Now, where does the authority of the absolute moral principle come from? Notice that I am not asking where the conviction itself comes from, as if this were a causal argument. That is not the point—at least not yet. The question concerns the authority of that principle: why should we give to it the enormous respect that indeed we do give to it? Ultimately, only two kinds of answers are possible: the source of absolute moral authority is either personal or impersonal. Consider first the latter possibility.183 That would mean that there is some impersonal structure or law in the universe that sets forth ethical precepts and rightly demands allegiance to them. But what kind of impersonal being could possibly do that? Certainly if the laws of the universe reduced to chance, nothing of ethical significance could emerge from it. What of ethical significance can random collisions of subatomic particles?184 What loyalty do we owe to pure chance? Of course, most antisupernaturalists find ethical value not in pure chance, but in some sort of impersonal structure in the universe. Perhaps it is conceived on the model of physical law: just as what goes up “must” come down, so in the moral sphere one “must” love one’s neighbor. But as I indicated earlier in a note, there are significant differences between physical and moral laws. And the main question here is: How can an impersonal structure create obligation?
(Again, we have a major is-ought problem.) Or: On what basis does an impersonal structure demand loyalty or obedience? One thinks of the fatalism of ancient Greek religion, in which, essentially, fate calls the tune for history. When the tragic hero learns of his fate, he might fight it, but in time he will be crushed by that all-controlling destiny. Here, impersonal fate is stronger than anything else. It cannot be resisted. But does that fact imply that we ought to submit to it? Is one nobler if he submits or if he fights? Some Greek thinkers, at least, seemed to think that one who fights fate is noble, even if fate eventually crushes him. Is that not also our own instinct? The fact is that an impersonal principle such as fate is insufficient to create an ought, to rightly demand loyalty and obedience.
Where, then, does the ought come from? What is there that is capable of imposing an absolute obligation on human beings? For the answer, we must leave the realm of impersonal principles and turn to the realm of persons. Obligations and loyalties arise in the context of interpersonal relationships. In terms of Reformed theology, we may put it this way: obligations, loyalties, and therefore morality are covenantal in character. When I receive a bill from a man who has repaired my roof, I feel an obligation to pay it. It is not just that that person (plus the police!) is, like the Greek fate, strong enough to crush me. In the personal arena, there is always another factor: I recognize in the roof repairman a person like myself. And I have the sense about him that he deserves to be paid. Or, to put it differently: when we agreed that he would fix my roof, I promised to pay him. That promise created an obligation, and I would have little respect for myself if I did not keep that promise. We learn morality, typically, in the family—another deeply personal, covenantal environment. Parents rightly demand the obedience of their children, not only because parents are bigger and can spank, but also because they presumably have greater wisdom and experience, greater compassion and goodness, and deep responsibility and love for their children.
Beyond all that, they bear authority simply because they are parents, even when, so far as we can tell, they do not deserve that authority. Other adults might be wiser and more compassionate than one’s parents, but the word of the parent still counts for more—unless it contravenes a still higher moral authority. Our obligations to repairmen and even to parents are not absolute. If the repairman’s bill is ten times his estimate, a higher moral arbiter, the court, might have to be involved. If parents tell a son to murder somebody, it is best that he resort to higher moral authorities, perhaps to his absolute or ultimate moral authority. But where does that authority come from?
Dr. John M. Frame. Apologetics: A Justification of Christian Belief (Kindle Locations 2728-2764). P&R Publishing. Kindle Edition
This has been sufficient for the moment and has helped us understand some problems for impersonalistic accounts of ethics. I think more needs to be said about norms and obligations. We must discuss this question “What are their attributes?” The first issue we will note is that they are objective. We agree that subjectivism is as it always is self-refuting. We must also accept the indispensable feature that morality must have in order to be objective. It must be normative. That means it commands, directs, demands, and favors us to do certain activities. This means that these moral commands are in fact objective. These moral commands are themselves commands of reason. They require design and intent. Suppose for the moment we discovered a machine that was not working. If we were to study it and find the issue and it began to work. If you would notice the implicit assumption in our reasoning was the notion that the machine was meant to do any activity. To say something ought to be doing something implies that it was meant, intended, designed to do such an action. That means when we wish to say a man was suppose to act a certain way implies he was meant to act a certain way. We seem to be on the way of understanding something about these demands. They are commands of reasons, they are commands that direct us to act certain ways, this source that commands us must be personal, we must be designed to act in accordance with this beings moral prescriptions. This seems to imply that behind moral commands are moral commanders. The problem is these commanders simply can’t be human agents. Human agents aren’t absolute. The result would be that we could not preserve the objectivity of ethics. The other option is that an absolute personal rational mind commands us.
What kind of a mind would it have to be? It would have to have a few properties. It must be omniscient. If it wasn’t then it could be mistaken about what our obligations, command, and duties are and must be. It must be omnibenevolent. If it wasn’t, then how could we trust it to be the absolute standard of ethics. It must be unchanging. If it were to change, then our duties and commands are changeable on the whim of this being. This being in virtue of these attributes must be a se. He is not dependant on anything that exists. It seems like this being must also be knowable and if we are to know our obligations then he has revealed himself.
Van Til used the phrase to point out how God differed from other God concepts. As Frame puts it “Unlike any non-Christian view, the biblical God is both absolute (a se, self-existent, self-sufficient, self-contained) and personal (thinking, speaking, acting, loving, judging).” This makes him the perfect metaphysical starting point for a meta-ethic.
Let’s look at three non-Christian perspectives:
Deontological ethics is the normative ethical position that judges the morality of an action based on rules. These are often stated to be our “Duty”. The common norm chosen for this is “That you should do to others as you want them to do to you.” The problem is that without an absolute personal authority commanding you to not be a hypocrite you will have no reason to follow this norm. Why should I follow the principle of doing to others what I want to be done to me? I can imagine a lot of things that I would like to do to others that I don’t want to be done to me.
Teleological ethics maintains that moral duties and obligations are derived from what is good or desirable as an end to be achieved. The common example of this is utilitarianism. Utilitarian ethics says that we ought to maximize “utility,” the sum of benefits for all human beings. The problem with this ethical view is many. Why do we favor the species over another? Why Human utility and not animals? Another problem is it is self-refuting. Utilitarianism itself doesn’t provide much utility. Most of mankind survived and thrived without utilitarianism. How do we measure utility without norms for measurement? What constitutes utility? A Nazi’s view of utility is to kill all inferior races. It may benefit poor people to steal from richer people. For different groups constitutes different utility. Why does human utility constitute that something is good? That seems like you are trying to get an ‘ought’ from an ‘is’.
Some atheist have resurrected Plato to save their ethical systems. They would maintain that a realm of forms that transcends this world and that they ground our norms. The problem is what obligates us to the forms? Why think that these forms perfectly reflect how humans should act? They are abstract ideals that have no relationship to this world. They have no causal power. They are just impersonal abstract objects. We also would just be describing how these objects are. That is moving from an ‘is’ to an ‘ought’.
Lastly, some are Moral Non-realist. They accept that no moral or ethical facts are true or false. That leads to some issues:
Jimmy’s argument against Moral anti-realism:
P1. If moral realism is false, there are no categorical norms.
P2. If there are no categorical norms, all epistemic norms are hypothetical.
P3. If all epistemic norms are hypothetical, epistemic norms are arbitrary, de facto.
P4. If epistemic norms are arbitrary, knowledge is impossible.
P5. If moral realism is false, knowledge is impossible.
C: Moral realism is true (viz. not false).
P1 rests on the notion that if one is obliged to some state or action x ipso facto, then it is simultaneously a fact of the matter that one ought x and x is an objective value incumbent upon humanity. In other words, categorical norms, if they exist, must be moral norms. P2 is analytical, and P5 is entailed by the truth of the former premises. P4 is intuitive, so I’ll wait for it to be challenged.
P3 is the real controversy. Its justification lies in the fact that any adjudication of a hypothetical norm inevitably depends on the whims, intentions, agreement, or other act of volition on the part of its subject. We could clarify and defend this with one further (and quite simple) argument.
P1. If x is a hypothetical norm, x is not inherently incumbent upon its subjects.
P2. If norm x is not inherently incumbent upon its subjects, it is voluntary.
C: If x is a hypothetical norm, x is voluntary (i.e. dependent on the above-mentioned exercise of will to be incumbent).
As Dr. John Frame states:
Some would say that these values are merely individual subjective feelings. On this view, I call the thief’s action “evil” or “wrong” because I am emotionally repulsed by robbery. Well, it’s easy enough to describe other people’s ethical standards as subjective or emotional. But few of us, if any, would be willing to describe our own standards that way. When we call an action “evil” or “wrong” (rather than, say, merely “repellent”), we normally intend to say something objective. Robbery is not wrong because we dislike it; rather, we dislike it because it is wrong. Our evaluation of robbery, in other words, is not just our own subjective taste; it is a judgment that we are obliged to make and that, moreover, we believe everyone else is also obliged to make. Those who make the wrong judgment are not merely creatures with odd emotions; they have violated a basic principle that binds human beings. Those who approve of robbery and murder are not merely mistaken, not merely odd in their emotional makeup; they are wicked. They are violating a norm179 that is just as real as the law of gravity. … So as a matter of fact, we act and think as if these values were objective, rather than merely subjective. Theoretically, of course, it is possible that we are wrong in thinking this way. But if we deny objective values, we should be aware of the price we must pay. For denying objective values is something far more drastic than merely denying conventional, parochial standards of behavior. It is to deny rationality itself. For what is truth, after all? It is many things, but among them, it is certainly an ethical value. The truth is what we ought to believe and what we ought to speak with one another. And those oughts are oughts of ethical value. If they were merely subjective, we would be free to believe and maintain whatever we liked, unconstrained by evidence, logic, or revelation. If ethical values were merely subjective, we could make no ethical case against someone who refused to consider facts and who consequently lived in a dreamworld of his own making.
John M. Frame. Apologetics: A Justification of Christian Belief (Kindle Locations 2684-2706). P&R Publishing. Kindle Edition.
Dr. James Anderson:
Atheism, Amoralism, and Arationalism
Dr. John Frame:
The Council 