The argument of Pascal’s Wager is an example of a pragmatic argument for belief. The argument is that belief is useful, not that it is true. Though Pascal’s argument is flawed and in any case is stated in terms that do not appeal to the contemporary theological mind, similarly pragmatic arguments suggest themselves. If belief (in God or in some particular religious system in detail) makes us happier, why should we not try to inculcate it into ourselves, if necessary by non-rational means? A friend of mine, an exceptionally admirable philosopher of long-standing positivist bent, said to me that it was a pity to deprive people of their religious beliefs, since these gave them solace, and he said that he himself regretted not being able to share these beliefs. Now consider the case of a hypothetical person Mary who believes that if she continues the study of philosophy she would lead an unhappy life, missing belief in God and perhaps belief in an afterlife. Should she abandon philosophy and confine her studies entirely to (say) electronics or pure mathematics? Mary might feel that there would be something shameful in taking such a course, but it is not easy to see how from a consequentialist and prudential point of view it would not be the right one.
Of course consequentialism is not (and in my opinion ought not to be) purely prudential. It needs to consider not only one’s own happiness but that of all sentient creatures. Now Mary might consider that her religious beliefs, solacing though they are for herself, are indirectly harmful. She might point to various consequences of religious belief that she considers harmful. Religious wars might be one of them, overpopulation with the probability of mass starvation, disease and eventual world population collapse, might be another, with religious beliefs making population control hard to bring about. So Mary might think in a consequentialist way that arguing herself out of her religious belief might improve the general happiness even though not her own happiness. Alternatively she might think that knowing the truth is one of her intrinsic values. She might want the truth at all costs, even at that of her own happiness. Let us for the sake of argument suppose that Mary’s beliefs about the bad social consequences of religion are false or that the evil effects are outweighed by the good social works undertaken in the name of religion. What about the prudential considerations?
Once again, we might consider that Mary could be wrong about the empirical facts. In my experience arguing oneself out of one’s religious beliefs can bring about peace of mind, since one does not need all the time to square one’s religious beliefs with continuing developments in cosmology, biology and for that matter philosophy. (Some deny that there is nowadays conflict between science and religion but I have challenged this view on pp. 9–13.) The philosopher and logician Arthur Prior once confirmed to me in conversation that this sort of peace of mind can indeed come from rejection of one’s previous theological beliefs.
(J. J. C. Smart, "Atheism and Theism," chap. 1 in Atheism and Theism, 2d ed., by J. J. C. Smart and J. J. Haldane, Great Debates in Philosophy, ed. Ernest Sosa [Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2003], 6-75, at 48-9 [italics in original])
Keith Burgess-Jackson, J.D., Ph.D. 