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Consider a simple argument that worshipping God is wrong. This world is not a nice place. Not only do humans persecute and inflict other evils on each other, but millions of people suffer and die every year from preventable poverty-related causes, and it seems that few, if any, deserve their plights. It is unclear that we should want to be associated with, never mind worship, a being with the capacity to make the world a much better place but whose beneficence (or knowledge) permits things to go on in the ways that they do. At first blush, contempt is a more fitting response to God than worship. But, assuming God exists, perhaps we have reason to accept, if not worship, him in any case. Humans are comparably limited. We do evil unto each other, and, insofar as millions of deaths are preventable, our failure to prevent them is a failure of humans as well as of God. If we could (and should) have saved many lives and have not, our moral failings present us with our own, human, problem of evil and suffering. So, if we should reject God because so many people suffer, then we should reject ourselves when we could avoid evil and help others too. However, this article argues that we have practical, moral, and epistemic reasons to accept rather than reject ourselves, and similarly we have reasons to accept God. And if we have reason to accept God, then we have some reason to worship God. Worship is a way of acknowledging our own limitations and can help us survive, flourish, and help others in the face of the problems of human evil and suffering.
Within bioethics, two issues dominate the discourse on suffering: its nature (who can suffer and how) and whether suffering is ever grounds for providing, withholding, or discontinuing interventions. The discussion has focused on the subjective experience of suffering in acute settings or persistent suffering that is the result of terminal, chronic illness. The bioethics literature on suffering, then, is silent about a crucial piece of the moral picture: agents’ intersubjectivity. This paper argues that an account of the intersubjective effects of suffering on caregivers could enrich theories of suffering in two ways: first, by clarifying the scope of suffering beyond the individual at the epicenter, i.e., by providing a fuller account of the effects of suffering (good or bad). Second, by drawing attention to how and why, in clinical contexts, the intersubjective dimensions of suffering are sometimes as important, if not more important, than whether an individual is suffering or not.
Increased interest in suffering has given rise to different accounts of what suffering is. This paper focuses the debate between experientialists and non-experientialists about suffering. The former hold that suffering is necessarily experiential—for instance, because it is necessarily unpleasant or painful; the latter deny this—for instance, because one can suffer when and because one’s objective properties are damaged, even if one does not experience this. After surveying how the two accounts fare on a range of issues, the paper presents a decisive argument in favor of experientialism. The central claim is that non-experientialist accounts cannot accommodate cases of suffering that are virtuous and that directly contribute to some objective good.
Chapter 6 returns to H. G. Wells to offer a fuller account of this writer’s longstanding fascination with animal experimentation, a practice he supported. Analysis of The Wonderful Visit (1895), The Island of Dr Moreau (1896), short stories, and essays reveal this author’s investment in contemporary scientific debates surrounding the thorny issues surrounding non-human pain introduced in Chapter 5. Despite differences in genre and tone, the selected texts each exploit the uneasy relationship between injury, experience, and expression to raise compelling questions about pain’s purpose and limits. The period’s vivisection debates were an important and productive context for Wells who capitalised on the ambivalence they produced, undermined the generic expectations of writings about the subject, and considered whether literary and linguistic methods could uniquely capture – or even solve – the problem of pain.
There is an ongoing debate in bioethics regarding the nature of suffering. This conversation revolves around the following question: What kind of thing, exactly, is suffering? Specifically, is suffering a subjective phenomenon—intrinsically linked to personhood, personal values, feelings, and lived experience—or an objective affair, amenable to impersonal criteria and existing as an independent feature of the natural world? Notably, the implications of this determination are politically and ethically significant. This essay attempts to bring clarity to the subjective versus objective debate in suffering scholarship by examining the history of the concept of “objectivity,” and putting that history in conversation with physician Eric Cassell’s famous theory of suffering. It concludes with a novel, albeit tentative, definition of suffering: suffering is the experience of a gap between how things are and how things ought to be.
Covenant, community and communion are ways in which God’s means and God’s ends are identical. Covenant is not the ‘Plan B’ after the failure of creation in the fall; it is the fulfilment of the reason for creation, and the anticipation of the true covenant, the incarnation itself. God’s love for Israel goes far beyond any instrumental goodwill: Israel is God’s child, God’s spouse, God’s companion forever. Communion is the centre of the Christian faith: being with but also being together. Communion and community name the two aspirations of church. The one is about being in, and bringing others into, relationship with God; the other is about relating civilly, cordially and sacrificially with one another, and attending to the things that need doing to function humanly. When Jesus talks of the realm of God, he is talking about this communion and community becoming a reality for all people.
The Introduction reviews the widely shared understanding of Schopenhauer as an apolitical thinker. It then articulates the challenge to this view. Schopenhauer, this book argues, defined politics as the rational management of perpetual human strife. The Introduction lays out the two main steps for recovering the full scope of Schopenhauer’s political thought. First, his attitude to politics must be historically contextualized. Against the backdrop of his era and the political ideas of other thinkers, the individual profile and polemical significance of Schopenhauer’s conception of politics come into view more clearly. Second, his textually dispersed political ideas must be assembled into a recognizable whole. Many of Schopenhauer’s reflections on political skills, values, ideologies, and regimes can be found in sections that do not explicitly deal with politics, and his core conception of politics becomes visible through a series of contrasts between politics and religion, politics and morality, and politics and sociability.
This chapter draws together the whole argument of the book to face the defining question that it must answer, and through that answer to unfurl the full significance of incarnational theology. The question is, what happens when God’s purpose to be with us now and forever meets with a refusal? Addressing the question of humankind’s alienation from God, itself and the wider creation is not, from the point of view of incarnational theology, the central dynamic of Christianity, as it is in conventional accounts. But the utter with-ness of Jesus inevitably encounters the profound, widespread and powerful resistance to God’s embrace: and the truth of God is thereby revealed like never before. Jesus does not ‘come to die’: yet in his death and resurrection he exposes the forces that oppose him and displays the dynamic that sent him and settles the only questions about existence and essence that ultimately matter.
Scholars have observed that Schopenhauer did not develop much of a political philosophy but have failed to recognize that this is a deliberate deflationary strategy. Schopenhauer’s aim was to circumscribe the function of politics narrowly and assign it a place in a broader range of human responses to the agony of existence. However, his attempt to differentiate politics from religion and the state from the church led to contradictions. One the one hand, Schopenhauer favored a strong state that could control social strife and noted that political leadership can rely on religious justifications to ensure stability. On the other hand, he observed that state-affiliated religious institutions often eliminate critical perspectives on their doctrines by silencing philosophical reflection, an attitude he could not accept. Schopenhauer thus ended up with an ambivalent conception of statehood as simultaneously protective of life and property and damaging to free inquiry.
Ethicists frequently suppose that suffering has special moral significance. It is often claimed that a main goal of medicine—perhaps its primary goal—is the alleviation of human suffering. Following Eric Cassell and others, this essay considers suffering understood as the experience of distress—negative emotions—in response to threats to something that one cares about. It examines whether, on this value-based account of suffering, we should accept the claim that suffering has special moral significance. It argues that we should not: suffering does not add significantly to the value of other human interests and rarely changes our moral obligations itself; it merely seems to have strong moral relevance because it often attends to interests that matter. This is because negative emotions themselves have only limited moral significance, which is due to the fact that their primary mental role is to indicate to us the relative importance of non-emotional goods.
This article explores Eric Mascall’s contribution to theodicy and (possibly) providence. It offers a taxonomy of Christian responses to the problem of evil: those which see suffering as instrumental to the purposes of God, those which see suffering as inevitable within the purposes of God, and those which see suffering as inimical to the purposes of God. It offers a critique of all three families of such responses. It then locates Mascall’s theodicy on that ‘map’. It argues that Mascall’s proposal, if accepted, removes the main argument against the inimical family of responses, which it sees as fitting best with the healing ministry of Jesus, as being most unambiguously committed to the goodness of God, and as being the most pastorally sensitive of the three categories. It also raises, without advocating, the possibility that all divine action may be indirect, thus safeguarding the non-coerciveness of God without compromising eschatological hope.
Arthur Schopenhauer (1788–1860) lived through an era of great political turmoil, but previous assessments of his political thought have portrayed him as a pessimistic observer with no constructive solutions to offer. By assembling and contextualizing Schopenhauer's dispersed comments on political matters, this book reveals that he developed a distinct conception of politics. In opposition to rising ideological movements such as nationalism or socialism, Schopenhauer denied that politics can ever bring about universal emancipation or fraternal unity. Instead, he viewed politics as a tool for mitigating rather than resolving the conflicts of a fundamentally imperfect world. Jakob Norberg's fascinating book reconstructs Schopenhauer's political ideas and shows how they relate to the dominant debates and trends during the period in which he lived. This title is also available as Open Access on Cambridge Core.
The global and historical entanglements between articifial intelligence (AI)/robotic technologies and Buddhism, as a lived religion and philosophical tradition, are significant. This chapter sets out three key sites of interaction between Buddhism and AI/robotics. First, Buddhism, as an ontological model of mind (and body) that describes the conditions for what constitutes artificial life. Second, Buddhism defines the boundaries of moral personhood and thus the nature of interactions between human and non-human actors. And finally, Buddhism can be used as an ethical framework to regulate and direct the development of AI/robotics technologies. It argues that Buddhism provides an approach to technology that is grounded in the interdependence of all things, and this gives rise to both compassion and an ethical commitment to alleviate suffering.
According to the Bayesian brain hypothesis, the brain can be viewed as a predictive machine, such that predictions (or expectations) affect how sensory inputs are integrated. This means that in many cases, affective responses may depend more on the subject’s perception of the experience (driven by expectations built on past experiences) rather than on the situation itself. Little research to date has applied this concept to affective states in animals. The aim of this paper is to explore how the Bayesian brain hypothesis can be used to understand the affective experiences of animals and to develop a basis for novel predictions regarding animal welfare. Drawing from the literature illustrating how predictive processes are important to human well-being, and are often impaired in affective disorders, we explore whether the Bayesian brain theories may help understanding animals’ affective responses and whether deficits in predictive processes may lead to previously unconsidered welfare consequences. We conclude that considering animals as predictive entities can improve our understanding of their affective responses, with implications for basic research and for how to provide animals a better life.
In Canada, there is interest in expanding medical assistance in dying (MAID) to include advance requests (AR) for people living with dementia (PLWD). However, operationalizing the intolerable suffering criterion for MAID in ARs for PLWD is complicated by the Canadian legal context—in which MAID is understood as a medical intervention and suffering is conceptualized as subjective—and the degenerative nature of dementia. ARs that express a wish to receive MAID when the PLWD develops pre-specified impairments are problematic because people are unlikely to accurately predict the conditions that will cause intolerable suffering. ARs that express a wish to receive MAID when the PLWD exhibits pre-specified behaviors that likely represent suffering are problematic because they are inconsistent with the subjective conceptualization of suffering. Further research is required to determine whether adopting an objective conceptualization of suffering is justified in these cases and, if so, how to reliably identify intolerable suffering in PLWD.
Romantic writing in English developed a rich repertoire of variations on the classical distinction between undertaking and undergoing an action, one that descends to us, for example, in the grammatical distinction between the active and passive voice. Shelley’s central writings often foreground this kind of distinction, as when in Act I of Prometheus Unbound, Prometheus tells Jupiter: “I weigh not what you do but what you suffer.” Yet, in Shelley’s case, suffering is more particularly identified with the experience of pain and sorrow, and nowhere more clearly so than in Prometheus Unbound, where the Titan is repeatedly defined by his suffering, and his suffering is repeatedly cast as his capacity not only to confront the pain and sorrow of the world but also to bear them. Such radical passivity would become crucial to Shelley’s proto-Gandhian doctrine of revolutionary nonviolence, as spelled out in his Philosophical View of Reform, written in the wake of Peterloo just weeks after the completion of Prometheus Unbound. This doctrine, which Gandhi would have encountered in his London days from Henry Salt, would be eventually embraced, mutatis mutandis, by Christian leaders of the American civil rights movement who would have been otherwise unsympathetic to Shelley’s atheism, and in nonviolent movements around the world ever since.
Religious protest, such as the protest that Job expresses, reveals the manners in which believers experience the absurd while hanging on to God. The purpose of this article is to explore the “grammar” of this paradoxical faith stance by bringing Kierkegaard and Camus to bear upon it, and thereby to show the “family resemblance” between Job, Camus’s “absurd man,” and the Kierkegaardian believer. I begin with a discussion of experiences of the absurd that give rise to religious protest. I then turn to Kierkegaard to explore the manners in which “faith’s thought” renders the “experience of the absurd” a religious one, while pushing the believer further into the absurd. I end with a discussion of Job as an absurd rebel in Camus’s sense.
According to a well-established rule of the law of armed conflict, warring parties are prohibited from employing weapons, means, and methods of warfare of a nature to cause superfluous injury or unnecessary suffering. Agreement about the foundational nature of this rule can, however, easily conceal the disagreement as to its precise meaning and efficacy. This paper considers the origins of the rule in question, and how key aspects of the rule are interpreted. It then examines one of the more contentious issues about the rule, namely whether it is only concerned with the inherent properties of particular weapons or whether it also deals with the use of weapons generally.
Cattle and sheep horns have the potential to grow in such a way that the horn bends toward the animal’s head and, if left untreated, may penetrate the skin, causing pressure, pain, and suffering. According to the Swedish Animal Welfare Act, animals must be looked after in a way that prevents ingrown horns; otherwise, the person responsible for the animal may be prosecuted. Here, we present a review of 32 legal cases that occurred in Sweden between 2008 and 2022 for which the charge involved horn-related anomalies in cattle or sheep. The aim being to investigate the nature of these horn-related anomalies and the circumstances under which they occur. Of the legal cases, 53% were discovered during official animal welfare control on farms and 44% at an abattoir during pre-slaughter inspection. These include extreme injuries, e.g. both horns penetrating the periosteum into the skull bone, or a horn penetrating into the eye or oral cavity. The reasons offered by the accused for failing to detect animals with horn-related anomalies included that the animal appeared normal, that it was long-haired, shy, or hard to reach, or that the horns had not undergone gradual growth but had accidentally or suddenly penetrated the skin. Overall, 81% of the cases led to convictions; however, none of these resulted in imprisonment. Reasons for acquittals included insufficient crime description or evidence as to how the horn-related anomaly occurred or of the animal being exposed to suffering. A number of recommendations are provided that could help limit the occurrence of ingrown horns.