Does God Suffer "Innovator's Dilemma"?
On Theology and Disruption
Of course, the perfect, unchanging, eternal God of Plato suffers nothing, since suffering is a form of passivity.
Aristotle’s God is pure reflexivity—“thought thinking itself”—which manifests as “the prime mover.”
Medieval Aristotelian theology posits that God is causa sui, a God that causes Godself to exist. There is no dilemma in that. The original innovation, be it the creation of the world, or even the auto-creation of God is the “gift that keeps on giving.” There’s no way to disrupt such a God. God is operationally defined as a “defensible monopoly.”
Nietzsche’s plaint against theology (as noted by Franz Rosenzweig) is not that God doesn’t exist, but that “if God exists, how can I bear not to be God?”
It’s also somewhat blasphemous—from a monotheist point of view—to compare God to a company that implicitly competes with other gods. Then, again, we might think of monotheism, culturally speaking, as an innovative technology that disrupted paganism, and that is itself in danger of being disrupted by secularism, scientism, atheism, or some other new “ism.”
The history of religion, our conception of God, and our worship of God, can be told as a story of the innovator’s dilemma.
The innovator’s dilemma states that legacy firms fail because they are incapable of adapting to new disruptive technologies.
Animal sacrifice disrupted human sacrifice. Prayer without animal sacrifice disrupted priestly cults. DIY spirituality by way of consulting one’s own conscience disrupted traditional religious authority. What started as one pious monk’s revolt against the Catholic Church has culminated in an existentialist culture in which religion is a consumer good.
Embodiment-focused traditions disrupt textual ones. The internet makes sprawling libraries and photographic memories seem quaint.
Do theologians also suffer innovator’s dilemma? Does a Deuteronomic theology of quid pro quo get disrupted by a Jobian theology of “God’s ways are inscrutable”? Or, on the contrary, should we think of great religions as those that “pivot,” embracing new technology even when it feels awkward? Judaism wasn’t disrupted by the replacement of the Temple by rabbinic authority; it’s investment in “R and D” (the literary prophets) paid off when the Israelites were suddenly thrust into Exile.
One reason to reject the “innovator’s dilemma” frame when describing the evolution of religious traditions is the supersessionist bias it contains—the idea that what’s new is inherently better than or preferable to what came before.
Liberal religionists tend to adapt the frame of “innovator’s dilemma” because it allows them to see change as inevitable, if not desirable. Conservatives tend towards the Platonic model whereby God and religion are treated as unchanging pure forms, immune to cultural shaping.
We should note that language of the innovator’s dilemma places the emphasis on “staying in business” and “surviving” rather than “disclosing truth” or elevating the human condition.
Adaptability may be a necessary, but insufficient condition for the attainment of more substantive virtues, like goodness, truth, and beauty.
What does the language of innovator’s dilemma bring up for you when thinking about God and religion. Does the arrival of new technology inherently disrupt your faith? Should you adapt? Can you, even if you try?
What is Called Thinking? is a practice of asking a daily question on the belief that self-reflection brings awe, joy, and enrichment to one’s life. Consider becoming a subscriber to support this project and access subscriber-only content.
You can read my weekly Torah commentary here.