason is itself intuitive to the core, as any judgment that a proposition is ‘reasonable’ or ‘logical’ relies on intuition to find its feet” (183).
(B) “To be an ethical realist is to believe that in ethics, as in physics, there are truths waiting to be discovered—and thus we can be right or wrong in our beliefs about them” (181).
(C) “The point, I trust, is obvious: we cannot step out of the darkness without taking the first step” (183).
(D) “The fact that we must rely on certain intuitions to answer ethical questions does not in the least suggest that there is anything insubstantial, ambiguous, or culturally contingent about ethical truth” (184).
Harris is almost correct in these statements. He’s right in saying that one’s reasons for certain actions are based on certain presuppositions that provide the lens through which one views the world. One’s presuppositional worldview and faith commitments, therefore, are validated when reason and evidence bear it out and back it up. Harris, though, cannot admit that such presuppositions are rooted in faith commitments, because that sounds too “religious.” And so, he substitutes the word “intuition” for “faith”—but don’t be fooled, it still is a faith commitment.
Harris’ problem is that although he sees the “correct pattern” that leads to true humanity and ethics—i.e. stepping out in faith (O wait.. “intuition”) to see if one’s faith commitments are validated in the real word—he misunderstands what both the source of this true discovery is. He believes in absolute morality, but says it is based on science, and therefore denies the existence of metaphysical reality. Yet science only observes what is, not what should be, and therefore simply can never be the source for morality, or how one should behave. Or to put it another way, if science can only observe a dark and muddled world, then where does one get this idea of light and clarity from? That is something Harris cannot answer.
Moral Pragmatism and Moral Relativism
When discussing morality, there are two positions Harris clearly rejects: (a) moral pragmatism (i.e. whatever works best is “good”) and (b) moral relativism (i.e. morality is “culturally contingent”). Now, I quite agree with him for the most part here. He also believes in an absolute morality (i.e. things that are really right and really wrong)—again, I agree with him. In some of his statements, he’s actually quite close to the Christian teaching on morality. Let’s consider what he says in the following quote:
“To treat others ethically is to act out of concern for their happiness and suffering. …we soon recognize that ‘love’ is largely a matter of wishing that others experience happiness rather than suffering; and most of us come to feel that love is more conducive to happiness, both our own and that of others, than hate. There is a circle here that links us to one another; we each want to be happy; the social feeling of love is one of our greatest sources of happiness; and love entails that we be concerned for the happiness of others. We discover that we can be selfish together” (187).
Harris sees the importance of loving your neighbor as yourself. He recognizes the healing power of love and how it brings about greater happiness and community. Throughout the New Testament, both Jesus and the New Testament writers emphasize this very thing. Consider John 13:34-35: “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” The passages in the Bible are far too many to list here.
Still, there are two problems with Harris’ statement. First, he doesn’t seem to recognize the fact that oftentimes love is most clearly shown when one takes on suffering on behalf of another. Again, John 15:13: “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” Now perhaps Harris would agree with this, I don’t know. Secondly, his last statement about “being selfish together,” is odd. He earlier rejected “moral pragmatism,” but here he is sounding dangerously like a moral pragmatist: “I will ‘love’ you and seek your ‘happiness’ because it will make me feel better.” If that is the rationale behind “loving” someone, then that’s not real love.
Tomorrow, Harris shares a few more thoughts on morality, reason, and love.
