The Case Against the Moral or Ethical Compass

The denial of anything spiritual within us is fashionable and easy to subscribe to. Apparently, the argument that certain ethical norms seem to originate from our material makeup is used to justify it. Even more—they continue arguing—what’s the point of talking about something spiritual when nothing spiritual exists beyond our own materiality? Not even God exists.

These are questions we need to examine carefully, because the way we live our lives depends entirely on the answers we find. At this point, I encourage you to be courageous and keep reading: much of who we are—and who we can become—depends on the meaning and purpose we derive from what we know about life and ourselves.

There is no proof—no one has ever demonstrated it—of any connection between ethical principles and our anatomy. No one has discovered ethical principles in any part of the brain: not in the reptilian brain, the limbic system, or the neocortex. If you damage any of these regions in an experiment, you damage the person—which, ethically speaking, is equivalent to killing that person.

What am I doing with my life? Why this beauty? What is the true purpose of life?

Everything materialistic scientists or philosophers talk about is just theory. Theories are incomplete and have no inherent value. I can make up any story to justify an attitude—even an error—or defend an opinion. We see this all the time on social media: modern thinkers fill pages and pages with incoherence.

Assumptions and premises are useful and acceptable when supporting viable experiments—which may eventually prove something right or wrong—but not theories. Those who use theories to support their convictions are, quite frankly, deceivers.

If you subscribe to purely materialistic principles, you will eventually find that there is neither end nor direction in whatever you do, even if, in a heated moment, you affirm the contrary. Every achievable aim drives us into an endless search for more goals and further ambitions. There is no good or evil—only your unreachable aim and fleeting satisfaction. Everything becomes relative, and ethical principles dissolve. Life is ruled solely by the strongest, and the law of the jungle prevails. There is no sense in acting for good or bad reasons. Our only hope becomes total annihilation—to rid ourselves of this nightmare. Society turns against itself, degrading its own foundations. (If you study the history of older civilizations, you’ll see this phenomenon reflected in them.)

These same materialistic principles deny the existence of God. You might claim that God is not there but, can you prove it? You will never be able to do so. The fact that you cannot see God does not negate his existence. God is spiritual, and if you deny any form of spirituality, you will never reach him. There is a reality beyond what you see with your own eyes—a spiritual reality that can only be accessed through the innate spiritual capacity that all humans possess.

This spiritual capacity is cultivated through experience. We experience God in the same way we experience love or happiness: by searching, striving, and immersing ourselves in it. This same spiritual capacity is what makes us feel uncomfortable when we witness evil in ourselves or in others. Evil proves that its contrast—goodness—exists. And it is only there that we can find God.

I’m sure you’ve heard of the Camino de Santiago. It’s a beautiful experience. You can compare the Camino to the journey of a lifetime. If you’ve done it, you’d agree—it’s not easy. There are five famous routes, each offering different terrain and varying levels of difficulty. You can trek the full Camino, around 800 km—the French and Castilian way—or walk the minimum 100 km required to receive a certificate.

Along the way, we met Hans. With 83 years on his shoulders and prosthetic knees, he kept a slow but steady pace. He left the albergue early every morning, and of course, we caught up with him along the way. He didn’t say much, but one day we asked him, “Hans, why are you doing the Camino?” It didn’t make sense. His answer surprised us. He said, “Redemption. I want to do it as a way of repairing all the evil I’ve done in my life.” And so we understood that he was referring to the damage he had done to himself in the process.

Hans was moved to change by the evil he had committed. On his Camino, he experienced goodness. The acknowledgment of his guilt and the desire to turn his life around brought him to the right side. The goodness he encountered brought him closer to God.