Beyond and Below Human


Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov thinks he is above "good and evil." Such peasant ideals, he thinks, apply to a lesser class of men, to those servile subjects of natural law. Morality, social responsibility, and individual duty--these are all leftover ghosts from a deceased superstitious morality. They have long left the corpse of some dead church or government. Feodore Dostoevsky in his epic Crime and Punishment casts this grim antihero as a forerunner for some growing philosophies of his day (C&P, 3rd ed., George Gibian, Ed., New York: Norton, 1989). Raskolnikov attempts the superhuman, or shall we say inhuman, act of transcending conventional morality with a deliberate act of murder. In typical fashion, as taken from the pages of Greek tragedy, the harder he runs the less he escapes himself. Raskolnikov, in trying to be a God becomes a demon instead. And so goes the barbarism of men whose arms exceed their heart, or, if we may retranslate, whose technological ability exceeds their moral sensitivity.

Philosophers may recognize bits of Friedrich Nietzsche's philosophy in the terms "superhuman," or "above good and evil." Those educated elite can revel in that privileged pleasure. What may elude even them however is that Raskolnikov is not merely a thought experiment to challenge Nietzsche, this rascal of a character is no more than the logical outworking of secular humanism. Few scholars took the idea of non-religious mortality to the grave extremes that Nietzsche did, but where else could such logical outworkings lead? As Dostoevsky shows, the deification of man as the supreme value makes devils out of mortals. This character is every society that attempts to make "might" its "right." He is every person who says that, "Morality is relative."  He is each individual who realized that convention, in itself, is just a majority vote, no more "good" than any other popular evil. He is everyone who let his ability determine his morality. Technology is one of those abilities which becomes monstrous unless informed with a humble human soul. Technology can be angelic or demonic, but at base, it is at least a powerful beast. If that beast is to be humane, it must draw its breath from the same source Adam did, from God himself.

Nuclear power is one big bicep on that beast of human technology. We may hope that nuclear production will recede to obscurity and that human will would incline to angelic purity. Or we may hope that nuclear powers are redirected to positive purposes such as dissolving hurricanes or destroying incoming meteorites. However such powerful beasts rarely play nicer than they have to. Technology can be no more grand than its master is good. Nuclear powered neighbors will continue to mount their arsenals and brandy about their boom sticks as long as power and fear inspire them.

At the risk of oversimplying, let us say that fear and power are the main motivators for nuclear proliferation. Setting aside obviously constructive uses for nuclear energy such as nuclear power plants, fear and power are the chief impetus for man's fascination with nuclear power. Would it not follow then that people dominated instead by altruism, courage and wisdom, would stand against aggressive uses of nuclear force? Sure, we are painting here with a broad brush whereas wisdom distinguishes bristles. But we can at least admit that no matter what kind or amount of nuclear weapons there are in the world, if men were angels we would be in no danger.

What then should be done to stop nuclear proliferation? People must first address the war in their own souls. Our public victories at peace and charity are but natural extensions of a longer harder victory in private. It is easy to talk about morality in the abstract and talk about war and violence in the public domain but we squirm when forced to look at our own finger prints on the  gun. War rages in the world because it rages in each us.  Like Raskalnikov we are deeply conflicted people because we each add evil to the world yet still we want to think of ourselves as justified and good. But if we try to make our own morality in the process, as if Gods ourselves, we may become the devils--whether we gallantly stride into evil as Raskolnikov did or we subtly slip there as unwitting relativists, the destination is the same. There we are driven more by base instincts like lust, fear, power, and greed since the higher, harder virtues are thereby less accessible. So each of us must admit our part in feeding this deadly nuclear culture with our contributions of arrogance, ethnocentrism, foolishness, racism, egoism, and isolationism.

Second men must apply the peace in their own souls to their piece of the world. Again, I speak vaguely, but I mean simply that it is not enough for people to wish good things and do good things in private, there is need for a public practice of peace. The chief virtue in this task is humility. How revolutionary would it be if the G8 summit began first with a time of repentance among each of the world leaders, confessing the evils of their country and themselves?  How radical a shift would we see in world politics if the united nations opened its yearly sessions with the giving of gifts--a new gift to a different randomly selected nation each year? True these examples might be little more than roses on a coffin, a dying gift for an already dead cause--but only creativity prevents us from finding other live expressions of peace that might make a difference.

Third, of course, no amount of policy or institutionalism will make men good, so there is need for individual peacemakers--master diplomats--who will put their very lives in the balance between feuding people groups lobbying, pleading, traveling, giving, and sacrificing themselves to muster bits of peace between nuclear enemies. These are an elitely qualified group and they will more likely come from the pools of natural law and the fear of God than from the oceans of moral relativism.

Fourth, and I say this gravely, righteous nations must earn a noble reputation on the world stage as both good and strong, retaining the strongest of nuclear weapons to defend decency itself. I see no other option in this natural world. Goodness must be enforced because it is anything but natural. It is a Platonic pipe dream to think that mankind will be good just because he has been taught the good, has observed the good, and knows everything about the good. Were man basically good and selfless then communism would be one of the crowning achievements of human invention. But, as it happens, communism has proved to be one of the most deadly miscalculations man has imagined. And so we have the great plague latent in secular humanism. If man is believed to be basically good and is likewise esteemed as the highest value then what prevents him from becoming a law to himself? What prevents him from renaming evil "good?" Once man is a law to himself, his invented "good" eventually proves his own wickedness.

The book does not end in despair, and neither should our world story. Like Raskolnikov at the close of the book, we too may find redemption, but not without the humility that leads to repentance, and both of these leading to a wise and loving defense of goodness in an all-too-evil world.