I felt like reposting one fun little piece I wrote on morality a while ago after listening to this debate between two atheists on the nature of morality:
For the most part I side with Dillahunty on the objective nature of morality (you can see my perspective on this here: https://reverend-robbie.com/2014/11/02/are-morals-and-values-objective-or-subjective/). I think Dillahunty took over the debate after the long commercial break at 53:30. The only place I would disagree with Dillahunty on is the need to ask people why they prefer states of well-being over suffering. He claims at the 1:03:00 point that in order to derive objective morality we have to understand not only what someone’s preference is for how they would like to be treated, but also why they hold that preference. I don’t see why that’s necessary. Anyway, read my little post below and then go listen to the debate. As always please give me your thoughts!
ORIGINAL POST:
Morality, generally: The process of determining the behaviors that most reliably result in the well-being of conscious creatures. (more or less the definition presented by Sam Harris in his books)
Jeff took great pride in the art of baking the Baked Alaska. He had tried several different recipes over the years and had found that some worked better than others. Each recipe had similar ingredients, but also some critical differences. He had consulted several different cookbooks and taken advice from his friends. They all had different instructions. Some of the differences stemmed from desires for different tastes and textures, and other variances resulted from the cooking procedures that each source felt would best achieve their preferred outcomes.
While all of the opinions varied, there were some consistent objectives, ingredients, and methodologies. Each recipe was intended to produce a sweet and fluffy dessert based on ice cream and meringue. Jeff liked most of the recipes, hated a few, and delighted in a couple. Each time he baked, he adjusted the recipe to approach a particular outcome that would be pleasing to most people who generally liked Baked Alaska type desserts.
On consecutive days, Jeff took advice from a couple of friends; the first day from Joe and the second from John. Joe started with the assumption that Jeff wanted to make the dessert that was widely known as a Baked Alaska, even if their particular preferences and methodologies somewhat differed. Before giving his advice, Joe debated with Jeff the qualities of a perfect Baked Alaska, and the processes and ingredients that would achieve the ideal final product. They had a vigorous discussion in which they identified several areas of agreement and some of contention. At times the discussion got heated. Joe and Jeff were passionate and opinionated about their desserts! In the end, they pretty much came to agreement, and despite a few unresolved disagreements, they decided that Jeff would try a particular recipe and they would observe the outcome and try again later based on the results.
The next day, Jeff got together with John. John had a slightly different idea about Baked Alaska, but not much different from those of Jeff and Joe. Their discussion, however, started out much differently. John explained his recipe and then said that it most closely represented the Baked Alaska as defined by The Great Immortal Baked Alaska Baker*, the one who had complete and perfect knowledge of all things Baked Alaska. Jeff didn’t mind this, as he still felt they had common ground for debating the qualities of the dessert in question.
To Jeff’s surprise, however, John said he was happy to discuss the recipe, except that he couldn’t imagine how Jeff could possibly have any position on how to bake without first acknowledging that Baked Alaska was perfectly defined by the Divine Baker, The Preheat and The Chill Before Serve, The Great “I Bake”. How could Baked Alaska even have a meaningful definition without having first being defined by a great recipe giver; one who determined exactly what a perfect Baked Alaska would look and taste like and knew the perfect way to create one? Although mortals did not have access to everything in the mind of The Great Immortal Baked Alaska Baker, mortals could only attempt to make a perfect Baked Alaska because it had first been conceived in the mind of the Great Baker.
“In other words,” John said, “Where do you get your Baked Alaska from?”
Jeff insisted that they forge ahead, as they both had reasonable ideas for the recipe and similar opinions about desirable qualities of the finished product. To this, John protested. “Of course we could proceed because, whether or not you acknowledge it, we’re both pursuing the Baked Alaska conceived by the Great Baker. Without his conception, though, what’s to keep you from defining a Baked Alaska as a crunchy, salty dish with beans, meat, and strips of seasoned tortilla chips?
When Jeff explained to John that such a dish sounded like a Frito Pie, John unproductively responded, “Well who’s to say, hmmm? And even if we did agree on what the Baked Alaska should look like, what’s to keep you from making it with rocks and nails unless the recipe had been invented by The Baker? Some chefs, mostly in other countries, try that you know. And on what grounds can you tell them that they’re wrong without appealing to his Holy Culinariness?”
Jeff was thoroughly baffled. “I guess I would tell them that they’re being nutty, and while they may be happy making it with those ingredients, most anyone who tried to eat it would be pretty unhappy, as the laws of chemistry dictate that you can’t achieve such a dessert with those ingredients. I mean, if we’re not talking about a sweet, ice cream and meringue dessert, and if we’re not attempting to use methods and ingredients that demonstrably create that, then what are we talking about?”
Jeff continued, “If someone wants to take that position and that backward approach on a ‘Baked Alaska’, then I suppose we could agree to another title, but I would make it clear that I’m not interested in making their nail-based Frito Pie and would rather make something similar to what was formerly known as a Baked Alaska.” And gathering himself further, he concluded, “How does appeal to a Divine Baker solve anything if those other nutjobs could just say that they are close, personal friends with the Divine Baker and that he told them that their Baked Alaska was the correct one? It just adds another unnecessary step and can do nothing but convolute the discussion.”
John was appalled. “You’re just being ridiculous. Without some transcendentally generated definition and method for Baked Alaska, you can’t even have a discussion about what makes a good one and how to go about baking it.”
“Look,” Jeff explained, ready to abandon the entire project for the day, “we’ve got a basic idea of what makes a good Baked Alaska and we can try to bake one. Neither of us is going to try to tell a customer that a Frito Pie is actually a Baked Alaska, and I’M NOT ABOUT TO SERVE SOMEONE NAILS AND ROCKS IN THEIR FOOD SINCE THAT’S JUST IMMORAL!”
“Immoral, huh?” John said with a tone of triumph. “Where do YOU get your morals from?”
* – I’m aware that Charles Ranhofer invented the Baked Alaska and prescribed a recipe. If you get hung up on that, you either lack imagination, are missing the point, or both.
