Now we come to the
interesting part . . .
An especially fascinating
conclusion arising from scientific studies
of the innate and unconscious human moral system is that it is implicitly much
more sophisticated and clever than philosophers tend necessarily to allow.
Research
would seem to show that humans are programmed to judge the greater good in
terms more varied than simply the good of the greatest number. There are circumstances where equations drawn
up in terms of the interests of the greatest number will instinctively hold
sway. But equally there are situations
where this will not be the case—where more complicated and mysterious
algorithms seem to come into play.
To
put it simply, the research would seem to show that there is an innate
resistance within us as human beings to the deliberate exploitation of other individuals
to further our own—implicitly selfish—ends.
This of course doesn’t mean that we don’t do it; but rather that there
is a certain frisson, expressed perhaps in terms of conscience, that we need
overcome first. And not just for selfish
ends either, but for any end, no matter how praiseworthy.
At
the same time, there seems to be what must be a logically related element within
us that is prepared to allow a moral acceptance of collateral damage arising in
pursuit of a legitimate cause.
The
best way to describe this is in terms of a war, in which the forces with the
demonstrable right on their side lay siege to an enemy city. Should the city fall, it will bring nearer
the end of the war. It is also
inevitable that in the course of the shelling several hundred people are likely
to be killed. An alternative plan is to
parade a dozen prisoners before the city walls with the intention of killing
them unless the enemy surrenders.
Now
it would seem, in the first case, to be scientifically expected that the response
from any random sample of individuals surveyed would be a majority vote—over
ninety percent—in favour of the moral legitimacy of such an outcome. In the second case, and by much the same
margin, however, the answer was most likely, and equally instinctively, to be
no.
Now
the outline I am presenting here is not directly culled from the scientific
data. It is, rather, my interpretation
of that data, and of the conclusions that seem to me to be implicitly contained
in it. At the same time, the process of
arriving at it has provoked some interesting associations.
The
first concerns the verse in John’s Gospel, where Caiphas, the High Priest, speaks
of Jesus: You know nothing: nor do you
understand that it is for your advantage for one man to die, for the sake of
the people, and not to have the whole nation destroyed. Reading this, it is hard not to believe that
John, or whoever wrote John’s Gospel, had not some clear knowledge and appreciation
of a moral prohibition against deliberately using or sacrificing individuals, for
even seemingly worthwhile ends, highlighting the fact by means of this negative
example.
There
is also, of course, the statement of Benjamin Franklin’s, which has its origin as
far back as at least mediaeval times, that ‘it is better 100 guilty Persons should escape than that one
innocent Person should suffer . . .’
The
second thing is that the existence of such a principle, which outlaws the misuse
of individuals, even in pursuit of what seem positive ends, means that all one
really has to sacrifice is oneself, and might go some way to some way to
finally resolving a problem from early Christian times, when there were seemingly
various ‘lost’ gospels claiming, no matter how ridiculously, that Jesus didn’t
actually die on the cross, that it was instead Judas or Simon of Cyrene or someone
else.
If
such an inbuilt moral principle, as has been described, for protection of the
innocent individual exists, and existed at the time of Jesus, then quite
clearly it had to be Jesus who died
on the cross.
This
mailing has strayed into places it wasn’t intended to go on setting out. But I write purely as an observer, someone
for a long time fascinated by the various matters discussed. As I say, my interest is purely neutral and
prompted mainly by curiosity.