Sin is commonly understood to be an action. The Catechism of the Catholic Church, for example, views sins of action as ‘actual sin’ and original sin as sin only in an analogical sense. However, when considering sin as an action, we need not subscribe to such an exclusive position, and instead merely need to focus our attention.
When considering sin as an action, thinkers commonly distinguish between sins of commission and sins of omission (McCall 2019: ch. 5). Sins of commission are those sins that one commits; sins of omission of those acts that one fails to do and ought to have done. Typically, sins of omission were within one’s reasonable powers to accomplish, and one failed to commit the appropriate act when relevant (it is another question of whether some omissions can be subtle types of commissions). For a discussion on negligent omissions and responsibility, see Barnwell 2010.
When we look at sins of commission, there is a further division between intentional and unintentional acts (sometimes called ‘voluntary’ and ‘involuntary’ acts). Both acts are ones that an agent can be aware of and control, though intentional acts are those acts that an agent aims to commit under a certain description. Debates surround the question of whether individuals are (as) responsible for unintentional acts as they are for intentional acts. Robert M. Adams (1985), for example, claims that we should take responsibility for involuntary acts, though the response (such as praise, blame, or punishment) might differ for these types of actions than for intentional sins. (For similar views, cf. Wainwright 1988; Plantinga 1995: ch. 1.)
Finally, and similar to the distinction between intentional and unintentional sinful acts, some thinkers distinguish between subjective and objective sin. Examples include Richard Swinburne (1989: 124) and Cornelius Plantinga (1995: 20–21). In this view, an action is subjectively sinful to the degree that the individual perceives their act as sinful. An action is objectively sinful in cases where it is sinful without the individual needing to perceive it as such. For example, while it may not be objectively sinful to drink a glass of wine, it would nonetheless be sinful for the individual to have a glass of wine to the degree that they believe in good conscience it is sinful. Further, for example, individuals may be subjectively convinced that a certain killing is not sinful but required of them, such as a soldier following a command, though the killing might be objectively sinful. As these two examples illustrate, the subjective and objective sinfulness of an action (or lack thereof) need not correspond. Of course, an act may simultaneously be both subjectively and objectively sinful, though it need not be either or both. This final distinction is similar to the subjectivist and objectivist distinction in meta-ethics, and as a result, requires a normative commitment to the view that some acts may be sinful for individuals in a subjective sense.
2.1 Primal sin
The primal sin refers to the very first sin. Depending on the focus of the discussion, the primal sin may refer to either Adam and Eve’s first sin or the rebel angel’s first sin. Thinkers also refer to the first or lead rebel angel as Lucifer, Satan, or the Devil. Because historic discourse about the primal sin experiences its height in the medieval period, this section will avail itself of medieval thinkers.
The generic discourse of sinful acts typically involves discussion of how factors may lead an individual to sin. According to many in the tradition, an individual’s sin may be accounted for primarily in terms of the intellect or the will (McCluskey 2017).
Generally speaking in these discourses, the factors that may contribute to an individual sinning are either inherent, such as inherited concupiscence or ignorance from being a fallen human in the line of Adam (as per Augustine), personally acquired, such as an acquired vice of greed, or otherwise specific to the states of affairs present when one sins, such as an individual not having taken notice of a divine command or rendering themselves subject to the relevant passion. The question of whether individuals may commit clearheaded sin is a centre of dispute in the medieval period.
In contrast to generic discourse on sinful action, the primal sin offers a case study of why a good created agent might sin, an agent without any defect, lack, or other disturbing factor. The first angels were well equipped with the capacity of a will and intellect to obey and love God. The first angels, further, knew that they ought to love and obey God, and they did not have any ill-formed habits. In other words, the first angels had no inherited, acquired, or otherwise concurrent factor negatively influencing their decision. How is it, then, that the first angels fell? The primal sin is a case study of moral psychology, God’s causal activity, God’s providence, and divine and creaturely responsibility.
Following the work of William Wood (2016), the problem of the fall divides into two partially independent questions: the hard problem and the harder problem (see Hoffman 2012: 285 for a subtly different characterization). The hard problem of the fall is to provide a satisfactory account of how the angels’ sinful choice is both free and morally significant. If everything that God has made is good and without defect, how does evil enter the created order? Should an answer to the hard problem of the fall indicate that the angel’s choice to sin was not relevantly free, it would seem to indicate that God is responsible for causing some angels to fall and not others. This would be unsatisfactory to the degree that it makes God the author of the fall and the first sin(s). Should an answer to the hard problem fail to indicate that the choice to sin was morally significant, such an answer would not adequately explain the angels’ responsibility and the fall’s adverse and merited effects.
The harder problem of the fall is to provide a satisfactory answer to the question of how such a choice to sin is subjectively rational for the angel to commit. Supposing that one fully addresses how the Devil’s first sin was metaphysically possible, free, and morally significant, one still has not provided an account of why the Devil so chose. Further, one has not provided an answer to why only some angels fell. The harder problem of the fall is why a good agent without lack or defect would choose to disobey God. Should an answer to the harder problem of the fall fail to indicate that the sin was subjectively rational, then the first problem rears its head, for there would seem to be a defect in the initially created order.
Our discussion will focus on two historic figures, Anselm and Thomas Aquinas, to illustrate possible answers to the hard and harder problem of the fall. Anselm and Aquinas, for present purposes, may be thought of as respectively representing voluntarist and intellectualist positions. According to a voluntarist account of motivation and action, individual acts are explained primarily in terms of the will. According to an intellectualist account of motivation and action, the intellect and its reasons ultimately explain the agent’s action. For the primal sin, the sinfulness is explained primarily in terms of either the intellect or the will.
Anselm is generally regarded as a libertarian, and he provides a voluntarist understanding of why the first angels fell (for more on this discussion, cf. Visser and Williams 2009; Haratine 2024). Anselm maintains that God endows rational creatures with two motivational dispositions, dispositions in virtue of which the rational agent is freely able to commit specific acts: the disposition for happiness and the disposition for justice. In his famous dialogue, On the Fall of the Devil, Anselm maintains that rational creatures must have some motivational dispositions to initiate any specific and occurrent volitions. Otherwise, there would be a vicious regress of specific volitions, an agent always requiring one more previous volition to explain the occurrent volition. Moreover, a rational creature must have both motivational dispositions to will freely and in morally significant ways. If the angel only had a will for happiness, the angel would be compelled to will objects for the sake of happiness (mutatis mutandis for justice) (On the Fall of the Devil 12–14; Anselm of Canterbury 2007). By endowing rational creatures with two distinct motivational dispositions, Anselm secures the conclusion that the angel’s primal sin was free and, thus, that the responsibility was not traceable to God. When the student presses Anselm as to why only some angels fell and not others, Anselm responds that no cause preceded the will. It was also not because the angel could will, because others could, too. Rather, the will was its own efficient cause (On the Fall of the Devil 27; Anselm of Canterbury 2007). (For commentary on this passage, cf. Rogers 2008: 97.)
Anselm’s voluntarist account addresses the hard problem of the fall to the degree that it explains how the first angel’s sinful action is free and morally relevant. On this score, Anselm is fairly like Augustine (Augustine of Hippo 2010: III.17.48; 2004: XII.6; King 2012; MacDonald 1999). However, Anselm offers a welcome development to Augustine regarding the hard problem of the fall. Where Augustine maintains that God only gives some angels the gift of perseverance, Anselm maintains that God gives all the angels the gift of perseverance, though only some accept it. So, Augustine’s account seems to place some of the causal responsibility of the fall on God’s side; Anselm attempts to place this causal responsibility on the creature’s side.
Anselm’s account also attempts to explain the harder problem of the fall. Anselm takes great pains to show that the angels were aware of their responsibilities and that to sin would deserve punishment. However, since the angels knew that God is as just as he is merciful, they did not know whether they would be punished and fall for their disobedience (On the Fall of the Devil 21–24; Anselm of Canterbury 2007). In other words, there was no intellectual defect, such as a cognitive error or a nonconsideration of God’s command. For Anselm, this means that the angel wasn’t willing something in knowledge of its imminent demise, and in this sense, the action was subjectively rational.
Nevertheless, Anselm’s answer less clearly explains the harder problem of the fall to the degree that, as a voluntarist, the final explanation of the primal sin seems to be a brute volition. The choice seems mysterious to the degree that nothing aside from the volition exhaustively explains the volition, and nothing seems to explain why only some angels fell and others did not. (For more on Anselm’s view of choice, cf. Normore 1998.) Similar to contemporary sourcehood accounts of libertarianism, Anselm’s answer seems to bottom out in mystery. Nevertheless, Anselm offers a voluntarist solution to the primal sin since, insofar as the angel willed ‘something extra’ before God so willed it, the defect of the primal sin lies within the volition. (For a defence of Anselm’s account, see Wood 2016.)
Aquinas, in contrast, is an intellectualist and consequently maintains that the will follows the intellect’s judgement (this gloss follows Hoffman 2012; 2020: ch. 8). Should a rational creature act sinfully according to the intellectualist, the sin requires the presence of a cognitive error, an omission, or a nonconsideration. Aquinas famously thinks that the will always wills or desires what it perceives as good, sub ratione boni. So, if the will pursues something evil, it is not because it perceives it as evil, but as good; the intellect has committed some error, is ignorant, or does not consider something.
Accordingly, Aquinas maintains that the first sin of the angels was not due to error or ignorance. On the contrary, the angels had a perfect knowledge of God’s command and ordering for them. Rather, the angels failed to fully consider the rule governing them, and instead aspired to attain things on their own steam. Aquinas writes:
Evil consists both of the privation of form and the privation of due measure and order, as Augustine says in his work On the Nature of the Good. And so acts of the will have evil both from their object, which gives the acts their form because one wills evil, and from taking away the due measure or order of the acts themselves, as, for example, if one in the very course of willing good does not observe due measure and order. And such was the sin of the devils that made them evil. For they desired a suitable good, not an evil. But they desired it inordinately and immoderately, namely, in that they desired to acquire it by their own power and not by God’s grace, and this exceeded the due measure of their status [...]. [R]egarding sin, defect of intellect or reason and defect of will always accompany one another proportionally. And so we do not need to suppose that there was in the devils’ first sin such a defect of intellect and they judged falsely (e.g., that evil is good), but that they failed to comprehend the rule governing them and its ordination. (Aquinas 2003: 450)
According to Aquinas, the angels did not will something inherently bad, but willed some good object by their own means without fully considering their actions in light of God’s rule. They sinned because they willed the good object on their own, though they had been ordained to do so by God’s grace. This sin is not an error, in thinking that a bad object was good; and it was not in ignorance, not knowing they should rely on God’s grace. Rather, it is due to a nonconsideration of God’s rule.
Hoffman elaborates upon Aquinas’ claim that the good angels fell for lack of proper consideration of God’s rule:
Aquinas’s account of nonconsideration in angelic sin can be compared to people who damage a new technological device because they did not read the instruction manual. In the normal case, this happens not because they read the manual and intentionally disregard its instructions, nor because they are unaware of the existence of the manual, but rather because they feel confident that they can use the device without further instructions. (Hoffman 2020: 210)
How does Aquinas’ answer address the hard and harder problems of the fall? Regarding the hard problem of the fall, since the angels had full knowledge of God’s ordinance (the instruction manual), they were not ignorant. Further, they did not misunderstand God’s ordinance and err in their understanding. Rather, they failed to consider the ordinance adequately. The defect is therefore intellectual in nature, and the sinful choice is free and morally significant insofar as the angels ‘controlled how habitual knowledge becomes an occurrent practical judgment that is followed by the corresponding choice’ (Hoffman 2020: 211). This control originates from the will making the ‘intellect deliberate about whether to exercise its act’ (Hoffman 2020: 213).
Aquinas thus attempts to evade the intellectualist dilemma of the intellect necessitating the choice. In doing so, Aquinas attempts to break the causal chain that links back to God and thereby address the hard problem of the fall. Nevertheless, Aquinas invokes a voluntarist element and may not be a strict or pure intellectualist (Aquinas 2003: 168; Hoffman 2020: 213). To avoid regress about the will’s movement, Aquinas posits that God is the first mover of the will, which raises the question of how successfully he addresses the hard problem of the fall (ST I–II.9.6; Aquinas 1947).
To address the harder problem of the fall, Aquinas maintains that the volition is subjectively rational to the degree that the angel correctly regarded the good object as good and acted accordingly. However, Aquinas does not offer a contrastive explanation between the good and bad angels to explain why only some fell. Some did not fully consider God’s ordinance, and some did. Of those that didn’t, Aquinas only explains how these angels could act sinfully, not why some did. (For more on Aquinas’ view on sin, see McCluskey 2017.)
While the voluntarist position suffers from the question of intelligibility and mystery with the harder problem of the fall, the intellectualist position suffers from the question of determinism and placing causal responsibility on God’s side.
2.2 Adam and Eve
Contemporary and historic accounts of original sin posit that humanity originates from two historic individuals: Adam and Eve (Rea 2007; Couenhoven 2013: ch. 2; see Creation in the Old Testament). Some thinkers are open to the possibility that human beings originated from a historic community (e.g. Crisp 2019a). According to these traditional accounts, these individuals fell from grace by sinning early on and thus adversely affected their offspring (section 3).
William Lane Craig (2021: ch. 1) maintains that the historical Adam and Eve are theologically important for no fewer reasons than the doctrine of scriptural truthfulness and reliability and the doctrine of Christology. If the biblical text maintains and the authors mean to teach that there were two historic individuals, Adam and Eve, then a denial of these individuals would call into question the truthfulness of the text (cf. Paul in Rom 5). And if Christ himself believed in a historic Adam (cf. Matt 19:4–6), then a denial of Adam and Eve’s existence seems tantamount to claiming that God held a false belief.
Others deny the claim that there are two historic individuals from whom the remainder of humanity originates for scientific reasons. For example, Celia Deane-Drummond maintains that the story of Adam is a mythological account of God’s early creation of human beings, and is critical of the compatibility of traditional theological understandings with contemporary scientific findings (Deane-Drummond 2009). The deliverances of scientific disciplines seem to be – prima facie – jointly inconsistent with the claim that two historic individuals lived in a state of union and grace, though later fell and adversely affected humanity. Following Thomas McCall (2019), these deliverances are, first, there was death and predation before the fall. This is called the ‘red tooth thesis’. Second, humans share ancestry with other hominins – such as Neanderthals – and primates. This is called the ‘common ancestry thesis’. Third, and implied by the common ancestry thesis, that humans evolved as a sizable group. This is called the ‘large initial population thesis’.
Some contemporary thinkers who directly engage with the question of the fall and historical individuals in light of scientific concerns include S. Joshua Swamidass (2019); Daniel H. Spencer (2023); Daniel W. Houck (2020); and Gijsbert van den Brink (2020). There are at least three possible ways for the claim that there are two relatively recent historical individuals (or a community) who fell and from which the remainder of humanity originates to be jointly consistent with the above three scientific claims. Each of the following positions assumes that the above claims about human origins are true and does not dispute the red tooth thesis, the common ancestry thesis, or the large initial population thesis.
2.2.1 The refurbishment model
According to the refurbishment model, God could select two hominins (or perhaps a community of hominins) who participated in evolutionary development and refurbish them as the first human beings to uniquely bear God’s image. The refurbishment could have happened quite some time ago, or relatively recently. The refurbishment could involve God bestowing a soul upon these selected individuals, God’s raising the individuals to rationality and giving them the gift of free will (van Inwagen 2006: 84–86), or God’s uniquely addressing the individuals (van den Brink 2020: ch. 6). Once suitably refurbished, these human beings commit the primal sin and adversely affect the remainder of humanity. This model is compatible with the common ancestry thesis and the large initial population thesis because of God’s election of individuals from a pre-existing group; this is also compatible with the red tooth thesis because it does not posit that predation only happens after the fall. Other adherents to the refurbishment model include Andrew Ter Ern Loke (2022), James K. A. Smith (2017), and Hud Hudson (2014).
2.2.2 The hyper-Adam model
Hudson (2014) proposes that a literal reading of the Genesis account for the fall is false only if the hypertime hypothesis is false. A literal reading of Genesis would maintain that two historic individuals are the fount of humanity, that these individuals sin, are banished from an Edenic and paradisial garden around 8,000 years ago, and adversely affect their offspring. The hypertime hypothesis maintains that, possibly, Adam and Eve lived in a different hypertime and hyperspace that was not initially connected to the actual world’s growing block of space and time. After banishing Adam and Eve from the garden, God could have connected their block of hyperspace and time to the actual world’s growing block at the appropriate time. Thus, it is possible that Adam and Eve lived in a paradisial state free from harm and disease, and – due to their hypertime being inserted into or adjoined to our growing block of time around 8,000 years ago – suitably participate in the natural course of history as contemporary sciences tell the story. Since one cannot maintain with great certainty whether the hypertime hypothesis is false, one cannot maintain with great certainty that a literal reading of Genesis is false.
2.2.3 The genealogical-Adam model
The genealogical model distinguishes between genealogical and genetic ancestry. Genealogical ancestry identifies ‘the reproductive origin of people, matching the common use of ancestor, descendant, parent, and child’ (Swamidass 2019: 32, original emphasis). A genealogical ancestry, though the records may be selective and non-exhaustive, includes the entire reproductive history. In contrast, genetic ancestry consists of ‘the history of stretches of DNA in our genomes, using recently invented technology’ (Swamidass 2019: 33). Genetically, it may be the case that human beings share DNA in common with the great apes and that human beings arise as a population and never as a single couple. Geneologically, it may also be the case that two distinct individuals serve as all of humanity’s genealogical ancestors within recent history, perhaps as recently as 6,000 years ago, using conservative estimations (Swamidass 2019: 61–64).
Swamidass proposes the genealogical account as a way to understand the claim that humanity originates from two distant ancestors, which is compatible with contemporary scientific claims about common genetic ancestry with nonhuman animals and population size (though see Swamidass 2019: chs 8–9 on defining ‘human’). The genealogical hypothesis maintains that Adam and Eve may have lived relatively recently, perhaps as recently as 6,000 years ago; that Adam and Eve are genealogical ancestors of everyone by 1 CE, though before this there were individuals who did not descend from Adam and Eve; that God creates Adam and Eve de novo (anew) as the first humans and does not merely refurbish individuals; that Adam and Eve are the ‘same biological type of those’ outside of the garden, and Adam and Eve’s lineage eventually interbreed with these other individuals (Swamidass 2019: 26; see ch. 11); finally, that the individuals outside of the garden share common ancestry with the great apes, and the size of this population of our ancestors was never so small as a single couple (Swamidass 2019: 26). While Swamidass proposes his hypothesis that God creates Adam and Eve de novo, the genealogical hypothesis can also be modified to include the claim that God selected and spiritually refurbished the individuals (Swamidass 2019: 83–91). The core of the genealogical account is that Adam and Eve serve as the genealogical ancestors to the remainder of contemporary humanity. Many other individuals served as universal ancestors by 1 CE, too. Like the above models, the common ancestry model is compatible with the red tooth thesis, the common ancestry thesis, and the large initial population thesis.