Thursday, January 15, 2009

On Science and Knowledge, Part II

The Problem of Induction


Most objections to science come from people who have heard of the Problem of Induction, but don't understand it. Put simply, it is the observation that nothing empirical (that is, existing in the material universe) can be known with certainty. People who subscribe to a philosophical concept called solipsism insist that the only thing that can ever be known is self. That is, I can never know for certain that anything besides myself exists. In fact, I can never know exactly what I am, only that I am. This is sometimes referred to as the “Brain in a Vat” theory. That is, we might simply be brains in vats, and that everything we perceive of as reality is an intricate illusion.


This supposed problem is not nearly as difficult to resolve as you might immediately suppose. For one thing, there's an obvious issue with the “Brain in a Vat.” Even if it is true (and we can't conclusively prove that it's not) we cannot help the fact that we can't test the idea in any way. If we are trapped in an illusion, then we are trapped, and the illusion, for every conceivable purpose which we might have, is real.


Furthermore, if there is some evidence that we are brains in a vat, the theory becomes testable. If we discovered a “tear in the Matrix,” for lack of a better term, we could scientifically study it, and if there was enough evidence to sway our opinion to the conclusion, it would no longer be in the realm of philosophy. It would be scientific fact.


We must, it appears, conclude that all the available evidence suggests that reality is what it appears to be, that other people exist, that our senses are basically reliable, and that through rigorous testing, we can verify the reliability of our observations.


Nevertheless, some will argue that even granting the reality of this existence, the fact that science cannot prove anything with certainty negates the value of science. This is clearly absurd, and we can prove it with the somewhat tedious examples I gave in the previous section. When provided with overwhelming evidence – the actual photo in question, in this instance – we can say with virtual certainty that a thing is a fact. We can clearly demonstrate that some sets of evidence are stronger than others, and that for all practical purposes, science does have measurable value.


Finally, (and forgive me for getting a little bit technical) scientific certainty isn't based on guesswork. It's based on deduction. Math is deductively true. That is, it is 100% certain. Probability equations are math, and therefore, based on deduction. When we can say with mathematical certainty that a thing is 50% certain, for example, it is certainly 50% certain. What we cannot say is that the two things we're assigning probability to are 100% certain. However, as we've seen, we can be so overwhelmingly sure that there's no point in questioning them.


Consider this very simple example. Suppose that I am in a soundproof room (and suppose that I have used science to prove with overwhelming certainty that it really is soundproof) and there are only four things in the room – three boxes and me. The boxes are all across the room from me, and there is a noise coming from that general direction. With no other information at all, I can say that I am scientifically certain that the noise comes from one of the three boxes.*  However, at this point, any box I pick is only 33% likely to be the correct box. Now, suppose I ask an assistant to remove one of the boxes that is not making the noise. Now, I have a 50% likelihood of guessing correctly. If the assistant removes another box, and the noise persists, I can be 100% certain that the box is making the noise, even without doing any more experiments.


Here's where we need to be sure to separate empiricism from probability. I cannot be 100% certain that I am standing in a room, or that if I am standing in the room, I am not the subject of some elaborate hoax, or that I am not suffering from a hallucination. As I've shown, I can find ways to be so certain that it would be absurd to suggest otherwise, but to be pedantic, I am only nearly certain. However, if reality is what it appears to be, it is 100% certain that there is a 33% chance of each box being the source of the noise. In other words, once we have decided to trust our senses, we can invoke mathematical certainty and be completely certain of the numbers.


In many cases, this is what science attempts to do. When there are multiple possible explanations, scientists try to eliminate as many as possible. If they can do this successfully, and only one explanation remains, they can feel certain that it is the correct one. At every step of the scientific process, everything is questioned, tested, and retested. Nothing is ever assumed until it is demonstrated to be so certain that it is worth assuming. Even then, scientists are perfectly happy to concede that new information could exist which would change their conclusion.


However, it's important to note that there is also a way to calculate the probability of this happening. Suppose that science has observed a phenomenon thoroughly, and has determined that it has happened one hundred thousand times, and in all cases, it happened in exactly the same way. Furthermore, the explanation of the phenomenon made it logically necessary that a certain other phenomenon happen in a very particular way, and that has been observed a hundred thousand times, without incident. Now, suppose that there is a chain of events, where there are a hundred thousand things that would logically have to happen a certain way, and all hundred thousand have been observed a hundred thousand times, without a single instance of deviation.


How likely is it that the logic is wrong? How possible is it that our predictions are wrong, and that there is some other explanation for our observation of all of these events? Obviously, it's staggeringly improbable. It's so improbable that without any other reason to believe otherwise, we can say that this is a fact of nature. Again, this is what science attempts to do – demonstrate things so many times that certainty becomes nearly complete – so nearly complete that it becomes unnecessary to provide a disclaimer because of the “Problem of Induction.”



Religious Claims


Theists everywhere claim that they receive their “truths” about the universe from a source other than science. They must, for science contradicts the claims of the religious. Any wonder that theists claim that science is incapable of addressing the questions of religion? Unfortunately, this is simply not true, and a careful examination of religious claims will prove it.


When a Christian claims to know something about the nature of God, where is he getting his information? There are several possibilities. One of the most common sources is the Bible. Also, many claim to have “heard the voice of God” in one way or another. Perhaps they got a strong intuitive feeling about something. Perhaps they heard a voice in their head. Perhaps there was an event in their life that led them to believe that God was manipulating events in order to “send them a message,” or reward or punish them. Perhaps they heard the testimony of hundreds, or even thousands of people claiming to have evidence of God's nature. Perhaps they were swayed by the fact that millions of people share a belief in the Christian God.


Here, we must ask a pointed question. What do all of these circumstances have in common? Quite simply, they are all empirical evidence for God's existence! Evidence, as we have seen already, is nothing more and nothing less than bits of data for our brain to interpret. All of these bits of data that Christians mention when asked about their belief in God are just that – bits of data. Like any other pieces of data, they have a certain degree of reliability.


Without laboriously dissecting each category of evidence, let's just admit the obvious. Only a few minutes ago, you certainly agreed with me that taking my word about something was basically useless as reliable evidence. Without reliable physical proof of my photo, you would be unwilling to bet ten thousand dollars that you could guess its subject. If you think about it for a moment (without thinking too much about God) you will quickly realize that testimony is only good when there is a reason to believe it.


As for internal “feelings,” we can make the same observation. Everyone has had feelings that turned out to be wrong. Without other reliable evidence, feelings are not good enough. Likewise, we have all seen things that were highly coincidental, but turned out to be just that – coincidence. Finally, it should be patently obvious that a book is nothing more than a written version of someone's testimony, which we already established as unreliable.


Having laid bare the truth about religious claims of knowledge, we see that they are false on two counts. First, they are not relying on non-empirical claims. Quite the contrary. Every bit of “proof” is based on something that they observed in the material world with one of their senses. Second, none of their evidence passes muster as reliable. Instead, each one is inherently untrustworthy, and easily proven to be so. Does this prove that Christians are wrong about the existence of their God? No, it does not. However, it does expose a very nasty truth about it: There is absolutely no good evidence for it.


If you remember the first example of science that I gave you, you will realize that the claims of God's existence are as outlandish as the claim of alien spacecraft or space stations from Andromeda. None of the three have any basis for certainty, and as we have seen, the question is most certainly not outside of the realm of science. In fact, it is absolutely impossible NOT to use science to answer questions. The only question is whether or not we will use science that is reliable.


This last point is important enough that we shall linger on it for another moment. As I said, science is nothing more and nothing less than the description of how we learn about the universe. There is no way for us to avoid processing evidence and reaching conclusions. The only question is whether our methods will be testable, repeatable, and verifiable. Like any other method, science can be done well, or done poorly. Scientists have spent hundreds of years using deductive logic, empirical evidence, and inductive reasoning to refine and perfect the methodology of science, to the point that well trained scientists can achieve astoundingly accurate information about the world. Scientists are always willing to admit that they are not 100% certain of their conclusions, but if they are good scientists, they will also be quick to point out that there is a degree of certainty to their conclusions that is extremely reliable – so reliable that you can bet everything you own on it and be assured of winning.



Back To Religion


Having established that it is literally impossible not to do science, we must return to the question of religion and how it perverts and degrades science. Remember, every conclusion about the world is scientific. The only distinction is whether the conclusion was reached by using good science or bad science. In the case of religion, it is unquestionably the result of bad science. (Think about it. If it was good science, scientists would call it scientific, right?)


By separating itself from good science, religion is admitting conclusively that its conclusions are at best unreliable and at worst completely wrong. This is not a trivial matter. As we are all too aware, religious conclusions are used in everyday life in all walks of life. In politics, they can be bitterly divisive. In classrooms, they blur the lines of separation between church and state. In the homes, they are used to teach moral and sexual norms. What possible reason can we come up with for allowing conclusions that are admittedly suspect at best from being the default conclusions, simply because they are religious.


The answer that is most often given, at least in my experience, is that religion is not addressed by science. Unfortunately, as I have just demonstrated, it most certainly is. There is no basis for the claim that knowledge can be gained any way except through empirical observation and inductive conclusions. In fact, when the religious are pressed, we notice that they never describe in any meaningful way what method they use for gaining knowledge of God. They can't, for if they did, they would be admitting to scientific scrutiny.



The Cult of Credulity


Now, I wish to leave Christianity for a moment and focus on other areas of American life. Several years before I began writing this blog, America invaded Iraq, based on the testimony of a president and his cabinet whose political motives could hardly be described as morally pure. Though the signs of deceit were everywhere, Americans followed blindly into a war that has cost tens of thousands (perhaps hundreds of thousands) of lives. The best evidence for this decision was a dubious link between Sadaam Hussein and Al Qaeda, and equally dubious evidence of “weapons of mass destruction.”


It's easy to look at this in hindsight and say that we were deceived, and that it is the fault of the president and his political cronies. It may comfort us to say that it is not our responsibility, but the cold facts are a little less rosy. As a nation, we are credulous. We believe that sending money to faith healers will cure cancer. We believe that three sentence blurbs in newspapers have personal relevance to us based upon where the stars were positioned in the sky when we were born. We believe that humans are not just animals, but creatures placed on earth by God, and given authority over the whole earth. We believe that Global Warming isn't a problem. We believe that love is unconditional and that marriage is supposed to last forever. We believe that psychics can tell us where lost babies can be found. We believe that we can talk to our dead relatives through mediums, if only we use the correct crystals while summoning spiritual energy. We believe that God loves us more than the Muslims.


In short, Americans are an incredibly gullible people. To be fair, the same can be said for most of the people on earth, but Americans are, in many ways, uniquely gullible. We are the only nation in the civilized world that actually considers teaching children that the earth is six thousand years old. This is a symptom of a larger problem, and that problem, I believe, is the notion that “Faith is a Virtue.”


Faith, or rather, the belief in things that defy evidence, is the source of thousands of bizarre beliefs. Regardless of the scientific explanation for it, the reality is that people really, really want to believe in a lot of nonsense. The question we must ask ourselves is whether or not that desire is enough justification for allowing a culture to continue down the path of unscientific conclusions. We can clearly see that things which are “natural” are not necessarily good. We cannot assume that our natural inclination to credulity is good, either. In fact, it should be patently obvious that it's harmful.


Since there is no way to gain knowledge except through science, we can ask the question very simply. Which is more likely to give us correct answers: Good science, or Bad science? The answer is so patently obvious that we wonder why everyone doesn't know it. My explanation is that our culture teaches two blatantly false ideas. First, we teach that science is just “one way” to get correct answers. Second, we teach that science is dangerous because it threatens the “human spirit” or that it encourages immoral conclusions about government or personal ethics. I believe I have sufficiently demonstrated the ridiculous nature of the first claim. The second will require a lot more information to dispel, but that is what I intend to do. Having established that science is the only way to learn true information about the universe, we must try to learn what science says about human morality, and if we can, determine whether or not science really does lead us down a path to moral depravity and the devaluation of human life.


The Alternative


We must return to something I mentioned in the first paragraphs of this chapter. Namely, I want to address the claim that I'm attempting to take all the imagination and fun out of life by making it all about cold hard science. I hope it's already becoming clear that this is absurd. Imagination and fun are part of the human experience. There are perfectly good scientific explanations for why we have imaginations, and why fun is important to us, and these often end up telling us things about how we came to be human in the first place. Will the knowledge of what makes “fun” fun make it any less fun? Of course not, any more than having a degree in linguistics makes a great novel any less entertaining. Knowledge adds to the human experience, and those who say that it makes life cold are either ignorant of the true nature of science, or afraid science will render their own view of life irrational.


By examining all aspects of what it means to be human, I hope to give you the freedom and the knowledge to make your own life better, and perhaps happier. By dispelling myths that have been hanging over us for centuries, I hope to give you more options for how to have a fulfilling and meaningful life. In fact, I can assure you that the only option I intend to take away is the option to accept bad science as good science and feel good about it.



* To be truly scientific, I would need to eliminate the possibility that multiple boxes were emitting noise or that through some effect or combination of effects, more than one box was working in concert to produce a single noise.  In science, before we can say we are certain, we must eliminate all potential rival theories.  For this example, however, I assumed a rather simple scheme for illustration purposes.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

On Science and Knowledge, Part I

I have often mentioned the subtle danger inherent in toleration of moderate religion. In short, the most insidious aspect of moderate religion is that it not only permits, but encourages, belief in things which are not supported by evidence. At first, this may not seem like such a bad thing. Many cultural traditions involve harmless (and even fun) promotion of things that are not “scientific.” There are probably hundreds of thousands of people who look back at their childhood years with fondness, remembering the excitement they felt at the thought of a midnight visit from Santa Claus. Millions of people worldwide check their daily horoscope, and they live perfectly functional lives. Despite cases like this, I believe it's crucially necessary to draw a cultural divide between that which is credible, and that which is mythical.


Before making my case, it is important for me to mention that I am not advocating a world without imagination, nor am I suggesting that we all live in a cold, calculating world of probability and detached analysis. In fact, what I'm proposing is the exact opposite in many ways. Even so, my critics will surely play the standard card, accusing me of attempting to rob their lives of any meaning or joy. Of course, the final judgment is to be made by you, the reader, but it is important to me that you understand my intentions at the beginning so that perhaps, if you are prone to making such accusations, you will suspend sentence until you have absorbed my entire argument.


What is Science?


The first step in dismantling the power of religion is to establish the power of science. There are many misconceptions, particularly in America, about not only what science is, but what it can do, and why it is certainly reliable. There is a perceived battle between science and religion, and much to the chagrin of the religious, the whole thing is a sham. The war has long since been won, and much like the stereotypical southern Good Ol' Boy with a confederate flag on the back window of his pick-up truck, many a religious man persists in believing that there is still something to fight over.


Science, very simply, is a process. It is a method, like math or logic. More precisely, it is the method for learning about our universe. Contrary to popular belief, it is not the sole milieu of trained academics and stodgy old men with glasses. Science is practiced by everyone on the planet on a daily basis. In fact – and this is a crucial point – it is impossible to avoid using science.


A simple way to learn the scientific method is to perform a series of thought experiments. Let's start at the very beginning. Imagine that you are walking along a road, and you spot an object on the sidewalk. It is metallic, roughly circular, and covered with a sticky black substance. Now suppose you decide that you want to know what it is. The first thing you are likely to do is pick it up. Imagine that when you do, you discover that it is very hot – so hot, in fact, that you are unable to hold it for very long. Out of sheer reflex, you drop it again.


At this point, we have quite a bit of data to work with. First, we have a physical description of the thing, and we have verified, as well as possible, that our eyes reported approximately accurate information to our brain. From picking the object up, we've learned that the object feels like it looks. It does indeed feel metallic. It has a heft that we would expect from metal. In short, we now have corroborating evidence – feel and touch – to help us decide what it might be.


If you will forgive the pedantic nature of this next observation, I promise it will be worthwhile. Picking the object up is a very important step in our little science experiment. We have all learned that our eyes are often not reliable sources of information. Not only are they often fooled, but many substances look very much like other substances, even though they are quite different. We might very well have discovered that the object, which gave every appearance of being metallic, was actually styrofoam covered with metallic paint. The simple act of verifying our initial observation with a second kind of observation is crucial to science.


Now, after you have dropped the very hot object, you make a third observation. When you put your fingers near your face, you notice a distinct smell that you recognize as that of burning motor oil. This new data puts an idea into your head. Perhaps this object is part of a car, and has recently been expelled from a running engine, landing on the sidewalk only a few moments earlier. In support of this idea, we have the following set of data:


  • Metallic object

  • Much hotter than expected from the current weather

  • Appears to be mechanically crafted

  • Appears to be covered with oil

  • Found very near a road


By itself, any one of these pieces of data might not be enough to reasonably conclude that the object is a car part, or that it was recently in a running car. However, when you put all of the information together, it seems a reasonable conclusion. Now, suppose that as you look up, you see a disabled car about fifty feet ahead, and a man working under the hood. At this point, you will probably feel confident enough to take the object to the man, certain that you have found something he needs. If, having done so, you watch him place the object back into his engine, in a space that appears specifically designed for it, you can leave satisfied of the facts.


Removing the details, what can we say has happened here in terms of general principles? First, you encountered something unknown. Second, you made multiple observations. Third, you tested the observations against one another for consistency. Fourth, you made a guess, based on your observations, about a likely explanation for the unknown object. Finally, you devised a test to determine if your guess was correct.


This, in a nutshell, is the scientific method. There's nothing magical about it, and certainly nothing requiring years of education. In fact, without consciously thinking about it, you performed the steps in exactly the correct order! The reason for this is that the correct order is the order that works and you intuitively knew it.


For comparison, let's try thinking of ways in which you could have deviated from the scientific method and reasonably hoped to get the correct answer. Is there any way that you could have looked at the object without recording the observation as data in your brain? Unlikely, to be sure. Could you pick it up without noticing the texture, temperature, or weight? Again, no. In short, there's no way to avoid recording empirical data about the world. Simply by interacting with the world, we are collecting evidence.


Likewise, if a pattern emerges from your observations, it is entirely unreasonable to suggest that our brain will not try to subconsciously make sense of it. That's what brains do. The process of forming guesses about patterns is ingrained in our consciousness, and cannot be avoided. It is the way we think. Literally. 


Very simply, the scientific method is just the expression of what we as humans unavoidably do. We make observations and predictions based on patterns of information. Now, let us do another thought experiment about the same situation. Suppose that after having gathered all your data about the mystery object, you decided that the object was likely a piece of debris from an alien spacecraft. Would that guess be a good one? There are obviously several problems with it. First, nobody on earth has ever produced an alien spacecraft for observation, so it's hard to test the idea. Second, unless alien spacecraft are invisible, there would be considerable evidence against the notion. Local radar, observations of other people, and satellite imagery could all demonstrate rather conclusively that no alien spacecraft were in the vicinity in the recent past. In short, there is a mountain of evidence against the guess.


Furthermore, there are clearly better guesses. Anyone noticing the broken down car could hazard a guess that makes more sense to the circumstances. In fact, a simple test will tell us whether this guess is accurate or not. If the man didn't actually need the part, and it didn't fit anywhere in his car, we would have to perhaps refine our guess. Perhaps it was from another car, which didn't suffer badly enough to stop running when the part was ejected. Perhaps it's from a riding lawnmower. (If there was a John Deere store in the vicinity, this guess would gain more credibility.)


Suppose now that after guessing that the part was from the broken down car, you tested your hypothesis by asking the man working on it, and it turned out that the part was not from that car. Has science failed us? Of course not! We have simply ruled out one possibility. The part might still be from a car. We could easily take it to an auto parts store and compare it with their inventory. If we found an identical part, we could be sure of it's identity. If, having tried several auto mechanics and auto stores, we were unable to find anyone with knowledge of cars who recognized the object, we would be forced to conclude that, barring any new information, the object was not from a car.


At this point, we could try various machine shops and manufacturing plants, repeating the same set of tests, until eventually, we correctly identified the object. This, again, is precisely what the scientific method prescribes. When we rule out one possibility, we keep looking for as long as it takes to find enough evidence to say what something is, or how it works. Here, we may ask a very pointed question. Supposing that we exhaust all of the known avenues for identifying the object, and we have still not determined its true nature. What is the correct answer to the question: “What is it?”


The answer, of course, is “I don't know.” This seems patently obvious, but it's astonishing how many times people forget this simple bit of logic. Suppose that, having exhausted our resources, we still had no evidence for what the object was. Would it be correct to say that since there was no evidence for its nature, that it must surely be part of an interstellar space station from the Andromeda Galaxy? Of course it wouldn't! In fact, it would be preposterously wrong to suggest such a thing, since the very result of our search demonstrated that there was no evidence for what the thing was!


It should be obvious at this point that whenever we don't have evidence for something, there's no way to form a reliable guess about its nature. However, just to drive the point home conclusively, let's do one more thought experiment. I have, on my desk at this moment, a picture of something. What is it?


Clearly, you have no idea. Perhaps, through random chance, you will guess the subject of the picture correctly, but it's highly unlikely. The only thing you know is that the subject can be rendered in picture form. You don't even know for certain that it exists on earth. Perhaps it is a photo of a far away galaxy, or of the upper atmosphere on Mars. (You don't even know if it's a photograph. Perhaps it's a drawing of something imaginary!) The point is that with no evidence, there is absolutely no way to make any kind of guess about what a thing is.


Suppose I ask you to now make a bet with me. If you guess correctly, you get ten thousand dollars, but if you guess wrong, you owe me ten thousand dollars, immediately. Unless you are a complete fool, you wouldn't dream of taking the bet, and for good reason. You have virtually no chance of winning. Now, suppose I gave you more information. Suppose I told you that it is a photograph of a baseball helmet. Would you be comfortable making the bet now? Probably not. If I added more information, and told you that it was a helmet from a Major League team, you would still only have a slim chance of guessing it – Far less than fifty-fifty, at any rate. However, if I told you that it was either a Chicago Cubs helmet or an Atlanta Braves helmet, you might feel sufficiently brave to take the bet.


Now, imagine that I told you that it's a photo of a Chicago Cubs helmet, and then asked you to make the bet with me. You'd be a fool not to take it, right? Or, would you? If you examined the evidence carefully, you'd realize that all you had to go on was my word. In fact, I would have a very strong motivation to tell you something inaccurate, so the weight of my testimony is almost nil. However, if I invited you over to my house and showed you the photo, allowing you to examine it to your heart's content, you would then have enough evidence to confidently take my bet.


This, again, is a step by step explanation for how (and why) science works. Some evidence is more reliable than others, and certainty can be measured in degrees. Imagine that I invite three people to make the same bet with me, and give each one a different set of evidence. To the first person, I say only that I have a picture of something. To the second, I say that I have a photo of a Major League baseball helmet. To the third, I provide the photograph itself. Each one of these three people, if forced to make a bet, has a certain likelihood of getting it right. The first person's chance is virtually zero. In fact, we could probably let him take thousands of guesses with confidence that he would not get it right. The second person, on the other hand, would certainly guess it within thirty tries, since that is the number of teams in Major League Baseball. The third person, unless he was monumentally stupid, would guess right on the first try. Though we cannot be 100% certain of his guess, it's fair to say that for all practical purposes, he will win ten thousand dollars in the next few seconds.


All of this, I hope, seems really straightforward and simple. Perhaps it is even insultingly so. However, it is apparently something that needs to be drilled into a lot of heads. The number of times I have had to defend the scientific method against other “sources of truth” is staggering. In fact, I have no doubt that there are many people who, upon reading this, will still cling to the idea that science isn't the only way to get knowledge.



Stay Tuned for Part II, in which I will spend more time on the notion of "alternatives" to science, the nature of religious claims, and the "Cult of Credulity."


Tuesday, January 13, 2009

The Anthropic Principle -- Not So Scary After All

Christians will often say, "The universe cannot possibly have been created in exactly this way without intelligent design."  The most common way to refute this is to trot out the anthropic principle, which essentially points out that our existence only proves that our existence is possible.  For whatever reason, this refutation, though perfectly sound logically, seems to come up short on emotional impact.

I want to look at this in a little bit more detail to give the reader a little bit more ammunition should the first round of refutation fail to convince interlocutors.  To begin with, let's look at the theist's claim a little more closely:

Without God, this particular incarnation of the universe is impossible.

This can be rewritten slightly to express the same idea with words that will be easier for us to work with:

Besides God, there are no other possible explanations for this particular incarnation of the universe.

Theists are not going to like it when you reword it this way -- at least not if they're smart.   In fact, maybe even you, gentle atheist reader, are bristling a little bit.  A brief perusal of the science aisle at Borders will tell you that there are most certainly other possible explanations for the universe besides God.  Is it really that simple to completely discard the argument?

In a word, yes.  It really is that astoundingly wrong.  However, let's keep looking at it to make sure we're not missing something really important.  First, let's make an important observation about the word possible.  I've been talking a lot about epistemological rights recently, and I want to begin with saying that I have absolutely no justification for making pronouncements about any of the current cosmological models.  That is the stuff of very highly advanced theoretical physics, and I always had problems figuring out those stupid problems with ramps and boxes and pulleys.  Physics is not my thing.  However, my inability to discuss physics has absolutely nothing to do with my ability to address this particular argument.

Notice that the theist argument relies completely on possibility, not accuracy.  The assertion is that there is no other possibility at all that could explain the universe existing as it does.  This is so astoundingly easy to refute that one has to wonder why anyone would bother, but for the sake of being thorough, I will do so:

Assertion:  It is possible that there is a multiverse, and that black holes are singularities, each spawning their own unique universe, each with random or at least highly variable universal constants.  If this is the case, we should expect that universes such as ours where black holes naturally form would be more common than universes in which black holes do not naturally form.  It is possible that time, whatever it might be, is infinite.  If that is the case, then we should be surprised if a universe such as ours did not come to exist, as it is within the set of possible universal constants.

(This is a very bad rendition of a real theory, by the way.)

I have no idea whether or not this is the way reality is.  I have no idea whether this is probable or staggeringly improbable.  This is not the point.  The point is, unless there's somebody out there with some startling empirical observations of the nature of reality, this theory is at least possible, even if the possibility is only one in trillions of trillions.

That's how incredibly weak the theist argument is!  It is disproven by just imagining anything at all that might have "created" the universe.  Of course, savvy theists will balk at this line of thinking.  They can't really argue the logic, but they can certainly argue the spirit of the argument.  "Possible" doesn't really mean possible in the absolute sense, they will say.  What they mean is that nothing else makes any good sense.  Sure, you can imagine that multidimensional ferrets shit singularities, and it's pretty much impossible to disprove, but how much stock should we put into that hypothesis.  No, the theist will aver, God is the only one with any reasonable possibility of being true.

At this point, a clever debater will insist that theists give up the charade of asserting that God is the only possible cause for the universe, and refuse to discuss the matter further until a new proposition has been put forward.

Having to give up the notion of God being the only possibility, a theist has now conceded that virtually anything could be the cause of the universe.  This is actually the death blow for the argument, though most theists don't realize why.  To illustrate the point, let's assume the theists are correct in fact.  That is, the universe was intelligently designed.  We'll concede for the sake of argument that there is an intelligent being who created the universe.  Imagine now a conversation between a theist and an atheist where the tables are turned.  Science has proven that the universe is most likely to have been intelligently designed, and it is now the atheist who is irrationally holding to the notion that everything began mindlessly, despite evidence to the contrary.

Would a theist, given the preponderance of evidence in his favor, continue to argue that God is the only  possible explanation for the universe?  Of course not!  He wouldn't have to, and any first year college student could point out the error in that position, so why would he?  He would happily admit that the atheist was clinging to a possibility, but that there was no rational reason to hold onto that possibility given the preponderance of evidence for intelligent design.

When we look at it from the other side of the fence, we realize that this is just so much emotional pandering.  There is literally no logical content worth considering, and when the tables are turned, we see just how ludicrous it is.  Once again, theism wants to play tennis with the net down and force atheism to play with the net up.  

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Non-Mythicism

My ongoing discussion with John Loftus has led me to realize something about a lot of people who like to throw their weight around in the discussion of a historical Jesus.  Actually, what really tipped me off to it was that John kept saying that I agree with mythicists.  Just to be thorough, he might have said that because I sided with a mythicist on a point of order -- that John hadn't addressed a particular argument.  If that's why he thinks I'm a mythicist, then he's just mistaken.  I was playing the part of a referee (albeit an uninvited one) who says, "Hey guys... no hitting below the belt."  John wasn't playing by the rules of debate.  He was restating his position without addressing the critique that had been offered.  I was not siding with the mythicist.  I was siding on neutrality and fairness.  In the paraphrased words of Dan Dennett, the net needs to be up for both sides.

Having gotten that out in the open, perhaps John thinks I'm a mythicist because of THIS BLOG POST.  It's an understandable mistake, I suppose, if one doesn't know what mythicism is.  If you read through that post, however, you will notice that I don't use the word mythicist.  I speak of Jesus as an ahistorical figure.  That's not mythicism.

Mythicism is a positive claim that the first literature about Jesus indicates that Jesus' was first conceptualized by believers as a spiritual being, and the stories of his actions as symbolic, not earthly.  I'm going on the record right now as saying that I have absolutely no idea whether this is true or not.  None.  I have no position.  I have neither the time, nor the background, nor the desire to form an opinion on Jesus Mythicism.  It's for scholars to fight about.

I am not a mythicist.  I don't think the mythicist position is winning.  I don't care.

I invented a term for myself, and I think I'll make it public now.  I am a Jesus-Irrelevantist.  Here are my two (and only two) positions:

1) I don't believe the archaeological and literary evidence is sufficient to present a positive case for a particular historical inspiration for either the Gospel or the Epistles or both.  Further, I don't think the evidence is sufficient to present a positive case for a necessary historical inspiration.

2) I believe that because of the fifty(ish) year literary and archaeological silence after the alleged events, and the complete contemporary silence, it is likely that any person (or people) who contributed to the inspiration for either the Gospel or Epistles was historically insignificant.

That's it.  I am not saying, nor will I say that there was no historical Jesus.  I also won't say that there was.  In good science and good history, we don't make pronouncements with insufficient information, and I don't believe the information exists at this time.  Because of the burden of proof, I must maintain the position that until there is evidence for a historical Jesus, I must not say that there was.  Simply by default, I must maintain the negative position.

Can you see that this is not mythicism?  Not even remotely.

I also want you to see that my position is compatible with mythicism -OR- historicity.  I think all atheists are comfortable saying that IF there was a man who inspired the myth, he did not walk on water nor did he turn water into wine, unless he was a wine maker by trade.  He was an ordinary man who did something.  I have no clue what that might have been.  Even so, there is still merit to my argument that Jesus, if he did exist, was historically irrelevant.  The history of Christianity is very different from the historicity of Jesus.  We know Christianity exists, and we know pretty much where and when it started.  These are two different discussions.  My position is that the narrative of history works whether Jesus is historical or ahistorical.  That is, he is historically irrelevant.

To be sure, if the mythicists are completely correct, we wouldn't expect to find a single human who we could call "the Historical Jesus" but does that mean there were not contemporary events, perhaps acts by one or more people, that had direct impact on the writer of a particular work?  Of course not.  There had to be a reason for the Gospel to be written, and we would be shocked if it didn't have some contemporary relevance to the reader.  The question, it seems, is whether contemporary events inspired a writer to retool a savior from literary history for current use, or whether a person's life inspired a writer to mold literary history around him.

Suppose the historians are correct, and the first literature was meant to portray a real person.  We're in exactly the same boat!  Who knows what inspired the first person who wrote about the "real person" Jesus in the Gospel.  Even if the Gospel was written by a madman who really believed he had seen all these things, where'd he get the ideas?  From people.  For that matter, suppose we could prove through textual criticism that the Gospel is intended to portray a real earthly person.  That's fine, but we're still left with the historical question of whether the author was telling the truth or lying or decieved or stretching the truth to the point of absurdity.  So, even proving the mythicists wrong leaves a big gaping hole in our understanding of history.

Whether there was a writer with a penchant for the classics, a preacher,  a doomsday prophet, a homeless crazy guy, or Paul's great nephew, we may never know.  It's basically irrelevant except as a piece of history.  Don't get me wrong, I have great respect for historians, and I'd love to know the right answer, but whatever they find simply isn't going to change much.  Christians will still be blinded by faith.  The pope will still make pronouncements about birth control.

What I care about the most is scientific and historical honesty and accuracy.  I don't like it when people go off half cocked talking about subjects they're not qualified to address as if they're authorities.  The debate between Jesus Historians and Jesus Mythicists isn't even understood by most people.  They think it's about whether there was a Doomsday prophet or not.  Maybe there was, and maybe there wasn't, but that's not the debate.  The debate is about what the writers of the first texts were doing.  Were they writing about a heavenly or earthly savior?  There were doomsday prophets in Palestine in the first century, CE.  Let's just get that out there right now.  Maybe one of them even resembled the literary Jesus very closely.  That's not the point.  The point is one of textual criticism.  What was the author's intent and what was his subject matter specifically?

I don't have a horse in this race, and I don't think many people even grasp the idea that they don't have one either.  It's people who don't even understand the debate who are screwing things up by thinking this is about something it's not.  The mythicist debate is about very specific and very scholarly understanding of languages that virtually nobody has any training in, and scholars are trying to piece together this understanding from the scantest evidence.  It's really hard and specialized work, and the fact is, if you don't know VERY specifically what I'm talking about -- as in, you have had years and years of specialized training in ancient languages and literature -- you are not qualified to do anything but watch.

This, friends, is why I insist on people being epistemologically justified to make claims.  If everybody who doesn't even know what mythicism is would just listen instead of getting their panties in a bunch and shouting down anyone who disagrees with them, there could be some actual scholarly dialog about how these texts should be interpreted.  I'd be interested in the results, but I'm not going to be in the discussion because I'm not qualified.

I sure wish more people would follow my lead.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

All's Well That Ends Angrily, Mr. Loftus

I have tried and failed to communicate to John Loftus what I think are very important criticisms of his rather cavalier attitude towards serious history.  For my own peace of mind and for the edification of any readers, I'm going to reprint our entire discussion, unedited.  John has elected to selectively cut and paste my correspondence to him without posting it fully for context.  I find that to be rather dishonest, and I am disappointed, but I suppose there could be other reasons for his editing.  I am at a loss to think of what they might be.

In any case, I have heard it said that insult is the last refuge of the defeated, and I think Mr. Loftus' last sentence says all that I need to hear.  I will leave this exchange feeling justified in my criticism and yet... sad.

In chronological order, I give you the whole exchange:

*******
HAMBY'S POST:

John, I have some things I'd like you to think about. I don't know if you've noticed my comments about your discussion with a "blog site owner" but I come down on the side of that certain blog site owner, though not without some caveats. You really should read my comment on the blog in question, but I'll explain it here, too.

I've read your arguments rather thoroughly since my initial response to you (linked below) and I think you're making two very serious errors.

First, you've admitted that you are not well versed in mythicist arguments, and you display this lack of knowledge when you get into spats with mythicists. I'm not going to validate your exchange with a blog site owner by calling it an argument because that implies the logical exchange of ideas. No ideas were exchanged because you didn't address or refute any of his arguments. You just restated your opinions.

Please bear in mind that I'm saying this to you in a spirit of constructive criticism so that we can all get along and get on with the business of finding true answers to legitimate questions. I hate it when people have ego spats, and from where I sit, you threw the first stone in the fight you're talking about.

I don't know who's right in the question of Jesus mythicism, but I have a question for you and others who come down hard on either side. How much does it really matter?

Think about that before you jump to a conclusion. We're all atheists and skeptics here, right? Would the existence of a historical Jesus change our minds about God? Would the nonexistence of a historical Jesus change our minds?

Your second mistake, in my opinion, is a matter of broad perspective. The fact is, this is an issue dripping with angst and ego, and I can't for my life figure out why a bunch of atheists would get into such a huge snit about it. If there is or is not enough evidence for a historical Jesus, so be it, but everyone reading this knows that a Christian can be logically and philosophically whipped into a Self-Pwnd Frappe with or without even cracking a bible, much less mentioning Jesus.

John, if you want to get into academic history and make a case for a historical Jesus, please do. However, I have to ask you in all seriousness if you are prepared to stake your professional reputation on what amounts to your feelings about the interpretation of academic arguments. Do you really have the epistemic right to make the proclamation? Please remember when you were a Christian how hard it was to see logic when someone talked to you about the very emotionally charged issue of God. You weren't that way just because you were a Christian. That's human nature, and you're still subject to it.

John, you and the blog site owner had a temper tantrum playground fight. Both of you are at fault for letting your emotions get in the way of reason. However, he has reason on his side. You haven't dealt with (or apparently read) what he's said. I'm not saying his position is right. I'm saying you haven't done anything to prove it wrong. Please remember John that the most well meaning of people have spread opinion to the point that it became perceived as fact. Please, unless you're prepared to make an academic issue of it, don't muddy the waters of Jesus' historicity with less than scholarly analysis. Your voice is too loud. Do the right thing and just shrug your shoulders when someone asks what you think about it.

I offer you the following link (http://allthingsstupidandreligious.blogspot.com/2008/11/thoughts-on-jesus-historicity.html )to my own thoughts on Jesus as a historical figure, and I invite you to consider them, particularly since they come from someone much like yourself -- a former Christian apologist who has devoted much of his life to study -- and more importantly, someone who knows when he has the epistemic rights to make a claim, and when "I don't know" is the only acceptable answer.

You'll notice that I've also addressed as many of your arguments as seemed relevant in a detailed post here: http://allthingsstupidandreligious.blogspot.com/2008/12/response-to-john-loftus-historical.html

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

While I'm At It

You know what?  I just figured out what's really bothering me about John Loftus.  This has been bugging me for weeks, actually, and I just figured it out.  I'm not particularly distressed that he leans towards Jesus' historicity.  What distresses me is that he routinely refers to this as an informed opinion.

I don't doubt that he has the theological qualifications to have an informed opinion, but an informed opinion is most certainly NOT the same as a defendable position.  In proposing that a certain position is the correct one, two things are required.  First, we must justify our own proposition.  Second, if our proposition does not inherently do so, we must address competing propositions and either prove them false or render them sufficiently implausible as to make our own the only likely candidate.

Richard Carrier, Thomas L Thompson, and others have written compelling arguments for an ahistorical Jesus, and they've addressed in some detail what they feel to be the problems with the Jesus historicity argument.  In other words, they've done exactly what I'm talking about.  James Loftus has been quite unwilling (unable?  I don't know) to refute these arguments in anything I've read online.  Am I missing a scholarly rebuttal in his books?  I don't know personally, but nobody I know who's read his books has mentioned any.

This, then, is the crux of my problem with John Loftus with regard to the claim that Jesus probably lived.  He's only playing one side of the coin.  It's easy to be persuasive when you don't even acknowledge the other side of the coin.  I wish he would leave that part of the former preacher behind.

I want to make one other thing very clear.  I've been ripping Loftus pretty hard over this Jesus thing, and I think it's justifiable criticism.  However, I don't want you to get the impression I don't like the guy or think that he's doing good work.  In fact, I encourage everybody to check out his website Debunking Christianity.  I have almost all good things to say about the site and the work that Loftus is doing for Atheism.  However, I refuse to allow a lapse in critical thinking to go unquestioned, particularly when it is being made by one of our leading spokesmen.  I hope that should I ever make a similar mistake, I will be immediately corrected.

Evidence of Lack and Lack of Evidence

I think we've all heard this platitude before:  Lack of evidence is not evidence of lack.  It's a common argument(sic!) trotted out by apologists when atheists say "There's not enough evidence to believe in God."

I want to mention the argument in a slightly different context.  I've been sucked in yet again to the John Loftus claim that Jesus most likely existed.  I try not to get into this because I really don't have a firm position, but I hate it when people who shouldn't have firm positions do anyway.  I'm going to briefly outline -- in obscenely broad strokes -- the things that pretty much all credible scholars agree on:

1) There is absolutely no contemporary evidence for Jesus.  That is, there is not one shred of literature written by or about Jesus while he was alive.  There are no artifacts pointing to his existence.  There are no records, Jewish, Roman, or otherwise, with any reference to anyone who could be reasonably called Jesus.  There is nothing.

2) There is scant evidence within perhaps 50 years of Jesus alleged death.  The only legitimate evidence is literary.  Again, there are no artifacts with his picture, or alleged possesions of his, or anything.  Nothing.  The only literary evidence is in the form of two sets of documents -- the Gospel(s) and the Pauline Epistles.  The Gospel reads like fiction even though it's set in the recent past.  The Epistles are written by a man who claims that his knowledge of Jesus came in a vision.

3) After the first century C.E. there's a ton of literature mentioning Jesus.  However, it should be pointed out that a skeptic must realize that this is evidence that lots of people believed in Jesus -- not that Jesus existed.

That's it.  That's the evidence for Jesus.  Jesus historians spin various scenarios in which the various pieces of literary evidence seem to point to credibility as historical documents.  The mythicists spin it the other way and say the evidence points to ahistoricity.

Ok, with all that in mind, let's examine the phrase:  Lack of evidence is not evidence of lack.  What exactly does that mean?

Epistemologically, it is patently false.  The way we know something is by evidence.  If there is no evidence for a thing, we can say nothing about it whatsoever.   We can't postulate its existence, nor can we assert its nonexistence.  If I ask you to speculate on the existence of schpimble, you have no epistemic rights to do so since you have no evidence indicating what it might be.

When historians use the phrase, however, it takes on a slightly more nuanced meaning.  (Beware:  I normally hate the word "nuanced" in discussions of this sort.  It usually is just a subtle jab, as if to say "You aren't smart enough to understand.")  When a historian looks at a particular figure for which there is a question of historicity, he cannot, strictly from a paucity of evidence, rule out his historical existence.  To put it precisely, there is evidence for Jesus, or we'd have never heard of him.  The question is threefold:  Is there evidence for a historical or mythical Jesus, how should the evidence be weighed, and how reliable it is?

Unfortunately, this particular truth is often misappropriated for arguments which are not sufficiently supported.  This is particularly true, in my opinion, of Jesus historians.  It seems that every treatise on the historical Jesus that I read makes this mistake.  They say essentially that all this later reference to Jesus makes a case -- a conclusion with which I take issue -- and then they say that a mythicist cannot use the lack of evidence as a positive argument.

Let me make this clear.  Epistemically, the lack of evidence doesn't prove a mythicist's case, but it absolutely can be used within certain boundaries as evidence against historicity.  The question a historian ought to be asking is this:  "With a character like Jesus, would we find it startling if there was no contemporary record of his existence?"  

For some characters, even if they were historical, we'd be surprised to find anything written by or about them during their lives.  For instance, in the family tree of John Doe, we might find a posthumous reference to Baby Jack Doe, John Doe's great-great-great-great uncle who died in infancy at sea, born to an illiterate sailor moving his itinerate family to a new home.  We should be rather shocked to find anything of the baby's, because nobody would bother to keep a swaddling cloth or a locke of hair.  Babies died all the time.  The circumstances of his life and death were insignificant historically, but we find that someone a couple of generations later decided it was important to record the oral memory.   Thus, we can have a perfectly legitimate case for a historical figure for whom there is no record for fifty years.

What of Jesus?  I don't know the answer to this, but in the case of John Loftus account, Jesus was a charismatic and apparently well known apocolyptic preacher, at least somewhat reminiscent of the Gospel Jesus.  I say this because John appears convinced that even with the overwhelming majority of the stories containing magic, mysticism, gods, and demons, there is a factual basis for this man.  If that is so, is it reasonable to conclude that he was famous, or at least that he influenced a lot of people?  Was he a magician?  A political up and comer?  A malcontent?

The point is that the more contemporary importance we ascribe to a historical Jesus, the more difficult it becomes to reconcile fifty years of silence with regard to his existence.  Jesus historians occupy the unfortunate position in which they shoot themselves in the foot every time they elevate Jesus in importance!  Are they vehemently arguing for a Jesus who was historically irrelevant?  If so, they may have a very strong case.  But... why?  If we're looking for an itinerant preacher, there are thousands of those we can find.  What makes this one so important?  So what if he was the inspiration for a gospel.  Was the gospel about him?  Clearly not because we've just admitted that he wasn't important!

On the other hand, if we are going to claim that Jesus was a very important figure, important enough that a religion sprung up around him, the burden of proof shifts to us to provide a plausible explanation for fifty years of silence in the face of his very significant existence!

Again, let me emphasize that I'm not claiming that Jesus did or did not exist.  Hell, I have no idea who most Jesus historians are claiming to have existed.  If you read ten different authors, you get ten different figures.  (This, by the way, demands an explanation as well, don't you think?)  The point I'm making is that historians don't get to play both sides of the field -- or as Dan Dennett says, they don't get to put the net up on our serves and return with the net down.  The lack of evidence is not proof of ahistoricity, but it is surely not a help for the case of historicity!  I feel like many historians throw this in the face of mythicists as if such a banal platitude does anything but muddy the waters.

Finally, I'd like to return to something I've recently chided John about on his blog.  I think he is very well meaning in his discussions about his beliefs.  I think he feels he has a very strong case.  What I am not sure of is whether or not he has the epistemic right to make the claim.  Perhaps I am wrong about this, but I am led to believe that John Loftus is not a historical scholar, nor an archaeologist, nor a linguist, nor a textual critic.  He has degrees in divinity unless I am mistaken.  He is certainly a well read man, and I do not mean to malign his status as a thinker.  I do think it worthy of mention that even the most well read Jack of All Trades must be careful to claim only what he can legitimately claim.  I write in broad generalizations about well established theories of evolutionary and human science.  I do this because I know better than to make specific scientific claims I am not prepared to back up.  We've all heard of Jesus, and most of us know a bit about first century Palestine, but the fact is, unless we have spent our lives in textual criticism or some related field, we don't have the professional chops to make pronouncements about this matter.

In the same way that someone who has read every book Richard Dawkins has written is not prepared to teach a college class on evolution, I'm afraid neither John Loftus or I am qualified to make an authoritative statement on Jesus' historicity.  It is a hotly debated topic among people who have devoted their whole lives to its intensive study.  I declare myself agnostic with regard to Jesus existence, though I am quite capable of realizing the terrible burden of proof for those who claim he did.  As a skeptic, I must weigh the lack of evidence carefully, making sure not to build a case for mythicism entirely on its shoulders, but recognizing its ability to seriously undercut any argument for historicity.

So, until more evidence comes in, I must remain, as with all things.... skeptical.

Hambydammit!

Hambydammit!
Rationality through Fluffy Fur and Pointy Claws

Is there such a thing as a God or Gods?