It has been argued that the people of France are the best protesters in the world. Since 2018, over 3 million people participated in the Gilet Jaunes movement. The point was to protest against the prices of fuel, cost of living and inequality. They bought the French government to its knees. And more importantly, they did so wearing the very uniform of the powers that they felt oppressed them – the high visibility vest.
This wasn’t the first time the French had came to play.
Before the turn of the 17th century, the church was the judge, jury and executioner of western Europe. It dictated over society and philosophy, often times on pain of death.
The enlightenment of the 1600s was almost a miracle in and of itself. It is universally responsible for the world we live in today, both good and bad. It was a time that broke the yoke of the church and its control on the people and the state. It led to new movements of individuality and thinking – most notably in the breaking away of the new concept of evidence-based science from the two-thousand-year-old notion of “natural philosophy”.
One of the key thinkers was a man called Rene Descartes. His book – Meditations – threw sand in the eyes of religious scholars at the time. In it, he suggested that the only thing that anyone can be absolutely certain of, beyond all measure of trickery, hallucination or doubt, is that you, as an individual mind, exist. His work is summed up in the maxim “I think, therefore I am”. The book was published in common French at the time, as opposed to Latin, which was the fashion back then. Part of his genius was that Latin was far less well understood than French among the people. As a result, the book took France by storm. Its cynical view of reality upset all those who believed unswervingly in the existence of God.
However, what the French take away, they also give. Shortly after Descartes published his book, another Frenchman, named Blaise Pascal, took to the stage. He embellished Descartes’ view. He suggested that if I can think, then I can also gamble.
Pascal’s Wager
Pascal argued that although Descartes had proven that the existence of God wasn’t certain, one should live as if it were. Why? Simple. The benefits outweighed the costs. If one lived life with all manner of pleasure and sin and God wasn’t real, then who cares. It doesn’t matter. Death is death. See you later. However, if God was real, then that same life of strife and sin would condemn a soul to eternal damnation.
If you lived a life of purity, however, despite your doubt, then you would be granted a ticket to eternal exaltation.
In Pascal’s eyes, it was better to hope for the best and plan for the worst. Live as if God is real, even if you didn’t believe in it. Then you’ll be safe either way.
The House always wins
But what if St Paul at the gates of heaven looms over you and asks “Well what did you really think?”. You stare up at him, a little dazed following your hopefully peaceful passing and say “Ah well, I thought it was better that I hedged my bets”.
Would the almighty be happy with anyone who tried to game the system? Who knows. But critics of Pascal’s wager suggest that living this double life would surely serve against you. No one likes a liar. Especially not the almighty. So maybe embracing your life of pleasure is the better way to go.
It’s a tricky one. But is there a way to engage with Pascal’s wager without being disingenuous? Probably. And if so, it would surely entail the tenants that are generally shared by all religions. Be nice. Be kind. Don’t kill each other. And most importantly, don’t covet thy neighbour’s oxen (we’ve all been there).
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