Monday, May 12, 2008

What Would You Do If...

Because I lean toward a nonviolent ethic, I often get into conversations about the morality of war. Unfortunately, the conversations are entirely too predictable. They always go something like this:

Me: I’m not sure if Christians should resort to violence, no matter what the cause.

Friend: Yeah, but what if the violence is for good reason?

Me: Well, using violent means to stop violence seems morally suspect.

Friend: Sometimes we are obliged morally to do whatever we can to stop evil.

Me: Are we, though?

Friend: Well yes, what would you do if someone broke into your house and was about to…

This hypothetical situation is always (annoyingly) where such conversations end up. I must confess, I hate this, because the hypothetical situation is always used as a trump card, as if it is a situation where one cannot possibly argue a nonviolent position, and thus the poser of such a question tends to assume that concession to such a situational violence endorses any form of violent intervention.

For my sake, as well as for the sake of anyone else who might be inclined toward nonviolence as a stance and has been similarly frustrated by such a hypothetical, I would like to analyze such a hypothetical to see if it really closes the door on the nonviolent stance, as is usually supposed. As a note: many of the ideas/arguments I will propose are mine, but many are set forth by a theologian, John Howard Yoder, whose article I recently read. If anyone cares to read the article, which is a much longer treatment of the issue, I will gladly share it.

Okay, so what if? The hypothetical question has many variations—the alleged criminal intending to kill oneself, rape one’s wife, kill one’s kids, or commit other similarly outrageous acts of a morally reprehensible nature. However, there are many generic elements of the proposed situation that I would like to critique.

First, this situation, as entirely hypothetical, is entirely deterministic. The criminal thus functions as a mechanical part of the dilemma, rather than a real human being. Thus I am the only one in the situation considered to have options, when in fact, in real life, the criminal is an agent in the scenario as well, whose ability to make decisions is equal to mine. He is not an automaton. For whatever reason he is acting as he does, the criminal must be recognized as a player as well.

Second, in the situation, one is assumed to possess absolute knowledge of the intent of the assailant. I wonder how often in real life this is the case. Do criminals often break into houses loudly proclaiming, “I’m gonna rape your wife, kill your kids, then kill you.” This is important, because even if one were to accept the use of violence in a situation of defense, surely killing another human being must be the last resort. It cannot be morally defensible to kill someone for the mere act of theft. Our society is built on the principle that the punishment must fit the crime. Acknowledging this, at what point in the situation does one know for certain that the assailant is going to kill? Further, I think that when one can conclusively know that the criminal intends to kill, it is probably too late for anything to be done. Imagine a standoff, with both oneself and the criminal each leveling handguns at each other: “Are you going to kill me?” “Because if you are, I have already decided I must kill you in defense.” You may object that that is an absurd situation that would never happen. I agree. The point is real situations don’t play out so neatly. I am merely suggesting that the ending of a life is serious business, in which one must be very confident that the act of killing must be justified, if at all, by similar intent to kill by the assailant.


Third, the question is posed in such a form that one is presented with only two options: kill the assailant or allow the misdeed to happen. As Yoder notes, there are more possibilities than these two. Suppose for example, that the attacker intends to kill oneself and one’s wife. Yoder notes these possibilities:

1. Tragedy. The criminal assailant may accomplish the evil he intended, which is argued by the proposer of the situation as the worst possible event.
2. Martyrdom. This is the same result as (1), yet it takes into account the effects of the tragedy. The possibility of martyrdom cannot be excluded for us who claim Christ. It may be that by engaging the criminal I may refocus his attack for such a time that my wife. Martyrdom in the past has stood for the conviction that for Christians, this life is not the end and that God is the ultimate provider of justice. Further, it may be that society, in witnessing the occurrence of such an evil, will be inspired to do more to see that such situations are less likely to happen.
3. There might be another way out.
a. This way out may be providential one. If we as Christians sincerely believe that God works in this world, especially for those who he calls his own, we cannot exclude the possibility of divine intervention.
b. This way out may be natural. If we note that the attacker is a reasonable moral agent, we must allow for the possibility that he may dissuaded from his intent by nonviolent means.
4. I may try to kill the attacker.
a. In doing so, I may succeed, assuming that I have the moral and legal right to do so, and that this is the best option. Account should be taken of the psychological effects of such action, which could have lasting and devastating effects on us as Christians, who have theological reasons to value life, regardless of whether we believe that such an act was justified. Further, the theological consequences of such an action must be considered. In killing the assailant, we (presumably) send the assailant to hell, while those of us who look forward to heaven remain alive on earth.
b. I may try to kill the attacker and fail to do so. This event is actually very likely because we presume that the attacker is adequately prepared for his intended task. It is likely that this may make the situation worse. The attacker, if somewhat harmed, may in anger attack more people, while we in defense have committed a lesser evil (attempting to kill) and not succeeded, with the result that the greater evil has happened as well.


I don’t really know what I would do if someone attacked someone I loved. I realize that in concrete immediate situations, such as set up in the scenario, one is required to make decisions quickly and live with the consequences. I do believe, however, that it is reductionist and uncreative to cast such a situation in the form of two options: kill or be killed. I hope that just by keeping in mind the possibility of a nonviolent solution, I will be able to do not just the lesser evil, but no evil.

3 comments:

Robert Meyer said...

Excellent thoughts. I encounter reductionistic hypothetical situations that seem to trump many other arguments for nonviolence as well. For example, 'gun control.' The argument goes, "even if you forbid people to own guns, the criminals will still have them." Or 'welfare;' "if we don't quit giving hand outs, people will always have a sense of entitlement." I don't believe the dynamics of human interaction are so simple ... so the solution will not be simple either. A commitment to Christian values (like nonviolence) may be difficult or complex, but that should not keep us from following Jesus' example!

It is hard not argue in hypothetical terms, but I agree with you that our Christian commitment must be deeper than simple responses to one-dimensional situations like 'kill or be killed.' As a people, Christians have lost our sense of creativity!

GranolaGwen said...

please share the article. i'm very curious to read what yoder has to say. gwen.la@gmail.com

Neal said...

Dave, you have quite a way of putting arguments into words. We have had conversations about this many times and your dissection of this argument was brilliant.

It is true that hypothetical situations make it difficult to argue every ethical or moral issue, they do make things easier to visualize. One scenario that troubles me is whether we have a moral obligation to stop violence with violence in situations of "mob mentality."

For instance, the situation in Rwanda in the early '90s. I don't think that the individuals commiting those acts were themselves evil or a "mechanical part." However, when the psychological effects of a mob come into effect, these "reasonable" people do not act "reasonable" anymore. Is there another method to stop a mob that seemingly has no pity or remorse than to counteract it with violence? This is, obviously, a different situation than the one that you proposed for many reasons. Cheifly, instead of examining the moral dilemma of an individual, I introduced a society of people and their moral responsibilities.

My own (and Christ's) moral worldview is one of non-violence. I do wonder if violence is morally justified in certain situations from a societal perspective. I would be interested in your thoughts.