by Peter Wygnański, edited by Vesa Hautala

In this post, we are sharing a talk given by Peter Wygnański at the EA for Christians Academic Workshop that we have abbreviated for the blog (the editor takes responsibility of any shortcomings that may have resulted from this). A recording of the talk is available here.

It is hard to imagine what it must have been like, especially on hot summer days. The Houses of Parliament by the river were directly affected, and fear of disease forced parliamentarians to act in their own self-interest.  It motivated a course of action that had a secondary effect of benefits for future generations. Effective reasons to motivate actions that are to benefit humanity’s future, especially the long-term future, are those that impact the experience of today.

If I am to make some sacrifice for the sake of a temporally distant good, I must 

1. acknowledge some moral standard that requires I do so

2. perceive an opportunity to act meaningfully

3. experience motivation to uphold that principle.

Parliamentarians in the 1850s recognised the value of a clean river, were in just the right place to make a difference, and they had plenty of motivation to do so. Action was taken. 

First the term "secular hope" must be explained. The hopeful gaze toward the future that is commonly found among longtermists did not spring up out of a philosophical vacuum. The monotheistic revolution of the ancient world broke out of a cyclical conception of time towards an idea that history is pointed to an end – a view which Christians still hold. Later a secular dream of progress replaced faith in providence. 

More recently, though, the inevitability of progress has been called into question. With God and the inevitability of progress removed, optimistic nihilism is the remaining option: Human experience is just cosmic coincidence, so our experience is all that matters; if the universe has no purpose, then we get to dictate what its purpose is; if the universe has no principles, the only principles relevant are the ones we decide on. There is no reason not to have fun, do what makes us feel good, and there are bonus points if you make the lives of other people better, more bonus points if you help build towards a utopia of a galaxy teeming with blissful human beings.

However, ‘bonus points’ are an ineffective motivator for making sacrifices for the sake of future generations, and the prioritisation of individual freedom undermines connections between future benefits and present day experience that effective motivation requires.

There are challenges for optimistic nihilists, as there are for all secular ethical approaches, in even justifying, in principle, care for humanity’s future: Utilitarians are paralysed by humanity’s potentially vast future; Promoters of duties wrestle to account for corresponding rights amongst people who do not yet exist; Contractualists struggle to strike up hypothetical agreements with future generations.

These sorts of efforts point us in the right direction but feel like they are straining against self-imposed limits of method. A second challenge is that relativism accompanies optimistic nihilism. This makes it difficult to determine what a good future would look like, and it is difficult to work towards a flourishing human future without some sense of what that means. There is in fact a great danger: that we abandon our values, fail to pass on the treasures we have received, and the collective wisdom about human flourishing, form an ideological aversion to limiting the self-determination of future people.

Here I can begin to outline how a Christian worldview can help. A belief in objective good suggests that hope for the future is bound to a commitment that what one values, what makes life worth living, should endure. The right question is not which needs future human beings will have, but which needs they should have. It is for us to advocate the apparent regress from modern secular interpretations of history to their ancient religious pattern. This is justified by the realisation that we find ourselves more or less at the end of the modern rope which has worn too thin to give hopeful support.

More practically: The Christian faith has a firm set of values to inform a widely shared vision of humanity’s future, evading the paralysis of uncertainty, and avoiding the tragedies that could arise in building a future for humanity without a sense of the human person. The Christian faith has sources of moral growth, building up people of faith as a living stone in the brotherhood of the Church, a fraternity which draws me close to the suffering or flourishing of the future Christian family. The Christian Faith dares to speak to secular power in a way that is increasingly scarce and so could play a unique role in promoting civilisational virtues, and a moral conversion towards greater care of future generations. The Christian Faith rejects the priority of freedom and self-determination that gives rise to temporal parochialism, restoring connections with future generations as it treasures its past. The core of the Gospel message is to love all of humanity as one would the closest family. Why could this not include future generations? The situation is new, but the potential is significant; the unique contribution an authentic Christian imagination offers for motivating care for humanity’s future, that is lacking in alternative accounts.

Footnotes