Unironically, It is likely the most fundamental question imaginable. There was a time when often I was asked The Question. Then, I would often say “No.” People often had a this or a that to say in response, and I often felt forced to defend myself.

I was compelled, forced, driven, or perhaps rather inspired to genuinely consider the intricacies of The Question. I ultimately found that The Question begs infinitely more questions, however. Not the least of which: What or Who is the God in question?

In this part of the world, the part in which I live, God refers most commonly to the Judeo-Christian God. However, I posit that The Question is more fundamental if existence is considered before purpose, motivation, nature, etc. are deemed necessary to define. For the purposes of this conversation, “God” will refer to the theoretical Creator of the physical world, as will any other of His monikers. To assume any truths about the nature, reason, instruction, etc. of such a being only serves to divide us into likely either hostile or defensive factions for the duration of the conversation. Do I believe in Her, this Creator?

Perhaps you’d like to know my answer to The Question. There are reasons to check either box, yes or no. Some are better, at least more persistent, than others. I have considered several.

One reason might be one of utility, that the world is made better with God, for instance. The truth of the claim is often taken as granted. If it is true, it seems to be a good reason to believe in God. However, it may be false. We cannot know, for the only world we know has long featured a majority of the population which believes in God. If He were never proposed to have been revealed, the world might have been better. Similarly, it may have been worse. This is perhaps an attractive hill on which to die, but I’d rather consider the claim that we cannot know either case to be factually true and move with haste to another hill.

Why though would I prefer to consider the claim as a fact?

There is rationale which could serve as ammunition for either claim, that God, rather religion – and other similar faiths in the supernatural – either has or hasn’t served as a good and effective institution for the world and its constituents. People have performed some fairly condemnable actions in service to their God; of course, people have done some equally condemnable things for other reasons as well. Regardless, if we imagine a world in which no religion had ever been proposed or at least professed to subsequent generations as valid, then whatever world we imagine is surely nothing more than an assumption without evidence and certainly not this world, in any case. One might dare to suggest blasphemously that this hypothetical world is free of war, free of tribalism and free of pety disputes; more educated, more curious and more thoughtful; and perhaps even more tolerant. Another might suggest that the same world is free of any consistent ethical obligation, consisting predominantly of hedonistic, existentially terrified individuals with no direction and with ultimately meaningless desires. It seems to me that both are grossly overstated, but some will be attracted to one of the two claims. Still more will be attracted to some other claim. Unfortunately, not one is provably false, nor is any varifiably true. The disagreement will likely persist indefinitely, at least until one such hypothesis is realized. Such a realization will not likely occur within our lifetime, so let’s put a pin in that for now.

Similarly, one might claim that the individual’s experience is made better when God is proposed and subsequently believed to be true. This is certainly true at least in many cases, though perhaps not in all cases. However, one might then ask still more, equally doubtful questions: Can anything else, i.e. other than belief in God’s existence, make the individual’s experience better? Would that/those alternative(s) necessarily be good or otherwise worth believing in? What does it mean for one’s experience to be made better? I first consider the last question to establish a foundation for determining what is better to gauge whether or not this better can be effectively achieved without God.

One might claim that, simply put, the individual’s experience is made better when suffering experienced by said individual is minimized. That is the primary concern. Furthermore, once suffering is minimized, then an increase in pleasure would be required for additional betterment. As it stands, this is dangerously close to and essentially synonymous with the definition of hedonism. One might, however, claim that it is additionally necessary that the individual would want primarily to be fundamentally conscious and socially present. That is, one might presuppose that a well-reasoned individual would not willfully choose to spend the entirety, nor even the majority of their life either in isolation or under the influence of powerful intoxicants, say halucinagens or artifucially produced realities. That is not to say that the occasional intoxication is necessarily condemnable. Rather, it is meant that one likely would not willfully choose to spend the majority of their days in ecstacy if the feeling were only a result of chemical or artificial intervention. More is required for one’s life to be readily considered good and meaningful. Similarly, there are some who truly do choose total isolation, but this is not the general case. In fact, it is among the rarest of humanity’s behavioral phenomena.

One might object by insisting that helping others, i.e. providing pleasure for others, is actually what makes one’s experience better. This is true in many cases, that acts of service to others improve the individual’s experience in some meaningful way. However, the implication that selfishness and selflessness are fundamentally disjoint, predominantly inconsistent or even discernible is not remotely obvious. If it is pleasing to the individual to ease the burden of others, then the instantiation of such a pleasurable experience is neither obviously selfish nor obviously selfless. Ultimately, the line between the two seems to be a matter only for the individual to know, and even said individual could incorrectly identify the primary motivation. For instance, if I assist another with a task, and their burden is eased as a result, they likely would be pleased, i.e. they would experience pleasure. I might then claim that I was primarily concerned with the pleasure/needs/wants of the other individual. However, if I experience pleasure as a result as well, one might reasonably question how I could be sure that the pleasure I would have experienced is not the true motivation for the interaction. In the case such that I could be certain, how could any other be certain that I had told the truth? Even if I lived the entirety of my life in such a way that was maximally benefitial to those around me, one still could not conclude with certainty that I had done so selflessly. Perhaps only the action matters. Rather, perhaps the subjective truth of the motivation is more fundamental than any supposed universal truth. Either position seems to result in yet more problems. Ultimately, while helping others often does improve the individual’s experience, it does not guarantee that the original claim is false. In fact, helping others may be a means of achieving personal pleasure and nothing more. Furthermore, there is often, perhaps in all cases, some natural/biological/Darwinian utility in so-called selfless acts of service or charity, and it may be the case that ethically virtuous actions are governed primarily by such utilities.

Of course, that is not yet conclusive. It is not yet and may not ever be empirically provable that morality and ethics arise only as an evolutionarily advantageous adaptation, nor is it so provable that there is some divine Legislator of moral law. It is absolutely unpopular to suggest either that the two coexist or that the two are synonymous. Otherwise, The Question might stop even being a question.

One might insist that pleasure cannot exist without suffering. Admittedly, this is a difficult objection with which to contend. It sounds so reasonable, for how then would pleasure be distinguished, much less enjoyed? Well, pleasure by definition would be enjoyed, so the claim seems to be that pleasure and pain are not disjoint, perhaps furthermore that neither can exist without the existence of the other. I do see some beauty in the idea. It seems to alleviate some of our existential dread, given that both certainly exist within the world we know.

“Well, that solves The Problem of Evil, except that it doesn’t,” others would say with obvious, unnecessary sarcasm. Why doesn’t it? Perhaps the claim is false, and genuine pleasure can exist in a world devoid of suffering. In fact, such a world is even conceivable. Imagine a world such that each pleasurable experience is immediately replaced by a more pleasurable experience. Imagine the magnitude of the pleasure experienced to be ever-inflating and uniquely instantiated; thus, boredom would never ruin such bliss. One might suggest that such a world would be less meaningful. This claim either assumes or implies that success which overcomes struggle is necessarily more valuable than success without struggle. I know not what founds such an assumption. The presumption of both God’s existence and Her nature seems necessary in order to draw such a conclusion. Otherwise, the claim is only anecdotally true, rather than necessarily so.

One might then deny the concept and decry such a world as utterly inconceivable. However, this would be to deny Heaven. That would be a problem, no? It seems useless to consider God without Heaven. Why does it seem so? Perhaps God is only useful if It also promises eternal bliss. How tempting, indeed, this strange desire for Forever.

One likely to be named “The Provocateur” might dare to posit another blashphemous question: What if God truly exists and in fact created The Universe only to torment us, His slaves and toys, by revealing Herself to many factions, revealing slightly different truths, demanding slightly different obligations and promising equally false promises each time, knowing we’d fall as victims of our own tribalistic tendencies?

To scoff at such a notion is an understandable reaction, if ultimately inconclusive.

An interesting phenomenon has taken place, as it often does during the course of this conversation. The logos, the logic of the discussion has overshadowed the appeal of the ethos (authority) and pathos (emotion) thereof. I hope not to offend as I disregard whatever ethos might be found herein. Neither you nor I can possess any authority regarding the determination of God’s existence for anyone other than ourselves, respectively, nor does the imposing nature of The Question speak to Its validity. What though should be said about the emotions which come with the consideration of divinity? I said that my beliefs were mine alone, but am I not now alone, after all? I cannot determine whether or not God exists with reason and nothing more. To do so has proven thus far to be impossible. The existence of such an entity is and will ever be unfalsifiable, and we certainly cannot force such a being to reveal Itself. However, I have felt that feeling which many either have felt or will feel, that feeling of purpose revealed and identity realized. Some believe that such a feeling is the very grace of God; indeed, the feeling is undeniably motivating and remarkably enlightening. I believe in the power of this feeling. I believe that, if we assume that God is real, we certainly are made to some degree in Her image, for once this enlightenment is achieved, once we know our value and aim all that we are at the ultimate good, we can affect positive change previously assumed to be impossible. I believe that, if we assume God is real, He would not likely have allowed us to feel such a feeling accidentally. Rather, that feeling would more likely be something akin to The Revelation. I understand how attractive such a notion is. Indeed, I understand perfectly well. And yet-

How could I ever say that I believe in God? What would I mean? Would it be true? Would it be a lie?

Even if I never said it aloud, would it be true within myself? Would He believe me?

Surely, if I did truly, completely, undyingly believe in such a thing, then I could not possibly be the same me who didn’t for so long. Would I or rather could whoever I would be ever again be led astray if I so believed that She who loved me so much as to allow me to exist was watching? Would I be so bold as to believe that this world, in all of its unimaginable magnificence, was made for me and us Earthly beings alone? Would I hope and pray relentlessly that He might allow me to exist eternally in bliss? Can bliss be eternal? Should it? Have I earned the right to believe in Him? Have I earned Its compassion? Does She care at all? If so, why? Why would You allow me to suffer so? If we didn’t exist, would You?

For these, and similarly for any other doubts, the answer would presumably be and has always been faith, to have faith that our best interests have been and always will be considered; to free ourselves of this existential terror, this relentless onslaught of doubt; and to trust that God would act as our proverbial shepherd to The Kingdom. And yet-

Logic rears Its demonic heads once more to tell me how naive I’ve been, how narcissistic I am. After all, what evidence do I have to claim so confidently that such a feeling is in any way divine? What makes the experience of this rarity I call consciousness so special? Is it only special because it is rare? I dare not to say yes, for I’d be compelled to horde such rarities as the precious metals religiously…but consciousness is surely much rarer than such lifeless things, no? What though of the ever rarer lifeless things which conscious life has made? Those are surely at least as rare as we are. If this is so, and I reject the prior proposal, then what again I ask myself is so special, so divine about consciousness? Even if conscious life is the ultimately uncommon occurence, is importance directly guaranteed by this truth? Perhaps it is rather more important that the conscious being can affect the most change, yet I worship not supervolcanos, nor nuclear bombs, nor exploding stars, nor coliding black holes. Perhaps it is the capacity for reason that is special. No, surely not. That is certainly a means to an end, no? It seems to be. The fundamental value of us surely cannot be yet another means to some other, presumably more fundamental end. Is it that we can suffer? Is it that we can love? No, of course not. What is so valuable about either of those phenomena, aside from their presumed universal rarity? And haven’t I established that what is rarest might not necessarily be most valuable? Is it that we can create things which are more powerful even than us? Could that be our value, the divinity within us? Well, surely not, for we have at least the ability to create such things, things even which have said ability. Is artificial intelligence as special, as divine as we are? Could ever it be so? If so, how could we justify enslaving such a creation? Would we then meet our own creations in Heaven or Hell? If we deny that we are capable of such a creation, what then is our divine value? Perhaps what is so special about us is that we can perceive the physical world. If there existed no such thing that could perceive the physical world, would it even exist? If it is true that only what is perceived by us exists…well, that would present a problem, no? I do not perceive God, after all. I do not, right? Do I? I do not use my physical senses to do so. I cannot use reason to realize Her, and He has given me such emotions which can be wrong, misguided, unfounded or otherwise untrustworthy. How then could I trust the subjective, emotional experience of God? Perhaps it is not consciousness, not even life, but the entirety of The Universe which is that divinely special thing. We only know of one, after all. Why then should we ever wish, or be made just so, to leave it?

Still more doubts persist in many. I defy anyone to presume to know the right and true resolution to such doubts, yet I cannot even rightly defy anyone to make such a presumption.

I have tried. Ever as those before me have I tried to justify a simple “Yes.” or “No.” I once referred to the answer to The Question as “my answer” without any trace of irony. How preposterous to suggest that I might possess The Answer, that It might have ever been created, owned or adopted by me. Alas, I am not now able to possess such a thing, nor is It now able to possess me. The personal anguish thereby caused has been worse even than what His/Her/Its assumed absence ever caused. The Question begs Another which begs Another, and The Cycle continues. I have followed only some of the possibly infinite, persistent maybe’s – each giving rise to one or more of its own – to no end, nearly to the point of madness. On this ground, I conclude that I simply, definitively, unyieldingly do not know and that my faith alone is not and cannot plausibly be sufficient ground upon which to establish such a belief as my own in God.

I beg only for two more blessings, though I wonder if they can truly be considered more. I beg that I am afforded the merciful privilege of ignorance, and I beg that I am returned to my prior nothingness, rather than condemned to eternity. With those granted, I would certainly be both temporary and content.

Judge rightly any way as You would wish, and continue to let us others be, if only for a while.