In the early decades of the nineteenth century, American sermon style, which in Puritan times had been characterized by restraint and theological rigor, came to be dominated by entertaining pulpit illustrations, stories, and even humor. The new sermon style was particularly lively among the fiery urban evangelists of Whitman’s New York. During the 1830s and 40s, the evangelical denominations had to compete against each other, against the rising popular press, and against popular entertainments like stage melodramas and Barnum’s Museum for the attention of a working-class population increasingly made up of rowdies and roughs [6].The religious vision and perceptions of preceding generations of Americans, perhaps more so than either politics or economics and going all the way back to the early centuries of the Common Era, are almost as embedded and ingrained in the psyche of the general public as is the mass media industry that churns out novels, music, movies and all the attendant merchandise that accompanies the most successful of these mediums’ products. The consequence for mainstream religion and (on an individual level) for those who practice its rituals and claim its beliefs is a two-edged sword. On the one hand, the presentation and expression of religious faith in a world significantly shaped by modern mass media has the potential to enjoy a level of effectiveness and versatility unavailable to previous generations. On the other hand, the same widespread use of communication technologies will inevitably change and alter the message being voiced by modern generations of churchgoers. If we are to take seriously (and it is the argument of this author that we must) the famous aphorism of media theorist Marshall McLuhan that “The medium is the message,” then we can expect the different and ever-changing ways in which mainstream religion communicates its message to obtain towards a change in the worldview being expressed from generation to generation. The purpose of this six-part study will be to examine the ways in which traditional religious movements (particularly Christianity) have availed themselves of secular communication mediums. In particular, I focus on the role played by three different types of popular media (film, music, and fiction novels) in changing and/or altering the essential nature of the religious message being communicated. The ways in which religion adapts to changing cultural trends in order to remain afloat (read relevant) and attempt to continue providing coherent answers to modern challenges to traditional faith is the unifying theme of this research. Religious fiction novels are treated as non-canonical etiological supplements to traditional faith texts, contemporary religious music is explored as a tool to reinforce faith by way of emotional responses elicited, and religious films are analyzed as actualizing tools that aid the faithful in visualizing the ancient accounts that form the basis of their worldview. The importance of this research can be seen by noting the prevalent influence religious ideas and concepts have had on all aspects of social, political and economic life in this country. Religious themes have become so embedded in the popular culture, whose mediums reflect them constantly, to the extent that religions’ most iconic symbols, imagery, and mythos are at times resilient to easy dissection and critique. There is much relevance to be found in attempting, as this research project does, to determine whether religion informs and influences popular culture communication, or whether popular culture informs and influences religion in modern times. NOTES 1. Thunderf00t, “Jesus Christ and the House of Merchandise,” YouTube 28 October 2011, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2UaIRZghoYs (accessed 1 June 2012). 2. R. Laurence Moore, Selling God: American Religion in the Marketplace of Culture (New York: Oxford University Press, 1994), 255. 3. Quentin J. Schultze, Televangelism and American Culture: The Business of Popular Religion (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1991), 98. 4. Moore, Selling God, p. 42. 5. Emory Holloway, ed., The Uncollected Poetry and Prose of Walt Whitman (Gloucester, MA: Peter Smith, 1972), 255. 6. David S. Reynolds, “Whitman’s America: A Revaluation of the Cultural Backgrounds of ‘Leaves of Grass,’” Mickle Street Review 9.2 (1988): 7.
Friday, June 1, 2012
Religion in American Popular Culture (Part 1): Introduction
Friday, January 20, 2012
The Scientific Verdict on God (Part 2): Supernaturalism as a Scientifically Testable Model
“Scientific criticism has no nobler task than to shatter false beliefs.”
~ Ludwig von Mises, 1932
In order to arrive at any justifiable conclusion on what verdict science can lay upon the claim that a god exists, we must first make the case that science is in a position to weigh in on the supernatural, and that it violates no jurisdiction by doing so. On one level, establishing the truth of this argument is very simple: If a claim concerning God or other supernatural entities contains testable elements, then the validity of the supernatural can be scientifically tested. For example, if the claim is made that any two Christians who pray to their God can physically move a mountain from its place and cast it into the sea, then we have before us an obvious empirical test that can be performed (Matthew 18:19-20; 21:21-22; Mark 11:22-24).
On the other hand, the complications that arise when making the above argument are usually grounded in traditionalism, that is, how scientists traditionally approach concepts of the supernatural. The most important problem we encounter is the common assertion that science has nothing and can say nothing about God. I strongly dispute that common belief; the God most people worship is a God that supposedly plays a very important role in every single event in the universe, from atomic transitions in some far-off galaxy to a leaf falling on the ground here on Earth, and who actively listens to every human thought. Such a God as this should therefore be detectable by his effects, by the ways in which he makes his presence known within the natural world. While it is true to say that science deals strictly with natural phenomena, the kind of God most people believe in should exert observable effects upon and within those natural phenomena. Any God who interacts in any conceivable way with the material, physical reality we experience should provide us with actions that can actually be tested for.
The Irrelevancy of Deism
The only kind of God that would most likely lie beyond any possibility of scientific investigation is the non-falsifiable deistic god, one who started the universe but no longer interferes with it in any way. The deist god was the God of the Enlightenment, one might say. It was the god that most of the founders of the United States actually believed in, most notably Thomas Jefferson. The "Creator" of the Declaration of Independence is not the Christian God. The “Creator” mentioned in the Declaration of Independence is instead a clear reference to the deist god.
At that time in history (the late eighteenth century) physics was a highly successful enterprise. Science had attained an impressive level of success with Newtonian physics, and most people then believed that everything that happened was completely determined by the laws of physics. It was therefore quite natural for reasonable people at the time to propose that the only god that is necessary is one that created the universe and established its physical laws. If that god is perfect, they reasoned, he should have simply left the universe alone indefinitely after creating it. That deistic, non-interventionist god was a possible god at that time, given the range of scientific knowledge then available.
However, in our current age, we have at our disposal a great deal more knowledge of the universe and of physics than people at that time had, and quite a different picture now emerges which poses a strong threat to theistic belief. Based upon our best knowledge in the area of cosmology, it appears that the universe began in a state of maximum chaos (what physicists call “maximum entropy”). If this was indeed the case, then the universe had no structure and no laws at the point of its inception; it was essentially nothing at that early moment in the universe’s history. This means that if there had been a Creator God (the deist god, for example), no memory or trace of that god would be preserved in the current universe. Therefore, even the deist god of the Enlightenment, while not completely ruled out, is ruled irrelevant by the mere fact that maximum chaos dominated at the moment the universe was born (in fact, the only Creator that remains a possibility under current scientific scrutiny is the kind of creator that Einstein famously objected to, namely the creator that throws dice).
There may indeed have been a Creator. After all, an all-powerful being could have created the Singularity in ultimate chaos and allowed the result to proceed on its own, watching in a non-participatory manner to see what happens. But if there was such a Creator, the facts of science tell us that this being created only maximum chaos, leaving us no memory of him/her/it (and this includes any Creator God of any culture). If a god created the universe, he/she/it subjected it to a state that is entirely opaque to any memory of what its intentions may have been. While this is completely possible, this would again point to an irrelevant god, one that may as well be non-existent. There would certainly be no point in praying to such a being, because that being has nothing whatsoever to do with the current universe, with which he/she/it is not a part.
The Tinkering God
But of course, that is not the kind of god worshipped by the majority of people today. The God most people worship today is one who is a participant in the universe, and an extremely active one at that. Thus, while I argue that we can confidently dismiss any scientifically-tenable Creator as one who would be reduced to utter irrelevancy, we still need to discuss the God who is claimed, against all scientific reason, to have stepped in after the creation, the God who takes actions and tinkers with the universe and who is claimed to have an effect on our lives. If that tinkering God exists, he should be eminently detectable by the actions he takes following the creation.
The National Academy of Sciences, however, missed this point entirely when they published the following statement: “Science is a way of knowing about the natural world. It is limited to explaining the natural world through natural causes. Science can say nothing about the supernatural. Whether God exists or not is a question about which science is neutral” [1]. What is bitterly amusing about this statement is that it seems to only comes from scientists or laypeople. Perhaps surprisingly (and definitely ironically), one very rarely hears statements to this effect from theologians. They routinely claim the opposite, insisting that science can and should be used to demonstrate the existence of God. A great number of books have been written by theists claiming scientific evidence for the existence of God, demonstrating that theists clearly want to believe that the evidence is out there [2]. By far, the people who most insist that science should have nothing to say about God tend to be scientists.
In 1998, a very revealing survey was conducted by researchers Edward J. Larson and Larry Witham. This survey indicated that only a mere seven percent of the members of the U.S. National Academy of Sciences, those representing the elite of American scientists, believed in a personal God [3]. This demographic of belief within the NAS is close to being the exact opposite, or inverse, of the belief demographic among the general populace of the United States. Here we have a significant number of atheist scientists who make various pronouncements to the public from time to time. And in one of these pronouncements regarding evolution and creationism, as we have seen already from the quote given above, they state that science has nothing to say about the supernatural, and can say nothing about God. This pronouncement is plainly wrong; it is clear that science can indeed comment on God, because the God most people worship is the God that should manifest empirical effects on the world, such as prayer efficacy.
How do we explain this tendency among predominantly atheist scientists to refrain from exposing religious claims as scientifically untenable? I would argue that this tendency is by and large a protective measure, for two reasons. First, it is within the scientific community’s perceived interest to avoid making religious people angry at them or angry at science in general. That would cause the worst thing that could possibly happen to any scientist: the loss of their funding. Second, the nature of the cultural war between evolution and creationism poses certain pragmatic barriers to public scientific criticisms of religious assertions. Many scientists believe that the best policy is to avoid attacking religion directly on the issue of evolution versus creationism, despite the fact that the entire motivation for creationism is 100 percent religious in nature. Various science groups, such as the National Center for Science Education, which does excellent work in trying to keep evolution taught in schools, issue statements to the effect that they are not going to criticize religion in any way. Their reasoning is that they want and need the support of more moderate forms of religion which allow for the possibility of evolution within their theologies and are willing to accept it as real science (the Catholic Church is one prominent example of a religious entity that supposedly supports evolution, although the current Pope Benedict XVI clearly holds different ideas than the previous, more progressively-oriented Pope).
In the meantime, science groups who have begun to back off from criticizing religion directly want desperately to keep and maintain any support they can garner. This is completely understandable on one level. But it is my contention that at some point, public support for science is going to start falling apart if this reluctance to engage the claims of religion is continued and prolonged. In the past decade, we have already witnessed the first signs of this disintegration of public support in this country, especially in social issues that bear directly on the conflict between science and religion. One need look no further than the many documented ways in which the Bush Administration suppressed science [4], and also made and acted on decisions that were based entirely on faith rather than evidence, including the war in Iraq. Indeed, it is inarguable at this point that the United States’ initiation of and heavy involvement in the disastrous Iraq War was based on blind faith. Numerous other terrible events transpired that were directly sanctioned in the name of religion and made possible by its machinations.
This is one reason why scientists in this country must start to speak out strongly against the thinking process that goes into religious beliefs. In fact, the time for scientists to begin speaking out against religious pseudoscience is long overdue. Several prominent and reputable scientists from a number of disciplines have done just this over the past decade, and their books have demonstrated that science is not only able to make definitive critical assessments of religion and the supernatural, but that it is obliged to do so. These scientists include zoologist/biologist Richard Dawkins [5], neuroscientist Sam Harris [6], and particle physicist Victor Stenger [7] among several others. The movement looks promising, having influenced prominent nonscientists such as the late, great journalist Christopher Hitchens to join them in unapologetically speaking out, in an empirical manner characteristic of scientists, against the type of religious thinking that has been at the root of all manner of social ills (which obviously includes much more than pseudoscience, with which scientists can and should deal) in this country and abroad [8].
A second reason the scientific community as a whole must start speaking out against the tenets of religion is because to refrain from doing so is dogmatic, even if unwittingly so. Those scientists who say that science has nothing to say about the supernatural, that science should stay out of assessments and analysis of religion altogether, end up playing right into the hands of people like Phillip Johnson, the Christian lawyer who is largely responsible for initiating the Intelligent Design movement with his series of anti-Darwin books published in the 1990s [9]. Johnson has asserted time and time again throughout these books that a "bias of naturalism" exists in the scientific community. Johnson charges that the modern scientific establishment assumes everything is material and natural, and that this is an assumption to which scientists are dogmatically attached. Thus, every time a scientist states that science has nothing to do with the supernatural, only with the natural, they are playing right into the hands of people like Johnson.
One eminent scientist who fell for what I call the Johnson Trap is the late great paleontologist Stephen Jay Gould. In his 1999 book Rocks of Ages, Gould put forth the idea that science and religion constitute two “Non-Overlapping Magisteria” [10]. He proposed that science and religion occupy completely separate spheres of knowledge (or magisteria). Science concerns itself with the understanding of the natural world, while religion is associated with tackling issues of morality. Most academics who reviewed the book agreed that in it Gould was attempting to redefine religion as moral philosophy [11]. The fact of the matter is that most religions are not content with merely being moral philosophies. All religions have something to say about the natural world, the most ubiquitous being that a supreme entity designed and created it and interacts with it in a tangible way.
Moreover, there is no reason why science should not be able to weigh in on morality as well [12]. Morality is often touted as something that science can say nothing about. While science perhaps may not be able to inform us as to what is right and wrong, science can certainly examine human behavior, which is an observable phenomenon. And science has every right to study everything that is observable, and to construct models that describe these observations. In the final analysis, science at its most basic is involved with observing the world, the universe, human beings, and anything that causes some kind of signal to enter one’s sensory apparatus. As I detailed in Part 1 of this series, the Scientific Method then proceeds to create models to describe what is seen and to aid in the investigators’ understanding. This means making these models as universal as possible so they do not rely on any one particular point of view. Scientific models that describe reality must be objective, and the process toward that end is a smooth, natural procedure when properly carried out.
Has Science Found God?
On July 20, 1998, Newsweek magazine featured a cover story by science writer Sharon Begley entitled “Science Finds God,” a piece which credulously promotes the view that modern science is providing support for the belief that God exists [13]. The achievements of modern science, according to Begley, are beginning to offer support for spirituality for a growing number of scientists who have begun to dabble in theology. Begley concludes,
The default setting of science is eternal doubt; the core of religion is faith. Yet profoundly religious people and great scientists are both driven to understand the world. Once, science and religion were viewed as two fundamentally different, even antagonistic, ways of pursuing that quest, and science stood accused of smothering faith and killing God. Now, it may strengthen belief. And although it cannot prove God’s existence, science might whisper to believers where to seek the divine [14].In supporting her conclusion, Begley provides a number of data points in the form of interviews with reputable scientists The article begins with an anecdotal profile of the astronomer Allan Sandage, who at the age of 50 “willed himself” to believe in the supernatural. Begley quotes Sandage as saying, “It was my science that drove me to the conclusion that the world is much more complicated than can be explained by science. It is only through the supernatural that I can understand the mystery of existence.”
Next, Begley comments on the historical enmity that has existed between science and religion. The notion of the Non-Overlapping Magisteria (NOMA) is discussed, an impasse between the two modes of inquiry that Begley implies is the end result of the threat that Enlightenment science posed to theology, coupled with the intolerance many deeply religious believers (“fundamentalists”) harbor toward science. But science and theology are coming together into a new consonance, say many scientist-theologians. Robert John Russell, a physicist-turned theologian, founded the Center for Theology and the Natural Sciences (CTNS) at the Graduate Theological Union in 1981. He told Newsweek that “theology and science are entering into a new relationship.”
What are the details of this new relationship? According to the scientist-theologians cited in the article, Big Bang cosmology implies to some scientists that there is a design and purpose behind the universe. Evolution “provides clues to the very nature of God,” say others. Even chaos theory is being interpreted as opening a door for God to act in the world. Institutions, books, symposiums, and television documentaries (PBS’s Faith and Reason, 1998) proclaim a new synthesis. Books include such titles as Science and Theology: The New Consonance [15] and Belief in God in an Age of Science [16].
In 1977, Steven Weinberg, a Nobel Prize-winning physicist, wrote, “The more the universe seems comprehensible, the more it seems pointless [17].” But if Begley’s report is to be accepted as accurate, physicists are becoming theologians based on alleged scientific evidence for God. Begley quotes physicist-turned-Anglican priest John Polkinghorne as stating, “When you realize that the laws of nature must be incredibly finely-tuned to produce the universe we see, that conspires to plant the idea that the universe did not just happen, but that there must be a purpose behind it.” Charles Townes, a Nobel Prize-winning physicist and Christian theist, told Begley, “Many have a feeling that somehow intelligence must have been involved in the laws of the universe.” The article also invokes the notion of “Mathematical Platonism” (the apparent harmony between human thought and natural law) and “quantum theology, in which Chaos Theory and events at the quantum level supply an opening for God to act in the world. The end result of all this, says Begley, is that scientists are finding inspiration in belief to be scientists in the first place. Examples include Mehdi Golshani, a Muslim physicist and author of The Holy Qur'an and the Sciences of Nature [18], and Carl Feit, a Jewish biologist and Talmudic scholar and contributor to such volumes as God for the 21st Century [19] and Jewish Tradition and the Challenge of Darwinism [20].
Nontheistic skeptics are noticeably underrepresented in Begley’s article, the sole exception being a quote extracted from an interview with Michael Shermer, director of the Skeptics Society: “Science is a method, not a body of knowledge,” Shermer told our author. “It can have nothing to say either way about whether there is a God. These are two such different things, it would be like using baseball stats to prove a point in football.”
Begley’s article prompted particle physicist Victor Stenger to write a book-length response, entitled Has Science Found God? In this book, Stenger examines all the major arguments that people have used in favor of the claim that science had stumbled upon God, including the Intelligent Design argument, the terrestrial and cosmological Fine-Tuning Arguments, the Kalam Cosmological Argument, etc. After thoroughly investigating these arguments, Stenger concludes that there is in fact an absence of evidence for the existence of God [21]. And he is certainly not the only scientist to make this conclusion.
Even the most pious believer must admit up front (because this is a fact) that there is no sufficient empirical evidence for the existence of any god that has satisfied scientific consensus. God is simply not a part of modern science. If we had such evidence in hand, if God was accepted by an overall consensus within modern science, then that evidence would surely have a prominent place in the textbooks, right alongside the textbook evidence for quarks, for electrons, for atoms, etc. But there is currently no good evidence for God that has stood up under the normal scrutiny of science, let alone hard scrutiny, and this is a matter of fact, not opinion.
The reader will likely already be familiar with the common rejoinder to this conclusion. In the words of the famed astronomer Carl Sagan, “absence of evidence is not evidence of absence” [22]. But upon reflection, this reasoning amounts to little more than a clever play on words. Absence of evidence really is evidence of absence, and good evidence at that. Most of us do not believe in the Loch Ness Monster or in Bigfoot precisely because we do not have any evidence indicating their existence. Why should anyone believe in the reality of anything for which there is no evidence and thus no reason to believe?
The Failure of Prayer
Not only is there an absence of evidence (which is already by itself a good argument against God, and at the very least a good argument to reserve belief), but there is also positive evidence that God does not exist, evidence that allows one to falsify the God Hypothesis whenever a God is specifically defined [23]. One of my favorite examples of this positive evidence that works actively against the notion of a participant God is the failure of prayer. Consider what we should expect to see if there was a God who answered prayer in a significant way (that is, not just once every ten million years, for example). At what rate are prayers being said, say, every second? This number must be in the billions [24]. If any of these billions of prayers were worthwhile, if there was any real purpose behind praying, then we should see at least some tangible results of prayer on a regular basis. And this is something that can (and, as we shall see, has been) tested by scientific means. It is possible to perform carefully controlled experiments on intercessory prayer, for example, taking all the best techniques that we know of from other fields of science, especially blinded studies, and applying them to a study on prayer’s effects.
Let us entertain a hypothetical situation: suppose that a series of such rigorous and robust experiments were performed on intercessory prayer, and the result created unanimous agreement on the part of all scientists involved that Catholic prayers really are effective. The results show conclusively and beyond a reasonable doubt that Catholic prayers work in healing the sick. Furthermore, the results show that Catholic prayers are the only prayers that work. Hindu prayers do not work, Buddhist prayers do not work, Protestant Christian prayers do not work, and Jewish and Muslim prayers do not work. Only Catholic prayers are demonstrated to work. Given a result like this, I would be hard-pressed to think of any plausible natural explanation for it. If atheists such as myself were to observe such a phenomenon, most of us would find ourselves conceding that perhaps a God exists after all, and more, a God who answers prayers. Furthermore, we would have to concede that the Catholics had it right all along; the God demonstrated to exist by such experiments is the Catholic God. I can only speak for myself when I say that a result of this kind would lead me to become a believing theist once again.
But of course, this hypothetical situation has not played out in reality. We do not see any evidence that prayer is efficacious in any way, shape or form. And in fact, there have actually been a series of very good experiments, done by reputable scientists associated with reputable institutions (Mayo Clinic, Harvard and Duke University) and published in reputable scientific journals, which utilized standard scientific methods to empirically and rigorously test the efficacy of prayer [25].
My favorite of the major scientific prayer studies is the one that came from Duke University. In 2001, physicians from that institution began a clinical trial that spanned three years to study the effects of intercessory prayer, along with other so-called noetic therapies such as music, imagery and touch therapy. The subjects of the trial consisted of 748 patients awaiting angioplasty for obstruction of the coronary artery in nine U.S. hospitals, and the trial involved the intercessions of twelve prayer groups from around the world. These included a representative number of religious persuasions, including lay and monastic Christians, Sufi Muslims, Buddhist monks and Jews.
The protocols of this study were straightforward and highly competent: the 748 patients were selected at random by computer, divided into two groups, and their names sent to the twelve prayer groups, who prayed for the complete recovery of selected patients. The clinical trials were performed in a double-blind fashion; it was unknown to both the patients and the hospital staff which group was being prayed for and which was not. According to the final test results published in the journal Lancet in 2005, no significant differences were observed between the two groups’ recovery and health: “Neither masked prayer nor MIT [music, imagery, touch] therapy significantly improved clinical outcome after elective catheterisation or percutaneous coronary intervention” [26].
It is instructive to note that these experiments were not undertaken by atheists or skeptics. These experiments were performed by believing scientists who wanted to find evidence for the efficacy of prayer. But they were good scientists who allowed the data to decide the results rather than their own desires, and going only where the data leads is always the proper methodology in science. While one might be tempted to conclude that the scientists involved in the Duke study, for example, were initially looking underhandedly for a Templeton Prize, the fact of the matter is that they were good enough scientists to have the integrity to publish the results, even when the results failed to produce the conclusion they were searching for. And what have the results of these experiments on prayer shown? They have uniformly found that there are no visible effects to prayer.
Such scientific tests give the lie to the notion that science can have no say on the supernatural. The studies I have cited serve as illustrative examples demonstrating that science can legitimately comment on God. Experiments have been done (and will continue to be done) that directly address the question of the supernatural.
But we need not even point to these studies to convince theists of this truth. Theists who have written books and articles (of which there are hundreds) purporting to validate the god hypothesis through scientific evidence have already implicitly ceded this point. Thus, when unbiased scientists respond in kind and proceed to put supernatural claims to the tests with proper protocol, such theists are in no position to lodge objections on the basis of a “non-overlapping magisteria” argument.
When Theism Flirts With Science
In May 2007, physicist Frank Tipler of Tulane University was highlighted in a CBS Channel 5 news report for his announcement that he had come up with an equation that he claimed proved the existence of God. Invoking the idea that physics forces the continual existence of the universe, Tipler boldly stated that "as long as you're using . . . general relativity, and quantum mechanics, you are forced to conclude that God exists” [27]. This announcement came shortly before the release of his 2007 book The Physics of Christianity, in which Tipler attempts to tie his God equation into additional scientific demonstrations of the divinity of Jesus and a variety of other metaphysical claims specific to Christianity. He came monumentally short of persuading any of his colleagues in the fields of physics, cosmology and mathematics, and the promised “equation” was never released. Instead, interested followers of his announcement were left with a vague and gibberish-laden summary:
Tipler then concludes that life must be present to the end, using a string of complex and partly circular arguments: black holes evaporate, this would violate 'unitarity, a fundamental law of quantum mechanics' (nowhere in books on quantum theory, not even in Tipler's book, do I find 'unitarity' mentioned), so universe must collapse, but 'event horizons' would force information and entropy to approach zero, this contradicts second law, thus event horizons do not exist, thus information goes to infinity, thus the universe is closed and goes to final singularity, but without life this would yield an infinitely improbable state, this contradicts second law, thus life must be present to guide universe to final singularity, thus event horizons are absent [28].
If nothing else, a supernatural being that participates in and interferes constantly with the physical universe should at least leave a straightforward statistical trace, not a string of incomprehensible gobbledygook sprung from the imaginative mind of a physicist with too much time on his hands. In fact, statistical evidences are among the strongest kind of evidences one could hope to secure in science, and a number of theists recognize this. Physicist and theist Stephen Unwin favors this statistical approach in his 2003 book The Probability of God, in which he purports to prove, to a high probability, that God exists by using Bayesian mathematical methods and analysis. Unwin’s calculations yield a probability of 67 percent in favor of God:
Through systematic analysis of the evidence, I assess the final truth probability of Proposition G to be 67 percent. This means that the balance of probability – that is 33 percent (100 percent less 67 percent) – attaches to Proposition G*, which is that God does not exist. So comparing 67 percent to 33 percent, we have in effect assessed the odds at 2 to 1 in favor of God.
Your assessment of the evidence may differ. So now that you have the hang of the process, you may wish to adjust the numbers as you see fit and see what results you derive. You may even have new evidentiary areas to add [29].
Unwin does not stop there, though. In a bizarre move, he ends up boosting his initial calculation of 67 percent up to 95 percent by the end of his book, the balance of 28 percent originating in a last-minute injection of “faith.” In the process of justifying this probability-boosting, Unwin fully reveals the highly subjective and arbitrary nature of what is only ostensibly a mathematical proof. He writes, for example, “[A] faith factor of 28 percent is necessary to account for the discrepancy between my reasoned, calculated probability of God and my actual degree of belief in his existence. So this 28 percent factor is my trust in God’s existence: the experiential component of my belief” [30].
In response to Unwin’s venture, Tufts University physicist Larry Ford acted upon Unwin’s encouragement to assess the evidence and adjust the numbers to his satisfaction. He recalculated the Bayesian probability of God and came up with his own estimate: 10-17 [31].
The lesson to be drawn from this is that if one wishes hard enough to find God in mathematics, he will be found. It all depends on how one reads the numbers. With Bayesian analysis specifically, results depend entirely on what numbers are subjectively inserted by the individual assessor. As Unwin himself admits in his book, “Life thrusts too much information at us. It is therefore a vacuous exercise in my view to speculate on whether access to the same evidence should always lead two people to produce the same probabilities” [32]. He goes on to acknowledge that “It is certainly the case that Bayesian probabilities have a subjective element. A degree of belief is a subjective notion . . . partial subjectivity is an inevitable attribute of probabilities” [33].
Therefore, we should dispute, at the outset, anybody who claims that he or she can construct a mathematical test of God’s existence. We are obliged to rely on strictly objective observations to the best of our ability and as much and often as we possibly can. Unfortunately, however, most objective observations tend to manifest qualitatively, rather than quantitatively. In fact, it is highly doubtful that it is even possible to make an argument for God’s existence a quantitative one.
Because both theists and atheists can look at the same data, the same mathematics, and come up with entirely different results, the burden of proof lies squarely on the shoulders of those making the positive claim, which would be the theist in this case.
NOTES
1. National Academy of Sciences, Teaching About Evolution and the Nature of Science (Washington, DC: National Academy of Sciences, 1998), p. 58.
2. See Victor J. Stenger, Has Science Found God? The Latest Results in the Search for Purpose in the Universe (Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 2003) for an excellent examination of these claims that conclusively finds they do not hold up under careful critical scrutiny.
3. Edward J. Larson and Larry Witham, “Leading Scientists Still Reject God,” Nature 394 (1998): 313.
4. See Chris Mooney, The Republican War on Science (New York: Perseus Books Group, 2005) for documentation of many examples of this concerted suppression of science by Republican politics and the resultant emergence of socially-harmful policies.
5. Richard Dawkins, The God Delusion (Boston, New York: Houghton Mifflin, 2006).
6. Sam Harris, The End of Faith: Religion, Terror, and the Future of Reason (New York: Norton, 2004); Letter to a Christian Nation (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2006); The Moral Landscape: How Science Can Determine Human Values (New York: Free Press, 2010).
7. Victor J. Stenger, Has Science Found God? The Latest Results in the Search for Purpose in the Universe (Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 2003); God: The Failed Hypothesis – How Science Shows That God Does Not Exist (Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 2007); Quantum Gods: Creation, Chaos and the Search for Cosmic Consciousness (Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 2009); The New Atheism: Taking a Stand for Science and Reason (Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 2009); The Fallacy of Fine-Tuning: Why the Universe is Not Designed for Us (Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 2011).
8. Christopher Hitchens, God is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything (New York: Twelve Books, 2007); Hitchens (ed.), The Portable Atheist: Essential Readings for the Non-Believer (Cambridge, MA: Da Capo Press, 2007).
9. Phillip E. Johnson, Evolution as Dogma: The Establishment of Naturalism (Dallas, TX: Haughton Publishing Co., 1990); Darwin on Trial (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1991); Reason in the Balance: The Case Against Naturalism in Science, Law and Education (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1995); Defeating Darwinism by Opening Minds (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1997); The Wedge of Truth: Splitting the Foundations of Naturalism (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2001).
10. Stephen Jay Gould, Rocks of Ages: Science and Religion in the Fullness of Life (New York: Ballantine Books, 2002).
11. Ursula Goodenough, “The Holes in Gould’s Semipermeable Membrane Between Science and Religion,” American Scientist May/June 1999; H. Allen Orr, “Gould on God: Can Religion and Science Be Happily Reconciled?” Boston Review Oct./Nov. 1999; Kenak Malik, “Inventing Allies in the Sky,” New Statesman 19 Feb. 2001, 49-50.
12. See Harris, The Moral Landscape.
13. Sharon Begley, “Science Finds God,” Newsweek 20 July 1998, pp. 47-51.
14. Ibid., p. 51.
15. Ted Peters, ed., Science and Theology: The New Consonance (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1999).
16. John Polkinghorne, Belief in God in an Age of Science (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1998).
17. Steven Weinberg, The First Three Minutes: A Modern View of the Origin of the Universe (New York: Basic Books, 1977), p. 154.
18. Mehdi Golshani, The Holy Qur’an and the Sciences of Nature: A Theological Reflection (New York: Global Scholarly Publications, 2003).
19. Russell Stannard, ed., God for the 21st Century (Radnor, PA: Templeton Foundation Press, 2000).
20. Geoffrey Cantor and Marc Swetlitz, eds., Jewish Tradition and the Challenge of Darwinism (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006).
21. Stenger, Has Science Found God? pp. 219-260.
22. Carl Sagan, The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark (New York: Ballantine Books, 1996), p. 213.
23. Stenger, God: The Failed Hypothesis.
24. As a side note, I find it rather amusing that many Christians insist on making grand public shows of their praying, which is contrary to what Jesus instructed his followers to do. According to Matthew 6:5-6, Jesus says, “And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward. But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret.” Most Christians obviously do not follow this instruction, which they would do well to look up (yes, please read your Bible, Christians; the more Christians actually read the Bible, the less Christians we would end up with). What we find instead is many Christians attempting to force prayer into as many aspects of public life that they can.
25. M.W. Krucoff, et al., “Music, Imagery, Touch, and Prayer as Adjuncts to Interventional Cardiac Care: The Monitoring and Actualisation of Noetic Trainings (MANTRA) II Randomised Study,” Lancet 366 (16 July 2005): 211-17; H. Benson, et al., “Study of the Therapeutic Effects of Intercessory Prayer (STEP) in Cardiac Bypass Patients: A Multicenter Randomized Trial of Uncertainty and Certainty of Receiving Intercessory Prayer,” American Heart Journal 151, no. 4 (2006): 934-42.
26. Krucoff, et al., p. 211; for a media report on the Duke MANTRA study, see Jonathan Petre, “Power of Prayer Found Wanting in Hospital Trial,” The Telegraph 15 Oct. 2003.
27. Quoted in Salman Hameed, “The Proof of God: Tipler and His Pseudoscience,” Irtiqa: A Science & Religion Blog 10 May 2007, http://sciencereligionnews.blogspot.com/2007/05/proof-of-god-tipler-and-his.html (accessed 20 January 2012).
28. Quoted in PZ Myers, “Is This What We Can Expect from Comfort/Cameron?” Pharyngula 5 May 2007, http://scienceblogs.com/pharyngula/2007/05/is_this_what_we_can_expect_fro.php (accessed 20 January 2012).
29. Stephen D. Unwin, The Probability of God: A Simple Calculation That Proves the Ultimate Truth (New York: Three Rivers Press, 2003), pp. 128-129.
30. Ibid., p. 189.
31. Victor J. Stenger, “God and Rev. Bayes,” Skeptical Briefs 17.2 (June 2007), online at http://www.csicop.org/sb/show/god_and_rev._bayes (accessed 20 January 2012); The Fallacy of Fine-Tuning, pp. 249-252.
32. Unwin, The Probability of God, p. 67.
33. Ibid., p. 68.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
The Scientific Verdict on God (Part 1): Models
“The sciences do not try to explain, they hardly even try to interpret, they mainly make models. By a model is meant a mathematical construct which, with the addition of certain verbal interpretations, describes observed phenomena. The justification of such a mathematical construct is solely and precisely that it is expected to work.” ~ John von Neumann [1]
One of the greatest misperceptions about science entertained among the general public today is that science is a noun. In other words, most people tend to erroneously think of science as a monolithic thing whose primary function is to manufacture proofs, instead of looking at science as it really is: a model that describes reality and how to build it. The viability of a given model is based entirely on (1) how reliable it is, (2) how usable it is, and (3) whether or not it is consistently reproved and continually open to revision by the evidence we have found or may yet find.
It is important to recognize the word “model” in science-based discussions, because many people very often use the word “theory” (which is itself a much misunderstood word) when they should be using the word “model.” The practice of science, at its most basic, involves making observations of the physical world. The set of basic assumptions that all scientists start out with must always be based on observations. Consider, for example, the concept of time. A scientific investigator is certainly going to start with time when trying to describe almost anything. But how does one go about defining “time”? Not even philosophers have been able to arrive at a consensus on how time should be defined. The definition that Einstein came up with is that time is what one reads on a clock. And clocks are a human invention, allowing us humans to define “time” in terms of whatever basic units we wish and agree upon. The basic unit of time, the second, was redefined in 1967 by international agreement as the amount of time required for a caesium-133 atom to undergo 9,192,631,770 vibrations [2]. Prior to 1967, the second was defined as 1/86,400 of a mean solar day. The new definition was chosen simply for the sake of convenience, as it more fully accounted for irregularities in the rotation of the Earth and thus allowed for comparatively simpler equations. In 1997, the time standard was further refined to specify that the caesium atom used to define time was to be one at rest at absolute zero.
In conventional physics, all the other various observational qualities follow on the heels of this pragmatic approach: Distance is what you read with a meter stick, a meter being currently defined by international agreement as the distance light traverses between two points in a vacuum during 1/299,792,458 of a second. Temperature is what you read on a thermometer.
These are known as operational definitions, the establishment of which marks the first step in the practice of science, especially physics. Ideally, the operational definitions physicists make are based on specifically-prescribed measuring procedures and informed by empirical observations, and only then do physicists proceed to carry out those measurements. Scientists are highly concerned with making their measurements quantitative. If scientists can be quantitative in their approach, much of their work is complete, thanks to the seemingly elusive quality of precision that is thereby achieved. The quantitatively-oriented physicist is then ready to build models to describe her observations. If the models work, then they are useful. If they do not work, they are not useful. As long as a given model is useful, it does not matter whether it has any correspondence with ultimate reality. In other words, whether or not an electron actually exists in reality, one can still use the electron model to calculate to a high degree of accuracy the current flows in electronic circuits. Never does metaphysics enter the issue at all. As particle physicist Victor Stenger explains,
[T]he true reality of the universe is not necessarily composed of objects that possess attributes such as position and mass which we assign them in the process of doing physics. These variables, after all, are human inventions with no precisely definable meaning beyond their measurements as performed with specific apparatuses such as clocks and meter sticks.Another illustrative example of a model is the earth’s sun. We usually instinctively regard the sun as an orb travelling across the sky. If you are a traveler journeying from east to west, you can use the sun to guide your direction; by heading in the direction of the sunset, you know you are heading generally west. Although you must correct just slightly for longitude, you can successfully use the model of the sun as an orb moving across the sky. The ancient Greeks believed that the sun was Apollo pulling a chariot across the sky. That understanding constituted the dominant metaphysics of the time. The ancient Chinese, meanwhile, understood the sun to be a golden bird flying across the sky.Describing nature in terms of physical variables is like sketching or photographing an object. Isn’t it rather foolish to equate images on a piece of paper with the real thing? Confusing an image with reality is a common characteristic of small children [3].
Does it really matter which of these metaphysics was correct, if any? Obviously, we know today that neither one of them was true. But the instructive point here is that it does not matter what the particular metaphysics happens to be. Both the ancient Greek traveler and the ancient Chinese traveler could still use the sun as a traveling guide in the exact same way.
Scientific models work the same way. We use them to more fully grasp, and apply to, practical needs. The better the model becomes and the more universal its application grows, the closer the model comes to being called a “theory.”
A wide application is crucial to the life of any model; the model must apply not just toward small and isolated situations, but instead to many different situations. The more general a model happens to be, the more universal it becomes. And the more universal the model is, the more universal the accompanying theory therefore becomes, and the more widely it can then be applied. But throughout this whole process of maturation, what we have is still merely a pragmatic model, a human invention. For example, we know full well that the earth is not flat. But the Flat Earth Model is still useful, because it is employed whenever we construct buildings. Locally speaking, it does not matter at all that the earth is actually a sphere. In some cases, we even go out of our way to make the earth flat where it is not in order to apply the model to practical situations.
Scientific Models vs. Religious Models
By methodological necessity, scientific arguments about the sun remove intent from the hypothesis of whom or what is hauling it across the sky, if indeed it is being hauled at all. The hypothesis that the sun is a chariot flying across the sky, on the other hand, inherently involves intent. The god responsible for the sun’s movement could arise the next morning and arbitrarily decide that he is not going to haul the sun across the sky. As anyone who has read The Iliad or The Odyssey knows, the Greek gods were very uncertain beings to rely on. When working at the level of deities, science becomes an exercise in second-guessing the supernatural. You could wake up one day to find that the sun did not go across the sky. In fact, such a thing is bound to happen in this scenario; every once in a while at least, the god would decide that he just does not want to fulfill his role. Thus, the fact that the sun has never failed to appear every morning should constitute evidence that the original model of a chariot being pulled along is dead wrong. After all, does Apollo never get sick? Does he not have to take a vacation at some point? Is he going to pull the sun around forever just because he likes us humans so very much?
Science provides the ability to consistently recreate one’s worldview, because science can recreate from scratch, through observation and experimentation, the models it previously built up. The models may not be exactly the same after reconstruction; there may be something else in the place of the current quark, for example. But whatever may end up standing in its place in the reconstruction aftermath of our hypothetical loss of accumulated knowledge will have the exact same function as a quark and behave exactly the same way. However arbitrary the basis of scientific models may be, whatever it is we have decided to call “quarks” will always be the building blocks of protons and neutrons, but never of electrons. We can rename or even shuffle existing names of the six kinds of quarks we have identified (up, down, strange, charm, bottom, and top). We can decide to arrange them differently than they are now, in order from lightest to heaviest in weight. Nothing fundamental would change; all “quarks” would continue to have opposites we call antiquarks. They will always have positive charges, complemented by the negative charges of their antiquarks, no matter what we call them.
On the other hand, imagine the drastic differences that would obtain if one tried to reconstruct a religion from scratch. What emerges is never going to be the same as what we now have. The models of science change, or are dismissed entirely, in the face of new scientific discoveries. This is how good science works. However, the basic methodology underlying the practice of science has not so much changed as it has been refined over the centuries. “Science began thousands of years ago,” writes Stenger, “and although the volume of knowledge has expanded enormously in that time, the nature and methods of science have changed little. What is often interpreted as a great paradigm shift can be more accurately described as a clarification or reformulation of principles that were previously dimly perceived” [4]. For example, even in the wake of the twentieth-century revolutions in physics that saw the success of non-deterministic quantum mechanics and Einstein's theory of relativity, the three laws of motion developed by Isaac Newton continue to work as successful predictive models. They continue to be applied in virtually every facet of modern technology. In fact, our understanding of Newton's law of gravity, F=G (m_1 m_2)/r^2, is what allowed us to fly to the moon.
Religion, on the other hand, possesses its models and nothing else. There is no discovery in religion; everything must be forced to fit into the given model at hand. Religionists must wedge all outside discoveries into their existing, supposedly changeless model, but they also cannot allow such discoveries to alter the religious model too much, or else their model ceases to be definable as a religion.
A perfect example of this practice of forcing data into a given religious model is found in the work of religious scientists like William Dembski, Michael Behe and Francis Collins, each of whom are notorious for placing the proverbial cart firmly before the horse in their approach to reconciling science and religion. It is somewhat difficult at times to believe that mathematician Dembski and biochemist Behe, the main representatives of the “Intelligent Design” movement, actually believe their own words. It seems they are both knowledgeable enough, that they both have access to the same information that all other mathematicians and biochemists have managed to understand. Yet they both sit with crossed arms and staunchly deny this readily-accessible information.
To wit: During Kitzmiller v. Dover Area School District (the 2005 legal battle over the constitutionality of teaching intelligent design in public schools that was waged in Dover, Pennsylvania), Michael Behe testified under oath that he had never seen any studies or papers that provide answers to his challenge that the immune system is “irreducibly complex” and therefore could not be the product of evolution. The response from his cross-examiner was very telling and damning to Behe’s credibility. As Judge John E. Jones III noted in his decision,
Between 1996 and 2002, various studies confirmed each element of the evolutionary hypothesis explaining the origin of the immune system. [2:31 (Miller)] In fact, on cross-examination, Professor Behe was questioned concerning his 1996 claim that science would never find an evolutionary explanation for the immune system. He was presented with fifty-eight peer-reviewed publications, nine books, and several immunology textbook chapters about the evolution of the immune system [5].Having personally read Behe’s famous book Darwin’s Black Box [6], it seems to me that Behe genuinely believed that he had hit upon something compelling, that he was not consciously lying. In this book, Behe makes several statements to the effect that no explanation, deriving from gradual evolutionary changes over time, exists for the examples of “irreducible complexity” that he lists, when in fact there were an abundance of explanations he could have easily found had he looked. Behe, who is a biochemist and not an evolutionary biologist by training, was simply unaware of the scientific literature that documents numerous robust examples in nature of organic systems undergoing functional changes during its evolution [7]. He was even unaware that the evolutionary biologist Hermann Joseph Muller, who in 1946 won the Nobel Prize for his work in biology, had already provided an evolutionary mechanism for so-called “irreducibly complex” systems six decades earlier [8].
The only thing to which we are justified in attributing this is ignorance on Behe’s part, the same sort of ignorance that religious scientist Francis Collins displays on almost every page of his bestselling book The Language of God [9]. Collins, a geneticist and proponent of a theistic framework through which to understand evolution, is simply unaware of all the scientific as well as theological work that refutes or disputes his claims. But while it may seem as though it is not possible they should be unaware of all this literature any longer, part of the blame lies on other academics in the pertinent fields, academics who do not bother to criticize the likes of Behe and Collins because of the mistaken impression that the Behes and Collins of the world are promoting their cause. More evolutionary biologists, biochemists and geneticists need to read Behe’s and Collins’ books, and they need to criticize and refute them in a mainstream capacity. They need to publicly point out that they are obviously not aware of the literature on the subject. Whereas many theistic apologists very often make arguments from ignorance, Behe and Collins seem to be making arguments from voluntary ignorance, because they have not bothered to investigate the literature that bears on their subjects.
William Dembski, on the other hand, knows his business much better than Behe. In his books and articles [10], Dembski really is knowingly cooking up claims that suit his preconceived and very dubious ideas [11]. Ultimately, the preconceived end the religious apologist wants to reach constitutes their entire motive, not a genuine regard for science and investigative honesty.
Of course, one can try to get people to imagine a wholly new religious model, to make up a religion of their own from scratch. Doing so may even result in something better than any religion we now have (then again, it is somewhat difficult to come up with something worse). When the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in early 2006 to allow the religious use of hallucinogens for a small religious group (the União do Vegetal, a fringe Christian sect) in New Mexico, they may have helped make that particular brand of religion much more popular than it previously was [12]. After all, prospective members knew they can legally get high if they came in to that church. But nevertheless, the point remains that the models of science, in their ability to consistently arrive at the same conclusions even after reconstruction of lost data, is demonstrated to be superior to the fickle models of religion.
NOTES
1. Quoted in J. Tinsley Oden, Acceptance Remarks, 1993 John von Neumann Award Winner, United States Association of Computational Mechanics Bulletin 6, no. 3 (September 1993).
2. Bureau International des Poids et Mesures (BIPM), “Unit of time (second),” The International System of Units (SI) 8th ed., 2006, Section 2.1.1.3., pp. 112-113.
3. Victor J. Stenger, Physics and Psychics: The Search for a World Beyond the Senses (Buffalo, NY: Prometheus Books, 1990), p. 233.
4. Ibid., p. 294.
5. Kitzmiller v. Dover Area School District, Federal Case No. 4:04-cv-02688-JEJ Document 342, Judge John E. Jones III presiding, filed Dec. 20, 2005. Decision, 78.
6. Michael Behe, Darwin's Black Box: The Biochemical Challenge to Evolution (New York: Free Press, 1996).
7. See Robert Dorit, review of Darwin’s Black Box by Michael Behe, American Scientist (September-October 1997); Kenneth R. Miller, Finding Darwin’s God: A Scientist’s Search for a Common Ground between God and Evolution (New York: HarperCollins, 1999); Robert T. Pennock, Tower of Babel: The Evidence Against the New Creationism (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1999), pp. 166-72, 263-72; Mark Perakh, Unintelligent Design (Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 2003); David Ussery, “Darwin’s Transparent Box: The Biochemical Evidence for Evolution,” in Matt Young and Taner Edis, eds., Why Intelligent Design Fails: A Scientific Critique of the New Creationism (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2004).
8. H.J. Muller, “Reversibility in Evolution Considered from the Standpoint of Genetics,” Biological Reviews 14 (1939): 261-80.
9. Francis S. Collins, The Language of God: A Scientist Presents Evidence for Belief (New York: Free Press, 2006). For a thorough and comprehensive refutation of Collins’ book, see George C. Cunningham, Decoding the Language of God: Can a Scientist Really Be a Believer? (Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 2009).
10. William A. Dembski, The Design Inference: Eliminating Chance Through Small Probabilities (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998); Intelligent Design: The Bridge Between Science and Theology (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1999); No Free Lunch: Why Specified Complexity Cannot Be Purchased without Intelligence (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2002).
11. For refutations of Dembski’s work, see Brandon Fitelson, Christopher Stephens and Elliott Sober, “How Not to Detect Design – Critical Notice: William A Dembski, ‘The Design Inference,’” Philosophy of Science 66, no. 3 (1999): 472-88; David Roche, “A Bit Confused: Creationism and Information Theory,” Skeptical Inquirer 25, no. 2 (2001): 40-42; Jeffery Shallit, review of No Free Lunch by William Dembski, Biosystems 66, nos. 1-2 (2002): 93-99; Victor J. Stenger, Has Science Found God? The Latest Results in the Search for Purpose in the Universe (Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 2003), pp. 99-130.
12. Religion News Blog, “High Court Sides with Church in Hallucinogenic Tea Dispute,” ReligionNewsBlog.com 21 Feb. 2006, http://www.religionnewsblog.com/13721/high-court-sides-with-church-in-hallucinogenic-tea-dispute (accessed 27 December 2011).
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Do Atheists Exercise Faith in Unbelief?

One of the most popular apologetic responses theists direct towards atheists, especially when they have been painted into a corner and have exhausted all arguments from reason and logic, is the assertion that everyone is religious, even atheists. They argue that we atheists evangelize often, and that we even have our own “prophets,” such as Christopher Hitchens, Richard Dawkins, and Robert M. Price. The argument is often hinged on the assertion that because one cannot prove there is no god, and because faith is belief without evidence (which they have at this point admitted if they are making this argument), then atheists therefore must have faith and are therefore religious. I have even heard several Christian apologists declare that “I could only be an atheist if I had more faith than I already do.” In 2004, Crossway Books published a book by Christian apologists Norman Geisler and Frank Turek entitled I Don’t Have Enough Faith to be An Atheist. This line of reasoning follows a grander theme that is usually pushed by the mainstream and prominent apologists, such as pastor Douglas Wilson of Christ Church in Moscow, Idaho. Wilson, who embarked on a debate tour with Christopher Hitchens in 2008 (excerpts of which became the 2009 documentary film Collision), actually confronted Hitchens with the following arguments:
There’s no such thing as a standard-less worldview. Every worldview has standards, express or implied, and you can’t function without appealing to those standards constantly. I want to base everything on the Bible. And if you were to say, “Why do you do that?” and I said, “Well, as it says here in Romans . . .” right? You’d say, “Wait, wait, wait, wait, I’m challenging, I’m challenging your authority; you can’t just flip to a verse,” right? Because you’d say I’m begging the question, reasoning in a circle. Well, I would say the same thing here. If a person says, “I’m going to base everything, my whole worldview, on reason,” and I would say, “Why do you want to, why do you do that,” when he turns to give me a reason, what’s he doing? He’s flipping open his Bible.
Every finite creature has to start somewhere. All of us have certain fixed axioms, and we reason from those axioms. My axioms are Christian.
This is a bizarre argument, but the motivation of those putting it forth is easily understandable. If the definition of “religious” applies equally well to believer and unbeliever alike, then who can criticize the faithful without taking on equal damage? According to Douglas Wilson, the foundations of all belief systems are chosen arbitrarily, without exception. But then we must ask: If we are all religious no matter what we believe or do not believe, then what is the designation of “religious” really supposed to mean? It would seem that, in their last-ditch effort to deflect criticism, advocates of this argument have effectively diluted their own position to the point of being meaningless. After all, if I can choose my axioms arbitrarily, then all I need do is simply choose whatever conclusion I want to arrive at, and then subsequently select the specific axioms that will get me to that desired conclusion. A case can therefore be made that such postmodern arguments are not even proposing anything of substance at all.
Apologists with this kind of postmodern bent have thus saved the village by destroying it. They are in essence admitting that their worldview is completely arbitrary. When this thinly-veiled concession is exposed, one is obliged to ask them why they are even debating atheists and agnostics in the first place. The line that “atheists exercise religious faith too” is the apologists’ way of saying: “Do not bother me. Every belief is an arbitrary positing, and every worldview grows out of that arbitrary starting point. All ideas contain their own criteria of plausibility.” This of course means that, according to them, a so-called “explanation” can be made available for everything that derives from any relative standpoint, explanations that seem plausible and probable insofar as they accord well with a given premise and reinforce it. But again, if there is in fact no objective criterion for both sides to appeal to, why are the two sides even debating? Religious apologists who take this approach (e.g., “You atheists are just doing the same thing we are, so get off our case”) only demonstrate that they rejoice to live in a bubble reality that is self-contained.
I find this apologetic approach very suicidal. Are religious believers really willing to say, “Yes, I am standing in mid-air”? Shouldn’t this concession alarm believers at least a little? Perhaps the reason alarm or caution is rarely expressed by such apologists is because most of the time they do not fully realize just what they are saying, which is: “I have made up my mind; do not confuse me with the facts. You do not have any right to try to confuse me with the facts, because you have just made up your mind arbitrarily as well.”
I hope to show clearly in this essay that this charge against atheists (and unbelievers generally) is not true. To begin, let us take as a concrete example the debate between those who criticize the authenticity and reliability of the Bible and those who affirm it as authentic and reliable. The fact of the matter is that both sides have only one thing in common, namely the spoken, working hypothesis that in order to understand the Bible, we must interpret its contents with the aid of historical background, cultural background, ancient grammar conventions, etc. Apologists for the reliability and truth of the Bible generally do not resort to allegorizing (except when they attempt to harmonize discordant and contradictory texts in the Bible). They claim to be restricting themselves to the evidence presented by the text, just as the critics are doing. There, I would contend, we do have legitimate grounds for debate. But what do the apologists actually do when we go beyond claims and examine their practice? They very often attempt to short-circuit the entire critical process and, by dragging their presuppositions into the discussion, fail to appeal to any real historical method. It is my contention that it is merely a pretense on the apologists’ part when they express interest in studying biblical texts with controllable and objective methods.
It must be emphasized that this is not what us critics of Christianity and religious theism in general are doing. This issue almost never fails to surface in debates surrounding Thomas Kuhn’s great book The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (1962, rev. eds. 1970, 1996), in which Kuhn makes the point that all revolutions in scientific thinking are not so much matters of discovering new data (though, of course, this does happen), as they are matters of creating new paradigms, new heuristic hypotheses that are imposed upon the data to see what sense these hypotheses can make of the data, to see if they will render hitherto anomalous and puzzling data newly intelligible. This is very similar to the concept of the hermeneutical circle which was developed and formulated by philosopher Martin Heidegger and which the prominent German theologian Rudolf Bultmann adopted in his interpretations of the Bible. The “hermeneutical circle” describes a process by which a text is approached with a series of questions that the one studying it wants the text to answer. As one reads and interacts with the text, the questions may have to be adjusted. The student of the text may realize that she is barking up the wrong tree, that the author was not interested in what she is asking of the text. What is the author writing about? Once expectations are adjusted, that which the author is actually saying starts to make much more sense.
This is the way historical texts are always approached by scholars who know what they are doing. The late philosopher-historian R.G. Collingwood argued that this must be the precedent in all historical methods [1]. A fact is only a fact given a particular frame of reference, and this frame of reference is defined as an initial sketch of what is historically plausible in the situation that is being studied, whether we are studying the Civil War, Genghis Khan or Jesus Christ. The historian develops a tentative sketch to see what sense it will make out of the data at hand. If the tentative sketch makes no sense of the data, then the historian must go back to the drawing board. This method is always being applied at all steps in the study of history.
In The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, Kuhn eventually begins to compare paradigm shifts to religious conversion, since the data that occasions paradigm shifts is construed from within:
The man who embraces a new paradigm at an early stage must often do so in defiance of the evidence provided by problem-solving. He must, that is, have faith that the new paradigm will succeed with the many large problems that confront it, knowing only that the older paradigm has failed with a few. A decision of that kind can only be made on faith.
. . . But crisis alone is not enough. There must also be a basis, though it need be neither rational nor ultimately correct, for faith in the particular candidate chosen. Something must make at least a few scientists feel that the new proposal is on the right track, and sometimes it is only personal and inarticulate aesthetic considerations that can do that. Men have been converted by them at times when most of the articulable technical arguments pointed the other way. When first introduced, neither Copernicus’ astronomical theory nor De Broglie’s theory of matter had many other significant grounds of appeal. Even today Einstein’s general theory attracts men principally on aesthetic grounds, an appeal that few people outside of mathematics have been able to feel [2].
But Kuhn is jumping to unwarranted conclusions on this point; his own argument implies that paradigm-switching involves much more than what can be reduced to the concept of religious conversion. Paradigms are in fact preferable if we can show that a paradigm interprets the data in question in a more economical manner, without adding unnecessary epicycles (a term drawn from Ptolemaic astronomy). We should not cringe in embarrassment to embrace a given paradigm, if that paradigm involves less multiplying of ancillary hypotheses and reduces the addition of ad-hoc factors, e.g., My interpretation would work if x was true or if y was true. What reason is there to think that x is true or y is true? Answering that “The reason for thinking they are true is the help they would be to my paradigm” is unacceptable. A good paradigm must make simple and economical sense of the data, and as much sense as possible without reading in hidden assumptions and variables. Whoever supplies such a paradigm is the current winner, and the hope of the current winner should be that if there exists any data that does not fit within it, someone will revise or replace his paradigm. Thus, the point of bringing into focus a successful new paradigm is not to claim credit for it and copyright it. The point is to advance the discussion. Competent historians and scientists cannot have hobbyhorse favorites. Some do, but they are being bad scientists, bad historians, bad literary critics, etc. Favoritism towards particular paradigms does not even help anybody’s agenda. It cannot be emphasized enough that the correct question to ask is “What would make most sense of the data?”
This is precisely why Creationism, for example, is not science. From the very get-go, it cannot be science, because Creationists are not simply looking at the data and inductively trying to construe it in such a way that it makes sense. Rather, they are insisting that the data be forced to fit within an alien paradigm, namely Biblical Cosmology. The late independent scholar Immanuel Velikovsky is famous for committing this fallacy with other ancient writings [3].
Thus, there is an objective and over-arching criterion to attain to; there is no point whatsoever in simply believing anything arbitrarily, because the criteria do exist. Of course, all these criteria are probabilistic. The ultimate truth might possibly be something that is wildly improbable, as well as something that cannot be arrived at by any means. But this possibility should lead us to agnosticism, not fideism. The probabilistic nature of all objective criteria does not entitle us to assert that since we cannot really ascertain deep questions empirically, we are justified in just choosing to believe x.
The approach of the religious apologist who is committed to defending the texts of the New Testament as a reliable record of truth can usually be summed up as follows: “We cannot really be sure that the original New Testament manuscripts, the autographs, read the same way then as we read them now, because there is no real evidence that goes back that early. Therefore, let us just assume that our copies are accurate and proceed from there.” The fact that this apologetic approach is widely used is indication that religious faith has replaced a proper agnosticism, which is understandable from a psychological point of view. After all, nothing can be done with agnosticism in the picture. The jig is up, and we cannot play the game anymore.
And if the game cannot be played anymore for certain issues, it is time the apologists concede that we just cannot play it. Apologists have been abusing postmodernism for far too long, using it as an excuse to say, “Do not confuse me with the facts” in a way that is disguised by what might seem to be clever and sophisticated language.
Faith as Ultimate Concern
Having established all this, I will say that there is a point to the claim that atheists can be religious, but only within a very specific context that evades traditional definitions of “faith.” I refer especially to faith as defined by the late Paul Tillich, the Christian existentialist philosopher who is considered one of the most influential theologians of the 20th century. In his book Dynamics of Faith (1957), Tillich argues that “faith” should not be understood as meaning belief in a certain list of items, such as historical claims that cannot be corroborated. Credulity, says Tillich, should be distinguished from faith, as should the attempt to force oneself to believe something. Deep down, the one forcing belief in uncorroborated claims knows at some level that they are acting arbitrarily. Besides this, such people are brainwashing themselves whether they realize it or not at any subconscious level. Tillich insists that this is not faith.
Faith, according to Tillich, is being grasped at the deepest level by a particular question or concern:
Faith is the state of being ultimately concerned: the dynamics of faith are the dynamics of man’s ultimate concern. Man, like every living being, is concerned about many things, above all about those which condition his very existence, such as food and shelter. But man, in contrast to other living beings, has spiritual concerns – cognitive, aesthetic, social, political. Some of them are urgent, often extremely urgent, and each of them as well as the vital concerns can claim ultimacy for a human life or the life of a social group. If it claims ultimacy it demands the total surrender of him who accepts this claim, and it promises total fulfillment even if all other claims have to be subjected to it or rejected in its name [4].
This ultimate concern can be the historical Jesus, for example. Having ultimate concern for the subject of Jesus’ historicity does not necessitate having a positive opinion on the matter (i.e., that Jesus was a real historical figure). This ultimate concern can also be concentrated on the question of the existence of God. It is difficult to think of anyone who was more exercised over the question of God than Madalyn Murray O’Hair. That was her ultimate concern, yet she did not believe God exists. Her ultimate concern, her Tillichian faith object, was to combat the delusion that God is real, a concern that I personally applaud.
Tillich is claiming that only the apathetic hedonist (whose sole response to the question of God’s existence is a shrug and a “whatever”) has no ultimate concern. Such a person is an atheist, if only implicitly, and really does lack faith of any kind. But if one is concerned about anything, even if it is unworthy of concern, that state of being ultimately concerned with it is faith. Tillich was not trying to get away with anything by sly apologetic maneuvers with this argument. He is simply interested in cutting the pie differently. He has often been accused of being an atheist himself! He is not attempting to claim that unbelievers are or have the potential to become some sort of Anonymous Christian, as the Jesuit theologian Karl Rahner argued [5]. Rahner’s point was a very different sort of claim, one that is liable to be confused as being similar or identical to Tillich’s points.
On the other hand, there is at least some justification in saying that militant atheists who are overzealous to deconvert religious people are displaying a kind of quasi-religious zeal. I concede this point with some reservation and a few caveats, since “militant atheism” can only be designated as such if the militant atheist is interested in much more than simply provoking religious believers to question their worldview, which is all I as an atheist am “militantly” interested in. Still, there are atheists who heavily politicize their unbelief, and it is this camp that can arguably be said to be playing the same game as the devoutly religious, and that they have merely switched teams. There is an irony in that which I personally would like to avoid, as much as I would love to see people reject the delusion that is theistic religion.
Do Atheists Exercise Faith?
Finally, let us address directly the question of whether “faith” in the conventional, traditional sense of the word is required in order to be an atheist (e.g., Bertrand Russell said it, I believe it, that settles it!). I do not doubt that there are indeed nuts like this out there. But atheism, properly construed and understood, cannot accurately be caricatured in this way. Atheists such as myself generally approach the God debate by saying that, on a strictly theoretical basis, there could be a God. But we also understand that on the same theoretical basis, there could be four-armed Tharks living on Mars outside the range of our telescopes. Having granted this, I do not see any reason to take that possibility seriously.
I approach the question of God in the same way. My working hypothesis is that no god exists. Likewise, I do not see any reason to take the existence of Zeus seriously, either. Why should I? This is what atheism properly defined implies. Technically, what I am describing is agnosticism. But when the term “agnostic” is used as a qualifier by us atheists, we almost always use it to mean, as the late 19th century philosopher William James put it, that belief in God remains a live option:
Let us give the name of hypothesis to anything that may be proposed to our belief; and just as the electricians speak of live and dead wires, let us speak of any hypothesis as either live or dead. A live hypothesis is one which appeals as a real possibility to him to whom it is proposed . . .
A living option [the decision between two hypotheses] is one in which both hypotheses are live ones. If I say to you: “Be a theosophist or be a Mohammedan,” it is probably a dead option, because for you neither hypothesis is likely to be alive. But if I say: “Be an agnostic or be a Christian,” it is otherwise: trained as you are, each hypothesis makes some appeal, however small, to your belief [6].
In the case of the God Hypothesis, the rational appeal is very small, but it remains a live option nevertheless. If there is indeed any reason to believe in God, it simply has not been made definitive, and we are therefore stuck where we are. As an atheist, I do not claim to know what the case is, only that there is currently insufficient evidence to suggest that any god exists.
The 19th century English biologist Thomas Henry Huxley (who is credited with first coining the term “agnostic”) understood agnosticism in much the same way:
Agnosticism . . . is not a creed, but a method, the essence of which lies in the rigorous application of a single principle . . . Positively the principle may be expressed: In matters of the intellect, follow your reason as far as it will take you, without regard to any other consideration. And negatively: In matters of the intellect, do not pretend that conclusions are certain which are not demonstrated or demonstrable [7].
This is a principle that gives much credit to the possibility of God, nothing more. The atheist therefore does not exercise faith. Speaking for myself, I find that I simply cannot take the concept of god seriously; again, I have not been able to find any reason to believe that any god exists. Technically, a god may really exist. But on a theoretical level, who really knows? We are all agnostic whether we admit it or not, whether we be agnostic atheists or agnostic theists. Nobody can sanely claim to know everything about the universe, but does this mean that I as an atheist have any reason, pragmatic or otherwise, to think a god exists? The answer is no, and I am currently in no position to be able to give any credit to the God hypothesis.
This is not a faith posture on my part. Any apologist who tries to construe it as such is just a spin doctor. Not only that, but once again they will find themselves cutting off the limb they are sitting on by their implication that all beliefs are equally and completely arbitrary. In fact, I am indebted to the apologist who wants to move forward with that argument, because he or she will only win the debate for me.
Notes
1. R.G. Collingwood. The Idea of History. Revised Edition. Ed. Jan Van Der Dussen. New York: Oxford University Press, 1994.
2. Thomas S. Kuhn. The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Third Edition. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1996, p. 158.
3. Immanuel Velikovsky. Worlds in Collision. New York: The Macmillan Company, 1950.
4. Paul Tillich. Dynamics of Faith. New York: Harper & Brothers Publishers, 1957, p. 1.
5. “Anonymous Christianity means that a person lives in the grace of God and attains salvation outside of explicitly constituted Christianity . . . Let us say, a Buddhist monk . . . who, because he follows his conscience, attains salvation and lives in the grace of God; of him I must say that he is an anonymous Christian; if not, I would have to presuppose that there is a genuine path to salvation that really attains that goal, but that simply has nothing to do with Jesus Christ. But I cannot do that. And so, if I hold if everyone depends upon Jesus Christ for salvation, and if at the same time I hold that many live in the world who have not expressly recognized Jesus Christ, then there remains in my opinion nothing else but to take up this postulate of an anonymous Christianity” (Karl Rahner, Karl Rahner in Dialogue: Conversations and Interviews 1965 – 1982. Eds. Paul Imhof and Hubert Biallowons. Trans. Harvey D. Egans. New York: Crossroad Publishing Company, 1986, p. 135).
6. William James (1896). “The Will to Believe.” Essays on Faith and Morals. Ed. Ralph Barton Perry. Cleveland, OH: The World Publishing Company, 1962, pp. 33-34.
7. Thomas H. Huxley, F.R.S. (1889). “Agnosticism.” Essays Upon Some Controverted Questions. London: Macmillan and Co., 1892, p. 362. The complete text of this essay is also available online at http://www.infidels.org/library/historical/thomas_huxley/huxley_wace/part_02.html.





