Refutation of the Problem of Evil?, pt. 2
This is not an exhaustive criticism of the arguments therein, but, in studying, I have found an easy distraction.
Related post: A Refutation of the Problem of Evil?, pt. 1
The author-theologian attempts to appeal to negative popularity in scholarship. This says nothing about the strength of argument which the problem of evil possesses; it is a fruitless endeavor and, might I add, poor etiquette to suggest the opposing argument has somehow been conclusively refuted. If the argument is beneath scholars, then obviously laypeople are just spreading their ignorance.
Nonetheless, I feel I should say a word about the opposition this author presents. The counterargument forms from the presupposition that God exists and is compatible with evil (by nature, a theodicean argument); following, what is presented is an attempt to provide two refutations to the argument from the problem of evil (logical and evidential):
Logical problem of evil counterargument:
(1) God’s will is unknowable to us;
(2) We cannot adequately reason as to God’s motives for the allowance of evil to exist (because God by nature is super-intelligent);
(3) The inadequacy of our reason does not permit us to properly question his motives (because we do not understand this super-intelligence, and thus neither his will);
(4) [Additionally, his divine will (hinged on his super-intelligence) depends on the assumption of his supernatural existence.]
(5) Therefore, God must have some sort of will or reason for evil. In order to have this will or reason, which is beyond humanity’s grasp, God exists in order for that will or reason to exist.
You can easily see the superficiality and circularity of this argument. The fault in this argument is its self-imposed limit to only address the problem of evil but not to question the truth of the premise of God’s existence.
Evidential problem of evil counterargument:
Much suffering, pain, and even evil (in its painful consequences) can be seen to contribute to good outcomes. Physiological pain is largely preventative; natural disasters often provoke positive community responses and integration; heinous moral evil often challenges us to stronger moral stances; painful consequences of evil choices often serve to lead us to change our patterns of choices, and/or inspires those “watching us” to do so, for more extensive impact. The fact that much suffering can be clearly related to a good outcome creates a prima facie case for believing that all suffering might eventually be seen to be non-gratuitous (contributory) to some greater good. Hence, we have positive evidence to dispute the inscrutability/gratuity connection.
The evidential counterargument attempts to obscure gratuitousness with inscrutability, thus claiming that when an atheistic argument is posed that certain forms of evil are unnecessary for a greater good, the argument is produced from one’s own ignorance of how evil can eventually produce some good. That is, the atheist in fact does not understand what evil is, or our ability to judge what is evil is obscured by our own ignorance. It becomes quite clear that if we cannot call any event or tragedy, such as genocide or rape, unnecessarily evil or “gratuitous,” we actually cannot call anything evil whatsoever. Evil, in a disturbing way, becomes blurred out of reality due to our own ignorance.
Both counterarguments thrive on the same theme: ignorance of God’s divine will and ignorance of God’s tactical and incremental strategy to produce the end effect of that divine will. However, both arguments suffer from the false premise that all theodicean arguments are burdened with: reconciling a false compound assumption [God's existence and God by definition is "good"] in order to make the problem vanish.
The true inefficacy of this sort of argument comes from the moral implications that derive from it. Let it be granted that these counterarguments establish the reconcilable nature of God with the problem of evil; however, in the context of this given theory, the sort of morality borne of these arguments only pertain to God. We, as human beings, cannot function and progress believing that all evil is, by its essential nature, not really at all evil but only the strategy for a good. In fact, we do not live this way; if we did, we would not attempt to remedy certain perceived evils. This sort of theodicy cannot both claim validly that some evil is actually a good for God’s will and, at the same time, that some evil is actually good for us [humanity].
Instrumentally, these theodicean arguments are barren. This fact becomes apparent when you cannot but ask yourself: In what way is the human good similar to God’s type of good? Upon reflecting on this question, I doubt it will be difficult to understand that our forms of “the good” are relative and, consequently, similar in nothing but the name. If you start an ant farm, thus becoming the all-powerful benefactor to a society of tiny creatures, the sort of effects you perceive as good are that your ants harvest sugar you provide for their queen, till the soil within the container, and live in relative security. These are the sorts of common goods you and the ants share; however, there exist certain good effects which only pertain to you as the supreme governor. These creatures provide some sort of amusement to you or they bear an grander purpose which they themselves cannot conceive of. At best, this is the type of purpose, or goodness, that we can equate God as having [granting the God of passions and will]. What we learn from this analogy is that those occurrences within the society of ants are positive (good) and negative (evil) relative to their interests; and those same occurrences are positive and negative relative to your own. The ants do not function in such a way as to take your interests at heart; it is not in their nature to act toward a good which they cannot discern as good. The well-being of their queen or their kingdom is their ultimate good; yours is distant or unintelligible to them at best.
From this we can only say that the sorts of things we consider good may correlate to the things which the God of passions and will calls good, but to say so with certainty is foolish and arrogant. Like with the ants, their livelihood is good for radically different reasons, both to you and to them.