The Christian Carnival and Then Some

This week's Christian Carnival is at A True Believers Blog, and includes my post on The Dark Knight and plenty of other things. In particular, this post which quotes an humorous Rabbinic discussion about animals too big for Noah's ark, and also links to a series of posts (here, here, here and here) on why the flood cannot have been global, and why it shouldn't matter.

In other news, Mark Shea links to an excellent post at Old World Swine on Harry Potter, magic tents, free will and materialism—you'll have to read it.

God and the Logical Positivists

In a comment on my last post, Drew noted that debates over the existence of God ultimately come down to a question of what qualifies as satisfying evidence. Here is a post I wrote on the subject for Signs of the Times in 2006:

Doctor(logic) has been arguing that statements must be empirically verifiable to be meaningful, and “total undetectability” is indistinguishable from non-existence (e.g. here and here). He thinks this logical positivism implies that metaphysics is an exercise in futility, and claims such as “God exists” are ultimately meaningless.

Doctor(logic) is a clear thinker who has earned my respect, but I see at least two good reasons to reject this claim and accept that some things that almost certainly exist could be, or indeed must be undetectable. Non-verifiability does not equal non-existence nor make a proposition meaningless.

First, he ignores the very real limitations imposed by our finite embodiment. There are things that are true about our physical universe that are simply not verifiable, even theoretically. For instance, due to the finite speed of light, we simply cannot know what is currently happening in distant parts of the universe. When we look at a galaxy that exists light years away, we are actually seeing what it was like long ago, which would be quite different from what it is like now. No matter how long we wait, we will always be seeing such a galaxy as it was in the past. Nor could we travel there without a great deal of time passing (even if it didn’t feel like it).

There is simply no way we can verify what is currently happening in the distant universe (by “we” I mean myself and any other embodied person with whom I could theoretically have contact). Yet surely this does not mean that the distant universe does not exist, or that statements of fact about it (for instance, how many planets and stars currently exist in galaxy X) are meaningless. Our finitude limits what we can verify; it does not limit what can exist.

Second, he ignores the limitations created by personal agents with (at least the appearance of) free will. If such beings exist (I’m not sure if he thinks we qualify or not), then their actions might be consistent and meaningful, while only inconsistently verifiable from a given frame of reference. What I mean is best illustrated with a thought experiment: Imagine some sort of accident secured you to one place so that moving from that spot became impossible. Such immobility would put your interaction with other people entirely in their hands. If they chose to come and visit you, take your calls, provide you a computer, etc –- you would have access to them. But if they instead chose not to visit, took your phone and computer away and boarded up your door –- you would no have access to them at all, no matter how hard you tried.

Due to the limitations of your vantage point, your ability to detect or verify the existence or activities of your fellow human beings would be inconsistent (and in some cases, impossible), even if those actions themselves were consistent (morally, or socially, for instance). One day, your friends might spend hours and hours with you, providing ample opportunity for you to interact with them. Another day they might not come by at all. One day they might take your calls immediately. Another day they might not answer you in any way (for whatever reason). Some things they might do right in front of you for you to see. Other things they might only do elsewhere, and you could only know about them second-hand. Yet surely the existence of your friends would not hinge upon your own ability to verify or detect their actions at will. Would not their occasional interaction be evidence enough, even if there was no possible experiment you could perform to confirm their existence when they chose not to be available?

Now if that is true of a person trapped in one place, is it not also true of the other limitations imposed by our embodiment? The speed of light is a barrier we humans (probably) cannot cross, but if beings existed that were not so constrained, they could interact with us at will, even while we could not do the same with them. Our ability to verify and detect their existence would be entirely dependent upon their choice. If at a particular time and place they were not disposed to submit to our tests, nothing we did could verify their existence, even though at other times they might make themselves as obvious to us as we could ever wish.

Of course, doctor(logic) is correct that it would be foolish to simply assume (without evidence) that such beings exist. But it seems far from clear that the meaning of such claims must depend on our ability to verify them at will. Such beings could be real and have a real impact on our world without our possessing the ability to test for their existence at all times or places. Thus, I have a question for doctor(logic): Given that a great many people throughout history have claimed that such beings have taken the initiative to contact us, how much evidence of occasional interaction would be necessary for a logical positivist to accept the existence of such beings?

Doctor(logic) responded in the comments and the exchange that followed is well worth reading.

The Dark Side of Sci-Fi

The following is an modifed version of the very first post I ever wrote, originally submitted to the old Crux Project blog Situation Critical (no longer available online). This is admittedly one-sided, so please read John's piece for the other side of the coin:

John Colman has written an excellent post defending science fiction’s ability to ask deep questions and point us toward the supernatural. I wholeheartedly agree with him. Ever since I was a kid watching Star Trek: The Next Generation with my dad, I too have loved science fiction. Besides the positive aspects he mentions, I also love the adventure, the dream of exploring the unknown and fighting wicked villains. But most of all, I love the camaraderie that so often characterizes these stories--a tight-knit group of friends facing the future together, come what may!

But our favorite genre also has a dark side that John neglected to discuss. The more I watch these shows, the more I realize just how many of them fairly drip with naturalistic philosophy. Indeed, much of the sci-fi genre is based on thoroughly materialistic presuppositions. And while a lot of mainstream television and film shares these assumptions, sci-fi is uniquely suited to showcase them in that it expresses, more than any other genre, the hopes and fears of a society.

Consider the Star Trek universe, for instance: Here is depicted a future when humanity will finally see past its differences and live in peace and harmony. Of course, there is still war and violence, but not generally among humans or the United Federation of Planets. If every worldview must tell us who we are, what’s wrong, and what's the solution, then Star Trek tells us we are the product of evolution on one of many planets that have evolved life--not the least advanced, but certainly not the most either. What’s wrong with the universe is not human rebellion against her creator, but interspecies strife among the various races in our galaxy. The solution? Not the final victory of God, but the victory of the Federation against all who oppose peace in the universe--whether they be Klingons, Romulans, or the Borg.

Or take another favorite of mine: Stargate SG-1. Where Star Trek generally ignored religion, Stargate tried to reinvent it in light of modern science. The ancient gods were really just powerful aliens who visited earth throughout our history--some, like the Goa’uld, in hopes of enslaving us, others, like the Asgard, to bless and protect us. In this universe, science is king, and God has no real place. Humanity is a fledgling species, teetering on the brink of either a major evolutionary step forward or complete destruction by our own or some malicious alien’s actions.

Just consider the one episode in the show’s ten-season run which included the word “God” in its title ("There But For the Grace of God," Episode 119): Through a “Quantum Mirror” we are taken to an alternate earth (one of the infinite universes that exist alongside ours, we are told) where things have not worked out so fortuitously--earth has been invaded by the Goa’uld Apophis and faces slavery to a false god. In the end, this alternate earth is saved by the intervention of another alien, the Asgard Thor (note the Egyptian and Norse mythology lying behind their names), but it is clear that “the Grace of God” had nothing to do with it. The show does admirably remind us that we cannot save ourselves, but when God is barred from that role, an alien or superhuman is forced to take his place.

For, in the end, shows like Stargate teach that our universe could just as well be overrun with evil as saved by good. Indeed, the fact that there are an infinite number of universes means that an infinite number have been overrun by evil, and there is no good reason why ours shouldn’t be one of them. For sci-fi is not without its pessimists.

Where the ancient Jewish apocalyptic writers maintained an unwavering faith that even their darkest dreams of worldwide catastrophe would be tempered God’s grace, today’s secular futurists have no such assurances. Whether we are threatened with destruction by our own technology (as in Terminator), an alien race (as in Independence Day), or a killer virus (as in Resident Evil), there are no guarantees that human life will survive. Only God could promise that, but he is too often dismissed as a figment of our imaginations, a relic of bygone days when primitive men still believed in a universe controlled by spirits. Now, apart from alien intervention, we must trust our own resources to overcome such dangers and charge ahead to a glorious future, unless of course this is one of those universes that ends badly. I’ll have to watch next week to find out.

The Logical Fallacies of Materialist Morality

This was first posted in April 2005, the Internet Archive retains a copy here, including some important discussion in the comments. This is by no means my favorite post (I include it mainly for the sake of its follow-up), but it does make some important points about Christianity, Naturalism, and the possibility of objective morality:

I’ve got nothing but respect for Tom Clark’s willingness to engage in open debate on the merits of Naturalism in forums like this, which are so obviously hostile to his viewpoint, but his position is simply untenable. In his response to Denyse O’Leary’s brief criticism of the Center for Naturalism, Clark attempts to defend Naturalism’s (or Materialism’s) ability to preserve a full-blooded morality apart from “controversial and unverifiable metaphysical facts about the nature of human action,” apparently not noticing that Naturalism itself fits into that category just as easily as any form of theism. In support, he points to two articles from the aforementioned Center (“Materialism and Morality: The Problem with Pinker” and “The Moral Levitation of David Brooks”) and an external article by Joshua Greene and Jonathan Cohen [Sorry! the article is no longer available – such is the transitory nature of the internet!].

All three articles make approximately the same point, though the first and especially the third in far greater detail than the second. The point he seems to be trying to draw from them is summarized nicely at the end of “The Moral Levitation”: “if we can demonstrate that moral responsibility survives determinism, and moreover requires it, then perhaps the fear-based objections to a naturalistic understanding of ourselves can be overcome” (emphasis original). In other words, his argument is:

1. Materialism implies hard determinism,
2. Hard determinism is consistent with (or even required for) moral responsibility,
3. Therefore, Materialism is consistent with moral responsibility.

Put in this way, it is not hard to see that this argument violates a basic rule of logic known as "Affirming the Consequent." Consider a similar example [note: I regret this example and would prefer to remove it, but the point I draw from it is valid and important to what follows, so I'll retain it.]:

1. Tom Clark is a human being,
2. Humanity is consistent with (or even required for) femininity,
3. Therefore, Tom Clark is a woman.

Both arguments fail for exactly the same reason: just as Tom can be a human being without being a woman, so Materialism can imply hard determinism without being consistent with moral responsibility. Why? Because there is more to being Tom Clark than there is to being human, and there is more to Materialism than just hard determinism. Moreover, hard determinism, even if true, does not require Materialism, for it is also consistent with Supernaturalism (just ask any Calvinist!). Thus, even if it is true that hard determinism is consistent with, or even required by, moral responsibility, it still would not follow that Materialism is consistent with moral responsibility. (And obviously it would do nothing at all to prove whether or not Materialism is actually true; though, to be fair, this is not what Clark is trying to prove at the moment!)

In reality, this entire argument is a red herring. The real argument has nothing to do with free will and determinism but with the possibility of a binding Moral Law, yet neither Clark nor the articles he links even attempt to justify how Naturalism can provide such a thing. They only attempt to show that, given a moral law, hard determinism (unfairly equated with Materialism) does not prevent us from holding those who break it responsible. Yet if Naturalism is true, then it needs to do more than just maintain a morality that has been handed down to it by the traditional religions it has debunked; it needs to provide its own morality without appealing to any supernatural authority.

Clark does not attempt to do this, but the articles he links do imply Naturalism’s only possible response: In “Materialism and Morality” we read: “Our basic, neurally-embodied desires and preferences, bequeathed us by nature and fine-tuned by culture, constitute us as moral creatures; they determine what we hold to be right and wrong” (emphasis original). In other words, our understanding of right and wrong (our “moral compass”) is, like everything else, a product of our environmental and social conditioning, inherited through our genes and society (for a similar conclusion, see the end of Greene and Cohen’s article [again, sorry!]). And truly, no other answer is available to the Naturalist, for Naturalism denies a priori that anything beyond those proximate causes exists---Nature is all there is.

But it should come as no surprise that this description of the origin of morality is identical with his description of what causes immoral behavior: “The killing of a child, for instance, would be no less bad or wrong in a world in which actions were the natural falling out of various circumstances rather than the result of free will.” So, the killer’s actions are “wrong” despite the fact that they are the natural result of his circumstances, and our moral outrage is “right” despite the fact that it is the natural result of our circumstances! But if naturalism is true, then such distinctions are entirely meaningless, for the very definition of Naturalism is that “Nothing about us escapes being included in the physical universe, or escapes being shaped by the various processes---physical, biological, psychological, and social---that science describes,” and if nothing escapes that influence, then all judgments of right and wrong are equally dependent upon our environment and therefore indistinguishable.

Why should my belief that killing a child is “wrong” have any more authority than the killer’s belief that it is acceptable? Unless there is some standard---something above both of us to tell us what we should value (whether we actually do or not)---then we are at an impasse. I can say: “more people agree with me than with you, and if you don’t stop, we will force you to,” but I can’t say: “I’m right and you’re wrong, and therefore I am justified in forcing you to stop.” No human can be justified that their view of right and wrong is itself right or wrong, unless there is something above all humans against which those judgments can be compared. If Naturalism is true, no such thing exists, for nothing exists beyond nature.

The point is simple---either there is a standard of right and wrong that stands above nature and therefore has the right to judge between the different ways that nature is (e.g., the different ways that we are), or there is not. If there is not, as Naturalism unabashedly declares, then all morality is relative; if there is, then Naturalism is false. That is why Naturalism is “inconsistent with morality” (a better way to put it would be “incapable of providing a standard of morality”), and the debate over free will and determinism is a separate issue altogether.