Can Man Live Without God?

Can Man Live Without God? The dramatic dissonance We live in a ‘schizophrenic’ world fraught with inconsistencies, a post-modern world where the lack of a grand narrative to endow it with a coherent, universal structure has exacerbated this dissonance. The area of morality is a prime region to investigate this dissonance, for it is inhabited by a plethora of voices with varying normative claims, each with their own vested interests in maintaining their position. These voices hail from different traditions, ranging from religious beliefs spanning millennia, to philosophical pondering from recent times. The rejection of absolute truth in post-modernism has rendered none of these claims authoritative to the twenty-first century man. Though he may not claim to subscribe to any position on morality per se, this is where morality reveals itself to be most intriguing - it affects everyone not just intellectually, but also on a personal level. There are no fence sitters in this debate, for even the common man is forced to make all sorts of moral decisions in everyday life - even the man who claims to be amoral, and liberated from these dichotomies, will have to justify and explain himself to the majority of the human race which continue to cling on to these categories of meaning. The absence of an authoritative voice has led to a situation where few are consistent in their moral decisions, instead applying different criterion in different situations; actions done in private are often rationalised, and accepted by many, in morally relativistic terms, while human rights activists justify their campaigns against torture and authoritarian governments according to what seems like a categorical imperative, which remains dominant in Western discourse on human rights. Such ‘dissonance’, as I term it, is problematic on two grounds. First, there can only be one principle of morality an individual holds on to, and allowing such ‘dissonance’ is self-serving, dishonest, inconsistent and hence, renders the moralising of people like the human rights activists illegitimate. Second, it is difficult to compartmentalise life, each segment adhering to differing moral principles - one will eventually grow dominant. Nietzsche, for example, foresaw that while the philosophical death of God as a legitimate idea in Europe took place more than a century ago, it took a long time for people to give up the values associated with the Judaeo-Christian tradition; however, this eventually happened, resulting in the active nihilism through which the horrors of twentieth century totalitarian regimes can be seen (Magnus 21, Hollingdale 254). While many of the implications of the ‘death of God’ can be seen in society today, what continues to be puzzling is why many still live their lives with reference to an intrinsic moral order, though not necessarily calling on the Judaeo-Christian God, but an abstract Good, Nature or the Cosmic Oneness, owing to the popularity of pantheism and Eastern mysticism in the West today. Also, why does rights discourse seem to reflect a consensus on the legitimacy of a categorical imperative in certain areas, a legitimacy which is rejected in other areas? Do these phenomena demonstrate an exceptionally human need for an intrinsic moral order; an inherent, a priori yearning for universal moral norms, without which society could not function sustainably? Can Man live without intrinsic moral order? The debate over what constitutes a ‘correct’ moral vision began over two millennia ago with the Greeks, and continues to rage. However, I contend that this question should also be considered with respect to human nature, for it is no good talking of morality in the absence of the creature who is expected to be the possessor of this morality - that is, the human being. Further, the makeup of the human being as a fundamentally moral creature has sometimes been advanced by the religious as evidence of a moral sensibility bestowed by God. If man can be shown to be able to live sustainably without having to hold on to an intrinsic moral order as a foundational belief, then these claims would be moot. If not, this claim is worth pondering. Why else should Man possess this moral attribute if it does not play some instrumental role in his functioning? In this paper, I will focus the discussion on the following three works. Introducing Connolly, Hobbes and Nolan William Connolly’s Voices From The Whirlwind and his intriguing reading of the biblical book of Job may seem sacrilegious to some, for he retorts by explaining morality as a sort of anthropomorphic coping mechanism, “[demanding] that the world be for us” in its projection of our desire for justice onto a God who keeps accounts, rewards and punishes (206). This in itself does not respond to whether Man can actually live without an intrinsic moral order, but Connolly goes on to suggest a more enlightened ethical sensibility expressing “reverence for the beauty and energy of life”, invoking an almost religious sentiment which seeks to distinguish it from the shackles of an intrinsic moral order, yet calls into question whether this seeming religiosity does not itself conceal a subtle reference to some form of intrinsic morality, for it is hard to express reverence without simultaneously attributing some morally good tenor to the object of reverence (209). Thomas Hobbes further problematises the question of how Man can live in the absence of an intrinsic moral order, by suggesting that this is only attainable by setting the wildness of nature upon itself, setting people up against a Sovereign who wields absolute, impartial power to mete out legal justice and ensure the security, and hence, progress of society. Both begin from the same base, assuming nature to be wild and amoral, yet advocating vastly different ways of coping with it that warrant Connolly being stereotyped as an ‘anarchist’, or Hobbes being vilified for his perceived support of authoritarian regimes. Are Connolly’s and Hobbes’ suggestions viable, and why do they seem so similar, yet so different? The introduction of Christopher Nolan’s film, The Dark Knight, into this debate makes for exciting investigation, because the multidimensional nature of the film medium allows a convincing narrativising of the wild/amoral thesis in Connolly’s and Hobbes’ works, allowing us to explore the implications of this thesis in an anarchic setting where intrinsic moral order seems to be rejected, and most importantly for this paper, no lasting solution seems to be offered for the film is most concerned with how this thesis plays out through the seemingly epic struggle between the characters of Batman and the Joker. I will argue that a comparison of both texts in light of the film, suggests that the wild/amoral thesis, if taken to be the belief of society, is insufficient grounds for Man to live sustainably, or peacefully in society. The limits of the wildness thesis The wildness thesis, which is advanced by all three works, that nature is inherently wild and devoid of order, has severe implications which cast both Connolly’s and Hobbes’ ideas in doubt and presents a strong case against its acceptance by the common man. The word ‘wild’ compels conceptions of some untamed, unpredictable quality. Man is an animal with pools of uncertain “energy” and “[impulses]” flowing through, as Connolly says, and wildness is so fundamental and thoroughly descriptive of the entire system, such that “the earth is a fireball at its center” (“Voices “ 206, 207). Hobbes expounds on this wildness through the human condition, which is seen as being in a de facto state of war in the absence of government, where “every man [is] against every man”, there is no assurance of peace, and hence, no productive, human society (83). Nolan’s Joker character is bent on exposing the wildness inherent to nature. He contends that he is not a schemer “trying to control [his] little world”, mocking the apparently misplaced, anthropomorphic orientations of the rest of Gotham, almost suggesting that they are delusional megalomaniacs intent on controlling an inherently uncontrollable world. The Joker seems to suggest belief in a de facto state of war, too, where the otherwise civilised denizens of Gotham will destroy each other “when the chips are down”. Both Hobbes and Nolan have a dim view of the wildness thesis with respect to its viability in supporting human society, though Hobbes argues that this can be achieved through instituting a state like the Leviathan. In light of this, it seems uncertain how Connolly can afford to be optimistic about “[cultivating] reverence for the beauty and energy of life flowing through and around us” in the face of chaos and destruction (“Voices” 209). And whereas Hobbes’ exposition of his political philosophy, like a disinterested social scientist, seems to contain a profound understanding and knowledge of wildness to the point where it can be manipulated, Connolly and Nolan would disagree that this wildness is ‘knowable’ at all. For Connolly, Nature’s unknowability can be expressed as the sum of the multiplicity of actors in nature, multiplied by the chaotic “[energies]” and “[impulses]” flowing through each actor (“Voices” 205, 206). For the Joker, he does not even attempt to understand this wildness, for it is essentially ‘unknowable’, and he is content to be “a dog casing cars”, an agent of chaos without rhyme nor reason. Turning our eyes towards the Dark Knight, we see in the Joker an actor with a clear plan, a well-defined raison d’etre summarised in the words: “It’s about... sending a message. Everything burns!” He could be compared to the whirlwind in Connolly’s reading of the Book of Job, the personification of nature’s impersonality; Nature cannot be said to be cruel, it transcends moral categories, for Nature “neither cares nor knows”, “it just is”, and “we dance to its music”, paraphrasing Richard Dawkins, or the crocodile in the swamp which is impervious to moral categories when it looks at you as prey (Dawkins 133, “Voices” 205). The Joker is intend on exposing the tenuous order in Gotham as a farce, and bringing the turbulent state of war in Nature to light. Why does he, unlike Connolly and Hobbes, not call for some resolution to this crisis? Perhaps because he sees no resolution, perhaps even, he does not see it as a crisis - maybe there is nothing inherently ‘wrong’ about chaos and destruction; even the very words chaos and destruction have a pejorative quality which the Joker may argue as not having to be the case. After all, as Two-Face says, “[the] only morality in a cruel world is chance”. The Joker is telling us not to impute our own categories to order the world, when it is fundamentally wild and ‘un-orderable’. Here is where the Joker agrees most with Connolly on “the earth [being] a fireball at its center”, yet it is also where they depart most vehemently (“Voices” 207). In a wild world which cannot be understood and ordered, Connolly’s reverence for nature would strike the Joker as dishonest sentimentalism which is self-contradictory. The very concept of reverence demands a fundamental comprehensibility, a notion which subjects Nature to some form of ordering, which reduces the claim that “the earth is a fireball at its center” (“Voices” 207). Even if such a reverence may be established, how could human society continue meaningfully if it holds the wildness thesis to be true, and that whatever is produced might be swept away at any instant because of Nature’s contingency? The fiery destruction of Gotham by the Joker, or the Whirlwind, suggests that this is not possible, because a city which believes in this thesis wholeheartedly would itself degenerate into chaos because of this profound uncertainty, in which the destruction unleashed by the Joker is expected to be the norm. The Joker also calls into question the almost scientific certainty with which Hobbes makes his pronouncements of in the Leviathan on the ability of Man to regulate Nature. The Joker’s sardonic comment that “madness, as you know, is like gravity: all it takes is a little push!” expresses contempt for the attempt to constrain the state of war. The Joker himself demonstrates the ease at which he institutes profound disorder in Gotham with just “a few drums of gas and a couple of bullets”. While Hobbesian theorists may counter that Gotham was never ruled by a Sovereign, since it was unable to restrain the Mob, or the Joker, in the first place, the pertinent question raised by the Dark Knight is whether the Leviathan state, as an ideal, is realisable. On a deeper level, the Joker succeeded not by being able to escape the law enforcement agencies of the state. His success was not dependent on the effectiveness of the police, as he perceptively taunts Batman, “You have nothing! Nothing to threaten me with, nothing to do with all your strength!” He succeeded, because he injected anarchy into a system which transcended people’s conventional notions of reality, or in the Joker’s words, the “plan”. The denizens of Gotham may not have liked the Mob, but they could understand the Mob’s existence as gangsters looking to cheat the people for personal gain. However, they could not understand, and were horrified by the Joker, because he did not seem to go according to the “plan”. He perpetuated evil for evil’s sake, or more accurately, wildness for wildness’ sake, defying notions of an intrinsic moral order which even the Mob, which always did things for reasons perceived to be ‘good’ in their eyes, seemed to accept tacitly. Thus, the Joker’s genius lay in demonstrating that true anarchy was not what they had seen in the hands of the Mob, but an unstoppable, unimaginably perverse wildness, which did not take heed of man’s “provincial demands”, and did not even regard itself as perverse - for it just ‘is’ (“Voices” 205). This is not some spoofed, domesticated wildness which can be understood or appreciated, it is wildness on a cosmic scale, where “the entire horizon is wiped away”, as Nietzsche expresses poetically in The Madman (qtd in Magnus 12). The Joker makes a compelling argument that there is no Sovereign which can whip a profoundly wild world into submission, and the “multiple lines of intersection” in nature “often produce unexpected effects”, in Connolly’s words (“Voices” 205). From this vantage point, even Hobbes and Connolly are like the Mob, the police and Gordon, “schemers” with plans on how the world should be reshaped. Both present ways of coping with wildness which forget that if nature is wild, it cannot be reined in, and thus, whatever “protean vitality of being” is a mere sentimentalising of an undefinable reality (205). The wildness thesis is self-limiting, because it limits the outcome of any attempt at resolution by its inherent wildness, a difficult case indeed for society to continue with its normal functions. The limits of the amoral thesis The preceding discussion on the wildness thesis has laid the groundwork for the ensuing discussion on the limits of the amoral thesis; an obvious implication of the wildness thesis is that Nature is amoral, since it does not order the world according to morally understandable grounds. In other words, Nature’s wildness implies that we cannot be expected to be rewarded or punished according to our ideas of morality. Not only does this apply to the specific area of morality, but to all manner of theories and ideals, which are subverted by the wildness thesis; since Nature is wild, there can be nothing of universal significance, no ideals over and above the material world. Connolly and Hobbes strive to construct worlds where human society may flourish in the absence of, and in Connolly’s case, because of the lack of an intrinsic moral order. Connolly portrays the chaos and indistinguishability of the Whirlwind as representing the insufficiency of morality, as a category of meaning, in portraying the world in all its “uncanniness and contingency” (“Voices” 207). He advocates an ethical sensibility which does not abjudicate human actions and events in terms of Good and Evil, but strives to cultivate what seems like an almost religious sentiment of “reverence” for the “diverse energies and strange vitalities” in Nature, whilst holding on to the idea of responsibility, as Connolly makes it clear that he is not for a world where “anything goes” (“Voices” 205, “Augustinian Imperative” 132). Yet, how can something amoral simultaneous invoke such religious sentiments, and how tenable is it to “pry a gap between ‘morality’ and ‘ethics’” (“Voices” 207)? In contrast, Hobbes agrees with advocates of intrinsic moral order on the need for an imperative of sorts to regulate human behaviour, but he rejects the idea, or at least, the relevance of intrinsic moral order to human society because of his conviction of the nature of his state of war. By his emphatic declaration that the “notions of Right and Wrong, Justice and Injustice” do not exist as meaningful categories in the state of war, he is, however, making clear that what he refers to later as Right in the Leviathan refers to a legal, rather than moral imperative (84). Does Hobbes’ legal imperative trump Connolly’s seemingly ‘soft’ ethical sensibility in allowing for sustainable human society? While the Joker makes no attempt to construct an ethical sensibility or an imperative, he makes critical pronouncements on what he views as the amoral nature of the world. In claiming to be “a dog chasing cars”, he disavows himself of all responsibility for his ‘plans’. His intention is not the ‘evil’ killing of Rachel Dawes, but the unleashing of chaos, by which Dawes was mere collateral damage. In fact, the idea of responsibility has no currency with the Joker, since responsibility entails a certain moral obligation, which the Joker does not subscribe to. Indeed, he considers himself to be the bearer of the unpalatable truth to a duplicitous society he despises: “Their morals, their code... it’s a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. They’re only as good as the world allows them to be”. How do Connolly’s and Hobbes’ competing visions fare in the turmoil of the Dark Knight? Two-Face is prescient when he says, “[the] only morality in a cruel world is chance”. In a world devoid of order and morality, there exists no means by which to judge the preferability of an option. In other words, an amoral world which beggars no categories of Good and Evil can only remain consistent with its assumption of amorality if it makes decisions based on chance. Connolly’s ethical sensibility seems here to be self-contradictory, because it begs the question of how an ‘ethical’ value, or decision, may be rationalised as being preferable over other options without having to refer to some moral Good. Hobbes anticipates this question by advocating the law of self-preservation, which governs all human beings, and from which humans as rational actors may derive a system of justice. Even if Connolly suggests a form of utilitarian ethics, the question remains how he decides on the goal of such a utilitarian system, given that in an amoral word, the only morality is “chance” (Dark Knight). In hinting at the need for “reverence” of Nature, Connolly is perhaps also invoking a certain transcendent quality characterising this sentiment. Such reverence points to a sentiment of sublimity when confronted with the infinitude of nature, suggesting a certain timeless, spiritual quality which contradicts the materialism of the amoral thesis. In addition, I argue that this feeling of reverence can only be apprehended when it is perceived to be something of fundamental moral goodness. For, as the Dark Knight informs us, a person like Dent could not conceivably cultivate a feeling of reverence for Nature when Dawes was killed. For if Nature was perceived as cruel, the more appropriate response would be terror. Of course, the amoral thesis would disallow the very moralising of Nature as cruel in the first place, but how else may Nature be revered if itself is not moralised? The very word ‘revere’ is not a valueless term, but one suggesting a mythologising of sorts, perhaps into an abstract moral Good, which may not conform to human notions of morality, but to an inscrutable system of justice, an alternative interpretation of the book of Job which Connolly does acknowledge. In fact, while Dent, in his incarnation as Two-Face, claims to be an amoral agent, like the Joker, his bitterness and lingering grievances against the mobster Maroni and Gordon give him away. Dent is a prototype of post-modern dissonance: willing to accept amorality as an undeniable principle, yet unwilling to reject the moral judgements which characterises his assessment of reality. He is still attempting to assign moral responsibility, when he says to Maroni, “The Joker’s just a mad dog. I want whoever let him off the leash”. This is truly revealing in its suggestion that human beings are unable to throw off notions of intrinsic moral order from informing them, even if they have rejected it in principle. Even if they are able to, how can one continue to assign responsibility, as Connolly suggests? It is difficult to conceive of responsibility without its moral connotations, for then a murderer like the Joker could only be said to have ‘caused’ the death of the murdered, yet it would be hard to find grounds to punish him if the amoral thesis is held. Even Two-Face seems to acknowledge this, refusing to blame the Joker, who was just “a dog chasing cars”, yet irrationally attempting to assign blame to other actors, who could equally be conceived as “[dogs] cashing cars”, for the human animal himself “contains pools of ‘energy’ and ‘impulse’”, and is essentially wild. Increasingly, Connolly’s ethical sensibility seems suspect and self-contradictory. Turning to Hobbes, whose legal imperative intuitively appears to make good sense, we are once again struck by the Joker’s comment, “Their morals, their code... it’s a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. They’re only as good as the world allows them to be”. Legal imperatives may compel obedience, but this breaks down in times of distress, and holds no morally obligatory power over those who wilfully choose to break the law. In other words, it is not normative. A normative morality is one which expresses that moral propositions are “binding”, “oblige men to undertake a certain line of conduct”, are “imperative or prescriptive”, demand “not only intellectual assent but also respect and obedience” and “compliance regardless of personal tastes” (Moore 237). It is powerful, for the “idea of a normative proposition is not just the idea of a proposition which truly states an obligation; it is the idea of a proposition which actually obliges anyone who accepts it” (Moore 238). The subject in Hobbes Leviathan might be legally obliged to obey the Sovereign, but he will never feel morally obliged to do so. This attitudinal, even emotional, compulsion demanded by a normative morality, or intrinsic moral order, retains its legitimacy even during times of distress, and provides a rationale, grounded in human nature, which discourages people from breaking the moral law. This aspect of human nature I am referring to is Man being an idealistic, meaning-seeking creature, who seeks significance by aspiring and working towards ideals. The inability of Two-Face to think in terms of the “is”, rather than the “should”, illustrates the fundamental quality which normativity, or this aspiring towards ideals, has in the human psyche. Similarly, the adamance of Batman in protecting the abstract idea of the moral Good, in the face of the Joker’s seeming triumph, and his insistence on refusing to break his one rule of not killing others, even if it was the Joker, highlights this point. How, then, do we understand the Joker, as a human being who does not appear to strive for any normative values? We could either view him as a Durcheinanderwerfer, a “container identity infested by an evil source”, or concede the possibility of exceptions like him occurring, exceptions condemned to destroy themselves, as “dogs chasing cars” (Dittmer 50, Dark Knight). The discussion on the limits of a legal imperative is also applicable in criticising Connolly’s ethical sensibility as problematic, as it does not provide people with a moral imperative which obligates them. A moral imperative, by definition, is universal. Hence, it purports to be transcendent, in that it provides a coherent system, above Nature, to understand Nature. This transcendence is the source of its legitimacy, whether it refers to an abstract, impersonal Good, or a personal God. In other words, Man, as a meaning-seeking creature finds the significance of the moral imperative in its very transcendence. Connolly finds this absurd, because it results in “existential bitterness” when life does not seem to function according to the ‘plan’ (“Voices” 207). However, this very idea of transcendence, as has been suggested earlier, is indirectly invoked by his notion of reverence for Nature, which once again suggests that Connolly’s reverent response to Nature and its attendant suggestion of religious feeling contradicts the amoral thesis. In addition, “existential bitterness” need not be the case, for Connolly has a narrowly defined, simplistic view of intrinsic moral order which avoids other interpretations, such as the complex, or inscrutable moral order alternative mentioned earlier (“Voices” 207). Also, scapegoats need not be found, for abstract moral Evil, or the Devil, could be blamed in situations of tragedy. Hobbes understands the importance of a legitimate, absolute authority in ensuring sustainable human society. However, this fails because the authority is not established ‘above Nature’, but ‘within Nature’, by the assent of mortal, finite Man who cannot guarantee the transcendental legitimacy of the Sovereign. Yet, as we turn to the Dark Knight once again to survey the idea of a transcendent, we find it in the recurring repetition of the concept of the White Knight. None of the characters, not even Batman and the Joker, qualify as possessing transcendental qualities by virtue of being human. However, Harvey Dent, mythologised as the White Knight takes on a larger-than-life form in the eyes of the denizens of Gotham, as embodied moral Good. Because their faith in a transcendent, moral Good becomes intertwined with the personality of Dent, Batman recognises that the people’s faith in Dent, and hence, transcendent moral Good, needs to be preserved by preserving Dent’s image as Gotham’s “true hero”. Otherwise, the Joker would win and society would fall apart in disillusionment. This is both an acknowledgement of the importance of transcendence in preserving society, as much as an acknowledgement that transcendence is a risky concept when associated with an individual, who is fallible and not transcendent. The Dark Knight suggests that Connolly’s and Hobbes’ resolutions to the amoral thesis are limited, and self-contradictory, by disallowing the presence of categories by which to evaluate an ethics divorced from morality. The absence of moral categories seems to be increasingly untenable, in the light of the normative and transcendental character of these categories, which I have argued is important for the sustainable function of human society. Conclusion The question “Can Man live without intrinsic moral order”, might just as well be termed, “Can Man live without God?”, leaving the nature of this God ambiguous. I have strived throughout this essay to argue that the answer to this question is in the negative. Specifically, that a comparison of Connolly’s and Hobbes’ texts in light of the Dark Knight demonstrates that this is a highly questionable proposition, in view of the limitations and self-contradictory nature of the wildness/amoral thesis. The very nature of the wildness thesis suggests that human society is quite impossible,while the amoral thesis seems unlikely to support human society from sustaining meaningfully without degenerating into chaos. Undoubtably, this does not directly address the question of which is the ‘correct’ moral vision in terms of objective truth, assuming there is one. However, I believe my discussion does have several points to contribute to this debate, which many may regard as more fundamental. First, after discussing the terrifying extent of nature’s wildness, accepting this thesis to be true, is it not self-contradictory to state a universal proposition that nature is wild, then argue that because nature is wild, there can be no universal propositions? Second, human society has existed, and continues to exist on earth rather sustainably. Perhaps this could be attributed to the general adherence of most people to the idea of an intrinsic moral order, which I have argued in this paper to be of paramount importance, even if it is a delusional commitment. Still, if Nature is truly ‘wild at heart’, would it not have ‘disallowed’ such a consistent pattern of sustainable human society over millennia? Would not a Whirlwind, or a Joker, have emerged to shake the notions of intrinsic moral order to its foundations? Third, if these categories of morality are truly a priori, or fundamental to human nature as I have argued, and Nature is wild, how could a Nature as wild as we have explored have created something as orderly and polarising as a moral sensibility? Turning to the central focus of the paper, my argument that Man cannot live without the belief in an intrinsic moral order, if taken to be true, is probably a nightmarish proposition to those who claim not to believe in it. In a world where the idea of absolute truth has lost traction, the very suggestion that Man cannot live without intrinsic moral order should trigger a critical re-evaluation of their position on these issues of morality and transcendence, which I suspect is held by many not purely for intellectual, but self-serving reasons as well. Such an evaluation should also encourage a greater reflection on human nature, including the universal sentiment of reverence, which Connolly espouses, when confronted with the sublime, and the rationale for it. Nietzsche was prophetic in foreseeing the hopelessness of nihilism, but I disagree with him that the übermensch, one who creates his own morality in a meaningless world, is its resolution. I might even suggest that this is a form of sentimentalism, a vacuous attempt to find significance for meaning-seeking Man. Borrowing Connolly’s words, is it not “anthropomorphic” to think that individuals have the license to create meaning in a meaningless world? Would it truly be ‘meaningful’? I have argued that the dissonance we see in the world today is symptomatic of the inability of Man to truly relinquish belief in an intrinsic moral order. Is this anthropomorphic? Does it result in a repressive society? Perhaps. But I would argue, not necessarily. An inscrutable moral order which cannot be understood simplistically allows enough ground for a transcendent-focused, or God-focused view of reality which is not anthropomorphic, where the desire to interpret transcendent justice is tampered by the knowledge of divine inscrutability. Such a view is present in various religious traditions, such as the Christian tradition which mysteriously combines divine wrath, regarding Man as entirely depraved, with divine sacrifice and grace towards Man. It would be difficult for Man to live without an intrinsic moral order, even if he tried. In Nietzschean terminology, if God is dead, then ‘anything goes’, as much as Connolly denies it, for only materialism and the law of self-preservation remains, and “all it takes [to descend into madness] is a little push!” (Dark Knight). Works Cited Connolly, William E.. “Voices from the Whirlwind.” In the Nature of Things: Language, Politics, and the Environment. Ed. Jane Bennett and William Chaloupka. Minnesota: University of Minnesota Press, 1993. 197-225. Print. Connolly, William E.. The Augustinian Imperative: A Reflection on the Politics of Morality. Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2002. Print. The Dark Knight. Dir. Christopher Nolan. Perf. Christian Bale, Heath Ledger, Aaron Eckhart. Warner Bros, 2008. Film. Dittmer, Lars. New Evil - The Joker in “The Dark Knight” as a Prototype of the Post-September 11-Vilain. MA Thesis. Universität Potsdam, Potsdam, 2009. Print. Hobbes, Thomas. Leviathan. London: Andrew Cooke, 1651. Print. Hollingdale, R.J.. Nietzsche: The Man and His Philosophy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999. Print. Magnus, Bernd. Nietzsche’s Existential Imperative. Ontario: Fitzhenry & Whiteside Limited, 1978. Print. Moore, Asher. “A Categorical Imperative?” Ethics 63.4 (1953): 235-250. Print. 24