Five objective values by christians:
Patriarchy
Conservatism
Blaming the victims
Nihilism: claiming that human life have no values beside what their God says, claiming that the natural world is broken
End of History (eschatological befief)

A very helpful extended analogy can be made by comparing the existence of objective moral values to the existence of the external objective universe.
First, the question of whether the external, objective universe exists is a question of ontology; is there a real world that really exists outside of my own mind? Is there really a chair in my kitchen, or is this just a figment of my imagination?

This question, like the question of the existence of objective moral values, is independent of epistemology: how we know that such a world exists. The objective external universe could exist, even if we have no reliable way to know that it exists. Second, the external objective universe can exist even if my perception of facts about it are not always reliable. Consider the development of the natural sciences over the last four centuries. Scientists in the 17th century had incredibly poor and often erroneous ideas about the natural world.
Since that time, our ideas have presumably become more and more accurate. But it does not follow that the objective universe does not exist or somehow depends upon our perception of it. In the same way, our perception of what is good and evil may change over time without affecting the claim that objective moral values exist. I would be very foolish to use the evolution of our understanding of science over the last four centuries to argue against the existence of an objective universe subject to physical laws.
Finally, one does not need to believe that the universe actually exists to live a fairly normal life. A person might be fully convinced that they are living in some computer-generated fantasy world like the Matrix and might still choose, as a personal preference, to live as if buildings and sidewalks and tables and chairs were objectively real. In the very same way, a person might deny the existence of objective good and evil and could still choose to live a moral life. So a denial of the existence of objective moral values does not demand the adoption of a particularly immoral lifestyle.

Hopefully, this section has cleared up some important misconceptions about what the second premise of the moral argument does and does not claim. In the next section, I will try to provide several good reasons to believe that objective moral values do exist.

References:
'Stealing from God', Why atheists need God to make their case'; Frank Turek; (2014) NavPress
'Do Objective Moral Values Exist?"; Neil Shenvi; www.shenviapologetics.WordPress.com

JimM

2. As I mentioned in the first section, the vast majority of self-professed moral relativists live moral lives. Indeed, many moral relativists will emphasize that they live lives which are indistinguishable or even morally superior to those of moral realists. Yet this leads to a curious observation. The behavior of moral relativists can indeed be partially explained by self-interest. If I value comfort, pleasure, and freedom, I cannot simply walk around punching people in the face, lest I be arrested and imprisoned. But every one of us finds ourselves in situations in which a moral infraction would lead to clear, immediate benefit with little or no chance of detection. Why not shoplift? Why not cheat on your taxes? Why not drive away from the fender-bender if no one noticed? No doubt some of the responses of moral relativists can be explained by fear of detection. And other relativists may indeed act “immorally” in these situations. But if my reader is a moral relativist, I wonder if he can truly explain all of his behavior in these terms? Was it all self-interested? Or was it motivated by an odd compulsion or preference to do what was “right” even when no one was watching?

3. This brings me to my third point, which is perhaps the most obvious: all human beings do seem to have an innate sense that some things are objectively right and others are objectively wrong. In the same way, all human beings have an innate intuition that they have free will and that the external universe actually exists. Now these intuitions might well be illusions. But I think it is undeniable that they exist. I have recently seen first-hand evidence of this fact in interacting with my two-and-a-half year old son. As parents, we have to teach him to share, to be kind, to be gentle, and to do what is good. Often, teaching him to do what is good is a difficult task. But he has not once asked me what I mean by “good”. Indeed, he takes it perfectly for granted that some things are objectively good and some things are objectively bad. He does not occasionally confuse “good” with “whatever Mommy and Daddy impose on me by force” or “what will eventually lead to my own benefit.” Another equally important point is that I can’t even begin to conceive of how a true moral relativist would raise a child. If a child asks his parent why he should not hit his sister, I find it hard to believe that the moral relativist would answer “Because of self-interest. If you hit her, then she might hit you back.” Nor would the parent say “Because I am bigger than you and will punish you if you disobey.” Even the most committed moral relativist will find himself answering “Hitting is wrong. Stealing is wrong. Love and generosity and kindness are good.” Now the moral relativist might console himself with the thought that he is merely introducing a fictional short-hand to be replaced with the bracing truth of moral relativism once the child is old enough to understand. But I find it extremely interesting that thinking in objective moral terms is nearly unavoidable for both children and parents.

4. Although there are a fair number of moral relativists among modern philosophers, moral realism is the majority position among professional academic philosophers, according to a recent poll. Indeed, among those who have a clear preference, professional philosophers favor moral realism over moral antirealism by two to one. Obviously, an appeal to professional philosophers does not prove that objective moral values exist. But it should give a moral relativist pause. Surely, of all people, philosophers ought to be the most familiar with explanations of morality based on self-interest or evolutionary psychology or group selection. Isn’t it odd, then, that they would persist in affirming that objective moral facts exist?

5. What I think is some of the most compelling evidence for the existence of objective moral values actually comes from the affirmation of the Neoatheists, particularly Sam Harris. Harris utterly and vehemently rejects moral relativism and has made the existence of objective moral values one of the central issues in his books. Yet to me and to many of my atheist friends, the idea that objective moral values can exist in the absence of God is an obvious and transparent fantasy. If nature is all that is, then to me and to many atheists, there is obviously no way to call one thing “good” and another thing “evil.” There is no way from bridging the gap between “is” and “ought” as myriads of philosophers have pointed out throughout history. My question, then, is why these naturalistic philosophers so vehemently defend the existence of objective moral values, when their existence is so problematic if nature is all there is (see the recent Craig-Harris debate or the following scathing review of Harris’ book The Moral Landscape by atheist philosopher Michael Ruse). In light of these criticisms, why don’t naturalists like Harris simply deny that objective moral values exist? Why not simply be consistent and dismiss moral values as subjective preferences inculcated into us by our society or programmed into us by our genes? Why vehemently defend a proposition that is seemingly incompatible with one’s worldview?

Having outlined these five empirical observations, I would now like to invite readers to consider two possibilities. The first possibility is that objective moral values exist and that all humans have immediate, intuitive apprehension of their existence. The second possibility is that objective moral values do not exist and that any belief that they do exist is therefore an illusion. Now ask: which of these two possibilities better explains the five points listed above? I am not asking which of the five points proves one conclusion or the other. I am merely asking which of the two possibilities has the most explanatory scope and explanatory power. It seems clear to me that the actual existence of objective moral values and our immediate, intuitive apprehension of their existence is a far more compelling explanation of these five pieces of evidence. If you disagree, I suggest you read through each of these pieces of evidence again, and compare the two alternatives for each case. Obviously, it is possible that these pieces of evidence can be explained by some confluence of group selection (points 1 and 3 — although this theory is extremely controversial and is rejected outright by evolutionary biologists like Richard Dawkins and Jerry Coyne), social pressure to conform (point 2), and peer pressure among philosophers (point 4 and point 5). But is this as plausible an explanation as the hypothesis that objective moral values actually exist and that we all know it? To hold to moral relativism, we would not only need to dismiss each of these pieces of evidence, but we would have to present positive evidence which supports the non-existence of objective moral values. Unless the reader can make such a case, he needs to seriously consider whether his denial of the existence of objective moral values is warranted.

In this section, I have tried to show that belief in the existence of objective moral values is warranted by several pieces of empirical evidence quite independent of our own personal intuition. Even point 3 was the empirical observation that the vast majority of humanity has an immediate, intuitive belief in the existence of objective moral values; I did not appeal to our own personal intuition. To these five points, I might also add that you and I personally have this same strong intuition that objective moral values exist. This intuition is just as strong in us as our intuition that the objective universe exists or that we have free will. We might reject this intuition because our worldview tells us that it must be an illusion. But I see no compelling reason that the presuppositions of our worldview should permit us to either disregard the evidence. However, rather than dwelling on our personal moral intuition, I would like to shift our focus slightly. In fact, I would like to attempt something quite startling. I will attempt to demonstrate that none of us are really moral relativists; we all actually know that objective moral values exist even if we deny this fact intellectually.

III. Do moral relativists really exist?
As I said in the first section, the basic premise of moral relativism is that there is no objective standard of moral behavior. All moral behavior is relative to individual persons or cultures; what is “good” or “bad” depends on the person, on the place and time, on the community, and on the culture. No action and no behavior can rightly be termed “bad” or “good” without qualification. Actions are only “good to you” or “bad to you”, “good to this culture” or “bad to this culture.” In the previous section, I tried to show that –based on the evidence– belief in moral relativism is unwarranted. It is theoretically possible to find ways around the evidence presented above, but each of these pieces of evidence seems to clearly point to the existence of objective moral values. In this section, I will not attempt to show that belief in moral relativism is unwarranted; rather, I will try to show that no one actually believes in moral relativism. To do so, I will ask four questions. Each of them centers around a “thought experiment,” a highly hypothetical situation which probes our reactions to admittedly unlikely circumstances. I urge the reader to take these questions very seriously.

First, imagine some extremely evil action that would provide you with something you greatly value. For instance, since presumably all of us value money to some degree, let us imagine that we could acquire millions of dollars simply by subjecting some innocent child to a painful death. To make things clear, let us also say that our culture condoned such an action, as might have been the case during the Rwandan genocide. What would you do? I think all of us would say that we would absolutely not kill the child. However, the reasons given by a moral realist or a moral relativist would presumably be very different. A moral realist would say that murdering an innocent child is objectively wrong and that no personal pleasure could induce them to commit such an unspeakably evil act. In contrast, a moral relativist might also abhor the murder. But they would have to base their decision on the fact that the negative emotions they would experience from killing the child would far outweigh the positive emotions associated with the money. Since there is no objective standard of good and evil, they would have to appeal to their own preferences to explain their actions.

Second, let’s press this thought experiment further. Now let’s imagine that we faced the same choice, but could also choose to have the memory of our action erased (I think about Cipher’s bargain with the machines in the Matrix). The child would still die painfully, their family would grieve and mourn and lament your action, but you would be utterly oblivious to your deed. You would have the money and would be able to enjoy it free from any memory of the decision. Now what would we choose? Hopefully, we would again choose to let the child live. But this time, the moral relativist has to be a bit troubled. If asked for the reasons behind his decision, he must again point to his personal preference for love, compassion, empathy, happiness, etc… But we could then remind him that he would derive no negative moral emotions at all from the killing as a consequence of his amnesia. In contrast, he would have the very real and concrete positive emotions that would come from his enjoyment of the millions of dollars. Again, a moral relativist would have to appeal to some sense that he prefers an objective reality in which there is no suffering even if he himself is oblivious to it and can derive no pleasure from it.

But this is where the trouble really starts. We next need to ask whether the moral relativist takes daily steps to deaden and kill his negative moral emotions. For instance, there is no question that we all enjoy certain items like money, sex, food, sleep, and leisure. On the other hand, there is also no question that certain moral emotions like guilt and empathy are extremely unpleasant. Anyone who has wept and wept comforting a friend who has lost a loved one or who has stared in horror at images of poverty or starvation, knows that we do not seek out or enjoy these experiences. But if moral relativism is true, then there is nothing inherently good or right about feeling empathy. And since guilt has no objective basis in a moral reality, it is nothing but an extremely unpleasant illusion. Then why does the moral relativist not spend more time trying to divest himself of all feelings of guilt, empathy, and remorse? If these emotions often prevent us from enjoying pleasurable items like money and sex, then why not work to deaden or kill these negative moral emotions? Why does he not work to develop an indifferent attitude towards those in need so that he is free to devote his entire life on his own pleasures? Here again, the moral relativist has a problem. Surely, the cost-benefit analysis is perfectly clear. If there is some way to destroy all negative moral emotions while retaining my ability to enjoy all the easily accessible positive emotions, shouldn’t I be working to find it? Why is it that I, as a moral relativist, don’t devote more time to either shielding myself from human misery or working to harden my heart against it?

There is a final question. Imagine that I offered you an “amorality pill”. This hypothetical pill would permanently destroy all of your capacity to experience negative moral emotions like guilt, empathy, and remorse. But it would leave intact all of your capacity for positive emotions like love, joy, excitement and happiness. To put it starkly, you would still be able to love your wife and children, to experience the vicarious joy of giving them gifts, to feel a rush of tenderness when you kiss them goodnight. However, if you decided one morning that killing them all with an axe would give you great happiness, you would be able to do so without a single twinge of regret or remorse. You could pile the corpses of your children into the fireplace and spend the rest of the day exquisitely enjoying your coffee and the crispness of the autumn leaves. You would be a completely amoral individual like Christian Bale’s character in American Psycho. The amorality pill would set you free from the illusory shackles of morality to pursue your own happiness, utterly indifferent to the pain and misery of others. Would you take the pill?

If you are a moral relativist, you need to seriously grapple with these questions, especially the last one. If moral relativism is true, then there is no obvious reason to not take the pill. The completely amoral monster who could kill his own children has done nothing objectively good or evil, because there is no objective good or evil. The man (or woman) I just described might be rapturously happy. Yet you recoil in horror from the thought that this is the man you could become. Why? I would like to make a bold assertion: you are not really a moral relativist. You may claim that you deny the existence of objective moral truths, but your behavior and your answers to questions like the ones given above show otherwise.

References:
Stealing from God', Why atheists need God to make their case'; Frank Turek; (2014) NavPress
'Do Objective Moral Values Exist?"; Neil Shenvi; www.shenviapologetics.WordPress.com