Evil in the World: The Big Picture (Column 547)

In Column 541 I dealt with the question of Halakhah and morality, namely the moral meaning of Halakhah and the relationship between Halakhah and morality. My conclusion was that these are two independent categories. Similar questions arise regarding the relationship between reality and morality, that is, the meaning of evil in the world and its relation to God. These questions were sharply highlighted following the recent columns about the remarks of Rabbi Shmuel Eliyahu (Columns 543 and 546), especially the last column which touched on this more directly. In the comments to that column (see especially the thread that begins here with Dror, and the addition of the “cobbler’s mate” I was graciously given here) and also in the question here (which apparently arose due to that column), the issues became even sharper and a discussion developed which I thought had no place there because I had already addressed it—but it became clear to me that this was not so. In the course of these discussions I was surprised to discover that although I have quite a few references to the question of evil in the world—both in the Q&A (such as here and many more; search: “natural evil” and “human evil”) and in certain columns (like Column 214 which I mentioned there), and of course in the second book of the trilogy—I have not yet written here on the site a column that presents the full picture on this matter. So here it is. Afterwards you can reassess whether I indeed received a “cobbler’s mate,” or perhaps it was a “Pyrrhic mate.” In my view, neither.

I must preface that, because of the breadth of the subject, I will be brief here on issues that have been discussed elsewhere—even if some are very important and essential to my discussion here. I will refer where possible to other places, since my aim here is to sketch the outline of the full picture, even at the expense of detail on specific points. If someone struggles with or wishes to comment on a particular point in my words, I would be very grateful if before posting the comment they would glance at the sources I have linked. It is entirely possible that I addressed there the very difficulty that troubles them.

Point of Departure: God’s Goodness

The starting point for the discussion is God’s goodness. There are countless sources for this from Scripture and, of course, from Hazal and the entire literature of Jewish thought (for those to whom all this speaks): from “A God of faithfulness and without iniquity; just and upright is He,” to “The Lord is good to all, and His compassion is over all His works,” and many more. There is no point in elaborating on this here due to its obviousness. In any case, this is the starting point of this discussion, and for one who does not accept it, the discussion is pointless. Therefore I place this assumption at the outset.

The Difficulty: Reality Is Not Perfectly Good

One can argue about whether reality is good or bad. Seemingly, Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel disputed this (Eruvin 13b), and in conclusion all agreed that it would have been more comfortable for a person not to have been created. One can debate the meaning of that conclusion, but it is quite clear that reality has bad aspects as well, and for our purposes this suffices. There are people or groups who in at least some situations suffer greatly, and the question that arises is: how does God do this? If He is good, I would expect the works of His hands to be good. It is not plausible that a good being produces deeds so evil. Many have already cried out about this: “Shall the Judge of all the earth not do justice?” “Why do the way of the wicked prosper?” and the like. One illustration of this difficulty is “the righteous who suffers,” but that is only an example of the more general problem of evil. People and animals suffer in this world, and even where there is guilt it is not always possible to find proportionality between what they did—that is, the degree of their guilt and what they deserve—and what they actually endure.

Background Assumption: Active Divine Involvement in the World

Clearly, in the background of this difficulty lies the assumption that God, the Creator of the world, also has the capacity to control all that happens in it. He created our world and governs it, and therefore the question arises whether such governance is consistent with His goodness. This assumption itself requires discussion. It is clear that God has control over all that occurs—that is, He can intervene and change as He wishes. But it does not appear that He makes use of this capacity.

Regarding the extent of His involvement, three positions can be presented: (a) Some will say that He produces everything that happens in the world—from the eggs of lice to the horns of rams—everything is the work of God’s hands. No blade of grass grows without an angel over it telling it to grow. (b) Others think there are events in the world that are God’s doing and others that are not. He is involved in the world, but not everything that happens here is from Him. See this in detail in the article by Rabbi Shmuel Ariel. (c) I have written more than once that, in my humble opinion, He is probably not involved here at all (perhaps except for sporadic cases of which there is no way to know).

According to my approach, stories of miracles and of providential “hands” experienced by people are usually the result of hasty inference and lack of probabilistic literacy. So too with historical processes (such as redemption and the establishment of the State of Israel, victories in wars, and the like). True, there are clear sources that He is involved—from the Bible, Hazal, and all the commentators—but to my judgment reality teaches otherwise. In practice this does not happen, and one who is honest with himself must admit it. At the very least there is no indication of His involvement. I will not return to this here, for I have dealt with it elsewhere at length (see at length in Columns 280 and 298 and the references there).

The biblical sources that clearly indicate His involvement can be explained in several ways. I suggested there that God changes policy, and as the world and humanity mature, He grants them more independence—until in our days He is no longer involved at all (like a parent and children). But whether one accepts this or not, reality itself speaks a very clear language. The fact that we were educated to view a sober look at reality as the counsel of the evil inclination, and that piety obligates us to deny common sense—that is a problem of the educators, not ours. In my eyes, a person must maintain intellectual honesty even if his conclusions are labeled “heresy.” Truth is never disgraceful, nor can it be heresy (even if various preachers insist on presenting it as such and explain to us constantly that faith demands ignoring common sense).

For our purposes here, it is important for me to stress that my conclusion regarding the absence of God’s active involvement in the world is not merely an ad hoc answer to the problem of evil (as I will show below). In those columns I brought very strong arguments for this view even independent of the problem of evil, and I also showed that people actually hold it even if they do not admit it (for fear that it constitutes heresy in a principle).

Back to the Difficulty of Reality and Morality

When a terror attack or traffic accident occurs, for example, voices immediately arise that we do not know the calculations of the Almighty: why it was fitting for those people or children to die. But the assumption is that in some sense they indeed deserved it (stated differently: their death is justified). If it happened, then apparently that is what was supposed to happen—only we do not understand why. I already mentioned here the interview with the cousin of the two children who were murdered in the attack on Friday two weeks ago. He said there that this righteous family accepted the judgment, and everyone there understands that this is apparently what God decided, even if they do not know why. He added that it is clear to everyone that even if the terrorist had not decided to murder them, it would have happened to them in another way (an accident, illness, and so on). Some of you may think these are extreme and unrepresentative statements, but I disagree. They are indeed extreme but very representative. This is the prevalent approach in the public, even if in books and various ideologies there are of course other approaches. Especially when one puts the difficulty squarely before the eyes—then, and only then, everyone immediately discovers that they themselves do not hold such a position. But for some reason this is the typical and prevalent religious discourse.

At the basis of such statements lies the assumption that the event occurred by God’s agency; therefore, if the children were murdered, it is clear that God decided they should die. This brings me back to the three conceptions I described above. Statements like these express the first conception. It is essentially a kind of Druze-style fatalism (“every bullet has an address”). If someone died, apparently he deserved to die, and it would have happened in any case. Note that this is the conclusion both of those who propose explanations for such phenomena (the children were murdered to punish us or their family, or to teach us or their family something, or any other fantasy) and of those who say we do not know the heavenly calculations. The assumption of all is that there is such a calculation—that is, the result is a corollary of some heavenly calculus, which we may not understand.

This approach naturally arouses the difficulty of reality versus morality: if God is good, how can He do such things?! By contrast, one who holds the second approach (that there are things not done by Him) should not resort to such statements, for it may be—and is even highly likely—that this case belongs to the category not wrought by God, since, as recalled, He is righteous and good and His compassion is over all His works. If something bad happened, it likely did not come from Him—“no evil descends from Above.” If so, there is no need to say we do not know heavenly calculations, for it is not at all clear there was any such heavenly calculation here. Needless to say, one who holds the third approach (mine) does not need such statements at all.

According to the last two approaches, there is, of course, a question: why did God not intervene and prevent the suffering and pain? Even if He did not do it with His own hands, we still expect a moral being to intervene and prevent it. This certainly arises according to the second approach. In the third, it is a matter of His principled policy not to intervene, and therefore the difficulty is lesser—though it still requires some explanation.

What Is Moral Conduct?

Many who hold the first (and also the second) position argue that indeed God is good in all His ways, and it is also true that everything that occurs here is His handiwork; nevertheless there is no contradiction between reality and those two assumptions. There are hidden moral considerations underlying God’s conduct, and we do not understand everything. Who can know the mind of the Most High?! Do we understand why a corpse defiles or why pig is forbidden to eat? God’s conduct in the world is in the realm of “decrees” we cannot comprehend.

In Column 541 I presented a similar argument and wrote that it empties morality of content. Killing a baby who did nothing and could do nothing is not moral. There is no possible explanation for it; therefore one cannot say there is an explanation we do not understand. One who tries to argue that such an act is moral due to hidden considerations of one sort or another simply empties the concept “morality” of content. He essentially admits it is not moral, but replaces the meaning of the term “morality.” That is not a solution to the difficulty but a surrender of the assumption that God is moral (in the accepted sense of the term). As recalled, our discussion proceeds on that assumption; hence this dubious “solution” is irrelevant. In Column 457 I explained that such an approach turns the statement about God’s goodness from a claim into a definition, rendering it empty and contentless.

Other Justifications

One could formulate a slightly different justification. True, from the perspective of moral considerations such conduct is improper. Babies who did nothing should not suffer. Period. But God has other considerations, presumably global ones, because of which He nonetheless had to harm those babies. Note that this is not a moral justification, but some other type of justification. For example, a doctor causes pain to his patient in order to heal him. The act is indeed painful to the patient, but it is justified since ultimately it is for the patient’s benefit. Likewise, the suffering of babies is indeed not moral and has no moral justification, but one can still justify it by the existence of other considerations, not from the realm of morality—for example, the tikkun of the sefirah of Netzach in Hod, or an attempt to teach a lesson to the society to which those babies belong, and the like.

Such a direction is of course possible in principle, but even here two difficulties arise:

1. According to this, we cannot offer a moral interpretation for God’s actions, as Rabbi Shmuel Eliyahu, for example, did. It may be that the events in question have various hidden justifications and that indeed there is no moral justification here. For example, how can one infer that the suffering of babies in the earthquake in Turkey is because Turkey is hostile to Israel? Perhaps it is to achieve other hidden aims (Netzach in Hod, and not deterring the wicked Turks from hostility to Israel)? It is manifestly immoral to inflict such suffering on babies; therefore it is quite reasonable that the act has other aims.

But one might answer that God has no alternative way to deter the Turks. The sacrifice of the babies was necessary to achieve the desired and proper outcome. Which brings me to the more substantive difficulty:

2. This is a situation in which an action X that is not moral (the torture and slaughter of babies) is required to achieve an outcome Y that is desirable—spiritually, theologically, or even practically in our world (deterring the Turks, as above). But in such a situation I would expect an omnipotent agent to act otherwise: to bring about Y without needing X. “Is anything too wondrous for the Lord?!” Why not deter the Turks by killing Erdoğan, harming his generals, targeted assassinations of the wicked in the Turkish establishment or even among the public? Why does God resort to the indiscriminate slaughter of thousands? As for the thousands of adults killed—one can feign naivete and claim they were all, to the last, anti-Semites and potential terrorists who happened to gather in the same region in Turkey and Syria (ignoring that a significant part of the quake occurred in a Kurdish area, hardly considered an enemy of Israel). But what guilt do the babies have? Could one not deter our enemies without torturing them to death?

Even I, a mere worm and not a man, could suggest to God a thousand other, more moral ways to achieve that aim. And we have not yet spoken of the fact that those wicked Turks do not know why this calamity befell them; so what is the point of inflicting it? They are not engaging in soul-searching (they do not possess Rabbi Eliyahu’s deep grasp of the heavenly accounts which he “does not understand,” yet that does not stop him from explaining them in great detail to all Israel and the world). I therefore assume they will not change their policy toward Israel because of the disaster. And if it is merely punishment, retribution, or a sanction not intended to deter—then is it justified to inflict such punishment on babies who have not sinned? It is manifestly immoral.

Can One Judge God?

Mordechai, may he live long, in an angry comment to the previous column (see from here onward) argued that God is the Baal HaBayit (as the saying goes: “husband of the house”), since He created the world; therefore He has the right to do here whatever He wishes, including killing and causing suffering to whomever He wants—guilty or not, justified or not. We cannot judge Him for such actions.

Although it is very hard to contend with such resolute faith and such impressive fear of Heaven, this is, of course, nonsense. He is essentially claiming that God is not moral. Even a person who has a “right” to abuse an animal that belongs to him is not moral if he does so. The question is not a legal one of rights but a moral one. Beyond that, God Himself tells us that He acts morally and lovingly toward all His creatures; therefore, we can certainly judge Him on that premise. He perhaps was not obligated to be moral (in my view He was; see Column 457), but if He Himself says He is moral, then the question of the morality of His conduct is certainly in place. Even according to Mordechai’s strange view, there is at least a claim of logical inconsistency, even if not of immorality. One can of course say that His morality is exalted and incomprehensible to mere mortals like me, and certainly it is not our base, inferior human morality. But that, of course, empties the statements about His morality of content and turns them into definitions (see also on this in Column 457). Moreover, the whole discussion about “the righteous who suffers” and the theological ponderings of thinkers throughout the generations—from the Bible to our day—assume that there is room for such questions and propose answers to them. Therefore, one way or another, I am conducting the discussion within that framework.

Between a Question and a Contradiction

It is very important to clarify another point here. Often people do not distinguish between a question and a contradiction (kushya). A question points to a lack of understanding. Thus, for example, a person may wonder why one must don tefillin or not eat pork. I do not understand these commandments, but that says very little about God and much more about me. I assume there is a good answer, although due to my human limitations I do not know it. Nor should this cause me to abandon my obligation to don tefillin—at least if I have trust in God and a commitment to His commands.

That is as far as questions go. By contrast, if I have a contradiction—and certainly if I have an outright inconsistency—the situation is altogether different. For example, suppose I think there is a contradiction between His foreknowledge of the future and our free will; that is a contradiction, not a mere question. Here I have no option to remain committed to both opposing sides without knowing the resolution. The reason is very simple: if I believe He knows everything in advance, then that contradicts the assumption of free will. If so, it turns out I both believe in free will and do not believe in it simultaneously. But that is empty of content. I have uttered words from my mouth (or keyboard), but they have no meaning. Therefore, it is impossible to believe logical contradictions—unless someone clarifies to me that it is not a true logical contradiction.[1]

If so, one cannot say about God a thing and its opposite, and what is somehow called the “doctrine of the unity of opposites” is mere empty verbiage (unless it deals with something that is not a logical opposition). Hence, to our matter: to say that He conducts Himself in a perfectly moral manner and also does acts that are manifestly immoral is a frontal logical contradiction and therefore impossible (see also sources in Column 303 and in this article, though it is not necessary here). To say He is moral yet causes, by His own hand, immense suffering to babies who have not sinned is an oxymoron. By contrast, one can believe that God departs from the laws of nature—that is, performs actions that contravene natural law (miracles)—for there is no principled problem here: the mouth that forbade is the mouth that permitted, and if He created the laws of nature He can also depart from them or suspend them.

The problematic nature of such arguments can also be seen from a slightly different angle. The presence of a contradiction in a system of thought is a proof by contradiction that at least one of its premises is false. If premise X brings me to a contradiction, this is a proof by contradiction that X is false—or alternatively that I must relinquish one of the other premises that led to the contradiction. Just as in mathematics, so in a framework of faith: a contradiction proves that something within that framework is not true.

Moreover, from a logical contradiction one can infer any conclusion (and also its opposite). Therefore one who holds a contradictory set of beliefs, in fact, believes in nothing—or in everything. He believes that God exists and also that He does not, that He is good and also not good, that He is providential and also not, that He took us out of Egypt and also not, that His color is green and also colorless, and so on. This empties our discourse and thought of content, and even for this reason alone such an approach cannot be a real option for us.

Our Logical and Ethical Indifference

Alas, we have become accustomed to living with these contradictions. In recent generations no one gets excited anymore about the problems of evil or “the righteous who suffers.” When we see horrific events like a terror attack, an accident, an earthquake, etc., statements automatically arise: “Ah, this is ‘the righteous who suffers,’” or “We do not know the heavenly calculations,” and thus everything is neatly resolved (and as noted, there are also those who, after this “were it not that I fear,” immediately supply learned explanations). Prophets, commentators, and thinkers have addressed this—so all is fine. But the fact that they addressed it teaches me nothing. After all, answers are not to be found there.

Well, but perhaps we are small and do not understand? Here enters my claim that “the righteous who suffers” is a contradiction, not a question. Evil resulting from a divine act—given the assumption that God is a perfectly moral being—is a contradiction, not a matter of incomprehension. There is a contradiction to the assumption of God’s goodness; hence it is insufficient to claim we do not understand everything. As noted, there is no possible moral explanation for the suffering of babies who have not sinned. An omnipotent being who chooses an immoral path when He has more moral options is an immoral being. One cannot accept His morality in light of the facts we encounter in reality. We are forgiving toward those who themselves have undergone terrible suffering (like Holocaust survivors), but in truth there is no principled difference between those who encountered reality and experienced suffering and those who sit in armchairs and do theology (like me). The former are less inclined to accept such “explanations,” and they are right. If I, from the philosopher’s armchair, permit myself to utter meaningless words that answer nothing and keep living—that does not mean there is any possible justification.

The only way to remain with the belief that God is moral together with a sober look at the world and without emptying the concept “morality” of content is to examine the assumptions that led us to this contradiction (as noted, a contradiction is a proof by contradiction). I now come to this. But first I must distinguish between two kinds of evil.

Two Kinds of Evil: Human and Natural

For the continuation of the discussion we must distinguish between human evil and natural evil (this, too, has arisen on the site more than once and can be found with a simple search). Natural evil is suffering and pain caused by earthquakes, tsunamis, pandemics, and the like. Human evil is suffering and pain caused by people’s voluntary actions (non-volitional acts by people are considered, for our discussion, natural evil; see more below). Each kind of evil requires separate treatment, which I will now do. I will begin with human evil.

Human Evil

Reuven chooses to do an evil act—such as causing suffering or death to Shimon—and succeeds. The first question is whether God did this or Reuven—or perhaps both together (that is, perhaps there is no contradiction between attributing the act to Reuven and attributing it to God)? From the very claim that Reuven did this by choice, it follows that he could also have chosen otherwise. That is, what was done here was not God’s will, and certainly not God’s deed. In fact, this is how one should describe every sinful act (halakhic or moral) done by a person. There is no logic in claiming that God did this through him, not only because this empties his free choice of content but also because if God did it through him there is no reason to blame Reuven. Beyond all that, there is no logic in saying that God did something—or forced us to do something—that He Himself does not want done and even forbade us to do.

If so, it is clear that Reuven can succeed in harming Shimon even if Shimon does not deserve it and even if God did not decide Shimon would be harmed. This is what the Gemara says (Hagigah 5a): “There is one who is swept away without justice.” And R. Hananel there wrote: “For example, a person who killed his fellow.” That is, if Reuven chooses to kill Shimon, he can succeed even if Shimon does not deserve to die. This is the meaning of the possibility (granted to all of us) to choose evil. In Column 436 I elaborated on this and explained that there is no escape from this conclusion. Claims that whatever someone does to us we must have deserved do not hold water logically, and in particular do not cohere with the assumption of free will. This is why God had to harden Pharaoh’s heart so he would do to us what God expected him to do. Without the hardening of the heart, it was up to Pharaoh; he could have decided not to do what God wanted done. Of course, God can take away a person’s free choice or protect the potential victim and cause Reuven to fail to harm him. But in such cases the harm is Reuven’s deed, not God’s.

Thus, when it comes to human evil, the question is not why God causes harm to an innocent person, for He did not cause the harm—it was the other person who decided to harm him. The question here is at most why God did not prevent it—why He did not intervene and take away the perpetrator’s choice if the victim did not deserve to be harmed.

This is already an easier question, for God is not the direct wrongdoer but at most one who did not prevent the harm. In every legal system, and in Halakhah, there is a clear difference between a person who harms another and one who does not prevent the harm or fails to save him from it. This is true regarding people and also regarding God. Still, this leaves us with a question needing an answer—especially with respect to God. We would also expect a moral person to prevent harm if he can. And of a moral and omnipotent being we certainly expect intervention to protect innocent victims and not allow others to harm them for no reason.

There is an important difference between the two questions. If God were the direct wrongdoer, then a priori no explanation would be possible. Above I explained that this is a contradiction, not a question; hence it will not help to say we do not understand and the like. Assuming we are dealing with an innocent person, there can be no explanation—moral or otherwise (see above)—that justifies harming him. But if Reuven is the wrongdoer and the question is only why God did not intervene—here it is a question, not a contradiction, and in my opinion it can indeed have an answer.

Here is my proposal for a possible answer (at least to demonstrate that an answer is possible and that there is no logical contradiction). If God were to intervene, free choice would be taken from people. Whenever someone chose evil God would prevent it. De facto, then, we would have no free choice—perhaps only in a very hypothetical sense (only at the level of desire—what we want to do—and not at the level of what actually occurs). But the fact is that God decided to grant us free will, and apparently it is important to Him that our deeds be done by choice (see in Column 170 a possible explanation for this). R. Akiva explains to Turnus Rufus (Bava Batra 10) that God does not provide for the poor because He wants us to do so by our free choice—even though such a policy risks that the poor not be supported due to the giver’s free choice.

One might have expected that from a certain degree of suffering and above He would indeed intervene and save the victim, but there is here a slippery slope and it is unclear where to draw the line. Why is a small suffering justified? Is the great suffering of one person different from the great suffering of thousands or millions? For each one, his suffering is terrible—whether or not there are others around him who also suffer. Therefore one can understand that God decided to “hand His world over to guardians,” i.e., to give the earth to human beings to act in it, manage it, and make decisions freely—with the responsibility upon them for all the consequences. If the Nazis decide to perpetrate a Holocaust, indeed there are innocent sufferers, but that is the result of a failure of humanity, which creates for itself such suffering. So too when Reuven causes Shimon some harm.

One can view this as a situation in which God stands opposite all humanity as a collective and leaves it to manage the world. The suffering generated by bad choices is our fault as a human collective. The difficulty arises when a person looks at humans as a collection of individuals; then there is no justification for a decision by Reuven to cause Shimon, who did not sin, to suffer. But if one views humanity as a collective organism meant to manage its life (like a state or a community; see on this also in Column 539 and much more), then the outcomes are our own doing. In any case, even if someone will claim there is a better model, in my opinion this difficulty regarding God is at the level of a question, not a contradiction: why He decides to give us free choice and not take into His own hands full control over what happens. This admits metaphysical explanations of various kinds (e.g., the one I proposed in Column 170, or another). In any case, there is certainly no contradiction here that demands resolution before accepting both sides. As I explained above, He has no possibility to grant us free choice while retaining for Himself the option to dictate outcomes (i.e., to prevent suffering). This is impossible even for Him (because it is a logical contradiction, not merely an a priori or physical impossibility), and therefore there is no contradiction as to why He did not do so (see this in detail in Column 302).

In fact, we can sum up what I have written so far in Hazal’s dictum: “Everything is in the hands of Heaven except the fear of Heaven.” What pertains to people’s choices are decisions that pertain to fear of Heaven—that is, decisions with a moral dimension. Such decisions—whether sins between man and God or sins between man and his fellow (moral transgressions that harm or cause suffering to others)—are not in the hands of Heaven but in human hands. Whereas everything else (natural processes or non-volitional human conduct) is indeed in God’s hands—which brings us to the discussion of natural evil.

Natural Evil

I ended the previous section by saying that every event that is not a person’s moral choice is in the hands of Heaven—that is, determined by God. This also follows from the words of R. Hananel in Hagigah that I cited: he assumes that only a person’s actions can harm an innocent person (“without justice”), implying that in his opinion natural events cannot harm innocents. The explanation lies in the fact that such events are in the hands of Heaven (unlike human choices); therefore it is clear that they must be carried out with just calculation. God does not mete out judgment without justice (see on this in Column 436). But, as noted, reality contradicts this. It is a fact that innocents are harmed also by natural disasters. If such disasters are God’s handiwork, how can this be reconciled with God’s goodness and morality? We saw that regarding the suffering of adults one might perhaps claim that everyone harmed deserved it (very strange, but theoretically perhaps possible), but regarding the suffering of babies such a claim cannot stand. I assume that in light of this, even regarding adults we must assume that not everyone harmed by a natural event deserved to die.

Here I propose a move very similar to what I suggested regarding volitional actions—a move that shifts the discussion from a contradiction to a question that can be answered or at least assumed to have an answer. The basis of my proposal is the fact that God decided to create the world so that it runs according to rigid natural laws. This is first of all a fact we all know. It is not entirely clear why He decided thus, but it is crystal clear that He did. I can think of different ideas why He did so. For example, if the world does not operate according to fixed laws, we will not be able to orient ourselves in it and make informed decisions. If there is chaos, and causes do not always generate the same outcomes—how will we know whether to fear fire or whipped cream? How will we know that fires are extinguished with water and not with paper? And so on. But this is only a suggestion; there may be other explanations for this decision. In any case, even if you have no explanation, this is a question, not a contradiction; hence we can assume there is such an explanation even if we do not know it. Conduct according to rigid laws is apparently the way to achieve God’s aims in creation. Even if we have no idea what His aims are, it is hard to argue with this: this conclusion follows clearly from observing reality together with the assumption that God acts rationally and does not do things for no reason.

But if so, the question about God’s goodness versus natural evil already requires preliminary discussion. Assuming the world must operate according to rigid laws to achieve the aims of creation, then again natural evil is not caused by God but by the laws of nature. True, He created (legislated) the laws of nature, but the claim that He should have prevented natural evil assumes another significant premise: that there exists another system of rigid natural laws that would lead the world to precisely the same aims and with equal success—but without causing undeserved suffering. The big question is: whence do we know that such a system exists?

I have no way to prove either way, but if I had to bet I would bet that no such system exists. I am, of course, speaking of a rigid system of laws (not an ad hoc adjustment of nature to desired outcomes—that is not a rigid system). I mean a system of laws that yields exactly the same outcomes as the current laws of nature but without the unjust harms to people or animals—only those would change in the alternative system. In every situation where harm to an innocent is expected, the new laws would produce a different outcome; but in all other situations they would yield exactly the same outcomes. It seems to me very unlikely that there is any rigid legal system that could do this. This is, of course, only my view; yet for our purposes it suffices for me to argue that the claim against God can arise only on the assumption that such an alternative system exists. As long as you have not shown it exists, there is no room for a claim against God. We have reached a logical contradiction to which even God is subject: He cannot create a rigid system of laws that cannot exist—just as He cannot create a round triangle or a triangle whose angles sum to 217 degrees, or a square whose diagonal is shorter than its side. In this article I discussed this and brought sources from the Rishonim (Rambam and Rashba) who argue that even God cannot act thus—and there is no contradiction to His omnipotence. But I do not need sources: there is a logical proof. The opposite statement is meaningless and contradictory.

If so, the answer to the question of how there is natural evil and how this is consistent with God’s goodness is that natural evil is produced by the laws of nature, and that even God Himself cannot create a system of natural law without elements of natural evil in certain situations. Granted, there remains a weaker claim regarding God: surely He can suspend or freeze the laws when necessary; hence He should have saved innocents from suffering they do not deserve—just as we saw in the previous section regarding human evil.

My answer here parallels what we saw in the previous section. If God were to intervene whenever there is undeserved suffering (to prevent natural evil), again we would no longer have rigid natural laws. If the assumption is that the aims of the world are not achieved if it does not operate by rigid laws, then again there is no justification to demand that God intervene and suspend the laws in all these situations. He can of course do so in very particular situations without our noticing, and perhaps He indeed does. But on large scales it appears that the contradiction between reality and the assumption of God’s goodness is unfounded. The burden of proof lies on the one who raises the difficulty, for he must prove that the aims of creation can be achieved even if God intervenes and prevents natural evil—or replaces the system of laws.

Here too one can speak of different degrees of suffering and build a model of intervention only in the most severe degrees of natural suffering. But again I answer, as above, that there is no clear line that can be drawn on the suffering scale, and there is no justification to distinguish between different levels of suffering (or numbers of sufferers). On the principled level, all suffering is unjustified and calls for intervention; therefore, intervention to prevent suffering means the abolition of rigid natural laws. One way or another, again we see that the suffering is caused by the laws of nature and not by God; and the question why He does not intervene is no longer a contradiction but a question—and with a question it suffices to say that there is a justification we do not understand.

I repeat: the picture I present here is of course only one possibility. It may be that there is an alternative system of laws; it may be that divine intervention beyond some threshold of suffering would still not impede the aims of creation, contrary to my suggestions. But it suffices for me that I have shown the burden of proof lies on the one who challenges God and not on the one who reconciles His conduct. It suffices that there is a possible account as I described to show that there is no longer a contradiction. One who challenges must prove that such a possibility does not exist.

Comparison with Rabbi Eliyahu’s Approach

I assume there will be readers who will ask themselves, in light of the picture I described, what is wrong with Rabbi Shmuel Eliyahu’s conception, which I criticized in those columns. He claimed that the earthquake in Turkey was God’s act to punish or deter our enemies. I argued against him that this is an immoral act and therefore unlikely that God did it. I explained here why the question of non-intervention is weaker (because it is a question, not a contradiction). But one could argue that his explanations can also rely on the claim that God cannot punish the Turks without harming children. He too can speak of limits to God’s omnipotence. How is he different from me?

This comparison is incorrect. If one accepts the premise that there are limits on God Himself, then it is unclear how he infers that the aim was to punish the Turks. Perhaps He had a different aim altogether and all the suffering Turks are merely side effects of these actions? And why look for explanations at all if he too agrees that at least some of these outcomes have no explanation (they are the result of constraints)? Is it not more reasonable and logical to say that all that happens here is the result of constraint? Surely something incomprehensible and immoral occurred. Even Rabbi Eliyahu admits this—certainly after his apology. So the obvious interpretation is that this was not God’s deed, instead of assuming it was but that there were constraints. If that were his position, he should merely have clarified that the suffering of the babies (and also of the innocent adults) certainly was not God’s doing—only the harm to terrorists who hid among them (if there were such). He would not have needed to apologize or retract anything—only to clarify this point.

Therefore my critique of him stands. First, I assume he would not accept my premise that there are constraints on God’s actions—just as most believers and religious thinkers do not accept it (he did not write this, and his apology shows that he does not accept it). But even if he did accept it, there would be no logic in inferring the conclusions he inferred from the events. This is, of course, beyond the logical flaws in his interpretation that I described in the first column about his remarks.

Interim Summary

What we have seen so far is that reality—both natural and human—does not contradict God’s goodness and morality. One can of course argue that He is indeed not moral and not good, or that He does not exist at all. My discussion assumes that He exists and that He is good. My aim was to show that even under these assumptions we do not reach a contradiction.

A human doctor who wishes to heal another person sometimes has to cause him pain, for he has no way to heal without pain. We would not say such a doctor is evil, for he has no other way to heal the patient without causing pain. My claim here is that so too regarding God. Even if He wishes to benefit all of us, sometimes He has no possibility of doing so without causing us—or some of us—pain. The novelty is that even God acts under constraints, and that does not contradict His omnipotence.

All this is true if, and only if, the constraints in question are logical. A human doctor is constrained also by the laws of nature; he cannot heal without pain. God is not constrained by that, for the laws of nature do not bind Him. He created them, and therefore He can also freeze them (the mouth that forbade is the mouth that permitted). But logical constraints bind even God Himself. To give us free choice while retaining for Himself the possibility of dictating the outcome (i.e., preventing suffering) is a logical contradiction and therefore not within God’s power. To run the world by rigid natural laws and at the same time intervene as needed to prevent suffering is also a logical contradiction and therefore not within His power. Under these constraints, God should be judged exactly like the human doctor who acts under constraints and cannot always avoid causing suffering to his patients. This does not necessarily indicate that he is not moral—and so too regarding God.

God’s Involvement in the World

I have often written that, in my view, God is not involved in the world. I have also written that this conclusion is not meant to resolve the problem of evil but is based on strong philosophical and scientific arguments independent of it. But of course, if one adopts such a view, it obviates the discussion from the outset, for under such a policy He neither causes suffering nor is He expected to prevent it. He does not act here at all. He has left the world to natural law and human choices, and what transpires here is the result of those two. At least in recent generations, God adopts a policy of general non-intervention.

But to argue all I have written thus far, one need not reach that view. It suffices for me to claim that even if He is involved in the world there are limits to His involvement to explain that this is precisely the case in situations where there is suffering of innocents. True, if I assume that the avoidance of intervention is in order to let the world operate according to rigid laws, then the full conclusion suggests itself—that He is not involved at all. But I explained that this conclusion is not strictly necessary to adopt the picture I have described here (this is essentially the second view I cited above: partial divine involvement in the world—see there the difficulties it poses).

In the comments to the previous columns several objections and difficulties were raised regarding the picture I proposed and the problems at its foundation. I now wish to address them briefly.

Yaakov: Reincarnations

Yaakov insisted on burdening us with tedious comments about reincarnations and how they solve all the difficulties I raised (see, for example, here and much more nearby). Except that, as he claims, an “infidel” like me does not believe in reincarnations.

So I have a novelty for him. First, this “infidel” before you certainly takes into account the possibility of reincarnations. I am not inclined to think any of us knows whether there are or are not reincarnations, and certainly not to identify who is the reincarnation of whom; but in principle the possibility of reincarnations is not implausible to me. If I accept that in us there is a soul beyond the material (I am a dualist), then when the body dies one can certainly accept the claim that the soul remains in some form—either it remains Above or it returns to the world in another incarnation. This is, of course, not clear to me, but I do not reject the possibility. Precisely because of this it is important to understand that this possibility does not offer a solution to the problem of suffering—whether human or natural. If it did, that would itself be a good argument for the existence of reincarnations.

Why does it not solve the difficulty? Because even if the person who died returns here in another incarnation, why did he have to suffer in the present incarnation without any fault of his own? When a baby dies in agony, the fact that he will return here as a monkey or another person does not change at all the fact that he suffered undeservedly. It perhaps solves the question of unjust death—because he “returns to life”—but not the question of suffering. One can perhaps compensate him for the undeserved suffering in the next incarnation, but I do not see a justification for undeserved suffering with compensation. One can also claim that the suffering is a response to his sins in a previous incarnation, but that is a very strange claim. Why should he not suffer in the same incarnation in which he sinned? Why cause suffering to another person—even if he has the same soul? That person does not even remember what he did in a previous incarnation and will certainly derive no moral lesson from it.

Beyond all that, such a claim certainly does not salvage Rabbi Eliyahu’s explanations. He ties the suffering to the Turks’ hostility toward us—not to transgressions those people perpetrated in previous incarnations. If we resort to reincarnation rationales, then we have no business seeking justifications in terms of events and actions occurring in our world. That renders his explanations even more speculative than they were without the reincarnation thesis.

Dror: What About the Past?

Now to the questions of “Bobby” Dror Fisher, and the cobbler’s mate he kindly bestowed upon me (for his questions see here, here, here, and here). There are various questions there that were already answered in the column, so I will not repeat them here—for example, the difference between the claim that God does not intervene and the claim that He Himself causes it. Dror argues that in both situations the conduct is immoral (a father who sees his son suffering will certainly intervene to save him). Above I explained at length the difference between a question and a contradiction, and between non-intervention and direct causation. I will therefore focus here on his questions about the past.

He rightly says that I too agree that God was involved in the world in the past. From here he wonders why innocents suffered then. What is the explanation for the natural and human evil that prevailed then? I preface with two remarks I made here: (a) My explanation for evil does not necessarily depend on my view of providence. (b) That view is based on very strong arguments on its merits; it is not an ad hoc explanation for the problem of evil. True, once one adopts it, it bolsters the explanations presented here. Now to his questions.

My thesis does not posit a sharp transition from full involvement (no nature at all) to no involvement whatsoever (the world runs on its own). It is a gradual transition, and in all periods there were laws of nature. Dror asked why there must be disengagement if the world progresses without it. A very weak question. It progresses because of the disengagement, and the disengagement happens because of the progress. It is like asking why a father disengages from his son as he advances—after all, he advances even without it. If there were involvement at a high dosage, there would be no natural law at all. In such a case scientific progress would not be possible, nor moral progress (if everything depends on us and God will not prevent evil, that is motivation to act accordingly and deal with evil ourselves. Not for nothing are the international institutions that address evil and try to reduce it established in a period of secularization). Therefore there is logic in gradual disengagement.

Thus, in all periods divine involvement was sporadic; the difference lies only in dosage. Dror asked how I would explain the suffering of babies in earthquakes that occurred in the past. But in the column above I wrote that even according to the second approach (partial divine involvement) one can answer the problem of evil. Partial involvement is precisely what existed in the past. According to my proposal, the suffering of innocent people then was also the result of natural laws and a policy of non-intervention. True, in earlier periods the divine involvement was at a higher dosage, but there too there were natural laws.

Moreover, then we also had prophets who could point to that involvement and explain it. When a prophet in the past told me that God did X because of Y, he said this from knowledge, not speculation. But one who offers such explanations today (like Rabbi Eliyahu), beyond the fact that in my opinion there is no involvement, also adopts a very speculative path. He is not a prophet and has no way to know God’s calculations. So why offer explanations at all?! If a prophet comes and tells me that such-and-such an event in the past was punishment for sin—and if in that event there was suffering of innocents—then I will say that apparently it was not God’s act but a constraint compelled it and He decided not to intervene (for the reasons I have given above). The dosage of involvement is a function of the period, but that does not mean that in the past He intervened always. As noted, there were natural laws then as well.

Dror’s request for well-defined “borderlines” of God’s involvement is, of course, ridiculous. To answer the difficulty of the problem of evil it suffices for me to point out that there can be considerations that justify non-intervention. I need not draw a line or assume there is any line at all. If an asteroid were to destroy the earth, perhaps God would intervene and perhaps not. How does that touch my thesis? This is a very basic logical misunderstanding of what is required to raise a contradiction and what is required to resolve it. “One must challenge only with great difficulty” is nonsense; but “one may resolve even with difficulty” is entirely legitimate. One who raises the difficulty must claim that there is no alternative explanation; but one who resolves may point to an alternative explanation even without supplying all the details—especially when there is no reason he should know them (who knows God’s considerations?!). As noted, it suffices for me to show that this is a question, not a contradiction.

One must understand that on the logical level there cannot be direct harm by God Himself to innocents without justification, for that contradicts the assumption of His morality. Therefore I do not understand what the examples Dror brought are meant to prove. I do indeed accept his claim that in the past there were events in which innocents were harmed. But what does that prove? What in my words must now be revoked? That the conclusion is that God is not moral? Or that harming innocents is good? The second option is an oxymoron. The first throws out the baby with the bathwater. So what remains is that there are justifications not on the moral plane for such harms (constraints to which God is subject). But I have already rejected this notion conceptually and philosophically—and in any case I have shown that Rabbi Eliyahu’s thesis cannot rest on this view. So at most we remain with “needs further inquiry” regarding those descriptions—and in my view, because this is a contradiction and not a question, one must find an answer to them. One cannot maintain that God is moral and continue to claim He acts thus. That necessarily brings us to the conclusion that there are constraints to which God is subject, and hence to His policy of non-intervention. For example, He decided to destroy the Temple and Jerusalem, but as a consequence there would be children suffering starvation. That is forced upon Him; otherwise He is again rendered immoral. But as I explained, once one accepts that there are constraints even upon God, we again arrive at my thesis. There is no point stopping halfway and seeking explanations and justifications for events that may very well be the result of constraints—certainly not when the explanations limp and we have no prophet who can assert authoritatively that this is the information he possesses.

At the end of the day, Dror does not propose another solution to the problem of evil. Even if I accepted everything he writes (and I certainly do not), he would have to choose between these conclusions: either God is evil, or conduct that inflicts suffering on innocents is good. Good luck to him.

[1] It is important to understand that this pertains to logical contradictions. In a priori contradictions (that is, philosophical contradictions that are not logical; see on this here), the situation is different.