Us humans are fascinated by the idea of morality. Almost all of us, with very few exceptions, think about it often, and carry, for better or worse, an internal compass that guides us.
For something so heavily discussed, so present in our everyday interactions and decisions, one would imagine morality to be settled science. Ironically, it is not science, and it is far from settled. Still, our attempts to trap lightning in a bottle have resulted in some of the greatest philosophical works in history.
These days, debates about morality, and the systems that attempt to explain it, happen online constantly. I would even venture to say daily. The focus is almost always the same: opposing teams arguing over which system is superior, more real, or at least more effective. But sometimes I wonder if that is not as important as we make it out to be.
Many years ago, I was visiting a good friend in Brazil, and somewhere between sharing drinks and pizza, which I’m told is international protocol, he confessed his updated opinion on the Sacred Book he was raised with: the Catholic Bible. His conclusion made so much sense to me that I eventually became his echo.
Sacred books, and belief systems in general, work like potentializers. If you are a good person, you will find all the inspiration you need between their pages. Your lens will allow you to extract the positive elements from the stories, and even find virtue hidden within darker passages.
But a potentializer works both ways, and that is why some of the worst people in history also had a sacred book they constantly referred to.
So maybe the conversation should move away from trying to determine which belief system is better, and move more toward understanding the mechanism we all seem to use to lens our lives, and lens morality itself. I find myself far more interested in understanding the existence of that potential, both for good and for evil.
Maybe I’m alone here, but I find that quest far more productive as well.
MenO
