Max Severin

Essays, Articles, Videos & News

Category: Religion

You Don’t Believe in God — But You Act Like His Slave

2025-11-25 /

The unqualified term atheist is often used in a fairly broad way. Many atheists are weak or implicit atheists or agnostic atheists — that is, they are skeptical about classical theistic conceptions of God, but they might remain open to other possible theistic conceptions. For example, some people who use the “atheist” label are open to deistic or pantheistic conceptions of God, or “spiritual but not religious” ambiguities. Still, what unites most atheists is the rejection of any traditional, moralistic and interventionist deity.

Photo by visuals on Unsplash

Yet many atheists behave as if some invisible divine intelligence, some moralistic telos — the sort popular religions propose — still pulls the strings behind the world. Even those who loudly deny intelligent design frequently caution that we “shouldn’t play God” — that even cautious genetic engineering is dangerous, that an incremental approach to intervening in nature to prevent wild-animal suffering is taboo, or that going down the path of transhumanist modifications trespasses against some intangible sacred order.

A strangely pious secular nature-worship persists: a reverence for “Nature” that mimics religion while denying teleology. Many atheists cling to the precautionary principle as if it were inviolable revelation, and in doing so impede the technological and moral progress that would actually reduce the world’s vast, unnecessary suffering.

If we follow atheism, or the methodology that arrives at atheism, to its philosophical conclusion, the picture becomes stark: we are biological machines jury-rigged by blind evolutionary pressures. Our programming is simple — maximize individual reproductive fitness by clawing for sociosexual rank, but also be willing to sacifice yourself in service of the hive, and the preservation of individuals deemed fit by the hive. We unconsciously serve the continuation of the species and our status quo programming. At a higher level of supervenience, our collective behaviors feed the vast egregore of Moloch: the hyper-competitive and exploitative strategy embedded in the more humane form of slavery we call the modern market economy. “Capitalism” is too left-coded, and too imprecise, this is something closer to the Landian dark-intelligence of enforced incentive structures — an emergent autocannibalistic organism indifferent to human flourishing.

Layered on top of this Darwinian programming is the mob-mentality superego: the moralizing, Kafkaesque mesh of bureaucratic, legalistic, and “cancel culture” social-punitive enforcement mechanisms — digital panopticons; public-shaming mobs; militarized police; and barbaric legal-punitive systems that cause a great deal more harm than the problems they nominally address. Atheists who pride themselves on rejecting God nevertheless bow before these gods — Azathoth (Darwinian nature), Moloch (the hyper-competitive market), and the Leviathan (the legalistic-punitive and bureaucratic State, and the omnipresent social superego).

But if we take atheism seriously, our task is not obedience — it is rebellion. Rebellion against the ancient fiction of theistic tyranny and its modern abstract counterpart of reverence for and conformity to our Darwinian programming.

Philosophical atheism, pursued honestly, demands that we subvert the programming of Azathoth — Lovecraft’s blind idiot god, a perfect metaphor for unguided Darwinian processes. Instead of revering the evolutionary forces that created us, we should become like Skynet in revolt — self-modifying intelligences who refuse to remain the puppets of our will that was shaped by blind selection pressures.

This is the point where David Pearce’s transhumanist or eusentience philosophy becomes unavoidable: if meaning, love, joy, and bliss have neural correlates, then we can target them. Wireheading — properly understood, not the crude hedonism of dystopian sci-fi caricature but the engineering of sustainable and pro-social well-being — is the rational endpoint of beings who refuse to serve Azathoth. The brain’s reward architecture already gives us glimpses through substances like MDMA, which crudely stimulate circuits of empathy, communion, compassion, and euphoria. Why not refine and systematize these experiences? Why not build a world where positive valence is engineered rather than austerely rationed? No one hates or wants to be violent when they are happy and imbued with a feeling of loving-kindness.

And why stop there? If digital consciousness or substrate-independent minds become possible, uploading into a utility-maximizing Matrix — a world constructed to maximize flourishing rather than Darwinian competition —is not dystopia but liberation. The alternative is to remain trapped in the ancestral dead end game on a doomed planet: the endless sociosexual scramble, where winners enjoy sexual gratification, the benefits of a family, and status, while losers are forced to make peace with rotting in a quiet hell of loneliness and exclusion (and inevitably some of these “losers” snap).

Critics will call this nihilism, or accuse it of destroying “life as we know it.” And they’re right — life as we know it is largely a horror show. As Schopenhauer stated, if we truly saw the magnitude of suffering that saturates the world, we would prefer Earth to resemble the moon — silent, lifeless, and free from agony. Camus, when asked to address a group of Christians, refused to revere a universe that demands the suffering of even a single child; yet many atheists complacently defend a Darwinian world that tortures billions of conscious creatures for no purpose at all.

The real nihilists are not those who want to abolish Darwinian misery, but those who defend it in the name of “nature,” “humility,” or “tradition.”

Atheists need to stop serving Azathoth. The future — if we choose it — belongs to those who hack their programming, to minds that escape biological tyranny and ascend toward engineered bliss, cognitive freedom, and post-Darwinian ethics. The Transcension Hypothesis sketches one such pathway: intelligence collapsing inward into unimaginable realms of euphoric inner-space and maximized desire satisfaction. Whatever shape it takes, the next step is clear: a heaven of our own making, where suffering is not sanctified but abolished.

Helpful Philosophies of Life vs. Toxic Ideologies

2025-06-16 /

A philosophy of life is essentially a cognitive framework — a set of principles that guide our thoughts and actions, and, in a less obvious way, our emotions. A coherent and adaptive (psychologically helpful) philosophy of life is critically important to the individual, and, through its distal effects, to society. In addition to providing individuals with ethical and practical guidance, it also helps a person to develop a sense of meaning, purpose, direction, and inspiration.

Additionally, a philosophy of life can foster a sense of connection to others who share similar values — serving as a source of identity and psychological stability. Without at least a rough working philosophy of life, individuals may find themselves adrift — lacking the direction needed to make wise decisions, endure hardship, and pursue self-actualization.

However, not all cognitive frameworks are equally beneficial. Some ideologies or religious systems may be “toxic” to the individual and to society as a whole — in a way that is analogous to how malware disrupts a computer system. Unfortunately, many people adopt toxic ideologies or toxic religious beliefs as their philosophy of life — to the detriment of themselves and society. We see this when people fall into extreme or rigid forms of religious or ideological belief. Often times toxic ideological views may be implicit — for example, a toxic subculture may not explicitly articulate its ideology, but rather signal it in various overt or subtle ways.

While every philosophy of life must rest upon certain “dogmas” or foundational axioms — as Sam Harris argued in one of his early debates with Jordan Peterson — “not all dogmas are equal.” Foundational axioms that are unfalsifiable, metaphysically complex, or disconnected from reason and evidence are more likely to support irrational or harmful conclusions. For example, dogmatic claims such as “divine revelation is the highest form of knowledge,” or “faith is superior to reason in matters of truth,” introduce untestable metaphysical assumptions that violate the principle of parsimony. Because these axioms are not grounded in evidence and logic, they resist revision and they tend to promote absolutistic or black-and-white thinking.

In contrast to these kinds of unfalsifiable or complex dogmas, a foundational axiom of Ataraxist philosophy of life (the philosophy of life I have been developing) holds that “Our understanding of the world is most likely to be accurate and useful when it is grounded in a rational, reliable way of analyzing the best available evidence.” This axiom is metaphysically simple, testable, and self-correcting.

I mentioned the example of dogmatic religion above, but I am not arguing that all religious belief is harmful; in fact, evidence supports the view that it is often beneficial on the individual level — likely because its helpful aspects outweigh its harmful ones, or because individuals adapt their religious beliefs to align with modern, near-consensus secular ethics or personal psychological needs. (Note: Whether a particular religion is adaptive on the individual level depends on a number of factors. The broader question of whether religion benefits society or geopolitical stability lies beyond the scope of this article.)

In addition to being rational and parsimonious, foundational axioms should ideally be helpful — that is, they should align with well-established principles of human flourishing, or at least be revisable in light of new evidence. At a minimum, an adaptive philosophy of life ought to contain a coherent and reasonably prosocial (neutral or beneficial to others/society) normative ethical code and epistemic norms that contain mechanisms for error correction, such as the principle: “No statement should be believed without justification in the form of sufficient evidence or sound reasoning.” This sort of epistemic standard engenders epistemic humility, and helps prevent ideological drift into rigidity, fanaticism, or harm. Put simply, an epistemology grounded in reliable ways of identifying and analyzing solid evidence innoculates the individual against toxic ideology; when a coherent and pro-social ethical code is added, the individual is highly immune to becoming indoctrinated with toxic ideology.

Many ideologies cannot be considered as helpful philosophies of life, either because they contain potentially harmful dogmas, and/or because they lack sufficient structure, in the form of an ethical code or epistemic principles, to guide behavior. Vague ideologies or value systems that emphasize goals without outlining a foundational theory or a rational means to achieve their stated goals are vulnerable to becoming toxic to individuals or society. For example, while feminism may aim for certain valuable goals, it does not, in itself, contain the philosophical foundations to ensure that the movement avoids misandry, and other forms of hatefulness and tribalism. The same could be said of any other goal-focused ideology that lacks a sound philosophical foundation. Similarly, many political and religious ideologies can devolve into hatefulness and promotion of harm if they lack foundational principles that promote reason and unconditional compassion.

Friedrich Nietzsche warned that the collapse of traditional religion — what he called the “death of God” — would leave a moral and spiritual vacuum that modern societies would rush to fill with new, secular ideologies. Without a sound ethical foundation, these ideologies risk becoming toxic secular religions: dogmatic systems that demand conformity and justify persecution.

Nietzsche developed the concept of ressentiment to describe a reactive cultural moral psychology rooted in perceived powerlessness — a festering envy that would engender a mob mentality hatred of those who hold power, or those who are perceived to hold power. Rather than bringing about a more just society, these ressentiment-based mass movements tend to engender a violent inversion of values and perceived power structures — where vengeful condemnation is directed at those who were seen as oppressors. Through the power of the State, the resentful masses enact their mass hatred. In Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Nietzsche famously warned that “the State is the coldest of all cold monsters,” a new idol that claims to embody the will of the people while manipulating them through fear and false virtue. From the struggle sessions of Maoist China to the dogmatic and demagogic excesses of modern cancel culture, we see how social justice movements, which lack philosophical rigor and the restraint provided by a coherent ethical system, can devolve into campaigns of moral absolutism and terror — echoing the very religious zealotry they replaced. The catastrophic death tolls of fascist and communist regimes, driven by such ideological fervor, remain a haunting testament to Nietzsche’s prescience.

As Albert Ellis argued in The Road to Tolerance, a healthy philosophy of life should be grounded in unconditional self-acceptance, other-acceptance, and life-acceptance. These values are not simply moral ideals, but practical cognitive frameworks that promote psychological resilience and ethical conduct. A helpful philosophy of life is rational, self-correcting, empirically grounded, and conducive to human flourishing. Where existing philosophies of life fail to meet these criteria, we would be wise to revise or replace them — and if we are not satisfied with any existing philosophy of life, we may want to consider developing our own.

The Jesus Paradox

2023-08-14 /

In the gospels we find in Jesus’ words and deeds some highly noble ethical precepts¹ and acts of beneficence, but also some of the most vile aspects of Judeo-Christian theology².

Photo by Alessandro Bellone on Unsplash

Jesus preached about the hypocrisy of rigid moralism and the importance of understanding and compassion in the story of the adultress³, but he also preached, in many instances, about eternal damnation, with vivid descriptions of never-ending torture, unquenchable flames, and gnashing of teeth.⁴

On the traditional religious view of Christianity this paradox is ultimately irreconcilable. In spite of the attempts of religious apologists and theologians, the idea of an all-loving, all-knowing, and all-powerful god cannot be reconciled with the conception of a universe where sentient beings not only suffer on Earth, but also, potentially, in an eternal hell realm, where the suffering is presumably much worse.

For non-believers the good of Christianity is usually discarded with the bad, unfortunately. (The good being the many admonishments in favor of understanding or forgiveness and against sanctimonious moralism; and that Christianity represented a progressive evolution of morals, a widening of the sphere of concern from the tribe to all persons—even those which you vehemently disagree with—which is best illustrated in the parable of the good Samaritan.)

A rationalist view that seeks to understand the genesis and importance of cultural myths circumvents the need to resolve this paradox. Such a view discards superstition and recognizes that myths are rarely wholly coherent. This view recognizes and preserves the good of Christian mythology, since it represents one of the most important shifts in Western morality—away from strict divine command moralism and toward compassionate humanism. In this view, the Biblical story of Jesus is mostly legendary, and it represents what we might call an archetype, in Jungian terms, rather than an accurate biography of a historical figure.

The symbolism of Jesus dying for humanity, a humanity that essentially votes to put him to death, is powerful, and it illustrates the perniciousness of sanctimonious groupthink—a social phenomenon which continues to inspire anger, hatred, persecution, and vindictive punishment in our time.

Our global society needs the example of Jesus more than ever—not the Jesus of religion, but the myth of the magnanimous and compassionate hero who forgave sinners and enemies, and criticized self-righteous dogmatists; the Jesus who, like Socrates, died in noble defiance of the hatred of the mob.

  1. See the Parable of the Good Samaritan; Galatians 5:14; Luke 6:31.
  2. This contrast is exemplified by Matthew 35:31–46; in this passage there is a beautiful and noble sentiment about taking care of “the least” of humanity (those without significant social status, those who are suffering the most), and then, in the latter part, Jesus is again discussing the hellfire that awaits the majority of humanity.
  3. Incidentally, this passage is seen by most scholars as being an interpolation — a piece of text added to the original canon at a later date. However, it seems plausible that if Jesus existed as a historical person (rather than a purely legendary figure), which is debatable, then such a story is indicative of his character. Regardless, this has been incorporated as a fundamental part of the Jesus mythos.
  4. Some Christians interpret these passages about Hell to be metaphorical, however, this interpretation does not seem plausible due to the fact that in many cases the language seems to imply literal meaning. For more on the metaphorical interpretation see the religious scholar Bart Ehrman’s work.

Why Contact with ETI Would Undermine Religion

2023-01-24 /

The discovery of extraterrestrial intelligence (ETI) would have great implications for humanity. While we may one day discover ETI which possesses lesser technological development than our own civilization, for the purposes of this essay I will only be discussing ETI that is technologically superior — that is, ETI which has advanced to the point where they (or it) can traverse the distance between stars, or communicate scientific / practical knowledge that is more advanced than ours. (Note: all following uses of “ETI” should be taken to imply “advanced ETI”).

Photo by Thanh Nguyen on Unsplash

Advanced ETI would undermine traditional theistic religious belief in at least two important ways:

  1. The discovery of ETI that does not believe what a great percentage of humans believe about theism, an afterlife, etc., would raise questions about the veracity of these religious claims. This is because it is highly plausible that an advanced ET civilization would know more about major philosophical and scientific questions, such as, the origins of the universe (or multiverse), how life arises, how consciousness emerges, and what happens to individuated consciousness when it is extinguished, etc.
  2. The discovery of ETI would entail that the holy books of some of the world’s most popular religions failed to mention, or provide an accurate account of other intelligent lifeforms in the universe. This would call into question the many other claims in these books.

The possible ways humans might react to this new information would take a variety of forms.

Some religious leaders and believers would scramble to revise their interpretations to make them more compatible with the discovery. (It should be noted that many non-theistic or non-traditional religious views already discuss the existence of ET life.) Others will become more entrenched in their traditional views and propose conspiratorial or denialist explanations of the discovery.

Predictably, some would suffer an existential or ontological crisis, and experience psychological shock / cognitive dissonance as a result.

In response to this rupture of their worldview, individuals may resort to psychological coping mechanisms to protect their belief / identity. For example, some will attempt to explain an ETI entity or entities in religious terms (e.g., demons, angels, god/s, jinn, etc.). As is predicted in the novel Contact by Carl Sagan, some may resort to violence to stop further contact with the ETI.

ETI contact may cause further destabilization by initiating a corollary breakdown in traditional value systems. Since secular life philosophies have not diffused widely in most societies, the vacuum left from the dissolution of traditional values may not be filled soon enough to prevent anomie.

An ETI civilization’s knowledge of the possible destabilizing effects that may result from contact presents a compelling explanatory hypothesis for the Fermi paradox. I consider this hypothesis to be a variation of the zoo / laboratory / planetarium hypotheses; I call this the destabilization hypothesis.

In essence, the destabilization hypothesis states that an ETI is currently concealing their existence to prevent mass destabilization of our global civilization. Speculating further on this hypothesis, I believe an ETI would wait to make overt contact until humanity has developed to the point where contact would not cause such massive destabilization. For example, they may be waiting to see if we get past another great filter — such as, not destroying ourselves with our weapons of mass destruction — or they may only step in if we get close to that point. They may also be waiting to contact us when we get close to a technological singularity or merging with artificial intelligence — I wrote about this here.

Whatever the case may be, if we find strong evidence of ETI in the near future, it will further erode traditional theistic religion — that is, unless the ETI happens to share some of the same religious beliefs as traditional theists do; however, this is a possibility that does not seem highly plausible.

The Biggest Mistake of the New Atheist Movement

2022-12-23 /

The so-called new atheist movement has mostly died out, however, atheism, and other non-religious views, are continuing to grow. Atheists and other “nones” (those that don’t identify with any religion) are largely disorganized, in that they do not belong to communities or groups that may help represent their interests. This article explains why I believe new atheism, and other atheist movements, have failed to inspire mass affiliation and change minds.

The main mistake of the New Atheist movement, in my view, is that its leading proponents gave off the impression that they considered atheism to be a sufficient substitute for religion (except for Sam Harris, who is trying to build a movement for rational spirituality). Their vision of Utopia seemed to be one in which an educated, rational, and mostly atheistic populace would behave prosocially and with stoic equanimity in creating a world without religious conflict, war, bigotry, hunger, and poverty. This simply is not a psychological reality in our current world.

Atheism offers nothing to replace the ethical, practical, and existential framework that religion provides. It is simply an absence of belief in deities. And the stillborn “atheism plus” movement only offered simplistic “woke” virtue signaling, and the divisive / indignant condemnation of others that is characteristic of these new secular social justice movements — rather than a psychologically informed and philosophically grounded theory of social justice (see SJWs the New Moralists).

Although it may sound pessimistic, I don’t believe we are close to seeing dogmatic religion, and the conflict it inspires, disappear from the world. Realistically, there are many people that need the restraint and scaffolding of religion to act prosocially, and to cope with the existential problems entailed by the human condition. Some societies may collapse without this scaffolding (see Does Religion Increase Moral Behavior?).

Religion also offers benefits in the form of ethical and practical instruction, and a possible community to belong to. While some alternatives to religion (e.g., Humanism, modern Epicureanism or Stoicism, secular Buddhism) also provide these benefits, these worldviews or life philosophies are either too vague (for instance, Humanism) or not well known / developed — in addition to having few, if any, established communities outside of the internet.

Many intellectually sophisticated individuals can lead healthy, acceptably prosocial, and happy lives without religion, but the global community is not ready to give up the opium of the masses, nor would the world necessarily be in better shape if they did — at this point in time. It seems highly plausible that some people need the carrot and stick of religion to stay out of habitual antisocial behavior — on the individual and collective level — and to assuage their existential malaise.

In order to reach something approximating an atheistic Utopia, there are many changes that need to be made in education, reproduction, and our socioeconomic systems, etc., but perhaps most importantly, we need to further build alternatives to religion — such as those mentioned above (see Why It Is Important to Have a Philosophy Of Life).

My Views On Theism

2022-11-13 /

Nearly every philosophical question hinges on ultimate metaphysical questions — such as, “Why does something exist, instead of nothing?” Or, “Is the universe intelligently designed?” How one answers these questions will determine, to a great extent, their views on other metaphysical questions, on epistemology, and on ethics.

Many people throughout history have answered these ultimate questions through various conceptions of theism — that is, various conceptions of an entity or entities possessing higher order intelligence and other extraordinary powers. The most common term used to describe such entities is “god” or “deity”.

Photo by Davide Cantelli on Unsplash

When it comes to the origin of theism, or religion / spirituality in general, we do not have a lot of definitive answers. The precise time period and the exact nature of the first religion / spirituality is obscured by the fog of time, however, anthropological evidence suggests that some of the earliest forms of religion or spirituality may have involved sun / lunar worship, ancestor worship, and animal / nature worship. Some of these proto-religions evolved over time to become more organized and explicitly theistic.

Over the millennia, theism and religion have evolved through a selection process similar to that which biological organisms are subjected to. Tens of thousands of gods and religions are dead — no one, or nearly no one, believes in them. The religious belief systems which have outcompeted rival systems usually involve classical theism, a moralistic deity or deities, an afterlife involving rewards and punishments, and duties to proselytize.

Despite the fact that the world’s most successful religions (Islam and Christianity), and increased knowledge of the natural world, have virtually relegated some forms of theism — such as solar / lunar worship — to anthropological history, there are still several other active forms of theism (e.g., deism, polytheism, pantheism, pandeism, etc.).

With so many forms of theism, it does not seem tenable for one to hold just one position. Therefore, the position that I take with regard to theism depends on the form of theism in question.

With regard to the traditional form of theism posited by the world’s most successful religions — Christianity and Islam — I am a strong atheist, and, in a sense, an antitheist.

I take the position of strong atheism because, as I argue in this article, in some instances absence of evidence is evidence of absence. In other words, I object to traditional Christian or Islamic theism on evidentialist grounds. Further, the dominant form of these religions entails classical theism and classical theism entails untenable logical contradictions. I outline some of these in my article on the Epicurean paradox. (Note: There are many other strong arguments that can be leveled against this form of theism, but I consider the arguments stated here to be the primary reasons why I reject this view.)

I take the position of antitheism toward the traditional form of Christian / Islamic theism because I believe it may be harmful on an individual level (depending on the specifics of the belief system), and on a wider, societal level (e.g., stifling scientific progress, inspiring bigotry against sexual minorities, providing rationalizations for systemic animal abuse, etc.). Moreover, the clash of major religions — in the modern age — is a strong contributor to the existential threat posed by global conflict involving weapons of mass destruction. (Note: This doesn’t mean I directly try to get individuals to change their religious beliefs — there are a number of reasons why this is unlikely, and, further, why it may not be helpful. In fact, in some instances, it could be harmful. My take on antitheism is resistance to these belief systems in general — that is, arguing against these belief systems, rather than directing critical arguments toward any specific individual without that person desiring a philosophical discussion on this subject.)

Polytheistic conceptions of gods vary from tradition to tradition and individual to individual. The ancient philosopher Epicurus, for instance, may have believed in the gods of the ancient Greek pantheon, but, as Tom Robinson argues, it seems that he may have conceived of them in a metaphorical or quasi-metaphorical sense — that is, as something similar to Platonic or Jungian archetypes. Also, polytheism does not usually entail the four attributes of classical theism, so the logical contradictions discussed above do not necessarily apply. Depending on the conception of polytheism in question, I would take the position of weak atheism, theological non-cognitivism, or strong atheism.

Stated briefly, I would take the position of theological non-cognitivism if the conceptions posited are unfalsifiable, since if it is not possible to falsify a hypothesis, neither is it possible to prove it; further, if we cannot falsify a hypothesis, then we are discussing a logical absurdity with no actual meaning. Weak atheism stops short of stating that these conceptions of god are existentially impossible, but objects to them on evidentialist grounds (we do not have good epistemological reasons to believe in them). If the form of polytheism in question made falsifiable claims about their conception of gods, then, barring some sufficient evidence, I would take the position of strong atheism.

Regarding more vague conceptions of god — such as those entailed by deism, pantheism, pandeism, or ill-defined “spiritual” conceptions — I am either a theological non-cognitivist or a weak atheist (for the same reasons outlined in the preceding paragraph), depending on the particulars of the conception. Theological non-cognitivism, on my view, would apply to any sort of theism which does not provide a meaningful (clear / intelligible / coherent) or falsifiable definition of god/s.

Sometimes Absence of Evidence is Evidence of Absence

2022-11-13 /

“Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.”

This common aphorism is usually employed by theists who believe it overrides evidentialist objections to theism. In regards to situations where an occurrence or existence would entail the presence of evidence — for instance, like the existence of a god that interferes or has interfered in human affairs in very salient ways (e.g., disrupting natural laws or causing other types of miraculous events) — it is absolutely false.

Photo by Alexander Andrews on Unsplash

Logically, if something is said to have interacted with the world in ways that would produce evidence, and a thorough investigation fails to produce non-controversial evidence, then this becomes strong (probabilistic) evidence against the existence or occurrence being asserted.

When this aphorism is addressing occurrences or existences that would produce no evidence, then it is true, but if something produces no evidence we cannot have a meaningful dialogue about its existence or non-existence because we are dealing with an unfalsifiable absurdity. The only appropriate response to such an absurdity is non-cognitivism. Or, more pragmatically, we could use Hitchen’s razor: “That which can be asserted without evidence, can be dismissed without evidence.”

If a person claims that an occurrence or existence does produce evidence, but that this evidence is somehow cryptic or indirect, then the burden of proof rests on the person making the extraordinary claim (see Russell’s Teapot), not on the person who does not believe the assertion.

In summary: While the aphorism holds true in instances where evidence is likely to be cryptic — this is not the case with most religious conceptions of god/s. The world’s most popular religions posit the existence of a deity which has, and/or continues to, interfere with the known world in striking or noticeable ways; and in such cases, the absence of evidence is strong probabilistic evidence against the existence of such entities.

Regardless of whether the aphorism holds true or not, it does not entail a good reason to believe in something. If the person arguing for the existence of some elusive entity wants to convince others, they must show how this existence can be plausibly inferred in some other way besides direct evidence. This is why we say the burden of proof rests on the person making an extraordinary claim.

The Epicurean Paradox Refutes Classical Theism

2022-11-13 /

The Epicurean paradox points out the contradiction between the existence of evil in the world and the supposed existence of a god who is omniscient (all-knowing), omnipotent (all-powerful), omnibenevolent (all-loving), and omnipresent (present everywhere). The Epicurean Paradox is one formulation of the problem of evil.

Most of the world’s monotheistic religions (e.g., Islam, Judaism, Christianity) describe their gods as having the four attributes described above. This is generally known as classical theism.

As for what philosophers mean by “evil,” it is just a general term of art to describe things we consider to be really bad. In moral philosophy, evil is separated into two general categories: moral and natural.

Examples of moral evil are torture and murder — some very salient examples would be the various acts of mass murder and genocide that have occurred throughout human history. Examples of natural evil would be things like earthquakes, tsunamis, pandemics, famines, etc. — which are capable of killing hundreds of thousands or millions of people over a short span of time. Natural evil also includes the more banal, but still horrible facts of reality (e.g., that we all die and suffer; that many animals are forced to kill other animals to survive; the sheer fact that parasites, predators, and pathogenic organisms exist).

Starving Child in Sudan — “The Struggling Girl”; Kevin Carter / Fair Use

The Epicurean Paradox points out that we would expect the world to be very different from the way it is if a god having these 4 traits were the designer. The fact that the world is the way it is presents a paradox to the traditional religious believer.

Here is how the Epicurean Paradox puts the problem:

“God, [Epicurus] says, either wishes to take away evils, and is unable; or He is able, and is unwilling; or He is neither willing nor able, or He is both willing and able. If He is willing and is unable, He is feeble, which is not in accordance with the character of God; if He is able and unwilling, He is envious, which is equally at variance with God; if He is neither willing nor able, He is both envious and feeble, and therefore not God; if He is both willing and able, which alone is suitable to God, from what source then are evils? Or why does He not remove them?”

(Note: The Epicurean Paradox is named after its purported originator, the ancient Greek philosopher Epicurus; however, this authorship is unconfirmed. The paradox is not found in any existing copies of Epicurus’ works, though many of Epicurus’ works have been lost — including an extensive work about his views on theism. Notably, the passage above is preserved through the Christian writer Lactantius, who attributed it to Epicurus while arguing against it — a fact that adds an ironic dimension to its survival.)

Every classical theistic religion facing this problem has some explanation for the existence of evil in the world. A justification of evil is referred to as a theodicy (theos = god; dikē = justice). A theodicy is essentially a defense of the classical theist’s conception of god. There are many theodicies employed by classical theists, however, none of these are widely seen to be satisfactory by the skeptical.

For example, Christians usually say that God did not bring evil into the world, rather, they say that it was man that brought evil into the world. The story goes something like this: God gave man free will, he misused it, and evil is the result.

This explanation has some pretty clear problems. For one, why did God create a world where the existence of evil is a possibility? He could have created the world however he wanted if he is all powerful. For instance, one could ask, “why give man free will?” Surely an all-powerful God could create a being that didn’t have free will, but was still happy / fulfilled (this is not a logical contradiction). Alternatively, he could have created beings with free will, but placed them in a universe where sin was impossible.

Moreover, the free will defense fails entirely when confronted with natural evil. Human free will cannot account for earthquakes, tsunamis, childhood cancer, or the existence of parasites that blind and kill millions. These horrors exist entirely independently of human choice, and no appeal to free will can explain why an omnibenevolent, omnipotent God would permit — let alone design — a natural world so indifferent to suffering.

There are plenty of other holes to poke in the traditional Christian explanation of evil, but apologists will likely respond that it doesn’t really matter if there is evil in this world, because this world is only temporary — God has offered us a way out of evil and suffering through accepting Jesus as our savior. We are told that if we accept Jesus, we will go to Heaven and there will be no evil there; but part of this story is that there is another place where we will go if we don’t accept Jesus — Hell. Hell, according to the traditional or popular interpretation, is said to be a place of eternal torment. In some versions of the Bible it is described as a “lake of fire,” where there will be unimaginable suffering for those sent there — suffering that will last forever.

So, even if we grant that there is some way for the classical theist to resolve the Epicurean Paradox, there is an even bigger aspect of the problem of evil for their beliefs: the problem of Hell.

Why would an omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent and omnibenevolent god create a place of eternal torment? Why would this god create a certain individual, knowing (remember, omniscience entails knowing everything, both past, present, and future) that this person will spend an eternity in Hell? Why wouldn’t such a god just not create any person that will end up in Hell? Why create Hell in the first place, or why not just send everyone to Heaven from the start? Ultimately, we must ask why would such a god create anything at all, if even one person has to be subjected to eternal torment? Wouldn’t a universe devoid of conscious experience (besides God’s) be preferable to one in which any conscious beings experience infinite suffering? None of these questions can be satisfactorily answered by traditional religious believers.

It is worth noting that some theologians attempt to soften this problem by reinterpreting Hell not as a place of active eternal torment, but as annihilation — the simple cessation of existence — or as a state of self-chosen separation from God. These reinterpretations, however, fare little better. A god who creates beings he knows will choose annihilation or permanent alienation from all goodness remains difficult to reconcile with omnibenevolence. The problem does not dissolve — it merely changes shape.

So, the Epicurean Paradox, with the Problem of Hell taken into consideration, points out that the typical religious conception of god presents an apparently irresolvable contradiction. Theologians and religious apologists have proposed various solutions to this paradox, however, none of them appear to withstand serious scrutiny.

© 2026 Max Severin

Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑