Showing posts with label good and evil. Show all posts
Showing posts with label good and evil. Show all posts

03 November 2004

That Old Time Religion

Review: Mel Gibson's Passion of the Christ
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world throught him might be saved. He that believeth on him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved the darkeness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved. But he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God. — John 3:16-21, KJV

The meaning in the message

Before we jump into a critique of Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ," a decent respect for people who are other than Christian requires that we set the ground for the discussion by saying a few words about the film's premise.

From the New Testament writers, through St. Augustine to the present, Christian apologists (explainers) have used the narrative of Genesis 3 to establish the necessity for God to "beget" a Son who can bear God's Wrath against us for the Sin which we have inherited as a result of Adam and Eve (the first humans) having eaten a piece of fruit from the "Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil" that God had forbidden them. To the first Christian community, almost all of whom were Jews familiar with Genesis, this made sense. But judging from the declining membership in mainline churches, it doesn't make sense to many people today.

Rather than scoff at the doctrine — and scoff one can, starting with St. Augustine's argument that we inherit Adam's Sin through our fathers' semen — let's try to extract its meaning by letting go of Genesis and focussing on the Crucifixion itself. And though we will only extract mere words, we ask that they may point to the Living Truth whose silence answered Pilate when he asked, with haughty cynicism, "What is Truth?"

Let's start with the barest outline of the Christian narrative: God, the Creator of the Universe and everything in it, chose to become born as an ordinary person, like you and me, named Y'shua (whom we call Jesus) about 2000 years ago, as we reckon time, in Judea (a remnant of the ancient kindgom of Israel, which in Jesus' time had been annexed and occupied by the Roman Empire). At the same time, God remained God, separate from Jesus, so that Jesus could only connect with God through prayer, just like you and me. Ordinary people, like you and me (many of the Judeans and their religious-political leaders), had Jesus killed because his practices and his preaching threatened their existence in three ways:
  • Jesus' laxity of ritual observance undermined the purity of Judeans' system of beliefs and worship practices (the root of both modern Judaism and Christianity). Many writings in their Hebrew Bible (the Old Testament Scriptures) led them to believe that purity of Religion was necessary to retain God's favor, which they believed necessary to sustain them as a people, especially under the brutal heel of Roman occupation.
  • Jesus' thinly veiled sedition against the Roman occupation of Judea (His "Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's: render unto God that which is God's," would seem to indicate that he thought Judeans owed their primary allegiance to something greater than Caesar) threatened to ignite a new round of violent persecution by the Romans. The Judeans had been exiled from their land once before — into Babylon — and they were afraid the Romans would exile them again. Indeed, the Romans coined the term Palestina (after the Philistines) in order to divorce the Judeans from their land by changing its name.
  • And finally, the Judean leaders were concerned that Jesus would turn the subjugated (and angry) populace against them for desecrating their Faith by collaborating with the Romans. Certainly he seemed to demand a kind of "inner purity" that he accused them of not practicing.
So, they did the prudent (and self-serving) thing. They handed this charismatic, but dangerous kook over to the Roman authorities, who routinely killed barbarians (non-Romans) by crucifixion, a method so horrific, that no one depicted Christ on the Cross until about A.D. 400, a century after the practice had been abolished and had passed from living memory.

As for the Romans — they thought it only proper to kill any overly religious Judean who might be taken to impugn the Divine Mandate of Caesar to rule Judea or any other part of the whole world. As for the Judean leaders and many of the Judeans themselves — their moral compromise was in vain: within forty years, the Romans massacred the Judeans and dispersed the survivors into the wider world. (Which set the stage for Jewish and Christian sensibility to shape the mores of Western Civilization to this day.)

But then, on the third day after his execution, people began seeing Jesus alive, and having conversations with him in which they walked with him, touched him, and ate food with him. Finally, after many days he appeared to be taken upward into heaven.
These events transformed the followers of Jesus. They had been humiliated, disillusioned, and terrorized by the brutal and comtemptuous execution of their leader. But after the Resurrection, they embraced death — both his and their own — and defiantly proclaimed his teachings, his death by crucifixion, and his resurrection against all authorities, despite all ridicule, and despite all hazards. And they changed the world.

But first they had to explain the meaning of the events they had witnessed. Which means they had to interpret these events using words and images that would be understood by their audiences, both Judean and Greco-Roman.

Now all explanation is simile and metaphor. One can only explain the unfamiliar by likening it to something the novice already knows and understands. All human language is a series of symbols, which stand for things, or point to things, but are not the things themselves. One is not going to capture the infinite God in a finite string of words, even if that string is as long as the whole Bible. Nevertheless, they had to explain, and, between forty and ninety years after the events themselves, their explanations (which had become oral traditions of several tiny and persecuted minorities) were written down as the four Gospels familiar to us now. But even before the Gospels were written, the gifted, educated, and driven Apostle Paul, wrote letters that explained Christ in terms familiar to both the occupied and their oppressors.

Though it seems inoffensive to us now, the reaction of anyone who had seen a crucifixion to the Paul's declaration, "I knew only Christ, and him crucified," would be shock. They would think him to be an idiot. Yet many would listen for a while, in horrified fascination.

Jesus is indeed our Messiah, he would tell the Judeans, because he conquered the greatest enemies of all, Death and Evil. He came into this world precisely to submit himself to the worst they could do, and then to triumph over them, on our behalf. And now that he has triumphed, he will come back for every single one of us who will follow him and lead us to Eternal Life with God — not some dim semi-existence like the Judean Sheol, or the Greco-Roman Hades, but Eternal Bliss with the Father, the Son, and the angels.

The Judeans would understand Jesus in terms of the sacrifice of Abraham, and the lamb sacrificed at Passover, as being the sacrifice to end all sacrifice. For the point of all sacrifice is to give up something of value in order to make things right with God. Now God himself has provided the highest value, his Son, just as God provided a ram so that Abraham would not have to sacrifice his only son, Isaac. God's Son, Jesus, is the stand-in for us all, for the debt we owe God, because, on our own, we are not right with God. The Judeans would understand this through the narrative of Genesis, in which Death and hardship entered the world, because the first humans, Adam and Eve, disobeyed the only commandment God had given them.

To the Romans, Jesus would be understandable as a tragic hero, who, like Hector in Homer's Iliad, carried out his honorable duty, though the path of honorable duty was doomed to a tragic and painful end. He would also be understandable as a truth-teller, who, like Socrates, chose to die rather than to appease respectable society by abandoning the truth. The Romans would understand that we are not right with God by observing the evil and corruption rampant in society. They were also familiar with Death and hardship entering the world through an act of disobedience — Pandora opening Epimetheus' box, against his order.

To either audience, the occupied or the oppressors, Paul and the Apostles would preach that the crucifixion of Jesus had been necessary, not for human purposes, but for God's purpose of redeeming humankind from Sin (actually hamartia which refers to a tragic flaw or a tragic mis-direction, in Greek, the language in which the New Testament was written) and the consequence of Sin — Death.

We, on the other hand, now know that hardship and Death were in the world from the beginning of Life, long before there were humans. Further, we know that evolution is the response of Life to hardship and Death, and that humans are one of the expressions of that response. In other words, God used hardship and Death to make humans. In response to hardship and Death, we often disregard others and look out only for ourselves. But, since we are evolved to be a social species, we know that it is wrong for us to do so. We know that we must do good for ourselves and our society, and that sometimes, we must sacrifice our personal desires and interests for some higher good. We know that this is what God's Justice has written on our hearts, yet we disobey, and we lie to ourselves about it. And we attack those who threaten to expose our lies — like Socrates, the Prophets, and Jesus. (Or anyone who challenges our way of seeing the world and ourselves.)

We don't want to be confronted with our lies. Which means we can't accept our true selves, and we don't believe anyone else can, either, unless we pay the price, unless we earn acceptablity by self-sacrifice to a higher cause. Yet we need to accept our true selves, in order to be able to tolerate God, in whose presence we confront the truth about everything. The price is beyond our ability to pay, for in the presence of God, we have nothing to offer but tainted goods — the selves that even we cannot accept. So God pays the price for us. God came into the world as one of us, to endure abandonment by God, and to be killed by us.

That is the price of admission for people like us into God's Presence — Paradise. It is a shock, a horror, and a scandal. And since we don't want to be confronted by the inference that we are that bad, we deny it, and attack (at least verbally) those who proclaim it.

Ecce Gibson


"The Passion of the Christ" opens with the camera moving at night between tree trunks toward the sweating, trembling figure of Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane. "Oh my God, this is really Catholic," I think as I brace myself for a two-hour ordeal. James Cazviel portrays spiritual distress so intense that it manifests itself in physical agony even before Judas and the Sanhedrin's private guards arrive. (Protestants discreetly emphasize the spiritual agony of the Passion, while Catholics emphasize the physical suffering. Points to the Catholics — we Protestants are often too prissy about embodiment. On the other hand, most lay Catholics I know have never really thought much about theology.)

We go on to see Jesus beaten and spat upon by the Sanhedrin's guards, and then beaten, whipped, flayed, kicked, and crowned with thorns by Pilate's Roman soldiers. We see him forced to carry his own cross, which he embraces. We in the audience are relieved that his torture is nearly over, but the worst is yet to come. Gibson forces us to look as each nail is driven into Christ's sacred hands and feet. Mother Mary watches, her hands clenched into the gravel on which she kneels. I look down at my own hands, clenching the arms of my seat.

Other commentators have deplored this graphic depiction of violence as excessive and offensive, unaware of what views they have been spared. We do not see Jesus naked, even though the Romans commonly humiliated their victims by exhibiting them without clothing. We do not see Jesus raped, even though Roman soldiers had license to further humiliate their captives by sexual abuse. (Perhaps Jesus was spared such treatment, as he was spared the breaking of his bones, but the Gospels and Catholic tradition are silent on this point.) Nor do we watch for six or eight hours as Jesus hangs from the cross, the motion of each involuntary gasp for breath causing such agony that he prays it to be his last.

Other commentators take issue with some of Gibson's portrayals, as do I. Pilate, for one, comes off far too sympathetically. Roman writings by his contemporaries describe Pilate as being so wantonly cruel that he was eventually recalled (fired) from his position as Prefect (Roman Governor) of Judea, because his brutal repression of the Judeans was itself causing too much resentment. I can't imagine that Pilate would have given a damn about yet one more charismatic, faith-healing preacher. Even Jesus' admission, "My Kingdom is not of this world," would have offended him. The only kings were those to whom Caesar and the Senate granted that title.

By the same token, Caiaphas (the chief Priest) comes off too unsympathetically, and the story suffers his loss as a potential figure for instruction. I have given my own more sympathetic interpretation above. In Gibson's rendition, however, Caiaphas has about as much regard for human life as the Taliban, and even threatens Pilate with stirring up a rebellion if Pilate does not crucify Jesus.

Caiaphas and his followers may have been the official priests of the Temple, but they had been installed and maintained by Rome as useful collaborators, and everyone knew it. Those with legimate claim to be priests — descendants of Aaron and members of the tribe of Levi — had been suppressed, and their line of descent had been obsured. In other words, Caiaphas and the Judean religious-legal body called the Sanhedrin were in no position to start a rebellion.

They were not even in a position to execute a man (although stoning the occasional adulteress seemed to be okay). The Roman occupation reserved that power for itself. That is to say, Jesus was executed on Pilate's order.

By contrast, I almost weep for Peter's anguish at realizing how he had betrayed Jesus by denying that he knew him. I feel the same even for Judas, who in his mortal regret for having betrayed Jesus, commits suicide before he could see the Resurrection, and seek the Forgiveness that the Risen Christ would surely have granted him. Perhaps these shadings of emotion are merely my projections, derived from my prior meditations on the Crucifixion. Or perhaps they are reactions to the shadings of portrayal in the cinematic art of Gibson and his cast.

May we legitimately ask of Gibson that he slant the portrayals ever so slightly toward more modern sensibilities? After all, the Gospels themselves are slanted toward the sensibilities of a Greco-Roman audience (they were written in Greek, not Hebrew or Aramaic) living in the latter part of the first century, A.D. The Gospel writers whitewash Pilate and tar Caiaphas, because you don't win converts and avoid persecution by implicating your audience's favorite governing structures in a crime against the God-Man for whom you seek to win their conversion. But you must implicate some group — religion back then was even more of a team sport than it is now — so why not some group who wasn't able to defend itself, like the Judeans? And besides, the Judeans were there, many of them must have called for, or at least assented to, the Crucifixion, and just as most of them had successfully resisted contamimation of their religion by the Romans, most of them also resisted contamination of their traditional religion by the Jesus movement, which must have engendered some animosity on the part of the early Christians, both Roman and Judean.

[OK. I could call them "Jews," but the Judeans were divided into about five religio-political factions, the Pharisees, the Sadducees, the Essenes, the Zealots, and the Jesus movement. Of these, the Pharisees evolved through the crucibles of the occupation and the Diaspora, and their creative reaction to them — the Talmud — into modern Judaism. The Jesus movement was absorbed by Greco-Roman culture and became Christianity, which means that Christianity is, culturally speaking, an extremely Hellenized branch of Judaism. The other factions did not survive the Roman occupation. Besides, the Romans didn't call them Jews, either. They called them Judeans, which is translated into modern languages as "Jews."]

So, the Gospels are anti-Judean, or at least anti-the-Judean-factions-that-were-not-the-Jesus-movement. Thus written, they have lent themselves to later interpreters who were anti-Semitic, which contributed to anti-Semitism becoming one of the Sins of the Christian Church. Can we therefore ask that Gibson re-slant the story, so that the Judeans appear more sympathetic, and the Romans less so?
Within limits, Gibson already does it. It is clear in the film that many Judeans are in the Jesus movement. Several members of the Sanhedrin itself challenge the legitimacy of Caiaphas' midnight "trial" of Jesus, before they are ejected. But the limits are narrow.

The limits are set by mostly by the Gospel texts as we have received them, collected, selected, and preserved for us by the Roman Catholic Church. And with the exception of a few touches, Gibson stays within them. Jesus and his Mother Mary, for example have few speaking parts in the Passion narratives, and therefore, few speaking parts in the film. Rather than fully developed characters, they are cinematic icons. Jesus, is the innocent Lamb of God, who bears the Sins of the World. Mary is the Mother is the embodiment of comfort and strength, even as she herself bears the unbearable torment of witnessing her Son's slow and brutal execution. Other than Christ, she alone seems to understand what is happening and to accept its necessity.

The other limits on Gibson's film are set by the extra-biblical traditions of the Roman Catholic Church regarding the Passion. One of those extra-biblical traditions, perhaps one may serve to illuminate Gibson's motivation.

As Jesus collapses yet again while bearing his Cross toward Golgotha, a woman steps forward to wipe his bloody face with a cloth. In Catholic tradition, she is only named for what she posesses, Veronica, the True Image (of Christ). Again, I feel tears welling in my eyes. If only the tradition were true, and if only the Veronica had not been lost. I care not so much to look on an image of Christ, whether true or not, but something in me yearns to touch, even to kiss, something that had touched my Lord in kindness. I surprise myself that I am capable of such piety.

Piety is obviously Gibson's motivation for making this film. It is a thank-you card from Mel to his Redeemer, and to the Church that instructed him in the Faith. Mel gave it everything he had, and stayed as close as the film-maker's art would allow to the text and traditions as given. His piety permits no slanting or softening to meet the demands of modern sensibility. Nor is it needed. Rather, modern sensibility has for too long been trying to forget its roots in the ancient faith. It is modern sensibility that could stand to be less smug.

So, bottom line. Is "The Passion of the Christ" anti-Semitic? As writer-producer-director, he had complete creative control over this film. I was told that the hand he chose to show driving the nail into Christ's hand is his own. (And until you can come to an understanding that, spiritually speaking, the Blood of Christ is on your hands, too, you have yet to make a truly Christian confession.)
The Passion of the Christ (both the narratives in the Gospels, and Mel Gibson's film) is a shock, a horror, and a scandal, but it is also the beginning of the Good News. The completion is the moment of Resurrection, with which the film ends.

If you are Christian, I recommend that you see "The Passion of the Christ" for the opportunity to expose yourself to the emotional impact of what it is you say you believe. If you are other than Christian, this is an opportunity to find out what makes the Christians with whom you share this world tick. There is very little "background" in the movie, so you might want to read one or more of the Gospels first. But don't bring the kids. It's rated R for a reason.

Editor's Note: After 2006, it appears that if you get Mel Gibson drunk, let him drive, and then try to arrest him, he gets anti-Semitic Tourette's Syndrome. The film may not be overtly anti-Semitic, but we're not so sure about Mel.

03 November 2000

God of the Natural Philosophers

Review: Religion and Science
Historical and Comtemporary Issues
Ian G. Barbour
A little philosophy inclineth men's minds to atheism; but depth in philosophy bringeth men's minds to religion. - Francis Bacon
In 1989-1991, Ian G. Barbour, now retired from Carleton College where he was professor of physics, professor of religion, and Bean Professor of Science, Technology, and Society, gave the prestigious Gifford Lectures. One of his subjects was Religion in an Age of Science, which he subsequently revised and expanded into Religion and Science: Historical and Contemporary Issues, published by Harper-Collins in 1997. Even for a physicist and amateur theologian like myself, it is a dry read, like eating ashes. This is partly because two-thirds of the book is an extended introduction to the remainder. It is also partly because, for the God of Barbour's version of Process Theology, Christ appears to be optional.

Process Theology arises from an attempt to integrate insights from both religion and science in a unified understanding of God, the Cosmos, and our relationship to them, ourselves, and each other. Nature is viewed as having multiple levels of organization and complexity, which offers multiple opportunities for a patient God to act as the chief Creative Participant in the ongoing self-creation of the Universe by a multiplicity (an ecological community) of agents — among them, ourselves. The God of Process Theology is therefore self-limited in both foreknowledge of the future, and power to direct it. This absolves God from the necessity rescuing us from catastrophe, whether brought on by natural processes or human malevolence, thus solving the age-old Problem of Evil.

This transforms the question of the ultimate triumph of Good over Evil at the End of Time — the traditional subject of Eschatology — into a purely technical question of whether the Universe will end in a Final Crunch or a featureless, uniformly cold bath of low-energy radiation. Moral victory is beyond the Process Theologian's planning horizon.

But what of personal salvation? Barbour's presentation of Process Theology is friendly toward the idea, and Christ appears as the chief instance of God's evocative power of love and persuasion. Of Christ, Barbour says (p 326),
Several themes in Christian thought support the portrayal of a God of persuasion. Christ's life and death reveal the transformative power of love. We have the freedom to respond or not, for grace is not irresistible. In the last analysis, I suggest, the central Christian model for God is the person of Christ himself. In Christ it is love, even more than justice of sheer power, that is manifest. The resurrection represents the vindication rather than the denial of the way of the cross, the power of a love stronger than death. Process theology reiterates on a cosmic scale the motif of the cross, a love that accepts suffering. By rejecting omnipotence, process thought says that God is not directly responsible for evil. Whereas exponents of kenotic self-limitation hold that the qualifications of divine onmipotence are voluntary and temporary, for Whiteheadians the limitations are metaphysical and necessary, though they are integral to God's essential nature and not something antecedent or external to it.
 In the complex hierarchy of levels of agency in the Universe, humans are most sensitive to God's power of persuasion, and Christ was the most sensitive of humans, achieving a oneness with God's will worthy of the designation, "Son of God." In other words, according to Process Theology, and in particular to Barbour's version of Process Theology as inspired by the philosophy of Alfred North Whitehead, Christ is nice, but unnecessary (except perhaps as the personification and deification of the Process Theologian's desire to see love triumph over power). The experience of the Christian community that Christ is necessary for salvation is but one of the inputs for a theology that implicitly values the tentativeness and openness of ongoing process above all other values.

The other inputs for Barbour's Process Theology are insights from physics, astronomy, and evolutionary biology. I think the omission of input from psychology, sociology, and cultural anthropology might account for some of the sterility of Process Theology — for the omission of these insights is the omission of ourselves, except as physico-biological entities and philosophical abstractions.

In short, Barbour's theology is really an outline. It is waiting to be filled in by a Christology based on the scripture, literature, history, and ongoing experience of the Christian community. And yet, its place for Christ is circumscribed by the need to accomodate a systematic set of metaphysical categories that attempts to span both religion and science. I think it is unsuccessful, in part because its notions of religion and science are circumscribed.

I suggest that a Christology should be informed by the best of modern knowledge and thought (including process thought), but should be mindful that it is an answer to Christ's question, "Who do you say that I am?" In order to maintain faith with the Christian community, past and present, Christology needs to be saturated with Christ as necessary, rather than burdened with Christ as optional. And, in keeping with the witness of the New Testament, it must radically affirm Christ as human and divine, crucified and resurrected, necessary and sufficient for salvation.

Affirming Christ as human is easy — he is man born of woman, child raised by parents, and participant become renegade leader in his community. He is physically, biologically, psychologically, sociologically, culturally, politically, religiously human. Affirming Christ as divine is less obvious in a largely innumerate culture, because such affirmation is perhaps best informed by mathematics.

In mathematics, an infinite set can be mapped member for member (one-to-one) onto a proper (smaller) subset of itself. For example, the integers can be mapped one-to-one onto the even integers: just take each integer and multiply it by two. One maps onto two, two maps onto four, three maps onto six, and so on forever. And yet, the even integers are only half of all the integers. Mappings that are one-to-one are also reversible — dividing the even integers by two recovers the whole set of all the integers. Now, I could just as well have proposed to multiply each integer by a billion, mapping the entire infinite set of integers one-to-one onto a set only a billionth as big as itself. Perhaps similarly, God chose to become the human Christ, a mapping of the Infinite God onto a human being, infinitely smaller than God, but still infinite (which may be part of what it means to say we are made in God's image). That God could also still be God, that Christ had to communicate with his larger self through prayer just like the rest of us, should present no problem. The Author of Space is not bound by space, the Author of Time is not bound by time. If God can be everywhere, why not also somewhere in particular? If God can be everywhere, why not two places at once?

The crucified-resurrected duality also has an easy first part. We know the Romans routinely crucified non-citizens for a variety of crimes, real or imagined. There is no reason to suppose they did not crucify a charismatic cult leader who refused to recognize the Emperor's divinity, and who therefore refused to acknowledge the theological/moral right of the Roman Empire to rule the world. Affirming Christ's resurrection, however, requires a leap of faith, which is most easily enabled by religious experience involving personal encounter with the Risen Christ. (I must admit, that my own rather non-specific experiences could easily be dismissed as wishful thinking. I have no inspiration beyond the "light that lights everyone who comes into the world.") On the other hand, Jesus never wrote a book, never held office, and never went more than 200 miles from his birthplace — yet 2000 years later, he is still a force in human history. Something astounding must have happened.

But now we come to what it all means — the bit about Christ being "necessary and sufficient for salvation." This has to do with our ultimate concern, which the Lutheran theologian Paul Tillich identified with God. The problem is that, as Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel said (God in Search of Man: A Philosophy of Judaism, Noonday Press, 1955, p127), "Only saints are ultimately concerned with God. What concerns most of us ultimately is our ego." We are turned away from God and toward ourselves in a twisted way which we ourselves cannot straighten out. This estranges us from God, but also estranges us from ourselves (we create a self-image which we use to have a relationship to ourselves — we observe ourselves acting as ourselves — instead of just being ourselves. Not surprisingly, we also are estranged from each other and the natural world, as well. These four basic estrangements are Sin, and make it impossible for us to have completely honest relationships with anyone or anything, including God.

As long as we are in the world God gave us, we can manage. We even use our estrangements to survive. By compulsively distinguishing between self and other, we avoid danger, and seek the reward of food and shelter. But in God's world, the world to come, estrangement is dysfunctional. By clinging to estrangement we condemn ourselves to flee God's Presence (Heaven), rather than to seek it. In God's world, the absence of God is the Outer Darkness (Hell). Fortunately God helps us with our problem.

God goes all the infinite way to rescue us. God becomes one of us (Jesus), not just to preach at us, but to live among us. God as Jesus shows us the depth of our estrangement by teaching us the error of our ways, and then letting us kill him out of our fear and rage at him. God as Jesus bestows on us the ultimate pardon — he undoes our murder of him by coming back to life. God as Jesus then promises to come for us when we enter God's world, to meet us person-to-person, to guide us to Himself as God.

Now for a Christian, the above two paragraphs sketch out the necessity and sufficiency of Christ for our salvation. But what of other faiths? Traditionally Christians have a model of salvation that works like a room with many doors. Pick the one with Jesus in front of it, and he will take you to Heaven. The rest lead to Hell. This creates tension with people of religions other than Christian. I prefer a model that works like a room with many doors, but with Jesus, in many different guises, opening every one of them. Hell is refusing to go through any door at all.

But the categories of Process Theology cannot be found in Barbour's book, that can accomodate a discussion of Christ as Redeemer. The God of Process Theology seems to me an idol of philosophers, and not the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, and Jesus.

Editor's Note: Process theology is an ongoing attempt to reconcile theology with modern science. Here is a definition from its adherents. It offers some interesting insights, but ultimately tries to stuff God into a box. It's different Fundamentalist's box, but it's still a box.

02 November 2000

Problems with Rich's Problems with Christianity and Religion




Problems with Problems with Christianity

If personality resides in the soul, then how can drugs and brain damage affect it?

We do not have souls — we are souls. We are not our personalities. Our personalities are mental constructs that we build in order to relate to each other and to ourselves. If your personality is destroyed you will survive in a state of "flat affect" until you build another one. I know. I've been there. So, I am unimpressed with your point about personality. Similarly, we are not our temperament, which is largely biochemically and neurologically determined, and which in turn strongly influences personalities we build around it.

A stronger and more fundamental point is that our phenomenal consciousness (our basic awareness of the phenomena in the world around us) can be severely affected by brain disorders or damage. For example, a stroke can literally take away not only one's ability to perceive anything in the left part of one's visual field, it can take away the very concept of left, and the memory that one once had the concept. Some stroke patients must turn 270 degrees to the right in order to get into a position they once would have managed by turning 90 degrees to the left. (See The Man Who Mistook his Wife for a Hat, by Oliver Sacks.) To me, that is a much stronger argument that our consciousness resides in our material brains.

On the other hand, perhaps our brains are "quantum switchboards" between our souls and our bodies, as argued in detail by neurophysiologist J. C. Eccles. (See for example, "Brain and Freewill," and "How Dogmatic can Materialism Be?" both by J. C. Eccles, in Consciousness and the Brain, Globus, Maxwell and Savodnik, eds., Plenum, New York, 1976.) Perhaps we just get so hooked into perceiving, thinking, and feeling with our wetware, that when it gets damaged, we get stuck working with a faulty interface. This suggests that the early stages of the after-life experience could be rather minimalist (including, suggestively, three days of unconsiousness), as portrayed in the Tibetan Book of the Dead.

Of course, that begs the question of what is a soul. My current guess is that since spacetime undergoes quantum oscillations on scales smaller than the so-called Planck Length, the quantum spacetime foam may sustain patterns complex enough to be called alive (our souls), just as much larger and less complex atoms can form structures complex enough to be called alive (our bodies).

Still, I must admit that since you are not attempting to give a proof, but are merely arguing from the weight of the evidence, you have the last word on this: The weight of the evidence points to our doom. Religion has an "in spite of" quality in this regard, called trotsdem by the German theologians.

Gods were invented by people to explain the universe. Science does that for us now, so we no longer need gods.

Science has also begun to realize the limits to which it can go. Goedel's theorem states that any non-trivial, self-consistent, finite set of axioms must be incomplete — i.e., within the confines of any such system, it is always possible to construct propositions whose truth or falsehood cannot be established. The implication for science is that there will always be unknowns, no matter how large a body of self-consistent, experimentally verified theory we construct. We can't "know it all" through the methods of science.

On the other hand, I need God for companionship rather than physics lessons. I recognize the the astrophysical account of cosmogenesis as factually true, but for my soul that truth is empty compared to the mythic truth of the Biblical account. That is, while I know that God did not make Man from the clay with His own hands, I feel that all of us were individually called into existence by God for his delight and suffering in us. Perhaps this is because I need to be desired by God, if only as his fool.

[BTW - Goedel's theorem also applies to morality: Within the confines of any finite set of moral laws, it will always be possible to put the moralist in a situation in which his or her actions will be morally ambiguous, at best. For me, this is why Forgiveness and Reconciliation are necessary for Justice.]

Science has shown the stories of creation and the flood to be false.

Science has shown them to be false as history, not as myth. The truth of myth is in its meaning for us, in the messages in its metaphors, that can stir in us a level of awareness that no other form of interpersonal communication can. That is to say, the truth of myth is not in the myth itself, but in the truth it awakens in the hearers or readers. And so I say that the accounts of the creation and the flood are true, just not literally so. Besides, the universe began with a "Let there be light" BIG BANG, and one school of paleobiologists believe that life began when certain kinds of clay with repeating layers served as a substrate on which primitive amino acids assembled into RNA-like self-replicating proteins (God making us from clay, as it were). Moreover, it seems that about 10,000 years ago there was a catastrophic refilling of the dry Mediterranean basin as the Atlantic spilled over the widening cliff that is now the Strait of Gibraltar (possibly giving rise to the Sumerian flood story). Coincidences perhaps, but kinda spooky, eh guy?

Why was demon possession common in Jesus' time, but hardly known in the Old Testament, and replaced today by the DSM-IIIR?

I don't feel it necessary to believe in demons in order to believe in God. What I do find interesting though, is that Jesus seemed to be an effective faith-healer. Whatever the problems of the people whom he encountered, he seemed to be able to relieve them of quite a few of them, which is impressive to me, even if their problems were psychosomatic. See, however, James Randi's The Faith Healers, and Monty Python's "The Life of Brian," for additional commentary. See also Delbanco's The Death of Satan, for what we lose when we lose the sense of evil.

There is no justification for eternal punishment in hell. Hell as described in the Bible is sadism.

Hell is not described in the Bible. It is alluded to. As for eternal punishment, I would like to be a Universalist — one who claims that EVERYONE will wind up with God in Heaven, no matter what. But without some special revelation to that effect, claiming so is as arrogant as the Fundamentalists who claim that nobody but themselves will go to Heaven (also not described in the Bible). So, I compromise and take the way out given by C. S. Lewis in his book, The Great Divorce. The people in hell choose to be there because they can't stand to fully know who they are before God. Therefore, they flee God's Presence, or at least their own awareness of it, and that flight is hell.

How can people be happy in heaven with loved ones in hell?

C. S. Lewis has an explanation in The Great Divorce, which I don't buy. You've got me on this one. It's why I am tempted to be a Universalist.

Christianity asserts that more than 50% of all people will go to hell.

Where the hell did you get that number? Christians assert all kinds of things, but the Bible is vague and contradictory about the number of the saved. I like to think it is because the numbers or percentages are "above our pay grade" to worry about. But it is easy to work oneself into so twisted up a state of personality that it would be painful to know oneself before God, i.e., to confess. I suspect that is the condition of the majority of the human race. I also suspect that in the end, we get a lot of help with that problem.

The Bible is vague and contradictory on the one point that should be most important: how to be saved.

Yes, Amen! "With men it is impossible, but with God all things are possible." Salvation would have to be a rather paltry thing to be reducible to a simple formula. For me as a Christian, it reduces to the moment in which Jesus says, "Follow me." Well, what does that mean? In the case of the disciples, the reaction was spontaneous and physical — they got up and went where Jesus went. For me in this latter day, it is something that is taking me a lifetime to understand and practice. Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his Cost of Discipleship gives the best explanation I know. [You may recall that Bonhoeffer was a Lutheran pastor who returned to Germany after the Nazi takeover, publicly opposed them, and was martyred in the concentration camps for doing so.]

The plan of redemption makes no sense. There are several theories about why Christ had to die, and all of them are unintelligible.

They all meet some psychological need on the part of some group of believers, however. See Freud's provocative but flawed, Moses and Monotheism for some roundabout hints concerning this one. In particular, considering how hard and painful this life can be, and that it is God's will that it be so, let us mention the idea that in Christ, [warning: heresy!] the current of atonement may flow both ways: as a man, he atones for humanity's capacity for evil, while as God, he atones for the hardness of our lives. The at-one-ment, the reconciliation of humanity and God, is that in Christ, God died for humanity and a man died for God. The reconciliation is completed by the resurrection — the forgiving and undoing of Christ's death, and the reuniting of humanity and divinity in him. I think that the incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection are a powerful message of salvation that proclaim the possibility of a common and good destiny for all of humanity. And the obligation on our part is as it always was, "to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with [our] God." But rather than thinking of it as obedience to an external power as the price of a ticket to paradise, I think of it as a spontaneous response to being loved and desired by God. And, unlike orgasms, if you don't feel it, there is no need to fake it.

The stories of the resurrection are inconsistent.

The eyewitness stories of any event immediately just past are usually inconsistent. Given that the Christian community didn't think to write their stories down until they were at least second-hand, what else would you expect? And yes, they didn't start writing anything down until the Apostles started dying off, because they thought that the world would end before the Apostles died. Only then did they realize that there might be descendants who would benefit from a written record.

It is unfair that some people got to witness physical proof of miracles while the rest of us are commanded to believe on hearsay.

Absolutely. I agree with Tom Paine that you need not believe hearsay. I side with Paul Tillich in asserting that there is an existential, experiential component of faith. And if you are not called to faith, maybe you are called to atheism.

Why did God design the world so that some animals have to eat other animals, why did he make gross and disgusting parasites, and why did he let the majority of all species that ever existed go extinct?

The world is such that a rational creature can figure out how to survive in it without having to propitiate God to make the sun rise every day. A rational, rather than a magical, world is a tough world, where God doesn't run to fix things for you whenever they don't go your way. As the Tao-Te Ching says, "Heaven and earth are ruthless, and treat all creatures like straw dogs." We get to live in a world in which we can do what we want without reference or deference to God, constrained only by physical reality —- by our needs, and prodded only by our pains. And since we seem to have evolved from prior living things, I make bold to state that evolution seems to be part of God's will, and with evolution come creatures that exploit every available ecological niche, (including parasitic and carniverous ones) and extinction of creatures when those niches change.

Jesus and his followers thought the end of the world was coming in one generation.

Indeed they did. So what? Jesus was God living life as an ordinary guy, with one or two extraordinary talents. One would hardly expect an ordinary guy to know the future.

There is no good reason to believe the canon while rejecting the apocrypha.

Whoa! Please see the introductions to the canonical books of the Bible and to the apocryphal books in the New Oxford Annotated Study Bible.

If one and only one religion is true why didn't God make it obvious to everyone which one it is.

Is one and only one religion true? I think all religions, as well as atheism, are contaminated with both truth and falsehood. I believe we are surrounded by truth too great to be contained in a finite number of dogmatic statements. I believe we cannot escape from the truth. I feel called to explore that truth as a Christian, but that doesn't prevent me from encouraging someone else to know the truth by a different, but effectively parallel path.

If God wanted us to have free will, why does he threaten us with hell? It isn't free will if you've got a gun at your head.

Isaac Bashevis Singer said, "We have to believe in free will — we have no choice." Let me ask you, would it be heaven for you if some really nasty evil son-of-a-bitch gets in and insists on remaining one? I think heaven is the presence of God, and the really nasty evil SOBs avoid it. Wherever else they go, that's hell.

God deliberately hardened Pharoah's heart against Moses and the Israelites. Why would God cause someone to sin? Why would God order the Israelites to commit genocide against the Canaanites?

Hardening Pharoah's heart is a pious turn of phrase. That's how the writers of Genesis and Exodus saw it. As for the order for genocide against the Canaanites — see the news accounts of the Kahane Chai party for how that one got started. I think that is the record of the self-righteous bigotry of the chosen people. The archeological evidence indicates that the surviving Canaanites managed to promulgate idol-worship among the Hebrews. And if you want to attain purity of a fledgling faith, you eliminate the non-believers, especially if you are a war-like and undiciplined tribe to begin with, and they are lovely ladies who want to raise the kids they have with you in their own religion. Otherwise stated: "The Jews are God's Chosen People, which is no great honor considering the competition."

There is evidence internal to the Bible that much of the pentateuch was a pious fraud conveniently discovered by priests in the time of King Josiah.

See Who Wrote the Bible by Richard Elliot Friedman for the full story on this one. One can go further — noting that Chronicles seems to be a whitewashed version of Kings, and the list goes on and on. So what? The Bible is not a single book — it is a library. It is the story of a people's attempt to be the people of God. It chronicles their failures as well as their successes, and their vain interpretations, as well as their inspired insights. It's all meant to be there for us in its wretchedness and in its glory. While many people debate the historical or scientific truth of this or that part of the Bible (and some parts bear up well in the light of recent archeological discoveries, while others do poorly), what really matters is the living Truth that the Bible can awaken in its readers and hearers.

Problems with Why I Believe there are no Gods

You have most definitely not defined God out of existence. (See The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams for how to do this with a Babel Fish.) What you have done is to amass a convincing weight of evidence that the god you expected (and at one time in your life wanted) does not exist. On the other hand, the god you once wanted was a concoction of the inner Freudian/Jungian "demons" haunting your former Christian community mixed with a few of your own. I think that we are both glad that that particular god is a fiction of fevered imagination. But you have yet to convince me, a former atheist, that there are no gods at all, including the God who is beyond all our imaginings and who comes to us as a complete surprise.


Rich Daniel, former Skeptic in Residence at VCBC, committed suicide in the early fall of 2000 A.D. In his memory, I reposted at VCBC two pieces he had sent me from his now defunct website, and with which I profoundly disagree. Here I post a rebuttal to those pieces that I emailed to Rich in 1996. My synopses of Rich's points are in italics, below which I state my counter-arguments. Occasionally, I first point out how he could have supported his position more strongly. Rich said he would think about these points. His fatal depression prevented his reply.

11 March 2000

Why I Believe There Are No Gods

by Rich Daniel

I'm not entirely satisfied with this yet. I've been accused of trying to define God out of existence. Let me think about it, and I'll get back to you. — RWD

The alt.atheism FAQs define "weak atheism" as a lack of belief in the existence of gods, while "strong atheism" is a positive belief in the non-existence of gods. I am a strong atheist.

First of all, before we can talk about whether gods exist, we have to define the meaning of the word, or at least characterize it by some minimal set of attributes. Obviously, if you say that a god is anything that anyone worships, then gods do exist (as idols, for instance). This is not a useful definition in our context.

Many people claim that god is omnipotent, omniscient, and omnibenevolent. In my opinion, we have very good evidence that this kind of god does not exist. If it did, there would be a lot less suffering in the world. Most theists object on the grounds that either (a) we deserve to suffer because we are sinful, or (b) the suffering is for our own good -- a learning experience (with the "benefits" usually reserved for the afterlife). The first objection is easily shown to be false by the fact that innocent children and animals suffer. The second is a little trickier, but I think the enormous amount of apparently gratuitous suffering in the world is strong evidence against the idea. What exactly are we supposed to learn from watching a loved one with Alzheimer's slowly lose his dignity and identity? Or from the existence of parasites which consume their host from the inside out, carefully leaving the vital organs for last.

In fact just the idea of omnipotence by itself is problematical. Can God make a rock so heavy that he can't lift it? Most theists get around this by saying that God can only do what is logically possible, but to my mind this means that omnipotence is an ill-defined word. Certainly Christians tend to claim that their God can do things which on closer examination seem to fall into the heavy rock category. For instance, God supposedly created beings with free will, and yet he somehow maintains control of the universe. If you pray for something (and truly believe, and it's not something bad) God is supposed to arrange things so it comes to pass, but with free will in the picture, it seems impossible to arrange this, even with perfect foreknowledge.

What about a god that doesn't have the big three omni-attributes? Well, my own personal minimalist definition of god is an intelligent being that is not subject to physical law or any analog thereof. If there were an eternally existent intelligent being that created our universe and designed our laws of physics, but was itself subject to some kind of physical laws, then I would not call that being a god.

In science we make the hypothesis that the universe behaves with regularity; that there is a set of physical laws which are true in all space and all time. (I believe Newton was the first person to come up with the idea that the planets were subject to the same laws as matter on Earth.) This idea has held up under extraordinary scrutiny, from the reactions that occur in very distant stars to the events during the first milliseconds of the Big Bang. Many scientists have speculated that other universes might exist with different physical laws, but if this were shown to be the case, they would immediately start looking for some more abstract set of laws which would be true for all universes.

The observed regularity of the universe is evidence (though not proof) that if a creator did exist, he would be subject to some kind of physical law, and therefore he would not be a god by my definition.
What about a tricky god that for some reason does not want us to have any evidence that he exists? While such a god is not logically impossible, I don't take this any more seriously than solipsism. Neither idea is useful for making predictions or even for explaining known phenomena, so Occam's Razor eliminates them.

Bear in mind that proof in the mathematical sense cannot be obtained for almost any fact of daily life which we take for granted. What we strive for is evidence. And in my opinion the evidence is overwhelmingly against the existence of gods.


Editor's Note: Richard W. Daniel, former Skeptic in Residence at VCBC, committed suicide in the early fall of 2000 A.D. In his memory, I repost here his defense of Strong Atheism which he sent me from his now defunct website, and with which I profoundly disagree. Here he speaks from his own experience as a sufferer from affective (emotional) disorders, which alter the state of one's "soul." It is ironic that when Rich and I were in school together, I (now Christian) was an atheist and he was a Christian Fundamentalist. See also Rich's: Problems with Christianity

Problems with Christianity

by Rich Daniel

Here are a few of the reasons I think Christianity is false. Note that some of these apply only to rabid fundamentalist versions of Christianity, while others are more general. — RWD

Neurophysiology makes a strong case for the non-existence of anything like an immaterial soul. If personality resides in the soul, then how can drugs and brain damage affect it?

What is it that makes people believe in God at all? It seems to me that gods were invented by men to explain things they didn't understand. But we understand a lot more today (though of course the frontiers of science are always speculative). Given that it's impossible to have an explanation for everything (because then that explanation would demand another explanation — "But Mommy, why is it that way?"), why not just take the universe as we find it, rather than positing some incredibly complex cause for which we have no evidence?

Science has shown the stories of creation and the flood to be false. (See the talk.origins FAQs.) I'm aware that many Christians have no problem accepting evolution, but for me it demolishes the most important argument for the existence of God. Not to mention the verbal, plenary inspiration of the Bible.

Why was "demon-possession" so common in Jesus' time, but hardly mentioned at all in the Old Testament, and apparently non-existent today? Modern medicine seems to have transformed demons into things like epilepsy and schizophrenia.

There is no justification for eternal torture in hell. Unremitting revenge debases those who practice it. (I have no problem with God snuffing people out of existence, but hell as described in the Bible is sadism.)

How can people be happy in heaven with loved ones in hell? Some say that God will take away their memories, but there are at least three problems with this: (1) this would be a huge violation of our rights; (2) by so doing God would tacitly admit that hell is wrong; and (3) in the story of the rich man and Lazarus, everyone's memories were intact.

Christianity asserts that more than 50% of the people in the world will go to hell. ("Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way that leadeth unto salvation, and few there be that find it.") This belief is morally repugnant. Surely an all-powerful God could have set up something different.

In the Old Testament, God ordered the genocide of the Canaanites, including infants. (In some cases he allowed them to keep the young virgin women alive — Numbers 31:17-18.) How can this be reconciled with the idea of a just and merciful God?

The Bible does not plainly and unambiguously tell us the single most important thing we supposedly have to know: how to be saved. As evidence, I submit the many Christian sects which disagree heatedly on this point. In one place it says, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." In another, it says, "Faith without works is dead." A few sects believe that if you're not baptized you'll go to hell.

The plan of redemption makes no sense. There are several theories about why Christ had to die, and all of them are unintelligible.

The stories of the resurrection are not consistent.

It is unfair that some people (Thomas, for example) should get convincing physical proof of miracles while the rest of us are supposed to believe on hearsay.

Why did God design the world so that some animals have to eat meat? Why did he create parasites? Why do innocent animals suffer?

Why did God create so many species only to allow most of them to become extinct before man even existed?

Matt. 16:27-28: "For the Son of man shall come in the glory of his Father with his angels; and then he shall reward every man according to his works. Verily I say unto you, There be some standing here which shall not taste of death, till they see the Son of man coming in his kingdom." Jesus thought the end of the world was coming within one generation.

There is no good reason to believe the canonical books of the Bible while rejecting the apocrypha. The canon was only gradually agreed upon, and finally formalized by a vote. Early church fathers quoted extensively from apocrypha.

Most people believe the religion of their parents. If one and only one religion is true, why did God not make it obvious to all nations alike?

Even if there is a creator of the universe, why does he want to be worshipped? God is an egomaniac?
If God wanted us to have free will, why does he threaten us with hell? It isn't free will if you've got a gun at your head.

Romans 9:15-23 says that God deliberately causes sinners to sin. (For instance, he hardened Pharoah's heart.)

There is evidence inside the Bible itself that much of the Old Testament was not written until the time of Josiah. (II Kings 22:8+, in which the book of the law is conveniently "found" in the temple, and contains some laws that apparently nobody had ever heard of before).

Editor's Note: Richard W. Daniel, former Skeptic in Residence at VCBC, committed suicide in the early fall of 2000 A.D. In his memory, I repost here his critique of Christianity that he sent me from his now defunct website, and with which I profoundly disagree. Here he speaks from his own experience as a former Christian Fundamentalist, and a sufferer from affective (emotional) disorders, which alter the state of one's "soul." See also Rich's: Why I Believe there are no Gods

18 February 1995

Marks of Modern Sainthood

Remembering the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

A hero, Martin Luther King, Jr. confronted death with courage: a saint, he enriched the souls of even his bitterest enemies. The same can be said of his Islamic alter ego, Malcolm X — Mr. X was less intentional about the second attribute, but he did do it, and toward the end, he was certainly coming around. But we are here to remember Martin — Malcolm has yet to have his day.

Of the life and times of Dr. King, we can read David Garrow's Bearing the Cross, of King's words, we can read his Testament of Hope. Rather than dwell on what can best be dwelt on elsewhere, I would like to reflect on how this man changed the face of racism in America during his short life, and how he served God.

A more-or-less overt racism used to be one of the "conversational cues" by which all good white people could tell that they shared a common set of values, and thus that they could associate safely with one another. In sociological terms, it was a sign that one shared the mythological self-understanding of the white tribe. "Of course, they live in their part of town, and we live in ours." Of course.

Now that same racism is a sign of stupidity, stubborness, and psychopathology. It is expressed only by those so low in the social strata, or so low in self-esteem, that they feel themselves to be beneath everyone except an imagined other.

White racism has changed from a fortified wall — you could get over it or around it, but they'd shoot you if they saw you — to a sea of jello: you can get through it, but the going is slow and difficult. Racism is gone from the really big things like voting, but it survives in the little things like getting stopped for DWB - Driving while Black, and the little things add up. Generally speaking, they still live in their part of town, and we still live in ours. Of course.

The little things, which when taken together often add up to economic things, were what Dr. King had begun to work on toward the end. That struggle continues to be waged today. The presence of a growing black middle class is evidence that it is being won.

The presence of black ghettos is evidence that for many, it is also being lost. The combination of race and class can still be dangerous — poor young black men are still more likely than members of any other group to wind up in the criminal justice system, and — more to the point — to die while in police custody. [Note added 2016: or at the hands of police - yes, Black Lives Matter.]

Nevertheless, a profound change for the better has been effected. In large part, it was effected by a single man, who despite his casual extramarital encounters, had proved himself to be the moral and intellectual superior of both his detractors and supporters. For Dr. King went where the Spirit led him, and did what he was led to do, even unto death, unto bearing the Cross. And he did it with a Shakespearean, a Biblical command of the language of all his people - black and white. Like Shakespeare and the Bible, his phrases ring in our hearts, "I have a dream," and "not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character," and, "How long? Not long — because the arc of the moral Universe is long, but it bends toward justice." And in the end, "I may not get there with you, but I have seen the Promised Land!"

A hero, he confronted death with courage: a saint, he enriched the souls of even his bitterest enemies. We are all better off for his having been among us, for his having preached to us. Even those of us who were only children then, or who were not there at all, miss him.

06 November 1990

Obscenity and Peace

Meditations on the Morality of Nuclear Weapons Work
revised 1994
Is life so dear or peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it Almighty God! I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death! - Patrick Henry, House of Burgesses, VA, 1775
I am become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds. - Bhagavad Gita 11:32, as rquoted by J. Robert Oppenheimer, at humanity's first nuclear explosion, 1945

Looking Forward

We are now living in the "post-Communist" era, whose shape is only beginning to be delineated. Regional or "tribal" conflict rather than peace seems to be at hand, as proliferant nations attempt to acquire weapons of mass destruction. Still, it is a good time to reconsider our over-reliance on nuclear weapons, and the role played by three of our National Laboratories (Los Alamos, Livermore, and Sandia) in developing and maintaining them.

But there is an unspoken ethical problem that underlies and distorts this reconsideration: namely, the notion that nuclear weapons are evil, and that the people who work on them or support work on them are evil as well. Such a "deontologist" ethic assumes that because the consequences of using nuclear weapons are evil, threatening to use them is evil. Since threatening to use them consists of designing them, building them, testing them, stockpiling them, deploying them, and establishing plans to use them under certain circumstances, these activities are also taken to be evil.

The naive solution is to remove this evil from our midst. Hence the recurring debate on campus every time the University of California's contract to manage Los Alamos and Livermore Labs comes up for renewal. The moral fallacy behind such attempts to dissociate ourselves as a society from nuclear weapons — that by trying to remove evil, we can in fact do evil — is my thesis here. To develop it, I chart a course into the morality of our global society, our country, and the human soul. My soul in particular, because I did research that contributed marginally to the design of nuclear weapons.

Before I begin, I note that those who support nuclear weapons work usually employ a "consequentialist" ethic which states that, if threatening to use nuclear weapons prevents certain kinds of war, then it is necessary, if not actually good, to make such threats. The difference between the two positions is that deontologists consider it evil to threaten to do evil, regardless of what results from such threats, while consequentialists consider it good to make such threats if the result of the threats is good. [1]

Now the same people who oppose nuclear weapons work with deontologist ethics usually take a consequentialist position when it comes to race: whether or not a policy is racist is judged by its results, rather than its intent. My point is that neither deontology nor consequentialism can claim to be a universal source of moral imperative — we switch from one to another to suit our needs, according to our "gut feel" for a given situation.

This is not to denigrate our emotions. "Gut feel" in the form of some ultimate concern, rather than reason, is the source of moral imperative. On the other hand, "gut feel" is usually incapable of the self-analysis and criticism that reason provides. In other words, our emotions may provide the motor for our conduct, but I think it best to let reason do the steering.

In that vein, I attempt to address both emotional and intellectual considerations below. I begin with scenes from my personal experience, in order further to identify myself to you, the reader, and to illustrate in simplest terms why I do what I do. I go on to develop a formula for making peace that includes deterrence as one of its components, and proceed to argue its morality from various viewpoints. Ultimately, I agree that our having nuclear weapons illustrates something really ugly about us as a global society. But rather than hide from that truth, we need to change who we are.

Bees and Bullies

"One of my friends was given a koan, a puzzle to awaken intelligence, by a Zen master, 'What does the precept, 'No killing,' mean?'" I said as I carefully poured a glass of ice water onto a picnic table, liberating the annoying bee my colleague had swatted into it. "But we kill constantly in order to live — we kill everything we eat, and we kill nearly every microorganism that has the misfortune to enter our bodies." I warmed the bee with my hand until it flew harmlessly away. "And yet we are told, 'Thou shalt not to kill.'" A stunned silence followed. I had shown my colleague that killing a bee, just because we fear its sting, is obscene.

That was ten years ago. Now I'm a physicist who has done research related to nuclear weapons design, and some of my own relatives think obscenity is what I used to do for a living. How can the boy who saved the bee make bombs? Let me give another scene from my past.

I was twelve, and it was the end of my first day back to school after my Dad's funeral. An older boy sat next to me on the bus.

"Are you the one whose father died?" he asked after the bus started.

"Yes," I managed, verging on tears.

"Do you know what he died of?" he persisted.

"A heart attack," I sobbed.

"No, he didn't. He died from suckin' too many dicks!"

I was too stunned to reply, and too afraid. This fellow was twice my size, and could hurt me far more than I could possibly hurt him. I tried to give him as little cause for anger as I could. He goaded me until my stop, and got off the bus with me.

"I'm gonna punch you," he said, "right in the goddam stomach."

I don't remember receiving the blow. Either he slugged me repeatedly as we walked, or I managed to keep him talking so that he didn't get around to it. In any case, my friends finally noticed us, surrounded the fellow, and began interrogating him. Of the things they learned about him, the one relevant for this discussion is that he lived several miles from my stop. They warned him to stay away from the neighborhood, and let him walk home unmolested. They let me walk home alone, too, now humiliated, shocked, and confused, in addition to grieved.

That which we most wish to deny in ourselves, we seek to destroy in others. It is a theme in human history, written in blood, sounded with gunfire. The variation for the fellow above might be, "I am not weak! See, I crush the weak!" Freudians call it projection. Maybe he went in for a little class hatred (I was a doctor's kid), maybe he was abused. Further analysis of his character should be done cautiously, because it may be at the peril of your soul. He was flirting with becoming evil.[2] The point is that he singled me out for his evil, hunted me down, and went miles out of his way because I was weak — or in military terminology, vulnerable.

I began learning how to respond to such people a few years later, when I was in high school. Another bully suddenly assaulted me shouting, "You've been sayin' stuff about me, haven't you?"

I jerked my hands from my pockets, and looked him in the eyes. "I haven't been saying anything about you, and you know it. You may be looking for trouble, but I'm not." My stance and my demeanor made it clear that I had endured the humiliation of backing down one time too many.

He let me go, and stopped picking on me altogether. He wasn't afraid of me — he could have lifted me over his head with one hand — he was just no longer interested in me. I had taken the attraction out of the game. I was no longer the one whom he wanted to destroy. Military people call it deterrence.

Now the dark side of deterrence is that I had acted in a way that looked like that of the bully. I had exhibited physical courage and a willingness to fight, which helped the bully identify with me. In his eyes, I became a male like him (one of "us") rather than an alternative type of male (one of "them") whose existence challenged (and shamed?) the idea that his type of male identity was the only one possible or desirable. In other words, he thought he had effectively socialized me to participate in his definition of manhood. And I suppose that, to some extent, he had.

Still, it is worth noting that neither of the above encounters ended in violence against the aggressor. The aggressor was merely deterred from further aggression by a willingness to fight, on the part of my friends or myself. In both cases, the bully was shown that, "If you act crazy (violently), we/I will match your craziness." In both cases, that was enough. Such a reaction is neither passive nor aggressive — it is assertive. [3]

Of course, if deterrence is not enough, if your opponent is that crazy, what do you do? Running away may work for individuals, but not for nations, so I will neglect that option. Negotiation is also unworkable, because you can't reason with bullies. They exhibit a kind of willful mindlessness, a demonic will to unconsciousness. They don't negotiate back, they merely use your forbearance to buy time and opportunity to get at you, or to get around you — like Hitler did, while Chamberlain declared, "peace in our time." You assert your position, and set some limits. And if they exceed your limits, you use force.

But is it moral to use force? Those of us who might contemplate calling the police in order to stop a murder must believe that occasionally it is. Further, I maintain that sometimes it may be immoral to do anything else. Remember that Hitler could have been stopped easily by a show of force when he threatened to annex the Sudetenland. That force was not brought to bear in a timely manner is due largely to the pacifist sentiment in Europe and America at the time. Instead of engaging in a minor military expedition which would have forced Hitler to back down, to lose face, and ultimately to lose political power, the world passively sold out Czechoslovakia to him, paving the way for a much more prolonged and bloody conflict later — a conflict that resulted in the development of the first atomic bombs. In other words, I think a reflexive pacifism is no more entitled to a presumption of moral innocence than nuclear weapons work, and that pacifism applied in the wrong way at the wrong time contributed to the development of the nuclear weapons that pacifists now find so abhorrent. In short, pacifism can sometimes help to make wars bigger and worse than they have to be.

That said, I admit that I admire non-violent resistance. [4] Remember, however, that non-violent resistance is a sophisticated technique that works only when used by the "right" people at the "right" time against the "right" opponents. For example, the Indians successfully used non-violent resistance to persuade the British to end the Raj, because the British eventually acknowledged that the Indians, led by the British-educated Gandhi, were human beings like themselves.

The Nazis, who with their "Master Race" ideology admitted only so-called "Aryans" to the category of human, provide an example counter to that of the British. There were some successful acts of non-violent confrontation against the Nazis, like King Christian of Denmark's public declaration that he would wear the yellow star if it were introduced in his country. He did so in response to the Nazi practice of ordering Jews to wear yellow-starred armbands so that the Nazis could more easily isolate them from their surrounding society. That many Danes followed their king's example helped camouflage many Jews until they could escape to Sweden in fishing boats. [5] Now this resistance worked partly because the Nazis considered the Danes to be "Aryans" like themselves. Had the Poles tried the same thing, the Nazis would have been perfectly happy to use the event as an excuse for liquidating more Poles. Rather than awaken the Nazis' moral sense, non-violent confrontation on the part of the Poles would probably have enabled the Nazis to carry out their agenda in Poland more easily. The other reason these acts succeeded was that overwhelming violence of the Allies had stretched the Nazi forces too thin to suppress massive action by a whole populace, and eventually deprived the Nazis of the time they needed to find other ways to carry out their "final solution."

In other words, non-violence resistance alone would have been very slow to work against the Nazis, once they had consolidated their power. And while it slowly ground away at the evil in the Nazi soul, how many millions more would have died, and how much extra time would have been given to Nazi scientists trying to invent atomic bombs to go on those V-2 rockets? The evil of Nazism may well have expended itself, but perhaps after a real "thousand-year Reich," leaving a world populated only by blue-eyed blondes. In other words, if the world had used non-violence alone against the Nazis, the results may have been much worse those of the war.[6]

Even when non-violence does succeed, it does so by rallying the majority of the population toward whom it is directed to stop the direct perpetrators of injustice by force — the force of law in the form of the police, the prisons, and the polls — force that necessarily includes the threat of violence. In other words, non-violent resistance harnesses (or co-opts), rather than eliminates violence.

In fact, non-violence is sometimes even helped by the threat of violence to achieve its objectives. The non-violence of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was complemented by the willingness to use "any means necessary" of Malcolm X. These two men were sending white America the same message concerning justice and racial equality. If whites failed to respond to the message stated gently, whites would be given the opportunity to respond to it stated violently. It took both statements to achieve the progress made thus far.

Now, in situations in which the bully can be overcome by violence and non-violence is hopeless, non-violence can amount to a kind of self-righteous passivity. That is, I may preserve my own sense of moral purity by adhering to non-violence, but it is sometimes far from clear that I am actually doing good. In such cases fighting is not an aggressive effort to destroy the bully, but an assertive attempt to stop the bully from bullying. World War II was ultimately that kind of moral struggle — neither Germany nor Japan was destroyed — they were merely forced to surrender. Now they are among the most economically powerful nations in the world. (One difference between aggressive and assertive use of military power is how you treat your opponents when you win.)

So, I think it is consistent for me to save the bee and to stand up to the bully. After all, if the bee's life is worth something, so is mine, and so is that of the bully. On the international level nuclear weapons are the horrifying alternative to such assertive valuing of life. Their potential for raising the violence of World Wars to universally unacceptable levels has prevented nations, including my own, from starting one for nearly fifty years. Pax Nucleus. Dangerous, but better than another World War. And an expression of our human nature.[7]

The Family of Nations

Some people argue that the goal of civilization is to raise our children so that wars don't happen. Unfortunately, we've had civilization for six thousand years, and our history has been as dysfunctional as our families. The only thing that's ever made us pause in our societal "addiction" to war is nuclear weaponry, and the realization that the next big war may kill us all.

But if war is humanity's heroin, nuclear weaponry is its methadone. That is, the treatment has potentially dangerous side effects. I am partly referring to the doctrine of deterrence by Mutual Assured Destruction, MAD. It is MAD, because it is intrinsically unstable, as those who lived through the Cuban Missile Crisis may recall. The Strategic Defense Initiative, (or Star Wars) was an attempt to move toward something more stable, and its successor, the Ballistic Missile Defense Organization (BMDO), may in time succeed, provided it is managed as a research program rather than as a political football. But even a successful BMD will not make the world stable against massively destructive war — it will merely make it more stable than it is now. BMD is a technical fix that does not address the real cause of the instability.

As long as war is the ultimate arbiter of international disputes, nations will arm themselves with ultimate weapons. And that means, that if something worse than nuclear weapons can be discovered and developed, it will be. And then we will find something worse than that, and so on perhaps until we, ourselves, prematurely punctuate the end of our universe with as big a bang as the one which began it. Nuclear weapons may actually be giving us a chance to learn to get along with each other before we get something really dangerous, a kind of world-historical warning shot.[8] The problem is not nuclear weapons, the problem is war.

Yes I know — I sound like the NRA, "Guns don't kill people. People kill people." I'm making a different argument. If you take a gun from a homicidal individual, he or she will usually not invent and build something worse. Nations will, whether or not you take away their nuclear weapons.

Now if the problem is war, the solution is peace, which nuclear deterrence by itself cannot achieve. Nuclear deterrence brings about only the absence of certain kinds of war.[9] Perhaps we can look for an opportunity to go beyond deterrence. Perhaps we can look at the international situation and the conditions necessary for peace.

During the Cold War, the military posture of the US and the Soviet Union was compared to that of two boys sitting in a pool of gasoline and threatening each other with matches. I suggest a more descriptive simile would be to imagine our countries as partners in a poorly arranged marriage on a one-hut island. God knows we would never have chosen each other, but divorce was not an option, because there was no place else to go. Neither was shooting our spouse. The only gun we had was a shotgun (our nuclear arsenal), and its pellets (environmental damage) would have ricocheted and hit us and the kids. The spouse had a shotgun, too, and quick enough reflexes to shoot back. In the middle of this impasse, the children got tired of being used by the parents to get at each other, and became hard to control. Some began to play the parents against one another, or against the other kids. Some of the kids made their own shotguns in an effort to be grown up and push the other kids around. Meanwhile the price of weaponry kept going up, and our other needs — taking care of the hut and island — became more pressing as the place kept getting more crowded.

Now one spouse has died, leaving her shotgun to her descendants, and family relations are a mess. At least since we've had shotguns around, no free-for-all knife fights (conventional World Wars) have broken out. The question now is to what extent we and the former Soviet forces can put down our nuclear "shotguns" without encouraging the "naughty child" nations who have made or are planning to make "shotguns" of their own to see what they can do with them.

The simile makes it clear that we need to work on international relationships. The relations between countries are often abusive affairs, in which power elites cynically use their own and other countries for short term gain. Lasting trust under such circumstances is unlikely. War is not. Just as peace cannot exist in a family in which members abuse one another, world peace cannot coexist with tyranny — of governments over people, or of governments over one another. Ultimately, we will choose one of Patrick Henry's alternatives. It will be liberty, or it will be death, whether we like it or not.

It will also be power, or rather empowerment of the powerless. Of course, established power groups fear empowering someone else. As the saying goes, "One with a full house rarely asks for a new deal." Consider how we Americans are doing with economic empowerment of our embattled inner-city black communities. [10] When people die younger and are incarcerated more frequently than their neighbors, they are not at peace, nor can they let their neighbors be. Federal programs can help, but making peace will take personal involvement, neighbor to neighbor. And deterrence of those who would attack their neighbors. [11]

Internationally, peace requires empowerment of some groups that seem eager to earn the hatred of the civilized world — like the Palestinians. Now that nuclear deterrence and economic necessity have combined to bring about more freedom, empowerment, and therefore peace in Europe, the Middle East is one of the next hot-spots for triggering a nuclear war. In order to have peace, the world must empower the Palestinians to determine their political and economic destiny, while at the same time it must deter them from warring with Israel. Such empowerment and deterrence will require the active involvement of the Islamic nations who thus far have been unwilling to empower the Palestinians to engage in much beyond stone-throwing and terrorism. May the Palestinians awaken to how they have been used by their brethren.

So we need to make peace, at home and abroad. Before you demonstrate to make your town a nuclear-free zone or to stop nuclear testing, [12] consider what you can do to enlarge someone's freedom, or to help them obtain the power to determine a better life for themselves. In other words, rather than fight against nuclear weapons or even against war, try making peace.

Meanwhile, I do what I can to make waging unlimited war dangerous, and preparation for it expensive. I can provide palliative treatment, but you, physicians/patients, must heal yourselves. Or to put it more bluntly, as long as we continue to express our human nature in disenfranchising, disempowering ways, we will cling to armament — nuclear or worse — to distance ourselves from our own nearness to war.

That White-Hot Morning

Of course, theorizing about the role of nuclear weapons in deterring all-out war long enough for economic pressure, public sentiment, and common sense to bring about enfranchisement, empowerment, and peace doesn't answer the question for some of my friends and family.

"Don't you feel like a whore?" one of them asked. If I worked only for the money, then I would. I consider my time, which I give up forever, to be more precious than the bodily contact a prostitute merely loans for his or her income. And I think it is a kind of pimp who compels his or her employees to work only for the money. At least, that is how I felt about the private-sector job I held before I came to my present position. [13]

But my friend was referring to the moral stain she perceives me to take upon my soul by associating with an industry of potential mass death and destruction. She believes that I am selling out by doing physics associated with instruments of doom. Permit me to rephrase her question to read, "How will you feel, on that white-hot morning, when the bombs fall, when we all die because of your handiwork? Don't you realize that if you and everyone like you just quit supporting this industry, it couldn't happen?"

I could say that if I didn't do it, someone else would, but that answer was rejected at Nuremberg. (It's also a better reason to leave the weapons program than to stay.) I continue to support the nuclear weapons business with my effort for many reasons, which I discuss throughout this piece. But mostly, I do it because the fear of nuclear holocaust is the only authority my own country or any other has respected so far when it comes to nationalistic urges to make unlimited war. As William L. Shirer states in his preface to The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich (Touchstone Books, New York, 1990),

"Adolf Hitler is probably the last of the great adventurer-conquerors in the tradition of Alexander, Caesar, and Napoleon, and the Third Reich the last of the empires which set out on the path taken earlier by France, Rome and Macedonia. The curtain was rung down on that phase of history, at least, by the sudden invention of the hydrogen bomb, of the ballistic missile, and of rockets which can be aimed to hit the moon."

Now this contrasts with the argument of those who would "reinvent government" by putting up bureaucratic roadblocks to maintaining the reliability of the US nuclear arsenal through research and testing. They reason that if the reliability of everyone's nuclear arsenals declines, everyone will be less likely to try using them. The problem is that some "adventurer-conqueror" may arise and use everyone's doubt about their arsenals to risk massive conventional war instead. An expansionist dictatorship might even risk nuclear war with weapons that are simpler, cruder, less powerful, much riskier (in terms of the possibility of accidental detonation) but much more reliable than our own may eventually become without adequate "stockpile stewardship."[14]

But the inhibitory effect of reliable nuclear weapons goes deeper than Shirer's deterrence of adventurer-conquerors. It changes the way we think individually and culturally, preparing us for a future we cannot now imagine. Jungian psychiatrist Anthony J. Stevens states, [15]

"History would indicate that people cannot rise above their narrow sectarian concerns without some overwhelming paroxysm. It took the War of Independence and the Civil War to forge the United States, World War I to create the League of Nations, World War II to create the United Nations Organization and the European Economic Community. Only catastrophe, it seems, forces people to take the wider view.

Or what about fear? Can the horror which we all experience when we contemplate the possibility of nuclear extinction mobilize in us sufficient libidinal energy to resist the archetypes of war? Certainly, the moment we become blasé about the possibility of holocaust we are lost. As long as horror of nuclear exchange remains uppermost we can recognize that nothing is worth it. War becomes the impossible option. Perhaps horror, the experience of horror, the consciousness of horror, is our only hope. Perhaps horror alone will enable us to overcome the otherwise invincible attraction of war."

Thus I also continue engaging in nuclear weapons work to help fire that world-historical warning shot I mentioned above, namely, that as our beneficial technologies become more powerful, so will our weapons technologies, unless genuine peace precludes it. We must build a future more peaceful than our past, if we are to have a future at all, with or without nuclear weapons — a fact we had better learn before worse things than nuclear weapons are invented. If you're a philosopher, this means that I regard the nature of humankind as mutable rather than fixed, but that I think most people welcome change in their personalities and cultures with all the enthusiasm that they welcome death — thus, the fear of nuclear annihilation of ourselves and all our values may be what we require in order to become peaceful enough to survive our future technological breakthroughs.[16]

In other words, when the peace movement tells the world that we need to treat each other more kindly, I and my colleagues stand behind it (like Malcolm X stood behind Martin Luther King, Jr.) saying, "Or else." We provide the peace movement with a needed sense of urgency that it might otherwise lack.

Now I admit that scaring people into becoming more peaceful smacks of terrorism. After all, using fear to coerce behavior is what terrorism is about. But if scaring people enough to stop them from making world war is terrorism, it's of a paradoxical sort, considering the terror of world war itself. It's similar to the 1994 "terrorism" of UN troops stopping the war in Somalia long enough to feed people. That is, the difference between deterrence and terrorism is the difference between forcefully confronting a bully and being one. Further, I suggest that those who deny the existence of such a distinction may be part of the problem of war rather than part of its solution.

Some people may think I have failed to put enough distance between my livelihood and terrorism — that hated word. To them I say that sometimes people become hated by some of their brothers and sisters in order to stimulate them to achieve a greater level of self-insight. Since I began this discussion with a friend comparing me to a whore, I mention for example the Hebrew prophet Hosea, who married a whore to make a point about the behavior of his community. I will return to this theme later.

For now I condemn real terrorism in the strongest terms — nuclear weapons work is what activities like terrorism lead to, more than it is terrorism itself. I also note that terrorism never achieves positive change. Such change is brought by peace-making initiatives that address the situation in which the terrorism arose, and that ultimately erode its popular support. Similarly, the threat of nuclear annihilation will change the course of history only if we, the people, respond to it by making peace. Otherwise we will continue on a path of self-destruction, whether we do it with nuclear weapons, or with some technology yet to be discovered.

"But face it," another friend said, "if you're not engaged in terrorism, you're at least making war. The whole war/violence/anger/hate business is like a giant tiger, and you're feeding it."[17] Put another way, she sees the institution I work for as allied with the forces of death, and therefore demonic. Now all human institutions are demonic to the extent that their members seek to preserve the institutions at the spiritual or physical expense of people or nature. Our cultural institutions (including our churches and governments) are what St. Paul called "the principalities and the powers" that rule this world (Titus 3:1) which we are to heal rather than abandon or destroy. [18] At work I offer my opinions to my colleagues and superiors in hope of constructively influencing their decision making, and I recommend that you do the same for your demonic institutions.

Of course, the constructive influence argument could have been used by Rabbis governing ghettos for the Nazis[19] — they helped to reduce the short term death rate, but they also made it easier for the Nazis to maintain control. But this situation is different — we now confront potential enemies with enough force to convince them that they have no hope of seizing control of the world in the first place. So I help maintain that deterrence, a paradoxical, insufficient, but necessary part of making peace. I do other parts in my spare time.

Still, there is the notion that because I did research related to nuclear weapons, I deserve a greater portion of guilt for what happens if they are used. Let me point out that even the anti-nuclear activists contribute to the nuclear weapons business, because they make war on nuclear weapons instead of making peace. They are shooting the bearer of the bad news that we can't make global war safely anymore. It's as if they want war to be safer, so that humanity can continue as before, making wars that only kill some of us. I hand them back the guilt[20] some of them wish to hand me.

In particular, I sometimes consider those who engage in anti-war or anti-nuclear actions (including some scientists who eschew defense research for moral reasons) without ever doing any actual peace-making to be in the same category that Dante seems to have placed Pope Celestine V. Celestine apparently abdicated the papacy out of fear that the worldliness that one must take on as Pope would jeopardize his salvation. Of him and his kind Dante says, [21]


...These are the nearly soulless,
whose lives concluded neither blame nor praise.

They are mixed here with that despicable corps
of angels who were neither for God nor Satan,
but only for themselves. The High Creator

scourged them from Heaven for its perfect beauty,
and Hell will not receive them since the wicked
might feel some glory over them.

In other words, I think that those who engage in peace protests without engaging in the enfranchisement of the disenfranchised, the empowerment of the powerless, and the deterrence of the willfully destructive may be serving their own desire to be morally pure, more than the cause of peace. Instead of acknowledging the difference between forcefully confronting a bully and being one, they advocate passivity, which just encourages the bully.

I hand you a hunk of guilt, too. You can't turn it down by worrying about what I do for a living. You can only turn it down by making peace. Start close to home. Do anything peacemaking. Learn ways to defuse your own anger. Show a poor kid how you do a home or car repair. Hug a person with AIDS. Ask your neighbors how they're doing and stick around for their answers. Anything at all. (You see, the opposite of peace is violence, which can be bred by neglect.) Start small and grow your effort. Grow yourself into someone who can think and act constructively regarding the US and the CIS, the Middle East, Central and South America, India and Pakistan, Southeast Asia, China, Africa, etc.

And sure, I'll feel horrible if that white-hot morning comes. We all will.

Preserving the Present Danger

Now if we want to make peace, much of the anti-nuclear movement distracts us from it by making war on war and pretending that it is making peace. Still, anti-nuclear activists do us a good turn by reminding us that maintaining an up-to-date nuclear arsenal is dangerous and expensive. The sooner we can get rid of it, the better.[22]

And we are getting rid of a large part of it. In business terms, nuclear weapons are a mature product line in a declining market, at least in the US and the former Soviet Union. Our arsenal is no longer needed at its present size to deter the Russian threat, nor in its present form to deter the emerging threat from third world proliferants.

But most anti-nuclear activists can't wait for what are essentially market forces to reduce our stockpile of nuclear weapons. They want disarmament NOW, regardless of the possibility that the present world without nuclear weapons may be unstable against conventional world war.

They are also oblivious to the idea that even a nuclear test ban can carry some risk to future generations. If the comprehensive test moratorium of the early sixties had held, we would have more multi-megaton weapons and more total megatons of explosive capability in the US and CIS arsenals than we do today. In other words, the world grew technically safer from nuclear winter during the cold war because of continued nuclear testing of new nuclear designs. Moreover, consider the devices that are incorporated into nuclear weapons to prevent their unauthorized use: how can we trust that they actually can prevent such use without testing them? Now the proliferation of nuclear weapons may make it necessary for us to develop ways to detect[23] and flexible responses to deter nuclear terrorism (including ways to disable terrorist nuclear explosives). I would hesitate to preclude such development given the present state of the world.

The anti-nuclear movement proposes to do just that, however. Recently proponents of Measure A, the nuclear-free zone initiative on the Alameda County, CA, ballot tried to make it illegal to design nuclear weapons at Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory within five years. The irony of this self-righteous measure is that it would have frozen the world at its present level of danger, instead of leaving it free to move carefully to a lower one.

And there is more to it than that. The Alameda County measure would have created a 15-member Nuclear Free Zone Commission complete with the power to hold McCarthy-style hearings, to make Blacklists, to determine educational curricula, and to institute unspecified five-year economic plans. If peacemaking is empowerment and enfranchisement, this is its opposite — it is a bid by a single-issue political group for power and control over others, pursued with the self-righteous religious fervor of the Inquisition.

Anti-nuclear activism [24] is indeed practiced as religion each Good Friday, when dozens of protesters picket the Laboratory. In their implied accusation they forget that, according to Christianity, we humans all stand together on the same side of the Cross — the one the nails go in. [25] (It's part of our human condition, and our blindness to it causes us to need our nuclear deterrent to refrain from world war.) As the Buddhist monk and peace-activist Thich Nhat Hanh remarked, "In the Peace movement there is a lot of anger, frustration, and misunderstanding. The peace movement can write very good protest letters, but they are not yet able to write a love letter." [26]

Between Good and Evil

Two years ago my wife and I attended a conference at the Center for Theology and the Natural Sciences of the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley, CA. [27] When I replied to a fellow participant there that I work in a nuclear weapons lab, she practically jumped back from me. "I suppose a Lutheran could do that," she muttered, only half concealing her loathing.

Perhaps she was projecting, like the bullies of my youth. Perhaps she so badly needs to see herself as a peacemaker that she kills war in other people. In any case, she has a problem with nuclear weapons and the people who make them. But the real problem is not nuclear weapons — the problem is war, as I have said. In particular, it is the war-maker in every human soul.

The Talmudists noted that every human has two impulses, the evil, selfish impulse, yezer ra, and the good, altruistic impulse, yezer tov. [28] The evil impulse is necessary because, in normal circumstances, it helps us to be self-interested enough to procure food and raise families. It is only when it is overly indulged in that it becomes dangerous. Rather than to be excised, the evil impulse is to be brought into balance with yezer tov, and used as a tool for good. (Just as non-violent resistance harnesses rather than eliminates violence.)

With the above statement as background I observe that many peace activists confront the evil impulse in the powers of war with the evil impulse in themselves. They rightly see nuclear war as a threat to the planet, and therefore a threat to themselves and humanity, and so confront the threat of violence with anger. Such an attitude is self-defeating, because acting from it creates more conflict, rather than less. Rather than making peace, such action merely makes war on war.

Now the peace activists didn't invent this type of response. In the same spirit, nuclear weapons were first invented by good people who were confronting the evil of the Nazis (who were trying to develop their own atomic bomb) with the evil impulse in themselves. And by continuing to develop and/or maintain a stockpile of them we give our assent to this evil impulse. I give my assent.

I give it because in response to the Nazis, I would have done the same thing. In response to Stalinism, I would also have done as my predecessors did. I believe that Nazism had to be defeated at all costs, and Stalinism had to be contained, in order to preserve and enlarge the freedoms that I hold dear for myself and for all people. Such a response satisfies the criterion of Utilitarianism — the greatest good for the greatest number — at least in its outcome so far. Even the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, which hastened the defeat of the evil of Japanese Imperialism, satisfies the criterion of Utilitarianism in that it spared the loss of American lives and the even worse devastation of Japan and loss of Japanese lives that would have resulted from a conventional invasion. And I suppose I would have supported it for that reason. (And if you think there we could have demonstrated the bomb over an unpopulated area, remember that we used our entire stockpile of two bombs, and that it took two cities, to bring about the surrender.) [29] But the image of an orphaned baby, burned and screaming, annihilates forever the argument that it was good. [30] It was an evil response of good people to evil, and it was the best that we humans could do at the time.

And so the question of whether I am good or evil in my participation in the nuclear weapons business is already contained in the discussion of yezer tov and yezer ra, above. Or in the Christian idea that we are simultaneously sinners and saints. I am neither one nor the other — like you, I am both. In associating with a nuclear weapons program, I confront the evil of potential aggressors against America with my own evil impulse. On the other hand, it is necessary (but not sufficient) for us to defend our turf, even in this outrageous manner, if we are to defend our freedom. (Otherwise we risk being attacked just for being vulnerable. And if the old enemy is no longer visible on our horizon, all we need do is to become complacent for a new one to appear.) Just as an individual needs his evil impulse to live, so does a nation. The question is not how to eliminate the evil impulse — the question is how to harness it. How can we use it for good?[31]

I remember my third grade teacher, who disciplined a boy during recess for beating up other kids. Rather than strike him or yell at him, she made him stay still for the rest of the recess by holding his hand. He was close to tears after ten minutes of this firm, but gentle torment, and he gave up picking fights at school thereafter. With love rather than anger, she had used overwhelming physical force to stop a bully.

How to apply her kind of force in the nuclear age is a challenge which, as of this writing for example, the world still faces with regard to Saddam Hussein's Iraq. The price of the world's failure to apply such force when needed, and of bully nations' failure to respond to it, will be high — I guarantee it. And I believe that we must look to something greater than ourselves if we are to succeed.

The Bomb and the Cross

Mohandas K. Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr., the two greatest champions of non-violent resistance in recent memory, acted when their adversaries could be restrained by the majority of the their own people. And I have argued that war, especially nuclear war, is outside the type of human situation in which non-violent resistance works. From their statements and their lives, as well as their deaths, it is clear that these two men would regard that argument as beside the point. Gandhi declared that he would use non-violent resistance as a matter of principle even against a nuclear attack, [32] and Dr. King was preparing to lead a non-violent struggle against the Vietnam War. Rather than concern themselves with whether non-violence would "work," these men took up the path of non-violence as a way of being, of participating in reality (the "moral Universe," as Dr. King put it). The lives of these two men remind me that, up to this point, I have avoided dealing with this way of selfless self-actualization. The Christian name for it is the way of the Cross.

"When evil attacks," an associate in the nuclear design program told me, "you die to your self-interest, and just take it. That way evil expends itself, it blows until it runs out of breath. And by letting it overcome you, you overcome it, because Christ takes it for you. Evil blows itself out, and you, spiritually if not bodily, are left standing." Such is the way of the Cross as experienced from the Cross.

This type of self-sacrifice has a potential redeeming effect on the evil-doer, because it offers him (or her) the opportunity to re-evaluate himself and his pursuits in its light, should he choose to do so. The non-violent resister, by acknowledging full responsibility for his or her own actions in a confrontation, invites the evil-doer to acknowledge responsibility for his, as well. The non-violent resister holds up a mirror to the evil-doer showing him both as he is and as he can become.

A complimentary type of mirror was employed by Oscar Wilde in his novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray. Gray came into possession of a portrait of himself as a young man. Gray led a life of debauchery and deceit, but none of this left its mark on his ageless face. The picture, however, did age, becoming perceptibly more hideous with Gray's every foul deed. Eventually Gray could no longer stand to look at the picture, or even to know that it existed, and thrust a knife into it. The next morning Gray was found dead, an ugly old man with a knife in his heart, lying next to the portrait of his handsome younger self.

Although Gray wished not to know it, the picture showed him as he truly was. Rather than to attack the portrait, Gray would have done better to own up to the testimony the picture bore of him, and change his ways. Only in this manner could he have improved its appearance. So it is with nuclear weapons and society. Like Dorian Gray's picture, they show all of us in the world who we are. Similarly, trying to destroy the portrait, or the ones who paint it, will avail us little. The only choice which leads to life is for us to own up to what they say about us, and begin treating each other better.

Being made to know who we are, when we would rather not know, is what I call Judgment. It is inseparable from participation in "the moral Universe," which I call Grace, because this participation implies participation in Truth, including the Truth about ourselves. When we own up to who we are, which I call Confession, we experience reality as Grace rather than Judgment. Now the way of the Cross, the way of Grace, shows us so gently who we are that we can easily look away. And so, in addition to the gentle mirror, we have the mirror which is all Judgment, the Picture of Dorian Gray — nuclear weapons and the obscene horror of nuclear war. [33]

The Soul of the Bomb

In the polytheistic psychology of James Hillman, the ultimate reality is soul as theater. Everyone and everything has soul, and therefore contains many actors or "gods," personified images whose consciousness must be entered and explored via the imagination. Thus Hillman claims that the atomic bomb belongs to Christian apocalyptic's embrace of spirit over soul, rather than to ancient Greece's noble Ares, and that its god within is the "god-is-dead" god of absolute nihilism. [34]

Look more closely, James. Come to the Nuclear Weapons Refresher class at Sandia National Laboratories, Albuquerque. Look inside a "cutaway," a sawn-open, full-sized model of a nuclear warhead. All parts that pose no chemical or radiation hazard are real. Is this Shiva's third eye, the sword of Ragnarok, or is it the last trumpet heralding Judgment Day (an image as Islamic as it is Christian), the Wrath of God entering the world through the gate of our own folly?

Explore with your imagination, James. Enter into the consciousness of the scientists, engineers, and bureaucrats who make up the class. Attempt to hide from yourself the horror of the bomb's potential use by becoming fascinated with the details of its construction. [35] Use each component and subassembly to avoid seeing in its totality the shape of human anger. And amid all the explosive sculpture find the pieces that prevent accidental or unauthorized nuclear detonation. The box that holds the beast has resident a refugee from Pandora's box — Hope sits atop each mechanism of restraint, asking if we're really sure we want to do this, offering a little prayer that if the end must come, let it come some other way at some later time. [36]

So, remember this. If each part that makes the thing go embodies negation of our world, then each part that makes the thing stop embodies affirmation. The soul of the bomb contains both. It is a complex thing, like the will that called it into existence, which is linked inextricably with the wish that it would go away without a prior metanoia, a profound change in human nature. Both the will and the wish originate in the urge to make war on war.

The Absurd Man

The existential aspect of my work in "Defense Sciences" – what it meant to me, or perhaps what meaning I gave to it — has been my focus up to this point. I kept my country from appearing vulnerable to would-be bully nations. I painted humanity's nuclear Picture of Dorian Gray. I gave you your nuclear methadone because you need it, while I remind you that you still participate in humanity's war-addiction. It's confrontational of me to do so, and by itself, at odds with the way of the Cross, as was Jesus' violent outburst in the Temple. On the other hand, as a Christian lay pastoral care-giver, I used a confrontational style with a real addict in recovery who had begun resuming his old habits. He stopped using his drugs. Similarly, although the nuclear powers have resorted to war, the fear of nuclear escalation has restrained them in their use of it, and they have even lost. So much for why I stayed.

I came because I wanted a job where I had some power over my employer — which for a scientist means the power of unalterable physical reality, the power of truth as observable, testable fact. I knew from my graduate school experience of working part-time as a defense researcher that defense labs were closer to this ideal than what I had found in industry, so that was where I applied. My present employer made me a good offer, and I took it.

And what I found in the shadow of the bomb was peace. It's almost spooky how much nicer the people in nuclear weapons design are than most of the folks I knew in academia or private industry. Maybe it's because the considerations I've outlined above give us pause. Maybe it's because we feel confident that truth still generally wins over power in decision making at the lab. Maybe it's because the disapproval we experience or expect to experience from so many good people encourages us to form a more close-knit group.

It's nice to work in a community where science is still generally understood and respected by managers, and where management has the ability to stick with long term projects. Such a community could be a valuable national or global resource. The National Laboratories can evolve into the National Institutes of Energy, or the National Institutes of the Environment, or even the National Institutes of Industry, and play a role in those areas like the National Institutes of Health plays in medicine, provided that our leadership develops clear long-term national policy to guide them. (Otherwise we risk turning the national labs into "job shops" consisting of many small isolated groups of scientists competing for small contracts — the people and facilities may remain, but the corporate culture that enables the labs to pursue large, long-term projects of national or global importance will not.) Oh well. In America, we get what we vote for.

And we get what we tolerate. We as a nation would be stronger, richer, and more peaceful if our ideal of management and government included more empowerment and less bullying, but that is a subject for another essay. [37]

Meanwhile, I think about by my situation. Working at a nuclear weapons lab seems monstrous when I listen to my friends' kids. Then I listen to the news, and go contentedly back to work making a living from a job that wouldn't exist without Human Sin. When I mentioned this to my pastor, he shrugged and replied sadly, "Neither would mine."

Looking Backward

My foregoing rationalizations regarding nuclear weapons for America are very nice, but what about my counterparts in England, France, Russia, China, and (assuming the rumors in the press are true) India, Pakistan, Israel, Iraq, Iran, North Korea, and so on, who could make essentially the same arguments that I have? We Americans feel pretty comfortable about England, France, and even Israel having nuclear weapons, because we know them. We're friends. They're mostly white, like we are so far.

But more to the point than the racist overtones noted above, these countries are committed to representative democratic capitalism, our way of life. We westerners take it as self-evident that this is the best way of life for all humanity, and historically, we have made ourselves enemies of all cultures that did not embrace it.

That our way of life is just one way to live rather than the only way — that western-style representative democratic capitalism (and its attachment to modernity) is particular rather than universal — is the theme of Hichem Djait's Europe and Islam (University of California Press, 1985) for example. Given that truth, how do I affirm my commitment to keeping my culture well-armed without giving my counterparts in other cultures the opportunity to use my arguments for their own purposes?

I could point out that more people were killed in peacetime by totalitarian regimes in the twentieth century than in all its wars. (Or that more people were killed in in the 20th century by machetes than by nuclear weapons.) But western-style representative democratic capitalism may not be the only alternative to totalitarianism. Our culture has serious problems, which I hope it will outgrow.

A more fundamental argument is this: Any country that, in addition to deterrence, practices enfranchisement and empowerment, is in the business of making peace. Those who practice deterrence alone are in the business of making war, and are themselves to be deterred from it by any means necessary. As I said earlier, peace cannot coexist with tyranny — the choice is ultimately liberty or death, whether we like it or not. My counterparts in war-making countries take note.

Now this, like many of my arguments, presupposes that America is and will continue to be a basically benevolent nation, dedicated to the enlargement of human freedom at home and abroad. This is essentially a statement of faith, given the depressingly large body of evidence any competent historian could muster to the contrary. [38] Rather than argue the point, I simply mention that the United States is now in the best position that any country ever has been to make a military conquest of the world. Either we are not going to do it because we are a relatively good people, or we are not going to do it because of our fear of nuclear war. I therefore rest my case for nuclear deterrence, even if the case that it is more moral for the United States to engage in such deterrence than many other countries remains open.

And perhaps it is well that I let it remain open, because most Americans tend to be too self-righteous about that point. I leave it as a challenge for myself and my fellow Americans to act in such ways as to make my assertion of America's basic benevolence true. We might begin by reminding ourselves of our commitment to human rights as defined in our Constitution, which I consider myself bound to uphold and defend against all enemies, foreign and domestic.

That we Americans would never abandon the principles of our Constitution [39] is perhaps the boldest assumption I have made here. We have strayed from them in past years when it suited us. That we will never stray too far is something upon which I would seem to have bet my soul if, as a person of faith, I had not entrusted it elsewhere.


Notes

  • [1] I am indebted to Hugh Gusterson for delineating and naming these positions in a lecture delivered at Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory.
  • [2] For a discussion of evil as a psychological character disorder see M. Scott Peck, People of the Lie, Simon and Schuster, New York, 1983. See also "Reviving a Dead Language," at this web site.
  • [3] For more on assertive behavior see Robert E. Alberti and Michael L. Emmons, Your Perfect Right, Impact Publishers, San Luis Obispo, CA, 1987.
  • [4] Gandhi's non-violence did not preclude his organizing an Indian Ambulance Corps to assist the British in the Boer War — non-violence and pacifism are not necessarily identical.
  • [5] Max I. Dimont, Jews, God, and History, Signet Books, 1962. Dimont also notes mass demonstrations against the deportations of Jews in Bulgaria. See also, Abba Eban, My People, Random House, New York, 1968.
  • [6] Perhaps Gandhi himself sensed something like this. Whatever the motives of this complex man, he refrained from demanding that Indians refuse to fight in WW II. That said, non-violent confrontation may have worked against the Nazis if it had been used by the bulk of the German people before the Nazis had consolidated their power and diminished the possibility of such collective action. Even then there were at least three successful, but limited, instances of non-violent resistance in Germany itself — protests by Catholics against the substitution of swastikas for crucifixes in local schools, protests by "Aryan" wives against the deportation of their Jewish husbands, and protests against the euthanasia of the "unfit." (See Nathan Stolzfus, "Dissent in Nazi Germany," The Atlantic, September 1992.) As I said earlier, the "right" people must use non-violence against the "right" opponent at the "right" time. In the case of the Nazis, the "right" people sold out to them, leaving war as the best alternative for the rest of the world. In fact, the need to preserve unity in support of the war effort was cited by Nazi officials as the principal reason for giving in to these protests.
  • [7] A further exploration of the need for forceful confrontation in another context is given by Kenneth Haugck in Antagonists in the Church, Augsburg Publishing, Minneapolis, 1988. The subtitle is "How to identify and deal with destructive conflict." While Haugck does not advocate physical violence, he is dealing with churches rather than international relations. In international relations the use of Haugk's moral confrontation is sometimes meaningless unless backed up by a willingness to use force.
  • [8] Not only can the genie of nuclear weapons not be put back in the bottle — the next genie may already be on its way out at some university somewhere in the world. Perhaps it's premature of me, but I'm somewhat worried that I've never met anyone — scientists included — who even considered the possibility, let alone tried to plan a response to it. In other words, a solution to the nuclear weapons problem that leaves us no better equipped to deal with an emerging weapons technology than we were before may accomplish nothing.
  • [9] This argument is sometimes used to justify the idea that nuclear deterrence accomplished nothing, because the superpowers engaged in proxy wars which led to death and destruction in the "third world." Those who advance that argument may be forgetting to extrapolate the dramatic escalation in destructiveness from WW I to WW II. A non-nuclear but otherwise high technology (including chemical and biological weapon technology) WW III might be a good deal nastier than most of us imagine.
  • [10] I use the word community here, because it has become a standard designation. If people were really in community with one another in these places, there would be far less "black-on-black" violence.
  • [11] The idea of personal involvement to make peace by "building community" is discussed at length in M. Scott Peck, The Different Drum, Simon and Schuster, New York, 1987. Here, I specifically call attention to the roles of enfranchisement, empowerment, and deterrence in that process.
  • [12] We are now at a moment of historical opportunity (due to the collapse of the Soviet Union) to try another moratorium on nuclear testing. However, I think we need to do certain nuclear tests to enable the nuclear weapons program to be maintained before we begin such a moratorium. See "Testing, One, Two, Three, Four," an unpublished essay of mine.
  • [13] "The ruler of his soul surrenders in mind all work...he neither does selfish work nor causes others to do it." —The Bhagavad Gita 5:13, translated by Juan Mascaro, Penguin Books, New York, 1985.
  • [14] See "Testing, One, Two, Three, Four..." probably never to be published.
  • [15] Anthony J. Stevens, The Roots of War: A Jungian Perspective, Paragon House, New York, 1989, pages 216-217.
  • [16] And I'll bet that if something worse than nuclear weapons is invented, it will come as an unintended by-product of research undertaken for humanity's good. Who would have guessed, for example, that research on textile dyes would lead ultimately to chemical weapons, or that biological weapons would result from efforts to cure infectious disease? That is to say, shutting down nuclear weapons labs will not protect the world from the danger of radically new weapons. Only peace-making in the form of enfranchisement, empowerment, and deterrence can do that. And part of deterrence is the preparedness that weapons labs provide to respond to the invention of radically new weapons by someone else.

    Of course, we could just try for a world-wide halt to scientific research and technological change. This is obviously not desirable because technological change serves humanity like biological diversity serves life in general — it gives us ways to cope with new challenges to our existence. For example, medical scientists deliberately forced the smallpox virus into virtual extinction. Nor is halting technological change possible, because the demand for such change is so great — people want the new stuff so much that they actually buy it.

  • [17] Or is the "tiger" feeding me? After all, I do get paid for my work.
  • [18] I am indebted to Pastor Len Nelson for pointing this out.
  • [19] There are some who think I should compare myself to the engineers who designed the Nazi gas chambers instead. It is true that the path into group evil is taken in small steps, each with its own rationalization, and I and my colleagues know it. But systematically eliminating a vulnerable population to achieve societal purity is different from raising the specter of deadly force against armed opponents who will respond to nothing else. Thus, for example, I do not regard the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki as a war crime in the same sense as the Nazi's genocide of the Jews. On the other hand, the difference will become moot if we and our adversaries engage only in deterrence without empowerment and enfranchisement. Moreover, many of the folks who compare people like me to Nazis dismiss or dehumanize us with language borrowed from psychiatry. They might do well to remember how the Nazis used psychiatric and biological terms to dehumanize their chosen "undesirables."
  • [20] In fact, the emphasis on guilt can itself be sinful (or estranged) when it allows us to avoid confronting ourselves. Shelby Steele has a penetrating discussion of it as related to racism in The Content of Our Character (St. Martin's Press, New York, 1990) under the phrase "seeing for innocence." Here, of course, the particular form of sin is "nuclearism", both pro- and anti-.
  • [21] The Inferno, Canto III, translated and annotated by John Ciardi, Mentor Books, New York, 1954. Stephen Sondheim stated a similar sentiment with one line in Into the Woods: "You're not good, you're not bad, you're just nice."
  • [22] Of course, the "zero option," in which nobody has any nuclear weapons makes the value of having just one become infinite, which makes cheating irresistible. The total elimination of nuclear weapons by the current nuclear powers would simply create a world in which nearly every country secretly has just a few. Such a world might be less stable against nuclear weapons actually being used than our present one.
  • [23] In particular we may need to do research and testing to anticipate how proliferants may work around restrictions in materials and technology, so we can avoid being unpleasantly surprised some day.
  • [24] I use the term anti-nuclear activism rather than peace activism for two reasons. First eliminating nuclear weapons will not in itself make peace — it will merely change the calculus of war, until something worse is invented. Second, the kind of anti-nuclear activism I have in mind tends to generalize itself into protest against nuclear energy and irradiated food, as in the case of Alameda county measure A. It is a quest for purity that refuses to examine the possible negative consequences of its success. For example, if the global warming hypothesis is correct, nuclear reactors may become the most environmentally responsible means of producing the energy needed to sustain our populations, let alone our cultures.
  • [25] See "Killing Christ," at this website. I would prefer that the protesters arrive on Easter Monday. While Christianity does challenge all Christians regarding how we live in light of the Crucifixion, its central challenge is how we live in light of the Resurrection. After such glorious Good News, it's shocking that we all go back to business as usual. After thus challenging us weapons scientists to wonder about our jobs, the protesters could return home to wonder about their own. Such a protest would be more intended to heal rather than hurt — besides being more sincere than the Good Friday protest, it would be more peaceful.
  • [26] Thich Nhat Hanh, Being Peace, Parallax Press, Berkeley CA, 1987.
  • [27] The subsection title is from the Buddhist koan, "Between Good and Evil, how great is the distance?"
  • [28] Baruch M. Bokser and Ben Zion Bokser, The Talmud: Selected Writings, Paulist Press, Mahwah, NJ, 1989. It is no accident that the Talmudists considered the instinct for self-preservation to be part of the evil impulse. While the drive to preserve onself is good under most circumstances, it is fairly easy to manipulate that drive to get people to participate in evil. See "The Leviathan, Inc.," at this web site.
  • [29] Or take a look at Japan's Longest Day, compiled by the Pacific War Research Society, Ballantine Books, New York, 1983. The Japanese authors show that even after the two atomic bombings, the Japanese leadership was still seriously divided with regard to surrendering. The Emperor's courier had to run a gauntlet of assassins to sneak the recorded surrender speech to a broadcast studio. Now some elements of Japan's leadership may have been exploring a negotiated surrender with the Soviets. Most likely this faction was simply trying to avoid a peace that involved the occupation of Japan. I think that any such peace, which would have allowed Japanese society to avoid transforming itself into the relatively peaceful country it is today, would have been unconscionable. Besides, the Soviets were only looking for an opportunity to divide Japan as they divided Europe. Given that Communism prevented social transformation (one has only to note the re-emergence of anti-Semitism in the former Soviet Union and Eastern Europe following Communism's collapse) I think that it would also have been unconscionable to have permitted the division of Japan. Had we entered into negotiations with Japan, their divided leadership would most certainly have stalled until such a division took place. In other words, those who insist that there were paths to peace other than by way of the atomic bombing of Japan must consider the kind of peace that would have ensued. They should also consider that Japan had its own nuclear weapons program, and that the initial Japanese reaction to the bombing of Hiroshima was to ask if their scientists could produce an equivalent bomb in six months — see Paul Johnson, Modern Times, Harper and Row, New York, 1983.
  • [30] Ironically, what I had remembered as an image of Hiroshima turns out to be H. S. Wong's photo taken after the Japanese conventional bombing of Nanking on August 29, 1937.
  • [31] In fact, non-violent resistance works by harnessing the "evil impulse" in the non-violent resister as well as in the society targeted by the resistance — Gandhi believed that people had to have some "fight" in them in order to be resisters at all. See Erik H. Erikson, Gandhi's Truth, W. W. Norton & Co., Inc., New York, 1969.
  • [32] Erik H. Erikson, op . cit.
  • [33] Readers of the Qur'an will note that in Sura 27, "The Ants," verses 18-19 Solomon hears the distress of the ants at the prospect of being trampled by his armies. I presume he spared them, indicating that we should preserve and respect the environment and its inhabitants even in wartime. Thus weapons of mass destruction may present ethical dilemmas for Muslims, too.
  • [34] James Hillman, A Blue Fire, selected essays introduced and edited by Thomas Moore, Harper Collins, New York, 1991, pp 180-185.
  • [35] This would be Lifton's "psychic numbing" if it actually worked.
  • [36] Greg Simonson pointed out to me that a nuclear weapon likely to be designed by proliferant state (none of which are predominately Christian) for use in a regional conflict would probably not include any safety or use-control features.
  • [37] "Leviathan, Inc.," at this web site.
  • [38] On the other hand, what was it that Shakespeare has Mark Anthony say? "The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones..." The historical record is seldom entire, nor is it merely a collection of facts. It is inseparable from our need for it to serve as the mythic basis for our self-understanding, whether to support arguments for or against a given question. Thus, the argument as to the basic goodness of the United States may be unresolvable in any final sense. Moreover, the evidence for the basic "badness" of the United States could be lumped together with the evidence for the basic "badness" of all humankind, which can serve as another point of departure for asserting the salutary effect of the bifurcation that nuclear weapons introduce into our sense of human history: either we become more peaceful, or we self-destruct.
  • [39] See, "The Righteous State," at this web site regarding my principal anxiety on this point.