The question of who or what qualifies as deserving of moral consideration is one which is central to any ethical theory. It is widely agreed upon that all humans deserve consideration, but there is disagreement about where exactly the line should be drawn, or if a line needs to be drawn at all. Philosophers have struggled to find self-evident reasons to justify including or excluding animals, plants, and wider systems, leading to a field of varying theories. Perhaps most famously, Immanuel Kant argued for a logic principle, in which the capacity to reason is the necessary qualifier for deserving ethical consideration. Kant’s theory has evolved and been recycled over the years, but many take issue with the position, arguing that it creates an uncomfortably small group of those deserving consideration. Peter Singer, an influential utilitarian, posits that the ability to feel pleasure or pain is the necessary qualifier, as without suffering, we can have no obligation. This would widen the net to include animals. There are still those, representing a less popular but convincingly defended position, who question the relevancy of this principle. In his article, “On Being Morally Considerable”, Kenneth Goodpaster argues for a life principle, meaning that being alive is the only necessary qualifier for consideration. This would cast the widest net of the discussed theories, as it would include all animals, plants, and possibly even ecosystems. Goodpaster’s method is to show that any limitation on moral consideration beyond the life principle is arbitrary, and thus there is no reason to believe it should be narrowed. This track is effective in disproving opposing theories, but leaves the reader wanting in terms of positive justification for, or implications of the life principle. This is where the theory of Bioethical philosophers like Aldo Leopold (who is cited in the epigraph of Goodpaster’s article) and Paul W. Taylor come into play. Taylor in particular lays out a well fleshed out defense and exposition of the Life principle in his book, Respect for Nature.

Goodpaster begins his article with a few important qualifiers. First, he notes that the issue at hand is far too vast to explore fully in the writing that follows, calling it a “preliminary inquiry” (Goodpaster, 381). He then lays out his initial position, that “neither rationality nor the capacity to experience pleasure and pain seem to me necessary (even though they may be sufficient) conditions on moral considerability” (381). In the second section, Goodpaster lays out some important distinctions for the discussion. Most notably, he distinguishes between moral rights, moral considerability, and moral significance. A being must first have moral considerability to be capable of having moral rights, and not all who qualify for considerability have the same rights. This means we can have different obligations to different categories of beings. This is judged by moral significance, which is used to compare the “weight of cases in conflict” (382). Goodpaster states that this discussion will only cover the question of who qualifies as possessing considerability, and astutely points out that the lack of this distinction between considerability and rights can subconsciously lead to a more narrow conception of who or what qualifies for consideration, as it is easy to consider only those to which we owe the most obvious responsibility. 

In the third section, Goodpaster analyzes and convincingly refutes prominent arguments for narrowing the field of moral consideration beyond the life principle. First, he approaches the Kantian school of thought and the logic principle. He cites G. J. Warnock’s interpretation of the argument, that “For X to deserve moral consideration from A, X must be a rational human person” (383). This position is quickly dismissed, and Warnock brings up the common objection to the theory: that it excludes children and the mentally handicapped, who it appears we have at least some obvious obligation to. Warnock allows for a softening of the position, that it also includes “potential rational human persons” as well. There are still defenders of the Kantian position, such as Allen W. Wood, in his article, “Kant on Duties to Nonrational Nature”. Wood takes issue with Kant’s framing of the discussion, but attempts to strengthen his position. He points out that “Kant argues that our duty to cherish and promote what is beautiful in nonrational nature irrespective of its usefulness, and to behave with kindness and gratitude toward animals, are really duties to promote our own moral perfection” (Wood, 7). Wood seems to want to adhere to Kant’s position while softening it, but this line may be too thin to tread. Kant lays out no explicit principle for respecting non-rational nature aside from bettering our own moral state, which seems to suggest an abstract respect for nature without giving it real moral considerability. Following the principle as stated, there are still human persons who could be judged to be incapable of becoming rational, which again (according to Kant), would not mean we may totally disregard them. However, his theory gives those individuals no independent moral considerability, and both Goodpaster and Warnock judge the logic principle to be too porous to be held.

Warnock suggests an alternate qualification. He argues that we have a moral responsibility to acknowledge and consider any suffering, so the criterion for consideration is the “capacity to suffer (or perhaps better, sentience)” (383). Thus the argument is “For all A, X deserves moral consideration from A if and only if X is capable of suffering pain (or experiencing enjoyment)” (384). This is a common utilitarian position, which is represented with slight variation by different philosophers. Peter Singer takes a similar track, saying that without sentience, “there is nothing to take into account” (Singer, as cited by Goodpaster, 384). Goodpaster argues that this sentience principle is not applicable. He points out that “sentience” entails the capacity to anticipate and avoid threats to life, which we perceive as suffering. “This at least suggests, though of course it does not prove, that the capacities to suffer and to enjoy are ancillary to something more important rather than tickets to considerability in their own right” (Goodpaster, 384).  Joel Feinberg refines the utilitarian position, stating that only beings that can be represented are deserving of consideration, and that only beings that have interest can be represented. This makes the criteria for consideration the ability to have interests (385). This position broadly advocates for consideration of animals, but excludes plants and biosystems. Goodpaster argues that even beings that cannot be represented can still have interests, yet the utilitarian position excludes them from consideration. For example, we are aware that there are conditions which we would call “better” or “worse” for the existence of plants, even if they are unable to communicate those interests to us directly. He therefore argues that even beings without interests can be harmed. Goodpaster accuses Feinberg of presupposing that to have interests, one must have “desires, wants, and aims” (386). The implications of this claim sound more aligned with the Kantian position, as we cannot project those qualities on all animals, or even all humans for that matter. Thus Goodpaster believes we cannot project these paradigms of pleasure, suffering, or interests onto any being other than humans, nor can we use it to define the qualifications for moral consideration. 

Satisfied with his refutations of the Kantian and utilitarian positions, Goodpaster moves on to refuting objections to the life principle. One objection he raises is the concern that if all life is an object of moral consideration, conscious beings such as ourselves will be seen as no more valuable than insects or vegetables. Goodpaster responds by pointing out his previous differentiation between moral considerability and moral significance, and that distinctions can be drawn in terms of value (387). He also addresses the concern that the concept of “life” cannot be defined with certainty. He counters that the definition of life is more certain than that of “reason” or “interest”, and even then that there is no reason that “a criterion of moral considerability must be strictly decidable in order to be tenable” (388). He cites a definition of life, which states that “The typifying mark of a living system … appears to be its persistent state of low entropy, sustained by metabolic processes for accumulating energy, and maintained in equilibrium with its environment by homeostatic feedback processes.” (Sayre as cited by Goodpaster, 388). He presents a concern that the above definition does not exclude wider systems, such as biospheres, from consideration. However, he sees no reason to restrict consideration to individual beings, asking “why should the universe of moral considerability map neatly onto our medium-sized framework of organisms?” (388). The most potent objection, as he calls it, is the question of livability. Is it really possible to live while giving moral worth to essentially everything? He answers this concern by referring again to the idea that different beings/systems can have differing moral significance, and sacrifices must be made (consuming food, protecting ourselves from disease, etc.), so not every being needs to be given the same weight that we would give a human life. In the final paragraph, Goodpaster lays out some hugely important final questions, which he says we should consider with care. “Balancing competing claims” (389) in a world full of competition remains a massive challenge. He also wonders about the comparable moral weight of the young versus the old, and of systems versus individuals. The answers to these questions will determine how the life principle applies to the way we structure our values and live our lives. 

After reading “On Being Morally Considerable”, I was left convinced by Goodpaster’s arguments, but slightly unsatisfied due to the mainly negative nature of his approach. His article is very effective in what it sets out to do, as Goodpaster states that he is merely attempting to show that any conception of moral consideration more narrow than the life principle is arbitrary. He is not claiming to build a positive justification for the life principle, nor does he attempt to explore the implications of an ethical theory built on the life principle. He could be accused of appeal to ignorance in his argument (in assuming that if he proves common Kantian and utilitarian positions wrong, then the only possible solution is the life principle). But again, he does not claim to justify the life principle in this writing. There are also several hugely important questions on which he fails to propose any guidance. How would we grapple with the massive challenge of an incredibly complex web of competing moral claims (including those of wider systems) in competition? How livable is a theory based on this principle? What would motivate an ethical system built on the life principle? And perhaps most damagingly, if there is no reason to restrict moral consideration beyond the life principle, could the life principle itself be an arbitrary distinction? Again, Goodpaster does not claim to attempt to answer any of these questions, but they are a result of the almost completely negative approach he brought to the argument. Almost ironically, in proving the logic and suffering principles to be arbitrary (and building no positive defense for his position), he leaves his life principle open to the same critique. 

This is where the writing of Paul W. Taylor comes into play. In the final sentence of his article, Goodpaster mentions the importance of Aldo Leopold’s ethical theory. Leopold is considered the originator of the “land ethic”, which is expanded upon and supported in Taylor’s book Respect for Nature. Taylor’s theory attempts to provide answers to many of the questions left after reading Goodpaster’s article by building a positive justification for and exploring the implications of the life principle in his bioethical theory. Taylor argues that humans are biological creatures just like any other, and we owe our survival to the many processes and systems involving every living thing in the natural world (Taylor, 156). For example, our atmosphere is regulated by living photosynthesising beings, our sustenance is provided by the plants, animals, and fungi, plants help regulate the water cycle and moderate erosion, and so on. Without all of these systems functioning in balance, human life would be impossible, and thus our duty to all living things is also a duty to ourselves. From this perspective, the intrinsic good of all living things is found in the realization of their unique role in the web of systems and processes in the natural world. Taylor argues that “just as we humans place intrinsic value on the opportunity to pursue our own good in our own individual ways, so we consider the realization of the good of animals and plants to be something that should be valued as an end in itself” (157-158). In this view, the interconnected nature of our existence is central to the conception of morality. We cannot exist without impacting beings and systems, and thus we should tailor our behavior to promote the flourishing of everything around us. Taylor refers to this theory as the “biocentric ethic”, and it seems to provide inherent motivation for guiding behavior. He also provides some framework for resolving cases in conflict, which are as follows: “The principle of self-defense, The principle of proportionality, The principle of minimum wrong, The principle of distributive justice, [and] The principle of restitutive justice” (263). These principles by no means lead to a clear solution to every moral conflict, but they at least provide a reference point as to what we should consider when weighing cases. Taylor acknowledges that there will always be some degree of uncertainty, and leaves room for flexibility. “We must remain ready to revise our judgment, not only in the light of new factual information but also on the basis of further critical reflection concerning the precise meaning of a principle and the conditions of its proper application” (263-264). Taylor’s book provides a detailed description of and justification for his bioethical theory which I cannot do justice in this paper, but these arguments provide at least one example of an attempt to answer some of the hugely important questions that Goodpaster fails to address in his article. Overall, Goodpaster’s article is convincing and effective in its stated goals, but frustratingly narrow, and leaves the reader with more questions than answers. He effectively disproves the logic and suffering principles, but seems satisfied that the only remaining conclusion is the life principle, and thus does not attempt to justify it or explore its implications. 

The debate over moral consideration will surely rage on, possibly for as long as human existence. The nature of morality is non-tangible and seemingly unknowable, and morality means something different to each individual. The implications of the discussion are massively impactful in the way we live our lives and interact with the world around us, as they will dictate how we construct our ethical system and determine moral behavior. I believe that bioethical theory, while far from perfect, provides the most convincing argument for a self-motivating and behavior guiding moral structure (that I have yet seen). This position is advanced by Goodpaster’s convincing arguments against the logic and suffering principles, which he shows to be arbitrary methods of judging moral considerability. I cannot fault Goodpaster for qualifying and narrowing his arguments, as this is an incredibly complex discussion, and he very specifically, carefully, and effectively achieves what he sets out to do. I am left hungry for more, however, in terms of positive justification for his theory, and I believe the lack of such justification weakens his argument to some of the same types of attack that he levies against the Kantian and Utilitarian position. 

Sources Cited

Shafer-Landau, R., & Goodpaster, K. (2013). On Being Morally Considerable. In Ethical theory: 

An anthology (pp. 381–389). essay, Wiley-Blackwell. 

Taylor, P. W. (2011). Respect for nature: A theory of environmental ethics. Princeton University 

Press. 

Wood, Allen. (1998). Kant on Duties Regarding Nonrational Nature. Proceedings of the 

Aristotelian Society. Vol. LXXII

Climate change is an existential threat to all of the life we know to currently be in existence in the universe. This is a fact that we must face. Any attempt to minimize or play down the severity of the crisis will hamper our ability to deal with the massive challenge ahead. But in order to fully understand the issue, we must understand how we got here. We must first know the nature of the damage we have done before we can go about fixing it. Where did we go wrong? The answer to this question is incredibly complex, and deals with seemingly infinite interactions of forces throughout human history. I will be discussing a facet of the problem that I believe to be particularly central and influential, the way capitalism has shifted modern human values. I have grown up witnessing the continued growth and mutation of hyperconsumerism in the country that does it better than any other. This shift in value (away from appreciation for the beauty and wonder of the natural world and towards short term gratification of any desire) rewards those who pursue more for themselves, regardless of the cost to others or the earth. Of course we will continue to burn rainforests in Brazil when the people in power value those areas more as resources to be exploited than as intrinsically valuable havens for biodiversity. So how can we shift our system of values? The question of how to encourage a broader public shift in value is important, but it is complex and vast on its own, and for now I attempt to provide an example of a convincing and tenable view of morality that encourages a shift in value necessary for motivating change. I believe that this change in worldview is a necessary first step to more forceful pushes for conservation of biodiversity and protection for the natural world. Regenerative agriculture is an example of this philosophy applied in an attempt to begin to undo the damage done by industrial farming. The issues we face are vast, and only by understanding them fully can we productively attempt to solve them. 

David Wallace-Wells lays out a chilling depiction of our potential future in the introduction of his 2019 book, The Uninhabitable Earth. He sets the tone in the first sentence, warning the reader that “It is worse, much worse, than you think” (3). He goes on to lay out terrifying projections from the UN: projections of global climate refugees range from 200 million to one billion by 2050 (7-8). The equator could be unsurvivable for humans to be outside by 2100 (14).  From the IPCC: Hundreds of the world’s largest cities underwater by 2100 (11). These projections are not to be taken as gospel due to the complexity of the subject they are attempting to model. But it is particularly discouraging how little heed we have taken as the current situation grows worse and projections go from bad to worse to nightmarish, which does not bode well for the future. It is easy to follow the implications of these models. Increasingly desperate people competing for increasingly scarce resources leading to wars for energy, water, and habitable land. Exponentially increasing refugee crises, as humanity has shown that refugees are often demonized and rejected, leading to more conflict and suffering. The wealthy and powerful hoarding resources and isolating themselves in bunkers, on the seas, or in space. Again, these predictions are not guaranteed. But they are absolutely a potential, if we continue to wallow in inaction. And this is only the human aspect of the crisis. Our actions not only impact us, but all other earthly beings as well. We are currently committing xenocide on a incomprehensible scale, and we are on a path to eliminate most or all of the biodiversity we know to be in existence. Framed this way, humanity is by far the greatest threat to the existence of all life, and we still refuse to act. 

So, why have we not acted, in the face of overwhelming scientific evidence of the threat? An important component of the answer lies in our values. I believe that action is fundamentally a communication of value, as beings will only act on that which they value enough to want to influence. In our system, selfishness is a virtue. Those who gain power are those who are most insatiably hungry for it, who consider only themselves. How can we explain a world in which Jeff Bezos makes more money in a week than most will make in their entire lifetime, while so many (who are working one or more jobs) cannot afford housing or food for their families ? Bezos has accumulated so much capital that he could play a meaningful role in changing the world for the better. However, due to the nature of our system, he would not have risen to his stature if he was one who was truly motivated to help others. We value money, because money is used to purchase stuff, and we have been brainwashed into believing that more stuff will make us happy (by those who want to profit by selling us that stuff). We worship the economy, this synthetic being that ebbs and flows, and sacrifice our poor when the stock market seems unhappy. Especially in America, the economy is seen as intrinsically good, so those who can manipulate the system on their way to the top are seen as idols to be adored. Many believe that Bezos and others like him are fundamentally righteous in their quest to always acquire more. They see nothing wrong, because there is no room in their consideration of values for the harm that the billionaire class is doing. There is no reason to be concerned about Amazon’s environmental impact, or their mistreatment of workers, or their insidious role as data hoarders, because they provide a service that is convenient. Over time, this convenience evolves into a feeling that Amazon’s services are essential, which provides more motivation to ignore complaints and defend the existence of billionaires. I am singling out Bezos here, but as the wealthiest man in the world, he is the prime example. There are countless others profiting from abusing the earth and other humans, and gaining social capital as they go, because this is viewed as a positive system to those who benefit from it. 

This brings the discussion to overconsumption. As Annie Leonard says in her book, The Story of Stuff, “consumerism is about excess, about losing sight of what’s important in the quest for stuff” (145). When this principle becomes the norm, that you as a person are the stuff that you have, of course we will not value the natural world. We will not consider the consequences of unhealthy agriculture, or deforestation, or burning fossil fuels, because that would get in the way of profit. Obtaining more things to show off your societal status, happiness, and power has become the end-in-itself for so many, which gives them no reason to consider change. This is a trap that is difficult for anyone to avoid, as there is always a new product promised to be the thing that will solve all of life’s problems. Companies have learned that there is endless potential to create need by creating problems, and then selling the solution. Buying something is easier than enacting real change, and the excessive advertising that we have grown accustomed to and barely notice anymore conditions us to seek fulfilment in products. Companies will manipulate any advantage they can to create a need, leading to emotional and subconscious messaging. This cycle is self sustaining, as in reality, searching for fulfilment in things will eventually lead to emptiness. When the thing is no longer exciting, there is a new need for a new thing, and unavoidable advertising tells us exactly what to buy next. Overconsumption has become the societally accepted standard around much of the world. The farther we go down this path, the more abuse of the natural world we are able to excuse because of our endless need for more. When we are conditioned to no longer consider the cost of anything we create, we make disposable items out of a substance that will never biodegrade. We care so little about the earth that we make millions of plastic utensils and straws for a single use, knowing it will end up in a landfill for all eternity. Why? Because we worship convenience, and we have been conditioned to look past any negative consequences of anything that benefits us. These are just a few examples of the way our current value structure promotes harm to the natural world. So how can we change our values to motivate positive change?

I believe one example of a value structure that promotes a healthy relationship with the natural world is Paul W. Taylor’s Bioethical theory. In his book, Respect for Nature, Taylor argues that humans are biological creatures just like any other, and we owe our survival to the many processes and systems involving every living thing in the natural world (Taylor, 156). For example, our atmosphere is regulated by living photosynthesising beings, our sustenance is provided by the plants, animals, and fungi, plants help regulate the water cycle and moderate erosion, and so on. Without all of these systems, human life would be impossible, and thus our duty to all living things is also a duty to ourselves. From this perspective, the intrinsic good of all living things is found in the realization of their unique role in the web of systems and processes in the natural world. Taylor argues that “just as we humans place intrinsic value on the opportunity to pursue our own good in our own individual ways, so we consider the realization of the good of animals and plants to be something that should be valued as an end in itself” (157-158). In this view, the interconnected nature of our existence is central to the conception of morality. We cannot exist without impacting beings and systems, and thus we should  tailor our behavior to promote the flourishing of everything around us. Taylor refers to this theory as the “biocentric ethic”, and it seems to provide inherent motivation for guiding behavior.

If we value the intrinsic good of the flourishing of nature as equally valuable to our own flourishing, we consider the world with an entirely different paradigm. The central goal of life is to learn one’s own role in the web of systems around them, and how to live in harmony with those systems, promoting flourishing for oneself and all beings that they influence. This conception of morality also allows for moral obligations to systems, as a flourishing system is composed of flourishing individuals. I believe that if there was more willingness to rationally consider ethical duty outside of the lens of our consumer society, it would be obvious to most that our duty to the natural world is a duty to ourselves, and it should not require an obtuse moral explanation. However, we must acknowledge and work past the blinders that have been forced on our consideration by the capitalist nature of our society. Unfortunately, it seems to me that many capitalists would easily find a way to continue to justify their excessive habits even in the face of this argument, as the persuasion of self benefit is a difficult force to overcome. The question of how to encourage a broader societal change in values remains. Industry has found that they can effectively resist climate restrictions with propaganda, muddying the discussion and preventing progress as they continue their exploitation. This means that education will play a huge role in the solution to these problems, as a populus must be capable of resisting these malicious efforts. Bioethical theory is a convincing argument in favor of considering the impact of our actions on the world around us. This does not mean that all who consider it will be convinced, or that if everyone accepted this view, all of our problems would be solved. However, I believe a widespread acceptance of this conception of morality would be a step in the right direction. It is by no means the only step, but I think that it promotes a comprehensive map for considering climate issues in terms of systems and relations between living creatures. 

So, in the face of all of this, how do we advocate for change? If we understand the way the forces of greed and short sightedness have influenced our production of goods, we notice the way our industry strays from natural processes. Industrial agriculture is an excellent example of this effect. After years of applying increasingly complex technology to the way we grow our food, we are realizing that there are consequences to blindly inventing the path forward as we go. Barren soil results from monoculture farms, robbing the soil of nutrients. Pesticides harm the entire biosystem, and require genetically modified plants to resist them. Food is modified to create the most chemically addictive product possible, leading to unavoidable unhealthy quantities of fat, oil, and sugar. This leads to lacking essential resources in the average diet. We have streamlined farming with the central goal of increasing profit, which leads us to sacrifice in food quality, general human health, and the health of the biosphere. 

This is where we can apply bioethical philosophy to the real world in the field of regenerative agriculture. Paul Hawken defines the title of his book Regeneration in the first sentence: “Regeneration means putting life at the center of every action and decision” (9). Regenerative agriculture is the process of learning to work with natural processes to optimize farming yield while maintaining a healthy biosystem. It involves learning from these natural processes and often emulating nature when possible. For example, keeping animals and plants on the same land maintains soil quality (100). Cover crops also enrich soil and prevent weeds, which eliminates the need for pesticides (98). We need to take resources from the environment to survive, but regenerative agriculture exemplifies a way to minimize the negative impact of growing food on the biosphere while maintaining output. By learning from and emulating nature in the way that we farm, we can grow more diverse and nutritious food, while also positively influencing the wider system,which promotes future growth. 

The problems of climate change and decreasing biodiversity are existential. The solution will need to be multifaceted and broadly considered, as natural systems are made up of complex webs of interaction which we do not fully understand. In a sense, we are monkeys in front of a nuclear missile control panel, randomly pressing buttons and hoping to stop the launch. However, I am confident that there are areas we can identify the required change and push for it. I do not know how to influence a wider society to accept a more biocentric view of value, but I do believe that we must value nature as an end in itself if we are to prevent ourselves from destroying it. There are promising examples of the damage of hyperconsumerism being undone by a biocentric approach, such as regenerative agriculture, but these cases are the minority for now. The current system seems to be so entrenched and resistant to change that it may be only after the consequences of our inaction become unavoidable that we finally realize we should have acted long ago. 

Sources Cited

Taylor, P. W. (2011). Respect for nature: A theory of environmental ethics. Princeton University 

Press. 

Throughout all of human history, conceptions of God(s) have consistently existed and greatly influenced the lives and world interactions of every belief holder. This is not surprising, as the desire to understand the world around us is one of the traits that defines us as humans. Yet we are finite and limited beings, both in our perception and our understanding, so there have always been (and potentially will always be) gaps in our comprehension of the universe. So humans conceived of the concept of God, to explain the phenomena that they could not. Early peoples worshipped the sun, oceans, weather, and other facets of the natural world. They passed on stories explaining how the world was created and providing guidance on the purpose of human life. Yet with the development of science, we were able to see behind the curtain and understand that these natural phenomena are the result of predictable forces that bind our existence. The earth revolves around the sun, weather patterns are dictated by temperature and humidity in the air, and so on. Once we understood the natural strings pulling these processes, most ceased to worship them, and conceptions of god evolved to become less concrete. The modern conception of god (in the major three monotheistic traditions) is that of a perfect being, of which there can be no greater. Philosophers have been grappling with the questions of religion since ancient Greece, and the debate has only grown more heated as religion’s former influence is being forcibly absorbed by science. I believe current arguments show that the existence of an omniscient, omnipotent, and omnibenevolent is untenable with reality. In this essay I will be examining two specific arguments from J. L. Schellenberg that I believe are particularly convincing and damning lines of questioning for the theistic position on their own, and devastating when combined. The first is the problem of finite beings attempting to understand ultimate concepts, and the second is the problem of divine hiddenness. I will then briefly attempt to support my central claim, that the human concept of god is and has always been that which is unknowable to them at the time, and thus direct pursuit of knowledge of god is an ironic impossibility. 

The modern conception of god serves to answer the unanswerable questions in human life (Why are we here? What happens when we die? What is right and wrong? And so on). These are questions most people will consider in their lifetimes, and the answers have a massive influence on behavior. Thus it is tempting to accept answers that are simple and seem to lead to healthy behavior, which is one reason many accept the concept of god without great investigation. Schellenberg argues in his book, Wisdom to Doubt, that we should be cautious with what we can claim to know, especially when the stakes are ultimate. He establishes his position in the first sentence of the introduction, that “Reason requires us to be religious skeptics” (Schellenberg, 1). He believes that we do not yet have the evidence required to claim with confidence that we know the nature of ultimate reality. 

He first focuses on what he calls the subject and object modes, where he analyzes human capacity for knowledge, and the nature of ultimate claims (claims about religious reality), respectively. In the subject mode, Schellenberg lays out five forms of evidence or information on the nature of ultimate reality that would be rendered unrecognizable due to the nature of the human mind (18-26). This includes evidence that we overlook, neglect, or do not happen to come in contact with (18-22). These are all examples of evidence that we have the capacity to understand, but for one reason or another we do not. More notably to me, however, he brings up unknowable evidence in two forms. Evidence that we could potentially have the capacity to understand but do not currently (23-24), and evidence that we will never have the capacity to understand (24-27). Humans can only understand ideas in the context of our previous experience. I can conceive of combinations of ideas I currently possess, such as a mix of two colors, but I cannot conceive of a new color that I have never seen before. We know there are many more colors on the light spectrum than we can see, yet we are limited in our ability to understand them due to our limited sensory perception. Thomas Nagel argues a similar point in The View from Nowhere, saying “I can believe that reality extends beyond the reach of possible human thought” (Nagel, 95). This acknowledgment of the information we could be missing is reason to suggest skepticism about concrete religious claims. 

In the object mode, Schellenberg considers the infinite nature of the ultimate (50-68). If one considers the question of ultimate reality, to truly understand the ultimate is to understand the entire universe and everything in it. It seems very unlikely that our finite brains, which are often confused and overwhelmed by the simplest workings of the universe, could comprehend or contain such knowledge. Thus Schellenberg convincingly argues that there is potentially limitless evidence which is currently (or even permanently) inaccessible to us, and even if we had access to said information, it is unlikely we could truly understand it. Thus, we should hold a position of open minded religious skepticism. 

Another line argument from Wisdom to Doubt that I found particularly convincing was a branch of the problem of evil, specifically the problem of divine hiddenness. According to the common conception of god, he is all-knowing, all-powerful, and all-loving/good, and a relationship with him is a ticket into heaven, while remaining in unbelief is often cause for damnation to hell. If this were the case, however, he would seemingly want to have a relationship with all his creatures, for he would surely not desire to see them suffer in hell. He would certainly have the capability to make that a reality due to his omnipotence, yet there are countless examples of unbelievers. Schellenberg specifies types of unbelievers, offering four categories. First, there are “former believers” (228). If one were previously in a relationship with god, he would not want to let one fall into unbelief, and he should have the power to prevent it. Second, he offers ”lifelong seekers” (233), those who spend their lives in honest inquiry about the nature of reality, yet never find god. “Converts to nontheistic religion” (236) compose another group of nonbelievers. Most interestingly to me, however, are the “isolated nontheists” (238). These are individuals who, due to various factors, are never exposed to the theistic god, and thus never have an opportunity to enter a relationship with him. There are many who existed before the current conception of god, and there are many living in isolated cultures who will never hear of the christian god. According to theistic principles, isolated nontheists are damned to hell for reasons completely outside of their control. This does not seem in line with an omnibenevolent being, who could seemingly choose to not send them to hell. Theists have attempted to refute the problem of evil, and specifically of divine hiddenness, with various theodicies. These often invoke free will, or the idea that the current state of things is the better or necessary option, but I find that these responses do not undo the damage done by the argument. If this is the best possible reality, then the vast suffering in the world, especially that caused by god himself, seems to disprove the conception of god as an omniscient, omnibenevolent, and omnipotent being. 

I believe that these arguments, along with a host of others from Schellenberg and other nontheists, give sufficient justification to suspend belief in the theistic conception of god. However, I would like to investigate the human relationship to the concept of god more thoroughly. As I mentioned previously, humans understand the world around us based on ideas that we create from patterns of interactions that we observe and remember. Many philosophers have proposed the idea of the existence of an objective world separate from our perception, such as Plato with his Forms. While these theories vary widely, they are often similar in that we are incapable of gaining knowledge of the true nature of things. It is my belief that humans can only gain knowledge from the interaction of two or more forces (using forces in the broadest possible sense of the term), and how they impact each other. In this way, we can learn about the properties of forces, but never the true nature of the forces themselves. However, to exist is to interact, and we build an understanding of all concepts in terms of their interactions with others. All of our senses function as methods of detecting interactions to gain information. Light reflects from objects, which we perceive as color. Movement pushes air, which we perceive as sound, and so on. While this dynamic applies directly to all of our senses of perception, it also applies in the world around us. We construct our understanding of the world by building on patterns of interaction to explain and predict events. This means that each individual experiences existence differently, as everyone has experienced different patterns of interaction in their lives. If I am watching a sunset on a lake with a younger brother and my grandfather, we will all perceive different information from the same scene. The youngest may be only experiencing the colors in the sky and the reflection on the lake, while I know that the color comes from the refraction and bending of light due to gravity and our atmosphere, and my grandfather observes that there are fewer loons in the lake than usual. We all understand the patterns of the universe differently, and the more we experience and understand, the more information we can draw from the same scene. I do not have the base of knowledge to know how many loons are usually present, so the lack of loons is not significant to me, as I cannot understand it in context. I believe this example illustrates the problems with evidence brought up by Schellenberg, but also the way human perception of the universe changes as we gain knowledge. 

With advancements in science, we have been able to better understand many of the forces at work around us. We know gravity as a force that interacts with the earth, keeping us orbiting around the sun, which we better understand due to chemistry and physics. As our understanding of the interactions of these forces grows, the mystery diminishes, and stories of sun and rain gods fade from society. Yet there are still (potentially limitless) forces beyond our understanding, and this is where we now find god. This pattern of god explaining the unexplainable, then changing when those forces are better understood, seems to suggest that the human concept of god throughout history has been used to explain whatever is unexplainable at the time. God thrives in the vacuums in our understanding. This idea was touched on by Thomas Hobbes in Leviathan, as he wrote: “Whatever we imagine is finite. Therefore there is no idea or conception of anything we call infinite. No man can have in his mind an image of infinite magnitude, nor conceive infinite swiftness, infinite time, or infinite force, or infinite power … And therefore the name of God is used, not to make us conceive him (for he is incomprehensible, and his greatness and power are inconceivable), but that we may honour him” (Leviathan, 3.12). Hobbes suggests that the concept of god is used as a stand in for the unknowable. 

It seems that there are consistent laws of the universe which bind all interactions, even those that we cannot or have not yet perceived. I do not know what would happen if a Boron and Uranium molecule collided at the speed of light, but I am certain that something would happen, and it would follow established rules of interaction, which we could potentially understand. If god were to exist, we could only learn of him through his interactions with the natural world. However, the more we understand, the more we seem to realize that events in the natural world are results of otherwise explainable interactions. Thus, it is my belief that if we were to learn of all natural forces governing reality and their interactions (which is likely impossible), there would be no room for god, as there would be nothing unexplainable to explain. Following this logic, I conclude that humanity has used the concept of god in an attempt to understand that which we cannot understand, meaning that direct pursuit of knowledge of god is in reality, the rewardless pursuit of the unknowable. 

Now, I do not interpret this conclusion as meaning that we should not pursue knowledge of the universe, or god. I agree with Schellenberg that the best answer to the question of ultimism is an open minded skepticism. In my arguments, I am making assumptions based on my own patterns of interaction, which could be proven incorrect at any time. I believe that knowledge of the universe can be used to better the human condition, and is absolutely a worthwhile pursuit. However, I believe attempted proofs of the traditional theistic conception of god to be fruitless, as responses to arguments to the existence of god have proven that if god exists, it is not the traditional conception. This begs the question, then: what do we call god? My answer is humans call god that which we do not know, and potentially that which we could never know. This means that investigation into the very concept of god is ironically impossible, as my definition of god is that which we cannot know. When we are young, god is found in the colors of a majestic sunset. As we grow and learn, we understand the forces painting the sky, but that should not stop us from appreciating the beauty and complexity present in every aspect of existence. 

Sources Cited

Hobbes, T., Krul, W. E., & Tromp, B. (2007). Leviathan. Boom.

Howard-Snyder, Daniel (2006). Hiddenness of God. In Donald Borchert (ed.), Encyclopedia of 

Philosophy. MacMillan.

Kraut, R. (2017, August 1). Plato. Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Retrieved November 30, 

2021, from https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/plato/.

Murray, A. (2012). PDF. Sydney; The Expressible and the Inexpressible.

Nagel, T. (1989). The view from nowhere. Oxford University Press.

Schellenberg, J. L. (2006). Divine hiddenness and human reason: With a new preface. Cornell 

University Press.

Schellenberg, J. L. (2012). The wisdom to doubt: A justification of religious skepticism. Cornell 

University Press. 

Karl Marx is undoubtedly one of the most influential thinkers in human history. His economic analysis and critique of capitalism is in many ways even more startling today than the day it was written, and yet attempts to create political and economic systems based on his proposed solutions have failed across the world, usually leading to conflict and death. In the scope of geopolitics, his utopian vision of a humanity without suffering has become little more than another blood soaked banner to unite men in opposition. During the Cold War, an explicitly ideological war of capitalism versus communism (which communism “lost”), humanity came closer than ever before to self-extermination. If Marx could see how his ideas have shaped the course of global history up to today, he would likely be horrified. How is it that the quest to end human suffering undertaken by a generational thinker, who has been proven over the course of time to be so capable and thorough in his analysis of the forces at work in the world around us, resulted only in the creation of more conflict and suffering? Was Marx wrong? The answers to these questions are complex, nuanced, and multifaceted. However, it is my belief that the failure of Marx’s utopian ideology when applied to the real world comes from a combination of his insubstantial and flexible conception of human nature, his emphasis on human suffering stemming various forms of alienation, and his underestimation of the scale of the revolution required for the creation of his utopia. 

In many ways, Marx owes his worldview to Hegel, particularly in that he sees history as an endlessly complex web of contemporary interacting forces and their reflections. Everything can only be understood in the context of everything else and everything that came before it. He also inherited Hegel’s teleological view and added his own accelerationist twist, but that will come later. This dynamic of interaction and reflection is particularly present in Marx’s understanding of human nature (or human essence, Marx used the two somewhat interchangeably). He believed that human nature manifests in the world-interaction, the outward expressions and creations of humans. Marx states that anyone seeking to analyze human nature “must first deal with human nature in general, and then with human nature as modified in each historical epoch” (Fromm quoting Marx). Thus he differentiates between general human nature and its expressions throughout time and societies, as human nature in each culture is a reflection of our general nature through the lens of whatever socio-cultural forces we are influenced by. He has an optimistic view of general human nature, that it is fundamentally benevolent and social. Central to his conception of human nature is his definition of man as a species-being, meaning that our connections to each other are essential expressions of our own humanity.

“[Social relationships reveal] the extent to which man’s natural behaviour has become human, or the extent to which the human essence in him has become a natural essence-the extent to which his human nature has come to be nature to him. In this relationship is revealed, too, the extent to which man’s need has become a human need; the extent to which, therefore, the other person as a person has become for him a need-the extent to which he in his individual existence is at the same time a social being” (Marx-Engels Reader, 83-84).

Marx believes that true expression of general human nature entails concern not just for the self, but for all of humanity. It entails infinite and incomparable value placed on all human lives (not just their physical well-being, but their ability to express their humanness and connect to themselves as a species-being and thus each other). As fundamentally social beings, we need each other, and thus it is our most basic nature to treat each other well, and assist in each others’ fulfillment. Thus Marx claims that the most pure expression of human nature is a spirit of cooperation and compassion, as our connections to each other are also our connections to ourselves and our own humanity. 

What follows from this view is the difficult to swallow idea that if all humans were able to fully express their nature as a species-being, to know and be connected to themselves, other humans, and the products of their world-interactions, there would be no conflict. For Marx, “The history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles” (Communist Manifesto, pg. 1). All division and conflict is attributed to the creation of social classes for the purposes of subjugation. The mechanism for this subjugation, and thus the cause of suffering, in Marx’s view, is the concept of alienation inflicted by capital. In general, alienation is the separation of man from his worldly interactions, and thus from his human nature. Marx lays out four main forms of alienation which he believes to be prevalent in capitalist society (Marx-Engels Reader, 74-77). First, there is the alienation of the worker from the product of his labor. The textile factory worker does not own the raw material with which he works, nor the textile he creates. At the factory he leaves his labor, his worldly proof of his own existence and ability to act as a force in the world. His labor is stolen from him immediately as he manifests it. This form of alienation shows the force of capital over the laborer, as his labor is immediately dissolved from him into capital. This exemplifies a crucial aspect of the concept of alienation, that it is the division and extraction of the various forms of the self.  Secondly, there is the alienation of the “worker to his own activity as an alien activity not belonging to him” (75). The first type is the alienation of the laborer from his product in the physical world, but Marx refers to this second type as “self-estrangement”. The laborer has no choice but to work to provide food and shelter for himself and his family, and so the time in his life that he spends at the textile shop is not his time, but rather belongs to capital. Thus not just the product of the self, but the process, the existence of the self is fractured, divided and partially owned by capital. The third form of alienation is that of man from “Man’s species being, both nature and his spiritual species property, into a being alien to him, into a means to his individual existence” (77). This type of alienation is the severance of our individual relationship with our human nature. Marx believes that we are alienated by capital from our fundamentally social and compassionate nature due to a system that forces us to only look out for ourselves, and encourages us to profit at others’ expense. This leads to Marx’s final instance of alienation, the “estrangement of man from man” (77). Here Marx connects the idea of our alienation from ourselves as well as from each other, and claims that in robbing us of ourselves, capital also robs us of our ability to know each other. Marx believes that “The estrangement of man, and in fact every relationship in which man stands to himself, is first realized and expressed in the relationship in which a man stands to other men” (77). Crucial here is Marx’s idea that in the ideal state of human nature, all lives are valued equally and infinitely. If I am estranged from my own individual human nature, the groundwork has been laid for me to justify exploiting others. If I cannot relate to myself as a human (as a species-being), we cannot relate to each other, and vice versa. Thus Marx diagnoses the ways in which capital alienates us from our human nature, both as individuals and as a collective, which he believes to be the cause of suffering in a capitalist system.

According to Marx, in order to escape this system of oppression, a worldwide “permanent revolution” (Address to the Communist League) is required. Thomas Hobbes’ philosophy on human nature provides some insight into this dynamic. Hobbes has a very different conception of human nature, and I believe in this contrast lies some insight into the practical failure of Marx’s programme. Hobbes argues in the Leviathan that the fundamental state of human nature (with no governing body) is a “state of war of all-against-all”. He argues this state of war stems from humans’ selfish nature (fundamentally opposite to Marx) and our rough equality in terms of size, strength, intelligence, etc. No one person is powerful enough to individually subjugate everyone else. Secondly, he argues that even those content with their lot, who would not desire to command power over others, will be dragged into the state of war because there will always be those who will attempt to take what they have. This is why it is crucial that Marx’s communist revolution be worldwide, as any communist state (which explicitly abolishes exploitation) in a capitalist world will be preyed upon by those who remain exploitative. 

This leads to the major practical criticism of Marx’s utopia, that he underestimates the scale of change required, or at least the likelihood of said change given human nature. The communist revolution entails not only reforming all political and economic structures, but also the way each individual sees themselves and interacts with each other. If there are any remaining exploitative states, we will remain trapped in a war of all against all. Marx believes that the revolution, the end of alienation worldwide, will entail all of these required changes; that when we are finally connected to ourselves as a species-being, exploitation will no longer exist as a human concept. This is where I believe Marx’s theory of human nature lets him down. Marx puts a great deal of effort into defining what human nature is, and much less into describing how human nature is. This makes sense considering his Hegelian view of history (that human nature is infinitely malleable depending on worldly structures), but I believe Marx heavily underestimates the fundamental human component of the global capitalist structure. Hobbes sees something consistently selfish in human nature that Marx does not, or chooses not to. Marx sees humanity as alienated and isolated because of a broken system, yet he fails to recognize that system as a reflection of the will to exploitation inherent in human nature. Marx does not factor humanity’s penchant for selfishness and maliciousness into his solution, because he believes they are ills brought on by human nature’s reflection through a selfish and malicious system. He confusingly fails to acknowledge the degree to which human nature creates said structures. I believe Marx’s Hegelian influence, notably his teleology, contributed to his idea of accelerationism. The idea that history is a series of forces moving towards something (which Marx chooses to believe is the ideal state of humanity) gives Marx undue belief in the massive scale of the coming change, belief that things will eventually get bad enough that they must change and when the time comes it will just work out. His idea of the revolution is sudden and worldwide yet in reality, the scale of historical change has been just as fractious and stop-start after Marx’s time as before. 

In summary, Marx believes that our capitalist system alienates us from our own human nature and our ability to relate to each other. Due to his flexible conception of human nature, he believes that if we were placed in a system that encouraged the assimilation of the self, in which man’s general nature as a species being was allowed to be expressed, then there would be no oppression, no subjugation, and no exploitation. Each individual would place infinite value on the others’ ability to unite the self and flourish. In such a state, there would not even be a concept of social inequality, as it would be unthinkable due to its opposition to human nature. Now, this sounds like a wonderful place to live, and I do not think such a society is a theoretical impossibility. However, Marx’s utopia falls apart if there is a single non-compliant. Suspicion breeds suspicion, and suddenly we have returned to the war of all against all. The comparative selfless nature of Marx’s system (there would be no uneven accumulation of power, no one would take more than they need) leaves that society vulnerable to those who have no problem with exploitation. Thus, Marx’s utopia is either complete or non-existent, it is all or nothing. This is not to say that it is not a goal worthy of aspiration, but I believe that Marx vastly underestimates the scale and complexity of the changes required. While he writes in great detail about the conditions leading up to the revolution and what the world will be like after, he does not leave us with much guidance on the process of the revolution itself. 

This is where I believe the divide between Marx the economic analyst and Marx the

utopian thinker is critical. His critique of the ills of capitalism has been proven accurate and even prophetic over the years, but his suggested solution, while not completely impossible, does not follow from his analysis. His calls for a sudden and complete revolution fail to factor in the nature of the force he is trying to overthrow. It is as if I went to a doctor who told me very specifically what kind of cancer I had, how it developed, and how it will continue to impact me, but his prescribed course of action was to overthrow my body and move my consciousness into a different body free of cancer. It would solve my problem, but it is not feasible or helpful in my current situation. Capitalism has an unsettling ability to absorb and reflect criticism in a way that is infinitely self-sustaining, as long as resources permit. It is possible that Marx’s revolution is still on its way (which is not necessarily a comforting thought, as Marx believes things will continue to get worse until we reach the breaking point), but it seems more likely that we will continue along this path of two steps forward, two steps back, just enough piecemeal change to quiet the calls for revolution while maintaining the power imbalance in the system to the greatest possible extent. 

I believe that Marx’s utopian vision would not have had the impact it has without the genius of his critique of capital. It was assumed that because he was right about many things, he was right about all things, and this led his utopian philosophy to be taken at face value by many. However, Marx’s conception of human nature as fundamentally benevolent places responsibility for suffering and alienation on the system, while ignoring the role of human nature in the creation of systems of oppression. In this case, Marx could take note of Hobbes’ view of human nature, or Hume’s problem of the sensible knave. When attempting to invent an “ideal” state of man, one must consider man in its entirety, selfishness and avarice included. Without complete global overhaul of human value structures, there will always be those more concerned for their own well-being than others, those who are willing to exploit others to benefit themselves. By requiring his revolution to be worldwide, Marx seems to think he is avoiding that problem, yet he is more likely removing his utopia from the world of realistic possibility.

Sources Cited

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James M. Czank (2012) On the Origin of Species-Being: Marx Redefined, Rethinking Marxism, 

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Leopold, David. “Alienation.” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, Stanford University, 30 Aug. 

2018, https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/alienation/#Intr. 

Tucker, Robert C., et al. The Marx-Engels Reader. Norton, 1978. 

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