Ethics For Unbelievers: a Ten-Point Plan

James Miller, A Better Ten Commandments: A Guide To Living With, and On Purpose

Over 130 years ago, Friedrich Nietzsche postulated that a new philosophy was dawning, a moral structure without recourse to God. But Nietzsche punted on what that philosophy actually looked like. Ever since, unbelieving philosophers great and small have attempted to step into that gap, but their philosophies have generally suffered terminal vagueness, lacking a firm foundation. They’ve mostly offered bromides like “Live Well” and “Be Creative.”

Entrepreneur James Miller becomes the latest to join this chorus, and his moral philosophy is remarkably good. His code, though sometimes suffering the broad generalities that plagued Camus and Russell, nevertheless provides a framework people can use to live a fulfilling and meaningful life, without turning to higher powers. Though a believer myself, I find plenty to like about Miller’s slim, plain-English philosophy. But it isn’t really Ten Commandments.

In his introduction, Miller gives a brief autobiographical precis, including how he came to disbelieve conventional religion, and explains his reasoning process. He pooh-poohs Moses’ original Top Ten because rigid obedience to concise laws creates moral contradictions—a conclusion that wouldn’t surprise theologians from Augustine to Bonhoeffer. Modern, pluralistic society needs more elastic ethics, responsive to today’s difficult moral throes.

Yeah, probably.

Then Miller disparages Moses’ Commandments as “common sense.” That’s problematic. I’ve read sociologists like Duncan J. Watts, who agree that common sense seems obvious mostly because we already know the answer. Though unbelievers could seriously dispute stuff about graven images and keeping the Sabbath, laws about murder, theft, and adultery need to be written down because some people need them spelled out, in black and white.

Okay, laying that trepidation aside, what do Miller’s actual “commandments” look like? Pretty good, actually. Exhortations like “Be the Best Version of Thyself,” “Find Perspective,” and “Cultivate a Rational Compassion” make admirable life goals, especially as Miller unpacks exactly what he means. Dedicated opponents could nitpick Miller’s precepts for contradictions, of course, but that’s true of all moral codes, religious or secular. Miller’s code is malleable enough to encompass difficult conditions.

James Miller

My problem isn’t Miller’s precepts; it’s his reasoning. Moses’ Commandments represent a floor. God supposedly declared these ten standards as a bottom standard below which we cannot sink, and still call ourselves His people. Levitical law works upward from that, creating more intricate rules about why we can’t eat shellfish, razor our beards, or weave cloth from two fabrics. Moses’ Commandments are bottom-up reasoning.

Miller’s Commandments, by contrast, represent top-down reasoning. His Commandments are well-meaning goals we should strive toward, but he requires justification for why they’re important, or what they even mean. The justifications he provides are quite good, drawing on an impressively catholic selection of Eastern and Western philosophy, different religions, science, and more. His reasoning is well-supported, yet somehow never quite finds its floor.

Anyone who’s ever had or worked with children knows it’s possible for obstreperous two-year-olds to lapse into an infinite regression of “But Why?” Adults do something similar when pushing moral boundaries, coming up with reasons why fusty ethics don’t apply in my situation. Parents eventually fall onto the “just because” argument, and religions do much the same, declaring that God unilaterally forbids murder, theft, and adultery, just because, so shhh!

Miller implicitly accepts some moral floor exists somewhere. Early on he writes: “Of course, no rule is perfect, so I must insist on a few caveats. If being the best version of yourself includes unethical or unsustainable behaviors, this rule doesn’t really pan out.” Literally, that’s on page two; versions of this thinking get repeated periodically throughout. So ethics and sustainability exist beneath Miller’s given Top Ten. What, then, are they?

I can’t really say. Though Miller accepts a Platonic ideal of goodness exists somewhere, it remains abstract beneath his standards. Therefore his standards, good though they are, remain beholden to some foundation, somewhere, which we still hope to discover. Without an absolute bottom line, Miller’s “commandments” remain subject to “But Why?” thinking which could literally regress infinitely. That’s how social corruption works. We must draw the line eventually. What does that line look like?

I still don’t know.

Miller provides a workable second-tier moral code without reliance on religion or divine revelation, I’ll give him credit. Readers who already have some idea what ethics and sustainability mean to them could apply his principles productively. But his moral floor remains vaguely defined, the problem which has plagued skeptical philosophers since at least David Hume. Miller provides a good moral framework, admittedly. But it’s too soon to call them Commandments.