Returning The Ticket
“Rebellion” — Dostoevsky’s version of “The Problem of Evil”
“Rebellion” (or Mutiny) is one of the most popular and fascinating chapters in The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky. To me, this chapter feels like Dostoevsky’s version of “The Problem of Evil”, not through abstract theological debate, but through the suffering of children. That’s why this chapter hit me so deeply. Since reading it, I’ve found it difficult to look at suffering the same way.
In discussions surrounding The Problem of Evil, it is often argued that as long as evil exists (producing suffering, injustice, and misery) then it is impossible for a being to be both all-powerful and all-loving at the same time. If such a being is all-powerful yet still allows evil to exist, then it cannot be all-loving. And vice versa.
“The problem of evil in the world. The problem of absolute virtue. The problem of you on top of everything else. You above all. Ah. ’Cause that’s what God is. Horus. Apollo. Jehovah. Kal-El. Clark Joseph Kent. See, what we call God depends upon our tribe, Clark Jo, because God is tribal. God take sides. No man in the sky intervened when I was a boy to deliver me from Daddy’s fist and abominations. Mm-mm. I’ve figured it out way back, if God is all powerful, He cannot be all good. And if He’s all good then He cannot be all powerful.”
— Lex Luthor
In this chapter, Dostoevsky — through Ivan Karamazov, an intellectual rationalist speaking to his deeply religious younger brother who is also a monk, Alyosha Karamazov — does not literally discuss omnipotence, divine goodness, or evil as abstract concepts. Instead, Ivan explains them through the presence of suffering in this world, especially the suffering of children. And this is where his rebellion against the world begins.
What disturbs me most about Ivan’s argument is that he is not really rejecting God. He is rejecting a world that requires suffering in order to function. Ivan rejects the idea that suffering must exist for “Harmony” to be achieved (the belief that all suffering will eventually be justified in the end, through salvation or cosmic reconciliation).
“I do not want harmony, out of a love for mankind I do not want it. I want rather to be left with sufferings that are unavenged. Let me remain with my unavenged suffering and unassuaged indignation, even though I am not right. And in any case, harmony has been overestimated in value, we really don’t have the money to pay so much to get in. And so I hasten to return my entry ticket. And if I am at all an honest man, I am obliged to return it as soon as possible. That is what I am doing. It isn’t God I don’t accept, Alyosha, it’s just his ticket that I most respectfully return to him.”
— Ivan Karamazov
Why must children suffer so God can prove that He can punish sinners in Hell?
Why must children suffer so God can prove that He can forgive humanity?
Why must children suffer simply for the world to unfold according to His divine plan?
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For Ivan, life and all the happiness within it are simply not worth it, if even a single child must suffer in exchange for it.
“Tell me yourself directly, I challenge you — reply: imagine that you yourself are erecting the edifice of human fortune with the goal of, at the finale, making people happy, of at last giving them peace and quiet, but in order to do it, it would be necessary and unavoidable to torture only one tiny little creature, that same little child that beat its breast with its little fist, and on its unavenged tears to found that edifice, would you agree to be the architect on those conditions, tell me and tell me truly.” — Ivan Karamazov
“No, I would not agree.” — Alyosha Karamazov
Out of all forms of suffering, Ivan deliberately chooses the suffering of children because every possible theodicy collapses there. The suffering of adults (while still difficult to justify) can at least be explained through sin, free will, or moral consequence.
But children? They have not even “entered the game” of the world’s moral system yet. Their suffering feels purely absurd and cruel. Ivan wants Alyosha to realize that no future harmony could ever repay the tears of a single innocent child.
Suffering does not end with what we experience directly. Suffering also comes from seeing, hearing, and knowing the suffering of others. Human consciousness itself can become a source of pain. We can suffer simply because we know that others suffer.
Knowing that somewhere in the world, a child becomes a victim of war… is also suffering.
Knowing that somewhere in the world, a child is raped by their own teacher… is also suffering.
Knowing that somewhere in the world, a child dies from something as small as ill-fitting shoes… is also suffering.
Knowing that somewhere in the world, a child takes their own life because they cannot afford books… that too is suffering.
The price of cosmic harmony feels far too high if it must be paid with even a single tear of an innocent child. If harmony itself is built upon the suffering of innocent children, then is such harmony even worth accepting?
“He knows everything.”
“He has a greater plan.”
“We are too limited to understand His plan.”
Even if all of those explanations are true, would they truly be enough to justify it? By what means will you redeem them? Is it even possible? Will you really do it by avenging them? But what use is vengeance to me, what use to me is hell for torturers, and what is the good in knowing criminals end up in hell when the children already suffered at their hands?
Arguments like these feel disturbingly similar to utilitarian logic: small suffering is considered necessary for a greater good. The problem is, if this were done by humans (with all our limitations and the evil that exists within us) we could at least somewhat understand why such choices happen.
But God? With absolute power, limitless capability, and perfect love, why would He also need to operate within the same logic?
It almost feels as if even God Himself is trapped within a cosmic Trolley Problem — sacrificing a smaller suffering for a greater harmony. But shouldn’t omnipotence mean never having to choose between the two in the first place?
