July 15, 2008

Why do you do what is right, rather than what is wrong? That is hardly a new question. It troubled the minds of the ancients. Some felt that humans are naturally drawn to virtue, but they were hard-pressed to explain why some individuals seemed to resist this impulse. Others argued that society had to make a firm impression upon the young, inculcating a desire for virtue and character that was more external than internal.

Fast forward and the Victorians in Britain were convinced that a lack of virtue could be traced to either heredity or deprivation. Assuming the British middle class as normative, the Victorians offered the advice famously advocated by Jiminy Cricket to Pinocchio -- "Let your conscience be your guide."

Experience indicates, consistent with what the Bible teaches, that this advice has limited value. The conscience is a human capacity for sure, part of the moral sense that testifies of the imago Dei, but it is just as deformed by the Fall as any other capacity. Conscience alone explains nothing. Many of the most heinous acts in human history have been done by individuals with a clear conscience. The conscience can lie, rationalize, and deceive.

More recently, moral philosophers have settled on a more clearly secular theory of morality -- rational choice theory. According to rational choice theory, people tend to settle on a moral code that fits their needs and leads, or is likely to lead, to their desired outcomes. In other words, individuals make a rational choice. A young woman might make a rational choice not to engage in premarital sex because she does not want to harm her reputation or opportunities or marriage. A young man might not shoplift because it would harm his chances of advancement. Rational choice theorists argue that their theory can explain virtually any human behavior, including moral choice.

We must admit that there is ample evidence to support this theory, at least in many cases of moral choice. This is a very significant insight for Christian theology, for it reminds us that when people make a choice to do good, it does not follow that they are good.

Take the example of two ten-year-old boys. One is considered a "good" boy because he is pleasant, respectful, obedient, and rarely breaks rules. The other boy is a "bad" boy who is markedly unpleasant, disrespectful, disobedient, and regularly flaunts his breaking of rules. Without doubt, we would rather that our own 10-year-old son, if we had one, would sit next to the first boy in class, rather than the second. But is the first boy really a "good" boy, and s the second really "bad?"

In reality, the first boy may have decided that being "good" works for him. His parents expect it of him. He is rewarded when he obeys (even if the reward is what merely comes his way with parental pleasure) and he is punished when he disobeys. He may have learned to play the game -- a game with far larger rewards later in life. Life goes much easier for this lad when he behaves well and is seen to do so -- so he does.