In our last episode, we claimed
that games are inevitably composed of givens.
Further, we said these givens have what I call the Absurd Property of
Givens—which means that it is absurd to sit down to a game and then complain
about the injustice of the rules. The
person who stands over a game in progress may be a complainer, but if he has
not committed himself to playing, he is not at any rate absurd when he wonders
why pawns are so restricted in their movements.
These preliminaries bring us to
the threshold of another important gaggle of doubts—theodicy. Theodicy is the study of the justice of
God. When people say things like “If God
is all-powerful and all-good, then the existence of suffering proves that he is
one or the other, but not both,” they are dealing with theodicy.
I wish now to present a view of
evil which as far as I can tell removes that kind of doubt. I hesitate to say that most people will find
my view palatable, even if they applaud its consistency.
Let’s first introduce some new
terminology. We say, following von Mises,*
that when we cannot analyze something, it is dubbed an ultimate given to
signify the uselessness of further reasoning.
For example, the pawn’s moves
form an ultimate given in chess, since there is no way to account for them.
Again, I may divide the word
undoable into three parts: un, do,
able. Each part has its own meaning which contributes to the meaning of the word as a whole. However, none of the three parts can be
broken down any further. The old question,
“Which part of no do you not understand?” actually illustrates this point very
nicely. Therefore, the meaning of un, do
and able are ultimate givens.
Again, I may look at my life as a
whole and affirm that both the incredible universe in which I find myself and
the main facts of my personal existence—the brevity of my existence, the
uncertainty of the aims I pursue during my fleeting life, the absolute
certainty of disease, frustration and mortality—are givens. Furthermore, these are givens from which I
cannot excuse myself in order to get a better view of the whole. I cannot step back, invent or find another
universe and congratulate myself for a new and improved lot in life. All the givens which I face are forced upon
me.
In short, all my questions about
theodicy—Why do I have to suffer? Why
does anyone suffer? Why do people
die? Why can I not be wiser sooner?—are
absurd.
Just as we have no patience with
a man who announces that he will play a game of chess and spends the entire game whining about the unfairness of the rules or
the dimensions of the board, so we should have no patience with people who ask
absurd questions about life and the universe.
Since we cannot check out at any point in order to rewind, revise and
replay, the only rational course is to accept the facts which give rise to
theodicy as ultimate givens.
Just as a man who complains about
the injustice of chess rules is not really playing chess, so the man who
complains about the injustice of life is not really living. Justice is swift in these cases. If you are not really playing chess, you are
very likely to lose; if you are not really living, what little time you have
will not only be wasted but will be even more miserable than necessary.
*Human Action: A Treatise on
Economics (Auburn, Alabama: Ludwig von Mises Institute, 1998), p. 21.
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