On Dogged Belief
Last week, Robert Bingaman articulated some thoughts about the culture of life as evinced in some current events. This set off a discussion, primarily (of interest to me, anyway) between me and Robert, which, until now, ended with Robert stating the following:
“And if it’s an illusion, your way of life that is, why don’t you do the most meaningful thing possible and kill yourself (with the optional hope that you’d be waking up)?”
On the face of it, especially out of context, this appears to be the utterance of some wretchedly deluded, dogmatic, heartless man. It is, in fact, one of the most complimentary things anyone has ever said to me. There, between the words, holding them together as a fine tapestry, is the subtle and rare respect for others one finds in a mind willing to hold forth consistently and completely from his philosophy. Robert doesn’t blunt his point with a euphemizing retreat. He simply follows the development of his point of view within the thread to its logical conclusion. It’s in his doing so, without feeling the need to pull on the reins to avoid offense, that tells me he respects me and the other readers enough to speak maturely and squarely on the point.
There was some retribution regarding the bluntness, to which Robert replied evenly and respectfully, as anyone who’s read for even a short time (like me) should expect. The retribution is sort of understandable: even as eloquent and, more importantly, well-articulated as Robert is, text can quite often skew connotation through the absence of connotative tools to which we’re accustomed, such as tone of voice and body language. Still, there wasn’t anything patently offensive in the discussion on the part of any participants.
The whole thing comes at a serendipitous moment for me. I am in a foreign place, with little but my internal gyroscope to guide me, and all about me are voices real and imagined whose cacophony confuses. Over the last few months, I’ve spent no small amount of time plumbing the depths of my and my fiancée’s perspectives on religion and spirituality; and I’ve been spending more time watching and listening to messages of faith where I can find them. Honestly, quite a lot has been from the perspective of a nonbeliever looking for specific examples as support of my position on spirituality and, moreso, religion. In all fairness, a good bit of the most easily accessible religious and spiritual media is shamefully asinine, which does religious faith a disservice and, I hope, is not necessarily representative. So, I haven’t found anything that but through this absurdity supports my prejudice. I’ll keep looking. Discussions such as the one continued below offer much more to chew on, and with a hopefully broader and deeper palette of flavor.
Herewith, my response. Comments are open.

The supposition that the soundest choice afforded me, afflicted as I am with the absence of a larger moral framework from which I draw my own, is death, is interesting, but little more. Your claim seems to be that life is a deterministic result of this moral structure, a structure built by larger design. Without such a structure informing life, the life is inherently without purpose, according to this, and, purpose apparently the foundation for life, it is aberrant, absurd to use your word, and unfit for continuation. I see two problems with your general application.
First, I challenge the presumption that life itself is dependent upon a purpose for it. I see no evidence to suggest that there exists any intrinsic need within the universe for life, any more than there is a need for gravity, and so there is no purpose served by either. Certainly it might be contended that life, like gravity, is a useful result of the perturbations of forces and particles over billions of years, temporal and light, though gravity seems far more useful. At the very least, the terrestrial environment is likely quite different than it would be had not humanity achieved its historic influence. However, whatever this utility might be it is only utility in the context of open-ended processes, with no more value in one or the other possible consequence. If humanity eventually affects some noticeable presence and deformation of some statistically significant volume of the Milky Way galaxy, it would be no more or less beneficial a result than if the species had become extinct. Either is simply a potentiality unfettered by design or intelligent direction. In the absence of life or gravity, the universe would simply be built differently to one degree or another.
Second, there is an implicit contention that the morality thought to result as an extension of a larger, purposeful framework (for fun, I’ll coin “exomorality”) exists less within the domain of the personal mind than does the internally constructed morality (“endomorality”). This is as ridiculous as the coined taxonomy: whatever you consider the source of your morality, it is you parsing the legitimate components of such from the illegitimate. Each of us is as much the puppet of our preconceptions as the other. That you attribute the quality and texture of your conception of right and wrong to some higher, guiding authority doesn’t make it any more objectively well-built than mine. That you think so is simply a result of your conception of right and wrong, and so is circular.
Also, it’s worth clarifying that I didn’t mean to establish the nonbeliever’s moral code as wholly reflexive, as being constructed in a vacuum. Rather, I see it as constructed from observations of the world through the amalgam filter of our cultures. While not nearly as rigorous, it’s not unlike the development of theory through application of the scientific method. I would love to say I’ve developed this hypothesis further, but I haven’t, which is one reason I value this conversation as much as I do. What makes sense upon reflection is that morality is, as life and gravity are, emergent and nondeterministic. There is a larger context from which we gather our morality, but I think that context itself is emergent, undesigned, and variable: human society. I don’t mean the same “society” which all manner of miscreant blames for his or her having grown up in a ghetto or somesuch and, inevitably, for having been forced to commit crimes to live, though, of course, that society is at least a subset of the one to which I refer. I mean society as the summation of all networks of persons past and present, and its quite complicated topology.
Upon this reflection, morality seems a force propagated along that network, derived from a fundamental prerequisite of life, the drive to survive, taken at a species level. It is, of course, as with all emergent systems (or, more generally, most logical systems of any sophistication), fairly complex, and imperfect. Largely disconnected populations can, and have, developed starkly different schemas of right and wrong, and it is with great difficulty at least that any one claims definitively to have the most righteous. If this is true, then there is no objective set of invariable morals, and I find no reason to believe such exists.
Ultimately, we seem to disagree on the answer to a generating question: what is life? You could likely recite more quickly and completely the biological perspective, which I won’t call a definition since there is some contention in the details; but I would more readily consider it a full explanation than you. Where two “nonbelievers” might quibble over whether or not to consider a virus alive, they don’t consider among the criteria a belief on the part of the virus in “Reason–by way of design”. Even the fact that you and I each counts as an element in morality something beyond the person doesn’t bridge that gap, because my categorization allows for a single human to fully constitute both the domain and the range of morality, whereas you would probably still believe in a relationship between that person and an (the) extrahuman designer.
So, not necessarily unfortunately, I must fall back on an inconclusive conclusion, and respectfully agree to disagree with you. I will take that inconclusivity any day over dogmatic and illusory completeness.
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