Sick Souls and Healthy Minds

Conversations outside the blog have led me to back up a little. 

You may have been reading previous posts, and finding it difficult to follow my pessimistic assessment of human nature. This may not be the fault of my argument or of your ability to follow it, but a result of our respective religious temperaments. So, before I go further in describing Sin, it might not be amiss to reflect on the work of philosopher and psychologist William James (sitting at left above). If you are interested, his book The Varieties of Religious Experience is well worth reading, but I will give here brief descriptions of the religous temperaments he termed "healthy-minded" and "sick-souled"

William James well understood that people express religion in various ways, and that this had to do with experience and temperament. He noted that some speakers seem certain of the goodness of life, exuding confidence in human abilities to do the right and abstain from wrongdoing, who saw every setback in moral character as temporary and, in principle, correctible by piecemeal adjustments to our behavior and relationship with the world. He would use the term "healthy-minded" to describe their outlook. They were generally to be found in the liberal denominations of his day (and I would hazard in our own), and James thought that the Roman Catholic Church was generally amenable to the healthy-minded. For a healthy-minded preacher, think Ralph Waldo Emerson. Those sharing this temperament, we would call optimistic, and they certainly appear to live happier lives than the other grouping that James observed.

These he termed "sick-souled". Their assessment of nature and human character was much bleaker, not something to be remedied by piecemeal adjustments, but requiring wholesale conversion, understood to arrive "supernaturally", certainly from beyond the usual plane of human effort. These were often found in Protestantism (although, note the optimism of 19th century Unitarianism and Universalism). For a sick-souled preacher, think Jonathan Edwards. While the sick-souled live less happy lives, James considered they have something serious to offer us with respect to understanding the human condition.

James also understood that people lay on a continuum between extremes of healthy-minded and sick-souled. He held to a pragmatic philosophy, regarding as philosophically true that which was useful for our behavior. He was certainly not averse to searching for the true among alternative or opposing ideas, for which I consider him wise, since the sick-souled and the healthy-minded have much to offer to each other, if only we are willing to listen.

Our religious temperament also impacts on understandings of wrongdoing and evil. To the healthy-minded the problem of evil is the problem of "ills and sins in the plural, removable in detail". To the sick-souled the problem is "Sin in the singular, with a capital S, as of something ineradically ingrained in our natural subjectivity, and never to be removed by any superficial, piecemeal operations."

Traditionally, Sin has been understood as alienation to God. In an earlier post (Between Gods and Idols), I suggested a definition of God as Ordering Principle, along the lines of "that to which our thoughts and actions ought to be loyal". This seems to me a useful way of encouraging conversation among the widest range of belief. Whether gods are imagined walking on Olympus or in Eden, whether understood as disembodied intelligence or set of ideals, whether the "believer" calls themselves Christian, theist, agnostic or atheist, as long as they value some attitudes and actions over others, they will find a place in the conversation.

The problem of Sin becomes the question of what prevents our thoughts and actions being in the service of or directed toward this Ordering Principle, which I call God, and the question of how this alienation from this Ordering Principle might be removed. We are also interested in describing the consequences of Sin, and the consequences of its removal. Those of us who are Christian will want an account of this in traditional and biblical language, while those coming from other traditions or none may want to reflect on how they describe these terms.

Which brings me back to comments. Be assured, I'd be interested in your impressions to this developing theology, and so might other readers. Theology is a conversation. Please submit comments.

Kandinsky or Klee?

The last post explored what I would call a sympathetic, liberal understanding of the Doctrine of Total Depravity, against traditional liberalism's affirmation of human perfectibility. I am not saying the former is true, while the latter is an incorrect way of describing the situation. One can view human nature in either light. But I am saying, it's worth exploring the hopeful pessimism of the dimmer view of human nature. After all, is it easier to do the right thing, or the most convenient thing? And how are we motivated to do the former in preference to the latter?

The second of our Unitarian Universalist Principles covenants us to affirm and promote justice, equity and compassion in human relations. One would like to hope that almost everyone would agree that we should treat people well and treat people fairly. And while the optimist can take cheer for the observation that, from day to day, people are often kind and fair enough to each other, there is plenty of room for pessimism. It's no surprise to survey, not just history, but the present, and observe how frequently people perpetuate cruelty and injustice. At the historical level, this can rise to the proportions of the Holocaust, while at smaller scales, for example, we easily excuse ourselves for buying products made in sweatshops.

Much psychological research has been inspired by attempts to understand the conditions that made for the Holocaust. Why did (and do) people perpetrate such cruelty? Until the work of Henri Tajfel, psychologists had put this down to either individual personality (some people are more inclined toward evil than others), or competition for resources. Tajfel's work in the 1970s implies that group loyalty and social identity may have much to do with favoring the in-group; and that it didn't take much to create in people a sense of group identity to which they could be loyal.

Tajfel set out to investigate the minimal conditions under which people act on a sense of group identity. In his first experiments, he showed 14 to 15-year-old boys a series of abstract paintings by Wassily Kandinsky or Paul Klee and asked which of the two they preferred. He then told them they had been placed into one of two groups based on this preference, when, in fact, they had been randomly assigned to one of the groups. He then gave them a workbook through which they would distribute a small financial reward to other participants in the study. They could not reward themselves, and all they knew about the other participants was which group they had been placed into. Tajfel found that the schoolboys tended consistently to reward those in their own group more than those in the other group.

Further work has demonstrated that this result is generalizable to adults, that we will show group loyalty even if our group assignment is based on a coin-toss, and that we will disciminate against people ,we are told, transferred from the other group into our own. We will even prefer to assign less to our own group as long as we can assign even less to the others! (For example, we would give our own group 11 coins against 1 for the other group, rather than give our own group 15 and the other group 10).

Tajfel found that in-group favoritism does not require us to have much in common with our group. We need have no future accountability toward its members, and no personal interest in resources. So how much more might we act on prejudice, when we have connections with others in our group of culture, language, blood and affection, along with reciprocal favoritism from them in the future.

Before Tajfel's work on group identity, Stanley Milgram had demonstrated that more than two thirds of his subjects were willing to administer remotely what they believed were lethal electric shocks, as long as they were ordered to do so by a white-coated scientist in the belief that it was "all for the good of science". It is heartening that almost one third of the subjects refused to continue, although they were placing themselves at no risk in doing so. I wonder what the proportions would be if the disobedient could be summarily executed.

And before that, Solomon Asch demonstrated that subjects were willing to acquiesce in a group's obvious misjudgment. Briefly, the experimental subject was shown three lines of different lengths on one card, and then on another card a single line matching one of the three. The task, as the subject believed, was to match the single line to one of the three. This was to be done as part of a group, but unknown to the subject, the other members of the group were part of the experiment, having been briefed beforehand whether they should unanimously give the correct answer or the incorrect one. The room was so arranged that the subject would be the last or penultimate one to respond.

Asch found that a surprisingly large proportion of subjects would conform to the group's obviously incorrect answer. About three-quarters of subjects went along with the group at least once, while, overall, participants went along with the group a little under one third of the time. Although acquiescing in incorrect assessments of line lengths is of little moral importance, the subjects were not under much pressure to conform. In circumstances where going along with the group is immoral, there is often coercion to conform and danger in dissent. At the very least, there is the possibility of breaking existing relationships.

All of this research is conducted on "ordinary" people. They are not what we might think of as especially evil people; indeed, they are good like you and me. I imagine that, as social animals, we are deeply programmed for loyalty and trust. It's certainly not difficult to imagine evolutionary grounds for our tendency to trust authority or be loyal to our group; people who willingly gave loyalty to their group and trusted their leaders likely prevailed over other groups. That it was once successful, doesn't mean that it is now good behavior - or that it ever was.

None of the above settles whether, by our own means, we can climb out of this state of affairs; or alternatively, we need prompting from something beyond us. Here's how I see it. The depth of programming in us for group loyalty and trust makes it very difficult - impossible maybe - to know whether our social motivations are good. And if we separate from groups and leaders, then we are left on our own, and, as individuals, I don't believe we are any better off. How can we tell if we are being selfish or not? Or if we are rationalizing instead of reasoning?

Given my pessimistic description of human nature, a cynical response might be to go along with the survival of the fittest; and a despairing response might be to give up altogether on working for justice, equity and compassion.

Rather, I would choose a hopeful response. There are resources that can tip the balance, that help us to do the right as we discern it, rather than the merely convenient, even in the face of possible hardship. And this is what religions should provide. These resources don't make us perfect, and they don't make us better than other people. But perhaps they can transform us to grow toward being in ways we could not previously have imagined. And while, no doubt, these resources exist elsewhere, I have found hope and Good News in Christianity among Unitarian Universalists. Not that we're all pessimists about human nature; some, maybe most, disagree with me. But God is the ground for our debate, not a weapon.

Next time: What happens when we miss the mark, and how we might be saved from it.

Naughty or Nice?

Are people naughty or nice? This is a question that comes up whether we count ourselves religious or not. We cannot avoid seeing people acting both well and badly toward each other, and, as long as people often behave badly, some account of it must be had. If we are hopeful, this account will offer some way out of complacent acceptance of our own wickedness or acceptance of the suffering of some at the hands of others toward a future where love and justice are the arbiters of decision making. It sounds like the "Reign of God" to put it in Christian language.

As I write, I don't want to give the impression that the account given here is the only possible account; it is not. I will not even warrant that I can express it as accurately as I should wish. I present this account of human nature - part of theological anthropology - because this was for me an important element of thinking my way into Christianity, when I encountered it in a systematic theology class. The question of human nature is really the question of Sin and its antidote. Or in other language: What do we need to be saved from? And how?

My thinking over the next few posts comes from Mark Heim's presentation in that class, my reading of Reinhold Niebuhr (in particular, The Nature and Destiny of Man, Volume One), and from the scientific insights of evolutionary psychology. But all this has a biblical basis as well. Christian readings of Genesis 1-3 present the story of a good creation subverted by the Fall, as the prelude to eventual redemption. The apostle Paul wrote:

For since death came through a human being, the resurrection of the dead has also come through a human being; for as all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ. (1 Cor 15:21-22)

Augustine and Calvin developed this idea, and it is to Calvin's Doctrine of Total Depravity that I now turn. And I would frame the question as not whether people do wicked things, but the extent to which we can prevent ourselves from doing wicked things by our own efforts. Calvin's Doctrine of Total Depravity is not popular in Unitarian Universalist circles; I have heard said on several occasions that the doctrine is incompatible with affirming the first of our principles: the inherent worth and dignity of every person.

What follows is an attempt to look more positively at this doctrine.My aim is less to convert anyone to my particular point of view, but to provide resources that encourage justice, compassion and hope. In summary here is the Doctrine of Total Depravity (hereafter "Total Depravity"). It might better be called the Doctrine of Pervasive Depravity. I break it down into three parts.

   First: Humans have a propensity to sin, inherited from the fall of Adam - Bad News
   Second: This affects in some part all our thoughts and actions - Very Bad News
   Third:  We are saved from this state of affairs by God's grace - Very Good News

To be fair, one might argue from Calvin's doctrine that being so wicked, humans are worthy of little consideration, especially in conjunction with other Calvinist teachings of Double Predestination and Substitutionary Atonement. Some have no doubt experienced such an attitude from Calvinistic churches. And Calvin's own behavior around the trial and execution of Michael Servetus does not suggest that Calvin cared much about the inherent worth and dignity of every person. I will leave this to Calvin's biographers, and return to the three-point summary of total Depravity above.

Even in the absence of negative experiences I can see why many Unitarian Universalists do not like "Total Depravity". In the absence of conviction concerning part three, there are dangers in holding only to parts one and two. We are left with only bad news and no way out. In fact, the third statement opens the way, not only to hope, but also to the inherent worth and dignity of every person. If we have worth in God's eyes (because God desires to save us), then we ought to treat each other accordingly.

Although the "us" to be saved may not have gone far in the eyes of Calvin (he taught Double Predestination), it did to our Universalist forebears. Early American Universalists like John Murray were steeped in Calvinist theology and accepted "Total Depravity" in its entirety. Whereas in traditional Calvinism, God has determined to save only a remnant, Calvinist Universalists declared that God has both the will and the power to save us all. They taught that God loves us all not because of how good we are (in fact, in spite of our wickedness), but merely for being God's creation; what we might call our inherent worth and dignity. Once we are convinced of God's unconditional love for us, goodness is our only possible response. God does not love us because we are good; we are good because God loves us.

In opposition to "Total Depravity", traditional liberal theology affirmed human perfectibility. Unitarians of the 19th century called this "salvation by character". In part, it represents a reaction against the supposed and experienced gloominess of the whole Calvinist package of total Depravity, Substitutionary Atonement and Double Predestination. "Human Perfectibility" does not deny the human capacity for evil, but differs from "Total Depravity" in points two and three. Here is a summary:
   First: Humans have a capacity to sin.
   Second: There is a God-given place in our psyche from which we can judge ourselves.
   Third: We have the will to act on this self-judgment which will save us from the deathly consequences of sin.

This raises us from the status of persistent wrongdoer to being on the path of righteousness. The affirmation is noble if we understand the "us" here to be universal. It opposed the gloominess of traditional Calvinism with optimism in human abilities, which, by Victorian standards, seemed eminently justified. It led to the quip, related by Thomas Starr King, that while the Universalists believed God was too good to damn them, the Unitarians believed they were too good to be damned!

Joking aside, there are dangers in holding to "Human Perfectibility". It fuels self-righteousness and hubris.It closely pegs our worth on our capacity for improvement, and undermines the very possibility of inherent worth. It may ultimately end in disillusion and despair when we have tried to be good and failed, for example, because of compulsion or addiction.

And in my view, while there is much we can do for ourselves, our grounds for adequate hope cannot rest with us alone. One Christian way of telling the story is that we inherit Original Sin from Adam. We do not have to take the Garden of Eden literally, to understand how Sin might be inherited. From an evolutionary perspective, humans have evolved along with everything else, due to selection pressures. This selection is for survival not virtue, and we ought to be aware of the likelihood that evolutionary behavior is deeply embedded in us. Depth psychology suggests that we are often not very aware of why we act in certain ways. Certainly we can have no assurance that we are completely aware of our motivations. More often that not, we rationalize our actions after our brains have determined what to do. The metaphor of us riding the elephant is quite apt: no really, I wanted the elephant to crash through the gate and go into that field!

Well, all this probably raises more questions than it answers - as I think theology probably should. What do we mean by Sin? What is Salvation? Where is the boundary between human action and divine gift? And what do we mean by God anyway? The next post will continue along this line of thought.