What else does this craving, and this helplessness, proclaim but that there was once in man a true happiness, of which all that now remains is the empty print and trace? This he tries in vain to fill with everything around him, seeking in things that are not there the help he cannot find in those that are, though none can help, since this infinite abyss can be filled only with an infinite and immutable object; in other words by God himself.” – Blaise Pascal, Pensées no. 425 

Contrary to popular belief, the 17th century French mathematician and philosopher Blaise Pascal did not coin the phrase “God-shaped hole,” at least not in so many words. The quotation above, drawn from his fragmentary work Pensées, is the closest he comes to doing so. Arguably, though, the “God-shaped hole” of the vernacular and Pascal’s “infinite abyss” express the same idea. 

In a previous paragraph, Pascal declares that “all men seek happiness,” even “those who hang themselves.” They employ a bewildering variety of means to achieve happiness (including, apparently, cabbages – go read it yourself), but “without faith,” these are all doomed to failure. Only an infinite object, after all, can fill an infinite abyss. 

But is Pascal right? Are people in general desperately and unsuccessfully trying to fill some insatiable existential need with war and wealth and cabbages? I’d say the evidence is pretty mixed. You find some folks who match Pascal’s description perfectly (including Pascal himself), but others – including many secular people – who seem pretty darn happy and well-adjusted. And if, as I think likely, Pascal were to specify that what he meant by “true happiness” was “perfect and eternal happiness” – well, why think that such a thing is even possible? 

In fact, we could go further and deny that any theologizing / metaphysical speculation (much less the full-blown Augustinian Catholic belief that Pascal advocated) is unnecessary to be reasonably happy. To that end, we can easily imagine a secular person saying something like, “I really don’t need any kind of religious belief or metaphysical theory to lead a fulfilling life.” She is neither an atheist nor even properly an agnostic, but someone who just doesn’t care. And there is no reason to suppose that the person is lying. 

(Of course, we might want to elaborate a little bit on what “fulfilling life” means, as it seems possible to be “fulfilled” in the sense of “satisfied” while engaged in all manner of nastiness. Our imaginary secular friend, however, is in fact really nice. So, she clarifies, “I don’t need any kind of religious belief or metaphysical theory to be reasonably satisfied, where my satisfaction comes from pursuing interesting personal projects, enjoying rich and meaningful relationships, and helping out other people.”) 

Again, she can say all this without a trace of dishonesty. But here’s the problem: making this claim requires one to also (unwittingly) make a metaphysical/religious/theological assumption, at least as soon as one becomes aware of the existence of certain metaphysical/religious/theological claims. 

Here’s what I mean. Christianity, for instance, declares that human fulfillment contains an objective as well as a subjective aspect. This is stated elegantly and famously by the Westminster Shorter Catechism: “The chief end of man is to glorify God and to enjoy him forever.” The rest of the Christian tradition makes it clear that faith is necessary for both of these things (see Hebrews 11:6).

Confronted with this claim, our imaginary secular friend could certainly just shrug and go on with her reasonably satisfying life. But it seems to me that this apparent indifference is actually a tacit denial of the Christian doctrine, or at least an assignment of low probability. If she really considered it a live possibility that infinite and eternal happiness is available through a relationship with God, and that she is currently on a trajectory to miss out on that, then I’d imagine she would suddenly be much less satisfied with her life until she had resolved that issue one way or another. 

Without realizing it, our friend assumes something like, “It is highly unlikely that there is a divine/transcendent/metaphysical reality, at least not one that requires my faith in order to live a fulfilling life.” But that looks an awful lot like a theological or metaphysical statement. 

Weirdly, the act of uttering or even thinking a statement like, “I do not need a metaphysical theory in order to lead a fulfilling life” makes it untrue, because in order to be true it requires (at least) the tacit metaphysical theory that metaphysical theories don’t really matter. 

In any case, Kant was only partially right when he wrote, “For it is pointless to affect indifference with respect to such inquiries [e.g., metaphysical speculation], to whose object human nature cannot be indifferent.” In reality, you can be indifferent to that inquiry – but you still can’t get out of it.