An Argument for Doubt

I previously published an article in the “Harvard Independent” on the subject of faith and our need for it, of any kind, in these trying times we live in. However, I neglected to say fully that faith is not enough. It is my firm belief that as much as one believes, not only when it comes to politics, as I previously related, but in the practice of faith itself. Even Jesus doubted at the end, to borrow a line, again from Cardinal Lawrence, in the 2024 political thriller “Conclave”: “Dio mio, Dio mio, perché mi hai abbandonato?” / “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Most Christians disagree with this interpretation of Jesus’s cry to the heavens on the cross; nevertheless, it is a fascinating understanding of his last words, though even the topic of his actual last words is one of feverish debate. It raises the question: if even the Son of God doubted, who are we to be so sure of our faith?

An unshakeable faith, whilst impressive, is a mystery, a weapon in the hands of some, and concurrently a beacon of hope in the hands of others. For that reason, I argue against it and put forward the case for doubt.

Generally speaking, we are, across the major faiths, taught not to doubt the will of God, for our minds cannot comprehend what our Gods have in store for us. However, I do believe this to be a fault of religion because if we do not doubt, then faith becomes nothing more than obedience.

In the Season 6 finale of “Game of Thrones,” in a scene reminiscent of the sacrifice of Iphigenia, Shireen Baratheon, daughter of Stannis, is burned alive in service of a higher cause. A line, in reaction to her death, has stuck with me in the years since I watched the show. When the action of the sacrifice is defended by the religious priestess Melisandre as being permissible because her Lord commanded it, he replies, “If He commands you to burn children, your Lord is evil!”

The cycle of atrocities carried out over history as a result of religious obedience reveals a tragic pattern. When convictions of any kind become unshakeable, our ability to question our actions diminishes. Faith itself does not breed violence, but when questions stop being asked, danger arises. There are too many examples to name, but what I find central to all is that violence was not perpetrated by the most faithful but by the most certain. When “God willed it” becomes the go-to answer, we are in dangerous territory for potential “its.” As we know all too well, it is ordinary people who, more often than not, think they are doing the right thing and yet commit horrific acts because they stopped asking questions.

Every child buried, every hostage taken, and every family devastated is the direct victim of certainty. I often quote another line from “Conclave,” which precedes the first quote I referenced. Cardinal Lawrence says: “Certainty is the great enemy of unity.” In this case, it goes so much further than unity; certainty is the great enemy of the innocent. It is the great enemy of the child who never knows their first breath before it is taken from them or the mother who knows not whether she will ever see her child again. Rarely do atrocities come from those who are uncertain.

I wonder how many lives would have been saved with a little bit of doubt. We must ask ourselves: What if I was wrong? History will not look kindly on leaders who deny what the naked eye can see in the same way it will not look kindly on leaders who praise the horrific violence committed by their followers. To question one’s decisions in matters as grave as these should not be treated as a betrayal of conviction but as the development of a conscience.

If faith demands that we never question, then it stops being an exercise in the search for truth and becomes a demand for obedience. From the sacrifice of Iphigenia to the wars that have raged over the thousands of years since, we have seen the price of humanity choosing obedience over compassion for its fellow man.

Faith without doubt is certainty, and certainty breeds obedience; obedience has so often led to the darkest periods in our history. Doubt is not the enemy of faith, but its greatest protection. If doubt makes us sit with suffering and re-evaluate our decisions, then we must doubt rather than be blind and pray to God for forgiveness for our lack of vision. So we must doubt for the sake of all the innocent civilians who pay the price for someone else’s certainty. For their sake and our own, we should ask ourselves the questions our history textbooks so often neglect: What if I am wrong?

Noah Basden ’29 (nhbasden@college.harvard.edu) doubts his ability to get his readings done this week.