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Why God Is Necessary For Morality

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Guest post by Darwin to Jesus

Dostoevsky famously said, “If there is no God, then everything is permitted.”

For years, as an atheist, I couldn’t understand what he meant, but now I do…

Here’s a simple analogy that shows why only theism can make sense of morality:

Imagine you just got hired at a company.

You show up, set up your desk, and decide to use two large monitors.

No big deal, right?

But then some random guy walks up to you and says: “Hey, you’re not allowed to do that.”

You ask, “What do you mean?”

They say, “You’re not permitted* to use monitors that big.”

In this situation, the correct response would be: “Says who?”

We’ll now explore the different kinds of answers you might hear — each one representing a popular moral theory without God — and why none of them actually work.

Subjective Morality

The random guy says, “Well, I personally just happen to not like big monitors. I find them annoying.”

Notice that’s not a reason for you to change your setup.

Their personal preferences don’t impose obligations on you.

This is what subjective morality looks like.

It reduces morality to private taste.

If this were the answer, you’d be correct to ignore this person and get back to work — big monitors are still permitted.

Cultural Relativism

Instead, they say, “It’s not just me — most people here don’t use big monitors. It’s not our culture.”

That’s cultural relativism: right and wrong are just social customs, what is normal behavior.

But notice customs aren’t obligations. If the culture were different, the moral rule would be different, which means it isn’t really moral at all.

You might not fit in. You might not be liked.

But you’re still permitted to use big monitors.

Emotivism

Here after being asked “says who?” the person just blurts out, “Boo, big monitors!”

You reply, “Hurrah, big monitors!”

That’s the entire conversation.

This is emotivism. On this moral theory when we talk about right and wrong we’re actually just expressing our personal feelings towards actions, I boo rape, you hurrah rape.

But shouting “boo!” at someone doesn’t create real obligations.

You’re still permitted to use large monitors.

Utilitarianism

Here, the person says, “Your big monitors lower the overall productivity of the office. You’re not permitted to use them because they lead to worse consequences.”

This is utilitarianism: morality is based on producing the greatest happiness for the greatest number.

But even if that’s true — so what?

Who says you’re obligated to maximize group productivity?

And what if your monitors actually help you work better?

Utilitarianism might tell you what leads to better outcomes, but it doesn’t tell you why you’re morally obligated to follow that path — especially if it comes at your own expense.

You’re still permitted to use large monitors.

Virtue Ethics

Here they say, “Using big monitors just doesn’t reflect the virtues we admire here — simplicity, humility, restraint.”

This is virtue ethics. Morality is about becoming the right kind of person.

But who defines those virtues?

And why are you obligated to follow them?

What if your idea of a virtuous worker includes productivity and confidence?

Without a transcendent standard, virtues are just cultural preferences dressed up in moral language.

If you don’t care about virtue or their arbitrary standards, then you have no obligation.

You’re still permitted to use large monitors.

Atheist Moral Realism

But what if they say, “Listen, there’s a rule. It’s always been here. It says you can’t use monitors that large.”

You ask, “Who made the rule?”

They say, “No one.”

You ask, “Who owns this company?”

They say, “No one owns it. The company just exists.”

You look around and ask, “Where is the rule?”

They say, “You won’t find it written anywhere. But it’s real. It just exists. Like a law floating in space or something.”

You ask, “Okay, but does this rule have anything to do with the actual function of this company? Did someone put it here for a reason?”

They say, “No. It has no context, it just happens to exist for no reason, and even though we don’t have access to it, we believe this rule says your monitors are too big.”

This is atheist moral realism.

It claims that objective moral facts exist, but they come from nowhere, are grounded in nothing, and are backed by no authority.

It’s like walking into an abandoned building, seeing graffiti on the wall that says “Don’t wear red,” and thinking you’re somehow obligated to obey it.

Even if the rule exists in some strange metaphysical way, why does it have any binding force on you?

You’d be right to say:

“That has nothing to do with me, this company, or what I’m doing.”

That’s the problem with atheist moral realism:

It declares that a rule or principle just “exists,” for no explanation, a “brute fact.”

A law, but no lawgiver.

An obligation, but no authority.

Notice in this situation, you’re still permitted to use your large monitors.

Theistic Moral Realism

Now, imagine the person says, “The owner of the company has set a policy. It’s in the handbook. He signed it himself.”

Suddenly, everything changes.

You know the owner has the right to set the rules.

You are now under obligation not just because the rule exists,  but because someone with legitimate authority made it, and since you work for him, and you’re in HIS company, you’re subject to his rules.

In this situation, you’re no longer permitted to use large monitors.

But notice you are actually in the wrong now.

Big monitors are NOT permitted, the boss says.

Conclusion

That’s the only scenario where moral obligation makes sense:

A rule made by someone with rightful authority, for a reason, in a context you are part of.

And that’s why only theism can make sense of morality.

Because only theism gives you a law and a lawgiver.

A standard and someone with the right to enforce it.

Permission requires authority, and only God has ultimate, transcendent authority.

This is why Dostoevsky was right:

If there is no God, everything is permitted — Fyodor Dostoevsky
If there is no God, everything is permitted — Fyodor Dostoevsky

 

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