1.21 blog

I feel morally obligated by starting this post with caveat lector, here there be spoilers.

Alright, with that out of the way, and my conscience clear, let’s proceed. Last night, several friends and I were gathered to watch the premiere episode of the final season of Lost. It’s been a long strange trip as we’ve explored themes like redemption, connection, fate, faith, science, time travel, relativity, etc. etc. As the evening proceeded, we got into one of those ever popular discussions of morality.

Last season, having traveled back to 1977, one of the characters, Sayid, became convinced that his purpose was to kill the child-version of one of the show’s “villains,” Benjamin Linus. Sayid knew that Ben would grow up, commit mass murder, lie, manipulate, and generally make life miserable for a wide variety of characters. And so, in cold blood, he shot the boy. And our discussion turned upon whether or not Sayid’s actions were morally right. I maintain they aren’t. Several others disagree with me.

This question comes up in a variety of other pop-culture settings. If Elrond can decisively defeat the Dark Lord Sauron by throwing Isildur into the fires of Mount Doom along with the One Ring, should he? If Jack Bauer can prevent an explosion from killing the innocent, but in order to do so, he must torture someone, should he?

And then, it comes up in the real world. Is it justifiable to attack another country because we think they might attack us, and we need to get them first? If you can prevent the Holocaust by throwing two year old Adolf Hitler down a well, should you? Is it the right thing to murder a doctor who performs abortions, thereby preventing the further killing of the unborn?

Interestingly, the idea that these actions would be morally good is a philosophy called “utilitarianism,” which was propounded by a man named Jeremy Bentham. Lost-philes will recognize that this was the name adopted by John Locke when he left the Island. Students of philosophy will appreciate that Jeremy Bentham and John Locke were philosophical rivals. Anyway, utilitarianism basically says that what makes an action right or wrong is its usefulness. What is right is to bring the greatest amount of pleasure, to the greatest number of people, and avoid as much pain as possible. On this account, then all of the scenarios mentioned above would be “right.”

As much as I’d love to have avoided tragedies like the Holocaust (and as much as I enjoy 24), I’m still convinced that they’re wrong. The reason J.R.R. Tolkien didn’t have Elrond throw Isildur into the fire (There’s a scene where he could have in the films. I can’t recall whether or not there is in the books. I’ll know soon enough, as rereading them is next on my fiction docket), is that, as a Roman Catholic, he inhabited a moral universe where some actions are right or wrong in and of themselves, irrespective of their results. As a fellow member of the same broadly Christian heritage, I agree. So does Paul, in Romans 3.8, he denies the viability of a moral theory suggesting we do evil so that good may come.

As John Milbank demonstrates in his Theology and Social Theory, the modern world is founded on a myth of violence and scarcity. As a result violent struggle is inescapable, and Machiavellian actions are quite justified. Friedrich Nietzsche especially laid this bare. However, the alternative is the Christian conception, which sees reality as founded upon the Trinity, who is peace-full coexistence and love. If there is such a God, whose nature is Good, then goodness derives from him. So long as we believe in such a God, we’re with Tolkien in his assessment of right and wrong. This often leaves us with a universe stained and strained with tragedy. But our hope is not to fix what’s wrong. Instead, our hope is in the one who, on the cross, took tragedy upon himself, who rose from the dead, and who one day will return and be sure that all things are set right.

I’m not telling you what moral theory you should adopt. I’m not dictating what political policies should be. But I do recommend serious consideration of what our moral theory, and the actions that arise from those theories say about what we believe about God.

Posted by: Gene Schlesinger