Anti-Calvinistic Argument #2 - A Thought Experiment

For those of you who prefer "thought experiment arguments," here's the second installment of my anti-Calvinistic push.

A Calvinist Thought Experiment

Let us stipulate that recreational drug use is morally wrong and that anyone consuming drugs is doing what is morally impermissible. Now suppose there is a drug Z with the following characteristics. Any person exposed to Z while in the womb will automatically develop a lifelong overpowering addiction to Z. This addiction will be such that no matter how hard the addicted individual struggles, they will be unable break their addiction by their own strength. They can, by there own efforts, control the addiction (somewhat) in particular cases of cravings. They can also keep it from becoming an all consuming obsession and destroying their lives completely. But the addiction is ultimately overpowering for all of them, no matter how sincerely they want to quit, and they will continue to use Z all the while knowing that it is morally wrong for them to do so.

Are these "womb exposed" addicts morally responsible for their drug use? Could they justly be blamed or held accountable for their continued drug use? Could any such rule be a just rule? Granted, they each “choose” to use Z, and the desire that compels them to do so is “internal to them,” i.e., they were born that way and their cravings are a part of their existing natures. And yes, they always have the power to resist Z in any particular case of desire, so they “could” have done better in each case of failure. But given that the addiction is genuinely overpowering, can they correctly be blamed for their on-going use of Z?

Suppose further that you have developed an antidote (antidote X) that will break the power of drug Z universally. You own X and possess exclusive rights to X. All resources used in X’s development were yours, and you had no help from anyone in developing it. Thus, you can give X to whomever you wish, but you are obligated to offer it to no one. That is, no one has a right against you to be given X.

Additionally, suppose you are telekinetic and can motivate addicts to psychologically want to receive X from you freely. (A strange side-affect of drug Z, heretofore unmentioned, is that Z distorts people’s perspectives and makes them irrationally distrust YOU in particular.) Finally, suppose that no one owns anything that you consider valuable, so they cannot motivate you to let them purchase X, or trade something for it. They must take it from you freely, or not have it at all.

In short, unless you both offer X to people freely, and motivate them telekinetically to trust you to receive it, they will remain addicted to Z and continue to use Z, no matter how much they would prefer not to be addicted and no matter how guilty they feel about using Z.

Finally, suppose that you decide (for your own indiscernable reasons) to offer X to 1000 people and to telekinetically motivate those 1000 people to take X from you. They thus become drug free and morally upright with respect to drug use. But suppose that you also decide (again, for your own indiscernable reasons) not to do either of these things for 10,000 of their neighbors, so that these people remain addicted to Z. Suppose further that you are the criminal judge for the jurisdiction in which all 11,000 of these people reside and that consumption of Drug Z is criminally prohibited in this jurisdiction.

Could it be “just” for you to sentence the remaining addicts to jail for their drug use? Can you “justly” punish people for the existence of a problem that they, as unique individuals, did not bring upon themselves and have no control over? Or can you “justly” punish these people for the continued existence of a problem that you alone hold the remedy for, but which you will neither offer to them nor enable them to want to receive from you freely?

More importantly, could you punish these 10,000 people severely while credibly claiming to love them? What could you possibly mean by the term “Love” if this were the context in which you were meeting out severe punishment for their use of Z?

It seems to me that you can’t “justly” or “lovingly” follow this course of action, assuming that you are using the terms “justly” and “lovingly” in the way that they are normally used.

It also seems that the situation described in this thought experiment is directly analogous to the God, and to the moral universe, described by Calvinistic theology. This means that we must either abandon Calvinistic theology or the view that God is “just” and “loving.”

I personally think it is wiser to abandon the former. But Calvinists, no doubt, think there is something wrong with this argument, either concerning the analogy itself or the inferences that I have drawn from it.

I welcome a response.

Joe H.