Thursday, February 13, 2020

Compensatory Afterlife or 'Drop in the Bucket' Theodicy

I'm not a fan of compensatory afterlife thinking, which would view earthly pain and suffering as a mere 'drop in the bucket' compared to heaven. Even when one's earthly life is dominantly characterized by suffering, billions and billions of years in the afterlife will more than make up for it.

First off, I'm not even sure

(1) Uncountable billions of years in heaven will help you forget about any earthly pain and suffering you had

is false. For all I know (1) is true. But (1) doesn't explain (much less justify) the existence of earthly pain and suffering. In order to justify the pain and suffering, we'd need some details, perhaps along the lines of

(2) Earthly life is a time of soul-making, in which souls are prepared for the afterlife

and

(3) Pain and suffering are necessary for soul-making

and

(4) The afterlife will more than compensate a person for any earthly pain and suffering

and

(5) The value of the quality of a person's earthly life pales in comparison to the value of the quality of a person's afterlife

The conjunction of (2) through (5) could be the start of a compensatory theodicy.

There seems to be a prima facie tension here. The theodicy implies that (and I'm just going to make up some numbers for the purpose of illustration) 0.0000001% years of badness is justified by 99.9999999% years of goodness.

Does the theodicist really want to stand behind this ratio, though? That is, does the theodicist really want to endorse (5)? One might wonder to what extent God endorses (5), if on Resurrection Day God judges how each person will spend 99.9999999% of his or her life based upon how they spent the 0.0000001% of it. In other words, God does not seem to consider the value of the quality of one's earthly life as a mere 'drop in the bucket' at all. God seems to weigh the quality of that 0.0000001% as much as he does the 99.9999999%. In which case, God seems to reject (5).

Does compensatory theodicy undermine itself? Insofar as (2) through (5) are inconsistent, it seems so.

Wednesday, February 12, 2020

Which 'me' will God resurrect?

There is a basic complication for Christian views of resurrection and afterlife that I don't see discussed very often.

Suppose I live to be 100 years old. On Resurrection Day, when God gets to my name on the list, God might resurrect 100-year-old me. But why that version of me? Why not resurrect 48-year-old me, or 21-year-old me? If I'm going to be around for eternity, I'd like to be young and healthy!

You get the idea.

But this situation is not unique to me, nor to people who grow old to be 100. What about, say, infants who die prematurely? They seem to be the opposite case.

Let's not suppose that God is arbitrary about which 'me' to resurrect -- but if God isn't arbitrary, what sort of non-arbitrary principle could he apply when making his decision?

One might theorize that there is, for each of us, an essence, or haecceity, and resurrection essentially involves embodying each person's essence. Of course, the soul might just as well fit this role, and perhaps this 'problem' is really the makings of a Christian argument for substance dualism.

Off the top of my head, it doesn't seem as though essences or souls would be of much help. Rather, it would only translate the problem. Instead of the question 'Which physical body do I resurrect?' the question would become 'Which set of properties do I instantiate (by resurrecting which physical body)?' or 'Which body do I put this soul into -- the 21-year-old body or the 100-year-old body?'

In the case of an infant who dies prematurely, it seems particularly clear that even the soul would be of no help in guiding God's decision regarding resurrection, insofar as it seems to represent a sort of worst case scenario in which an infant soul spends eternity in the body of an infant who died prematurely.

Thursday, February 6, 2020

Why you should refuse Pascal's Wager

Consider the following scenario. You're in a casino, and a table catches your eye because there are bundles of cash stacked from floor to ceiling behind it. A dozen men in sunglasses and tuxedos and holding double-barrel shotguns stand guard around the money. The dealer smiles as you approach the table, and gestures toward the cash. "This is more money than you can even possibly spend," he explains. "You have a 50/50 chance of winning it. And it costs you nothing to bet." You glance again at the cash, and the sunglassed guards, and your heart leaps with excitement as you prepare to say 'Yes! I'd like to place my bet!' As you are about to utter these words, however, you notice the dealer's hand move to rest upon a shiny pistol tucked in the waistband of his suit.

It is rational for you, at this moment of the story, to walk away from the table.

Some, in fact, might think that walking away from the table is the most rational action for you to perform at this point in the story.

Is this scenario importantly analogous to situations of Pascalian wagering? I tend to think so.

Wednesday, February 5, 2020

Creation and Modality

Here is a rough sketch of something that I don't see discussed very often. Or, another way to put it would be to say that a certain conflation seems to occur pretty regularly during discussions of the problem of evil.

I'm not sure of the best way to sketch out this idea; but here goes.

Let '@' name the actual world. Consider the following set of propositions:

(1) God exists at every possible world.
(2) God exists at @.
(3) God created the cosmos ex nihilo.
(4) The cosmos exists at @.

So far, so good -- nothing very controversial here for most varieties of theism. But, suppose we add

(5) It is not the case that God created @.

to the set of (1) through (4). Maybe some theists will want to reject that (1) through (5) is consistent.

How about if we add

(6) God actualized the cosmos.
(7) It is not the case that God actualized @.

I'm not sure I've ever seen a discussion of (5) and (7) before. Instead, these and other details related to the usual Leibnizian scenarios of God's contemplation of and selection among possible worlds tend to get glossed over pretty rapidly.