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The Dawkins Proof
Can We Prove That God Doesn’t
Exist?
Let’s forget that story. The whole point of
science is to avoid such stories.
Leonard Susskind
I happen to
believe that my
ontological disproof is as
good as any, but let’s set that aside for the time being. It is much to be
commended that after, shall we say, centuries of remaining on the defensive
(an attitude motivated partly by the genuine civility of most atheists and
the potential for violence on the part of Xtians, Mahometans and their
ilk) and simply pointing out the
faults of the so-called proofs of the existence of god, atheists have
finally whirled about like a well trained Roman legion and pressed the
attack with powerful and novel proofs that god simply doesn’t exist.
Dimicandum est! Let’s mix it up! The disproofs have become so numerous,
it’s quite hard to keep up. The whole situation is pretty damned gratifying.
Consider
Richard Dawkins’
The God Delusion,
now on the must-read list of every rebellious teenager, which advances the
atheological argument by proposing a disproof of the existence of God (or
equivalently a proof of the non-existence of God) using concepts of
evolutionary biology or, more properly, concepts derived from discussions
about evolutionary biology. His conceptual framework is potent, I suppose,
because goddists grow particularly ulcerous over the theory of natural
selection and have been spending a lot of time recently scouring nature for
design-worthy examples of living organisms.
Dawkins’ proof
is on the face of it a simple one. It begins from the premise, derived in
this instance from the writings of goddists who wish to prove the existence
of god, that certain parts of the universe (and accordingly the universe as
a whole) are complex. Examples of such complexity are the uniformity of
property that characterizes all of the very large number of subatomic
particles (proposed by Richard Swinburne) and the structure of the flagellar
motor in prokaryotic cells like E. coli and eukaryotic cells like human
sperm (proposed by Michael Behe. As of this writing, most of the scientific community has rejected the
“irreducible complexity” of the flagellar motor as not true and downright
idiotic. But let us assume that at some point an example were produced that
wasn’t rejected. For the sake of argument; the structure of the argument
itself needs to be examined). For goddists this complexity is such that the
only adequate explanation for its occurrence is some sort of creator
responsible at the very least for the complex parts of the universe. It is
improbable that the observed level of complexity should obtain unless it
were intentionally put into place. It is god, so runs the account, that put
it into place. Dawkins argues that, if you add the assumption of the
existence of a creator to the complex parts of the universe, then the
properties of the creator god themselves are complex, so complex in fact as
to attain at least the same level of complexity as the entities it
supposedly created. This vitiates the explanatory value of a creator god
theory because it does not eliminate unexplained complexity from the
universe (a universe that now includes a very complex creator god). This is
Dawkins’ viewpoint and it is valid as long as the step in the argument that
asserts the equivalent complexity of the creator god is defensible. The
concept of theic complexity is clearly the core of Dawkins’ disproof, but
the theory he proposes is richer than the specifics of the disproof in that
it proposes a reasonable alternative to the conceptually challenged designer
theory. Traditionally defenders of the designer theory assume that the
orderliness of the universe permits of only two explanations. Either the
universe was designed or it is the product of “mere chance.” (Mere chance,
as I argue
elsewhere, is, properly
understood, a name for the understanding that probability rigorously defined
does not apply to the universe as a whole. You need a domain of possible
outcomes to form a proper ratio between actual and possible outcomes. When
you deal with the universe as a whole, the domain of possible outcomes is
purely imaginary and infinitely large.) But there is a third alternative,
namely natural selection as played out in a series of events such that,
however improbable the leap from the beginning to the end of the series, the
transitions between intermediate terms in the series are less improbable
and, once the series is fully filled in, each step is an instance of a
natural law and so has close to 100% probability (or a very high
probability) assuming the validity of the natural law (and assuming that a
rigorous concept of probability even applies in these nearly totalizing,
semi-metaphysical realms; plausibility might be a more suitable
alternative.).
Dawkins aside,
the goddist account could also lead to logical problems in that an infinite
regress of creator gods would be an empty and meaningless recursion like a
propositional function that by definition could only take itself and not
meaningful names or propositions in its variable position (Consider a
language that includes the rule that the variable position (“…”) in a
function like “The thing that hits…” can be filled only by “the thing that
hits…”. Obviously such a bit of language is effectively meaningless. The
only reason that such a phrase or a proposition including such a phrase does
not violate the Law of Non-Contradiction is that, somewhat like a mere
grunt, it does not have enough content to violate or to conform to any logical laws.) The same point can be made about utterances. A
speaker contradicts himself if he says, “I am not now speaking.” A speaker
embroils himself in an infinite regress if he says, “The meaning of every
sentence I utter will be specified by the next sentence I utter.”
Contradictions and infinite regress of this kind are equally
incomprehensible. (If I think I understand the infinitely regressive
assertion, then I haven’t understood it because I haven’t yet heard the
speaker’s next utterance.)
If the
existence and activity of a creator god is assumed only as a premise of the
goddist proof, then Dawkins’ argument is a refutation of that proof and not
a positive disproof. However, if god is at least partially defined as
the creator of at least those parts of the universe whose complexity is such
that they must have been created, then this is a disproof of the existence
of god that is at the very least valid from the standpoint of physical
theory (empirical science). It may also be a logically rigorous disproof,
for supposed propositions about the creator god could turn out to be
functions that can only be satisfied by other functions ad infinitum.
Dawkins leaves
at least two terms undefined, one of which, “complex” in the sense of
“complex organism,” is of course very important (At one point he cites
Julian Huxley’s definition). For on our understanding of “complex” rests the
validity of that step in the argument that concludes that the creator god
must be complex.
The other term,
“absolute proof,” is not so critical, but since, when it comes to god,
proofs are flying around everywhere, there is some merit in a better
understanding of what we mean when we talk about a proof. Dawkins covers
himself from trivial objections by asserting that “of course” you cannot
absolutely prove the non-existence of anything. “That you cannot prove God’s
non-existence is accepted and trivial, in the sense that we can never
absolutely prove the non-existence of anything. What matters is not whether
(the existence of - WD) God is disprovable (he isn’t (it isn’t - WD)), but
whether his (its – WD) existence is probable.” (p. 54) I suppose
Dawkins wishes to acknowledge the difficulty of proving a negative.
Difficulty, not
impossibility. Given even the most mundane understanding of “absolutely
prove” (and setting aside for the moment
philosophical concerns about the meaning of “existence” or
“being” or whatever; I will return to that subject below), you can
absolutely prove the non-existence of lots of things or supposed things. For
example, unicorns that have horns and do not have horns (For simplicity’s
sake, all examples are treated as tenseless; the translation to a time and
place relative version is straightforward if tedious). Or the man who is and
is not Julius Caesar. Let us call the concepts of horned-hornless-unicorns
and identical-to-and-not-identical-to-Julius-Caesar-humans inconsistent
concepts. A concept is inconsistent in this sense if its meaning is such
that it must be transformable into a simple existential proposition such as
“Something is a unicorn and that thing is both horned and unhorned,” or
“Some person is both Julius Caesar and not Julius Caesar.” Since either of
these propositions, if asserted, implies a contradiction, they cannot be
understood. Or, to put it another way, if either of these propositions is
true, then everything is true. In my opinion, if a concept is inconsistent
in this sense, then the individual it (purportedly) refers to does not
exist. And this is an absolute proof of the non-existence of that
individual. To cite a rather more practical example, one way we could prove
the non-existence of a mean value for a given non-continuous function would
be to assume the existence of the mean value for the function and then show
that that assumption violates one of our premises (which obviously include
the theorems of elementary mathematics). I suppose you could call this a
logical disproof and it is by my lights the most absolute sort of proof we
have in our arsenal of proofs. Most of the highly laudable disproofs of the
existence of god start with a concept of god that has a certain richness of
content (e.g. the argument from evil works with a concept of a morally good
god). The designer god has a great deal of content. It is defined as a
designing and creating entity, i.e. as an entity whose properties are
defined by certain supposed properties of the physical universe. Note,
however, that if we simplify the concept of god to the barest possible
minimum and disprove the existence of that god, then the disproof is
proportionally the strongest.
What may well
be true is that you can never “absolutely” prove the existence of something
without some sort of observation, since the consistency of a concept does
not entail that there is anything that falls under the concept. Much goddist
theology could be reduced to the failure to heed this simple caution.
One could of
course argue that the laws of logic might change tomorrow and for that
reason a logical proof is not absolutely absolute. This is not a completely
foolish argument since non-Euclidean geometries and alternative logical
systems have been devised without prior suspicion that they were over the
horizon. However, if no proof is absolute unless it somehow anticipates a so
far merely projected rejection of current laws of logic, then no proof is
absolute. And any “proof” that the current laws of logic do not lead to
“absolute” conclusions would itself have to rely on something (the laws of
logic perhaps?) or else it would have no means of moving from one step of
any proof to another.
If there is a
proof that a given concept of god (There are so many) is inconsistent in
this sense, then that proof is an absolute proof. Now sciences that are
heavily observational (I shall leave the distinction between heavily and
lightly observational vague since all sciences including mathematics (and
even logic in my opinion) are observational to some degree. Suffice it to
say that we usually regard biology as heavily observational and the first
order propositional calculus as lightly observational if it is observational
at all) do not make much use of logical or mathematical proofs of
non-existence as outlined above. The concepts of ether and steady state
creation are not, as far as I know, inconsistent. Their existence is
disproved (or rendered improbable) because they have not been observed and
their existence is not required by current models. Let’s throw in another
term. Logical proofs and properly constructed non-logical proofs in the
heavily observational sciences are rigorous proofs. Now I think that
Dawkins’ proof, if successful, is a largely rigorous proof relying on
concepts from biology of the non-existence of god. It is a perfectly valid
scientific proof. Entities are proved to exist or not exist by science all
the time. One proof is observation and whatever can be directly observed
normally does not require extended proof. The usual situation is whether an
entity is required by a model of some set of observable facts. If the model
has sufficient predictive power and if its predictions are successful and if
the entity is a necessary component of the model, then it has been proved
that the entity exists. I suggest that an entity required by a successful
model of a set of observed facts has some sort of direct or indirect causal
relation with some of those observed facts. However, if the model’s
predictions are unsuccessful or largely unsuccessful or of it is replaced by
a superior model or if the model can be formulated without referring to the
entity, then, as far as the scientific model is concerned, the entity does
not exist. By Ockham’s Razor, therefore, it has been proved that the entity
does not exist. The existence or non-existence of unobserved twin suns and
large planets in distant galaxies is proved in this way. Dark matter and
dark energy will likewise be subject to this procedure.
However, I
think there are logical proofs of the inconsistency of many concepts
of god (The fact is that most concepts of god such as the creator, the
necessary entity, the completely good thing etc. are logically independent
of each other, just as the concepts of horned-unhorned unicorns and
tail-bearing-tail-free unicorns are logically independent of each other. The
former are just jumbled in the heated imagination of your average goddist.
In other words, even if the creator doesn’t exist, there still might exist a
necessary entity etc. Of course losing any of the concepts just
mentioned would most likely be unacceptable to Xtians and Maxjus in general;
but we should still pay attention to their logical independence. The
concepts of god buzz around along different trajectories, so we need to keep
a fly swatter handy.) A logical version of Dawkins’ proof (viz. that the
concept of a creator of complex entities is inconsistent) would a logically
rigorous proof, again if it is valid.
The concept of
complexity is a different story since it plays a role in Dawkins’ disproof.
It needs to be defined or, failing that, better understood. Ultimately,
while of some use in biological descriptions, the concept of complexity is
so utterly vague in the goddist debate that one wonders whether it is worth
rescuing. By adopting the goddist use of “complexity,” Dawkins embroils
himself in this vagueness. “Complexity” in this context is used
interchangeably with “irreducible complexity.” I suppose, as gleaned from
the way the antagonists in the debate talk, and for lack of an actual
definition, that the addition of the notion of irreducibility means that
somehow an explanation such as natural selection or some equivalent
explanation from the physical sciences would be inadequate. This inadequacy
can either mean that natural selection et al. have not adequately explained
the complex phenomena in question. In which case the proper phrase would be
“unreduced complexity.” Or it could mean that no explanation other than the
creator god could ever explain the phenomena. Goddists would seem to need
the latter since, if they mean the former, then all they really assert
before rushing to the conclusion of a creator god is that the current
physical and biological models are not complete, an observation no one, not
even presumably the creator god, would deny. The latter, however, is so
wildly far-reaching that its defense almost certainly falls into the realm
of rubbish speculation. Trying to prove that we will never find an
explanation for the little fellow’s possession of a flagellar motor seems
not unlike the behavior of the gap toothed mystic staring at his navel. Now
Dawkins’ disproof does not rely on the assumption that any complexity in the
universe has to be irreducible. It can be irreducible, unreduced or even
reduced. None of these alternatives invalidates Dawkins’ inference that the
creator god must be characterized as having at least an equivalent level of
complexity, at least at this stage of the argument. For this reason the
validity bar is legitimately not quite as high for Dawkins as it is for
goddists who would seem to need irreducibility or some other form of the
inherent explanatory superiority of the creator god concept.
The concept of
complexity by itself, however, irreducible or not, is a shoal on which many
ships can be wrecked. In the first place, the predicate “complex” is not a
simple predicate; it is relation. You cannot say meaningfully that something
is complex and leave it at that. A thing is more or less complex than
another thing. A particular is not complex by itself; it is only complex by
way of comparison with another particular (one of its parts, for example).
Another problem is that “complex” is an incomplete predicate. In English you
have to give an adequate description of how something is complex. In what
respect is it complex? A complex problem, a complex drawing and a complex
personality are all different. So, just to say that a particular is complex
tout court is close to saying nothing at all about it. Accordingly
the phrase “a is so complex that…” as in “a is so complex that
it must have been intentionally created,” where a is the name of a
particular, doesn’t really say anything unless we specify what a is
more complex than and in what respect a is more complex than whatever
it is more complex than. (Hume’s
part-whole argument against design was an insightful skewed anticipation of
this point just as his concept of a vegetative universe anticipated natural
selection.) Any part of Dawkins’ disproof that relies on this largely empty
notion of complexity will suffer the same problems as goddist proofs that
are based on the notion of complexity. (Genetically one sense of “complex”
may have preceded the others and so the other senses at some point may have
been analogical, as Mill (p.
28) understands analogical predicates. However, it would
remain unclear whether some original sense of complex is really the sense
used by creationists, i.e. whether their sense may or may not be derivative.
Notwithstanding, the many senses of “complex” are now on a morphological
equal footing. It remains incumbent on creationists to specify the respect
in which they mean something is complex.)
But if you take
away the notion of complexity from goddist proofs as largely meaningless
then you take away the observational basis which they use as a premise
(Swinburne’s proof does not rely on complexity; however, as I argue
elsewhere, the idea of improbability is just as big a
trap). The goddists begin by looking at certain things such as swimming
bacteria and dancing electrons and they call those things complex. Without
these initial observation statements no proof. And, even if Dawkins’ notion
of complexity does not simply piggy back on the goddist notion, it is
equally deficient as long as he also uses a concept that is relational
and/or requires further specification. Dawkins in particular assumes the
premise that some entity cannot have been created by another entity unless
the creator entity is at least as complex as the created entity. In my
opinion, the misuse of the concept of complexity is enough to invalidate the
goddist blather and eo ipso Dawkins’ disproof. Case closed. This
essay could end here and we could all go home and smoke a joint. However, if
we keep in mind that complexity as used is a meaningless concept, we can
talk around Dawkins’ proof. For one thing, there are many interesting things
left to say relating to scientific methodology. We can relieve our mental
discomfort at using nonsense terms by replacing “is so complex” in our minds
with “possesses some property.” Thus “Flagellar motors are so complex that
they must have been created” becomes “Flagellar motors possess some property
such that they must have been created.” Observationally unpromising but at
least rid of one level of conceptual confusion.
Dawkins’
assumption that a creator of a universe that possesses a property that
requires creation must also possess that property appears to be intuitively
obvious, but it hasn’t been proved to be true. The intuitive appeal of the
assumption that a creator must be at least as complex as what it creates
does waver a bit under inspection. Of course, it is highly counterintuitive
to think that a cat could create a king or a Xtian read a book. But the
assertion that a simpler entity can create a more complex entity (assuming
we know what these terms mean) does not violate any logical laws. (There is
a weird mediaeval theory, which is immediately contradicted by everything
else the mediaevals say about god, that god is absolutely simple in the
sense that it is a simple substance. For us normal folk, the concept of an
absolutely simple substance is simply incoherent. Every assertion made about
the substance god adds to its complexity if only by negation (If god is not
F, then it is G where "G" stands for the complement of
F. Cf. Dawkins p.
155). This brings up the related strategy of negative theologians whose
trick seems to consist in denying any assertion made about god. If god is
not-everything, then it is of course nothing (despite some rather pretty
poetry by John of the Cross). The simple substance theory has absolutely no
bearing on this discussion. In fact my advice is, don’t even go there. You
need to ingest at least half an ounce of shrooms before you can begin to
understand the simple substance theory.) And what is the significance of the
following examples? (1) A passing storm uproots trees and branches and
significantly alters a local ecosystem in favor of “more complex” life forms
than had existed there previously. (2) Einstein’s mother. (3) The famous
monkeys typing the complete works of Shakespeare in however many years. (4)
We humans create a computer program that can replicate and not only perform
calculations at a far faster rate than we can but is also much more adept at
model creation and even exhibits affects and volitions we cannot understand.
Admittedly (1) and (3) border on (or are in fact) chance occurrences, so as
examples they would have little appeal to goddists for whom the origination
by chance of complex organisms is the unacceptable alternative to
creation. Nevertheless, it is not clear that they are not examples of a
simpler thing creating something more complex. (2) and (4) appear even more
problematic, with apologies to Einstein’s mother. (4) in fact hints at a
kind of super evolution where one type of entity intentionally creates
something that turns out “more complex” (presumably because much of what it
does is incomprehensible to its creators). Because of these examples, I
think it is not at all clear that a creating entity must be at least as
improbable (because it must be at least as complex) as what it creates. But
the source of the vagueness is the vagueness of the term “complex,” not just
because the concept that term stands for is relational and incomplete as far
as its meaning is concerned, but also, as the examples illustrate, we can
project cases where a seemingly simpler thing appears to create a more
complex thing.
There are two
other terms in this network of arguments whose meaning, or lack thereof,
causes trouble. The first is “improbable;” the second is “creates.”
“Improbable” is used in so many ways by goddists as to arouse suspicions of
deliberate obfuscation. The flagellar motor example is supposed to imply
that natural selection cannot account for its origin and therefore it is
improbable in a biological model based solely on natural selection. Some
goddists get all highfalutin’ and start babbling about probability theory
and Bayesian probability calculations. Mostly, I suspect, “improbable” is
just the word that runs through goddists’ minds as they stare at the night
sky with their mouths open. As I understand Dawkins, he uses “improbable” to
mean, “Whatever sense of ‘improbable’ you choose, it is only reasonable to
regard the creator god as equally improbable.” If you think the flagellar
motor could not have just popped on the scene, its creator too could not
just have shown up at the door one day. If one needs a creator, so does the
other. If you think the chance of the universal constants being what they
are is one in a bazillion, so the chance of the creator of the universe
being the way it is is at least one in a bazillion plus one. If the starry
night makes you feel all queer inside, then think how any reasonable person
would react to the thought of something creating the starry night. Dawkins
aside, each of these three senses of “improbable’ is severely wanting. Even
if natural selection had not yet developed an explanatory model for the
appearance of the flagellar motor (and further empirical observation
indicates that
it has), that is no reason why in
time it could not. And any proof that natural selection could never
devise an appropriate model to explain the origin of the flagellar motor
would have to be a logical (or some other sort of a priori) proof.
Good luck. The argument from probability theory is based on such a flagrant
mathematical error (for division by infinity either contradicts the
initially assumed binomial or is disallowed) that it should be included in
elementary texts on probability theory as an example of how not to do
mathematics. As for the last, well just watch out for bird shit.
Given the
tangle involving the concept of complexity, it is probably not helpful that
Dawkins doubles down on this infelicitous term. He can and should say that
if something has a property that renders its existence improbable unless it
had been created, then whatever created that thing itself has a property
(which may or may not be the same property) that also renders its existence
improbable unless it too had been created. This won’t be greatly helpful as
long as the original property is complexity, but it does clarify that the
corresponding property of the creator doesn’t have to be the same
property as that possessed by the created entity. Thus restated, Dawkins’
proof asserts that, if certain phenomena are F in such a way that they must
have been created, then whatever created them must be G (where “F” and “G”
stand for properties). G could be the same property as F, but it doesn’t
have to be. Anything that is G must have been created, therefore etc. In
this formulation “in such a way that” may include the sense of
improbability, which is what induces us to accept the first premise.
The goddists
and Dawkins have different tasks. The former must find some property F that
allows them to accept as true the protasis. Dawkins needs to show that any
such property or a related property G must also characterize the creator.
And he must show that a related property must be such that the creator must
also have been created. I don’t have any good suggestions for F. In the
first place I don’t think there are any such properties. And I’m not in the
business of helping goddists. As regards Dawkins the proof would be that,
for whatever F you can find, I can find a G such that anything that is
G
must have been created (or alternatively that G is an inconsistent concept).
For any reason you may have that something that is F must have been created
is also a reason that some thing that is G, (e.g. something that can create
an F) must have been created. An obvious candidate for G would be “can
create particulars that are F” or even “creates particulars that are
F”
assuming that there can be F’s.
At first blush
there is nothing inconsistent in the notion that something can create
another thing (Assuming we know what “create” means) and it looks doubtful
whether we could find a property G without knowing more about F or in some
other way saying something more about G itself. So we may not find a
disproof of the existence of a creator solely on the assumption that some
things need to be created. In addition, an inconsistent concept would almost
certainly have to be a composite of two other concepts both of which cannot
apply to the same particular (horned and hornless). And the concept of a
creator that created things that are such that they were created is not, on
the basis of the little information we have so far, inconsistent. In fact it
appears to have no more content than is dictated by the assumption that
there are F’s in the world.
But we may be
able to argue that the concept of a (complex or simple) creator god is by
itself infinitely regressive. Take the following sample argument that the
concept of a creator god involves an infinite regress even if the creator
god is not as “complex” as the universe it created. Call the physical
universe, the universe of natural science and biology, U1. Assume that U1
manifests a sufficient degree of “complexity” (or alternatively possesses
some property) such that it must have been created by a creator god. Now
call U1 plus the creator god the larger universe U2. U2 consists of the
union of U1 and the creator god. But U2 is no less complex than U1, even if
the creator god by itself is no more complex (or improbably even less
complex) than U1 or elements of U1. The addition of the creator god does not
diminish the complexity of U1, so U2 shows a sufficient degree of complexity
to require a creator god2. The union of U2 and creator god2
is U3 and so on. Just as the repeated utterance that the meaning of my
sentence will be specified by the next sentence I utter can never be
understood because its understanding would require hearing and understanding
an infinite number of utterances, so the universe cannot have been created
in a comprehensible way by a creator godn because its creation
would require the creation of an infinite number of universes by an infinite
number of creator gods. (Even if the infinite series of creator gods is
generated by elementary recursion, this does not add to its
comprehensibility; the utterance regress specified above is also generated
by a recursive function.) Not to mention the consequent polytheism. Dawkins
would observe quite correctly that a theory that involves infinite regress
would be rejected on empirical scientific grounds because it lacks
explanatory value. But the problem with infinite regress is much deeper. A
contradiction is incomprehensible; it entails everything. A theory that
involves an infinite
regress can be shown upon analysis to involve a propositional function that can only take itself as an
argument; since only fulfilled propositions have truth values, an infinite
regress entails nothing because it has no meaning (no truth value). In this
case the empty propositional function would be something on the order of,
"...was created by the thing that was created by..." where it is stipulated
that the variable position can be fulfilled only by the same propositional
function. Now this
infinite regress might be resolved by the stipulation that for any godn-1
and godn, godn-1 is identical to godn.
But the unhappy consequence is that the creator god, so understood, created
itself. This is indeed a contradiction because the creator God would have to
have existed before it existed. Infinite regress or inconsistency: This is
the first logical disproof of the concept of a creator god. In honor of the
Dumb Ox, we might call it the First Way. However, it is somewhat weak
because it depends on the assumption that a given universe Un is
such that it must have been created. Also it might be avoided by changing
one’s position from saying that god created the whole universe to saying
that god created only those portions of the universe that it created –
basically a version of the space alien theory of creation (Not to mention
the fact that Dawkins’ disproof disallows this change of position).
Furthermore, we
cannot say one more thing about the particular that is G without inviting
even greater inconsistency on the part of the richer concept. Consider the
concept of a G that created the whole universe (and not just the F’s in the
universe). The concept of a god who created everything is indeed
inconsistent simply because the concept of everything is a Typhoid Mary of
paradoxes. Xtians cling to the idea that god created everything with
the tenacity of wild animals. The reason I suppose is that a god that did
not create everything is just Jupiter. In fact they often say that
apparent paradox in the god concept (Another example is the problem of evil)
is just the result of our limited understanding. Speak for yourself.
To reiterate,
if the universe is everything that exists and not just the physical
universe, then, if god created the universe, god must have created itself.
Therefore it must have existed before it existed. Or, if the universe is
everything except god, then god must have created the act of creation.
Consequently the act creation must have existed before the act of creation
existed. So the concept of a god who created everything is inconsistent. For
it is a contradiction to assert that god existed before it was created, i.e.
that it existed before it existed, and also that the act of creation existed
before it existed. More accurately put, the propositions that are the
meaning of those assertions violate the law of Non-Contradiction. (Some
might step in at this point and say that god created time when it created
the rest of the universe. So arguments based on before and after are not
valid. They might do this, but what they say makes about as much sense as
saying that dingles blank the spam. It is certainly not the same as the
legitimate hypothesis that the current configuration of space-time
originated with the Big Bang. For that space-time is the rather precisely
defined notion of relativistic and quantum mechanics that permits but
obviously does not specify logically consistent alternatives. As for
Augustine’s opinion, well, he was a hippo. In fact we can leave time
out of it and just use the term “without”. The concept of creating creation
is still inconsistent.) Xtian theology is rather muddled about whether god
created everything or not. Though that is the common assumption, I presume
that they do not mean that god created itself. However, not much is said
about things like the act of creation and it seems quite clear that the act
of creation also could not have been created by the creator god. But at this
point Pandora steps in and the supposedly empty universe turns out to be
full of shrieking, jabbering entities that could not possibly have been
created by the creator god. Consider the ability to create. Consider
planning, the ability to plan, foresight, intent, potential, imagining,
understanding (Fill in the blanks). Or take number (presumably only one
universe was created), simplicity, complexity, time (mediaeval mumbo jumbo
notwithstanding (Cf. Kenny in
Martin & Monnier p.211), if a thing
is created, then there is by definition a time when it is not and then a
time when it is). Without all of these it would be hard to say that some god
actually created the universe. Without intentions and capacities god is like
the passing storm that blocked the stream, a concomitant circumstance and
not a creator. Indeed even in the latter case the creator god could not have
created chance or circumstances.
Suppose a Xtian
(who is also of needs a thoroughgoing materialist) objects that these
uncreated entities are abstract concepts and not real things at all? But in
order to maintain such an objection, our Xtian would have to explain what he
means by a “real” thing (a rabbit hole if there ever was one). Indeed it is
hard to imagine how a creator could create anything without the intention to
create that thing. Without that intention, we are left with either a chance
concurrence of circumstances or a sort of evolution of one thing out of
another (and we certainly don’t want to talk about evolution!). And if
intentions could not be in some sense real, we could not distinguish between
real intentions and supposed intentions (We thought she intended to run down
her boyfriend but he slipped in front of her car). Jurisprudence would come
to a standstill. And, if we wished to adhere to a strictly monist viewpoint
and to clothe our monism in the language of physical material objects, then
intentions (and acts, capacities, imaginings etc.), could be viewed as
alternative descriptions of brain states just as a computer program is no
more than a structured silica network. Both are very real and neither could
have been created by a creator god.
Or else assume
that the creator god created our intentions, but it didn’t create its own
intentions? Even then we can only understand the concept of a creator god’s
intentions by assuming they have something in common with our own
intentions. The two types of intention must have something in common in fact
or they would not both be intentions. So while the creator god may have
created Mahomet’s particular intentions, it still could not have created
intentions in general. (I know god is outside time and beyond our limited
understanding and all that razzmatazz. That’s the problem with theology.
It’s so negative.)
We cannot
assert that the creator god created everything on pain of violating the Law
of Non-Contradiction. Indeed there are not insignificant parts of the
universe that it could not have created. (I can hear your garden variety
Xtian preacher now. “De Awmighty don’ need no Law of Non Connadikshun. He
can send de Law of Non Connadikshun to boin in Hell like the rest o’ you
Commanists.” Whatever. The Awmighty can do what it wants. The fact remains
that any assertion that violates the Law of Non-Contradiction is
meaningless. Another way of saying this is that it implies everything.
Therefore, it is true that the Awmighty eats its own turds.) Inconsistency
is avoided if we redefine the creator god as having created some things but
not everything. At first blush and from a logical point of view that is a
legitimate gambit (although the result leaves the creator god as something
more of a constitutional monarch than the all-powerful poobah religionists
prefer). Even if the concept of a creator of what needs to have been (and
has been) created were not inconsistent, the richer concept of a creator of
everything is inconsistent, and it turns out that there are very specific
things that we cannot on pain of inconsistency assert that this god created.
But indeed the first blush turns out to be a malarial fever. If the creator
god did not create its own act of creation and its own capacity for
creation, it did not create generic creation and capacity that subsume
specific types of creation and capacity. But if it didn’t create the generic
creation and capacity, it didn’t create what is critical to the specific
creation of the flagellar motor, not to mention the rest of the visible
universe. Like a good apprentice, it simply applied a pre-existing
mechanism. For if there is no creation or capacity at all, then there are no
specific types of creation or capacity. If the creator created it did not
create the capacity for creation. Therefore the creator did not create. This
concept is inconsistent and so the creator that created everything does not
exist. This thing that does not exist is what we call god. QED and all that.
It seems that the creator god could not have created the visible universe,
because it could not have created creation. This is another logical disproof
of the notion of a creator god. It is the Second Way. This proof is stronger
than the First Way because it does not depend on the assumption that there
is something about the universe that requires its creation.
By way of
summary, the creator cannot have created creation or the capacities we
associate with creation on pain of violating the Law of Non-Contradiction. A
path may be walked that tries to avoid this violation (e.g. the creator
created our act of creation but not its own) but the result most likely
would end up completely unlike anything we can recognize as creation. It
could look like chance occurrence. It would also introduce its own
smorgasbord of problematic uncreated phenomena and capacities including
generic concepts. (A particularly clever version of this argument was
devised by Gilbert Fulmer (Martin
& Monnier, pp. 326 ff.) to the effect that a transcendent
creator would be subject to a natural law ordaining that its act would
regular lawlike consequences so that, stated by way of permissible
simplification, that creator would not transcend the natural universe at
all.)
Now creation,
the capacity to create and everything involved in those concepts is indeed a
good candidate for the property G of a Dawkinsian creator. Under these
circumstances the Dawkins argument could be framed a) by relying on the
original creationist “proof,” viz. the creator god is much too complex not
to have been designed and created by something else, or b) as an independent
intuition – the creator god must have either been designed or created (if
indeed these concepts make any sense) or its existence would have to be
explained by a sophisticated mechanism like natural selection.
It is notable
that this gloss on the notion of a creator god throws an unflattering light
on the deistic (and apparently Neo-Platonist) god, the god of
Voltaire
(more or less), the abstract creative force. The notion of creation
is anthropomorphic or it doesn’t make any sense. For the idea of a
creator without any of the qualities sketched above runs counter to our
intuitions of what a creator must be. This should be equally and painfully
clear with respect to Voltaire’s view that the abstract creative force is
also benevolent and just. What are these but human qualities?
Spinoza’s god, namely the universe
that creates itself, may be truly non-anthropomorphic if we understand the
idea of a universe that creates itself as code for a universe that was not
created, a nature that is just there and whose parts behave according to
regular patterns that show no evidence of having been imposed from without.
But, understood that way, Spinoza’s universe did not literally create
itself. Philosophical analysis it can be applied to the concepts of any
number of ways that god is understood. Indeed beautiful existential
disproofs have been
devised using the understanding of
god as omnibenevolent, all-powerful and all-knowing (assuming the brick wall
postulate that nothing exists whose concept is inconsistent). There is a
like contradiction in the Xtian myth of hell where some of the punished are
also punishers. If devils consider it good for them to inflict pain on
humans, then, if they are successful, they realize an end that is good for
them and so are not themselves completely punished. The successful
punishment of humans is a reward for the devils, not a punishment. This
contradiction was noted by Voltaire in his Dîner de Boulainvilliers (Mélanges
p. 1304)
Now we also
have non-purely-logical scientific grounds why the concept of a creator god
can be rejected without relying on the vague and mathematically disallowed
concept of improbability or borrowing the junk concept of complexity from
the goddists. I proposed that the concept of creating itself properly
understood would be a good candidate for the property G, which would be a
more rigorous version of Dawkins’ concept of complexity. A god that did not
create the mechanism of creation did not create the mechanism whereby E.
coli and its clever little flagellum was created by evolving from a
pre-existing species. Or better, if that god did create the evolutionary
mechanism specific to that event, it still did not create the generic
mechanism of creation through evolution.
Now upon
further reflection we can understand that creating or being able to create
as the property G is sufficiently rich that it vastly exceeds its
explanatory value for phenomena such as the flagellar motor or the universal
constants. If we are to accept the concept of a creator or of something that
can create (even assuming that concept is consistent, which, as we saw in
the case of the creator god, it isn’t), we require more than its hypostasis
in an explanatory theory. We need direct observation of this entity. Show us
the goods. This replaces the concepts of improbability or complexity with
the scientifically more precise concept of direct observation. The creator
god is such that if we don’t see it, it doesn’t exist.
The discovery
of Neptune after its hypostasis on the basis of irregularities in the orbit
of Uranus illustrates this point. When Leverrier proposed that an as yet
unobserved planet was responsible for the discrepancies in the observed and
predicted positions of Uranus, he hypostatized much more than an entity
characterized solely by its gravitational effect on Uranus. This entity was
a planet with everything that concept entails. In order to exert
gravitational attraction, it must have mass, occupy a position in space-time
and have measurable spatial dimensions. It must consequently be composed of
elements and compounds in either solid, liquid or gaseous state or some
combination thereof. It would most likely have to be ovoid or nearly
spherical. It would most likely need to reflect light and so be visible by
way of a telescope. This is the sense on which the concept of an entity
exerting gravitational influence on Uranus is too rich to be justified
solely on the basis of its explaining observational discrepancies. Neptune
does not exist simply because Uranus wanders a bit off course. If Galle had
not provided visual verification, it would have been back to the drawing
board for Leverrier.
The concept of
the creator god is also too rich to be accepted simply because it explains
certain natural phenomena. For starters it would have to be distinct from
what it created (otherwise the occurrence would not be creation but some
wacky form of evolution). The creation would almost certainly have to be
intentional. Inadvertent or accidental creation would have no explanatory
value since we might just as well settle for the inadvertent occurrence of
the phenomena to be explained. Likewise some form of viviparity or cell
separation mechanism would have to be different from observed examples of
this type of biological mechanism and its particular characteristics would
have to be demonstrated or else it would have no explanatory value
whatsoever. So the intention to create would almost certainly be required.
As well as, as I noted above, the ability to create, the disposition to
create and so on. If this entity has intentions then it must have the
capacity to choose. It doesn’t make much sense to say something has the
intention to create without allowing for the possibility that it may choose
not to create. Similarly it must understand what it is doing. It must have
some pre-existing idea of what it wants to create. Which means it must want
to create. So it must have understanding and will – or something like what
we recognize as human or animal understanding and will. Since its creation
was successful (We can observe flagellar motors) the creator god must have
the ability to realize its designs. Accordingly it must have abilities,
capacities and powers. Not all of these have to be exactly the same as their
human counterparts, but they must be recognizably similar and they must
fulfill their purposes. (There are so many questions. If the creator god
makes choices, does it have preferences? Does it like jelly doughnuts or
does it prefer Kibbles & Bits? Or does it watch its weight? Does it have an
opinion about fake boobs? Or pussy shaving? Of course, it may prefer little
boys. Is it a Republican or a Democrat? Maybe (Gasp!) it’s not even
American. I suggest these pressing questions require verifiable
answers or we must reject the notion of the creator god out of hand.)
Of course your
garden variety Xtian would exclaim, “That’s him! Intentions, will, power,
even a preference for Krispy Kremes. That’s our turd boy, god of gods, king
of kings and his own little bird dropping in that manger long, long ago.”
But not so fast. Obviously. This concept is way too rich to be justified
solely because it explains (if it does explain) why sperm have propeller
screws. Dawkins says the existence of something so definite, so, shall we
say anthropomorphic, is not bloody likely. A more rigorous formulation would
be that an entity this definite requires direct observation. If we can’t see
it, it ain’t there.
Consider
another requirement. The creator must either have used something
pre-existing to create the universe, like the famous potter and his clay, or
else it would have had to create the universe out of nothing. If it used
something, what is this something? How can it be described? What does it
look like? Wouldn’t the existence of the primordial ooze also need some sort
of verification beyond the existence of propeller screws? The idea of
creation of something from nothing, on the other hand, involves a bit of a
metaphysical tangle. For one thing,
Locke’s
causal proof of the existence of god involves the assumption that nothing
comes from nothing (Obviously unwarranted as Hume
pointed out). But, aside from that, one wonders what exactly does
creation from nothing (like Merlin saying “Abracadabra!”) explain?
Ultimately this aspect of creation itself requires a good deal of splainin’
just like god’s mental state when it did all that creating.
Of course,
concepts like “rich” and “definite” are every bit as relational and
incomplete as “complex,” the concept I have spent no little time dumping on.
I hazard to assert, however, that I am using them in a slightly different
way, and that makes a significant difference. To say that a concept is rich,
for one thing, doesn’t add much of anything (or anything at all) to the
reasons we give for saying that the concept is rich. When we say something
is complex we say that it has qualities F, G, H etc. and it is the
possession of these qualities that makes the thing complex. But to say that
it is complex is to say something more than that it is just F and G and
H.
Complexity adds further content to the simple enumeration of the qualities a
thing possesses. I feel I am using “rich” however as a simple stand-in for
the sum of qualities a thing is supposed to possess. There is nothing about
the richness of its concept that requires direct verification of whether
something we speculate exists really exists or not. Richness is, rather,
simply those qualities for which “rich” is a kind of shorthand. So, while
“rich” may be relational and incomplete, “intending to create” is not in the
same way (Nor are the creator’s hopes and fears and secret desires to
produce a nubile little Eve so it can fuck with her mind). And “rich,” in
the way I am using it, means nothing more than “intending to create” and the
like qualities enumerated above. In this way my definition of “rich” is
operational and not informative. What counts are the qualities it stands
for. Now Dawkins and his creationist nemeses could argue that they use
“complex” in the same operational way. If so it would have been helpful had
they explained the real concepts “complex” is supposed to stand for.
Another
formulation of an objection to the concept of a creator god from the
standpoint of empirical science would be that the concept lacks explanatory
value. We have already found good philosophical reasons why this concept
cannot be further specified without inviting inconsistency or infinite
regress. Now if we broaden our focus on the creationist hypothesis from the
“problems” it is supposed to solve and consider the explanation itself we
find the idea of a bearded wonder running around with stars and moons on its
cloak and waving its magic wand actually raises more problems than it
solves. The facts implied by the explanatory theory are in as much if not
greater need of explanation as the observed facts it is supposed to explain.
A definite bummer. And an entity that cannot be observed and that does not
figure in a model with explanatory value does not, for all intents and
purposes, exist.
Now the premise
of the creationist argument, and eo ipso Dawkins’ (ultimately
rejected) premise is that it is highly improbable that certain natural
phenomena exist. But of course those natural phenomena do exist. We know
that through observation. Dawkins argues that a designer god is not required
by the facts assembled to support the creationist theory and that it suffers
from the same faults as the “irreducibly complex” universe itself.
Nevertheless, just as some of those facts do indeed obtain despite their
improbability, so a designer god may exist as a brute fact. It may just be
there hidden under a rock somewhere designing away, even though its
contribution is not required by the facts and its irreducible
complexity is in dire need of further explanation. Who knows? The improbable
designer god may have even evolved by minute probable steps from some
Ur-designer god that in the beginning designed only relatively
(Relatively?!) simple things like hydrogen atoms. Its evolution may have
even been spurred by a type of natural selection; it may have displaced
other designer gods with less whatever it takes to be good designer gods.
However, Dawkins’ argument provides a powerful disinclination to take
seriously this bit of speculation barring any real observational evidence.
For along the same speculative lines, David Hume may have really been the
designer god in mufti, enjoying the sort of cosmic joke that only designer
gods can really appreciate. This may be just a brute fact whatever its
improbability as long as its obtaining does not violate the Law of
Non-Contradiction. But barring actual observational confirmation or the need
for the Hume god or any designer god in models that explain actual observed
facts, we are left not so much with a disproof as a vast sea of indifference
about the status of the Hume god or any other designer gods. Who really
cares whether a designer god exists? Who gives a shit about god? I don’t.
Theologians
tend to step in at this point and assert that the real god is not the turd
boy of the popular imagination, but a complex metaphysical entity that blah,
blah, blah. I suppose the implication is that we should never require
something so vulgar as actual observation when it comes to turd boy.
However, the existence of Allah or Baal or Yahweh or Jesus X or Jupiter is
subject to empirical, i.e. observation-based test because of the factual
claims made about their interaction with the observable universe. We can
empirically disprove the existence of individual gods who either show
themselves or purportedly leave traces of their activity in the physical
universe. Xtianity and Mahometanism do sometimes shade the way they use the
term “god” such that it doesn’t function in any simple way as a referring
term whose referent is an individual (a first-order referring term). The way
this term is shaded is vague and largely involves a misuse of logic and
metaphysics. It is used somewhat like a class term, but it is not a class
term (i.e. the set including Allah, Baal, etc.). It is often understood
somewhat like an abstract or predicative term (i.e. like “red” or “sexy” or
“good”) but, in most cases where theologians use the term, their intention
is not uniquely predicative. Except and not always in cases of extreme
pantheism (e.g.
Spinoza’s
“The universe is goddish” or “The universe gods”), uses of “god” in a
predicative way as meaning an abstraction are thoroughly vague. One suspects
that at bottom most goddists including Xtian and Mahometan theologians
(Some, like
D.F. Strauss, don’t mean anything
and are quite candid about it) down deep really do mean an individual when
they use the term “god.” That is, they use it as a proper name like “Julius
Caesar” or “Kayden Kross.” However, when the individual god begins to look
too much like some guy on the side of a mountain somewhere, they start to
stress an abstract sense based on all the wonderful qualities the individual
is supposed to have. This vagueness explains Dawkins’
perplexities
in debating Oxbridge theologians on the one hand,
whose god is largely a deistic abstraction, and creationist propagandists
whose god is a Wizard of Oz living in a forest cave far far away. But these
are not the same thing.
Dawkins’ proof
(or our version of it) is valid to the extent that the meaning of “god” is
limited to its use as a first-order referring term whose referent is an
individual. It is invalid to the extent that “god” is not used in that way
but rather in some sense that assertions like “God exists” are not subject
to the kind of direct empirical verification in the same way that “There
must be a raccoon tipping the garbage cans” or “There must be a real actress
starring in Kayden’s First Time” are. But, as we saw, the reason that
“God exists” or “God is tipping our garbage cans” are not subject to direct
verification and so are not properly the target of Dawkins’ proof is that
such assertions are largely meaningless.
Nevertheless,
the assertion that god and its existence are not subject to scientific
verification are what theologians call NOMA or Non Overlapping Magisteria.
This is
academic faggot talk for “You got your department and we
got ours.” It comes down to saying that concepts and practices such as
verifiable observation, consistency of argument and peer review - practices
that inform the warp and woof of science (To which I may add that such
concepts and practices are not the exclusive domain of science but are
equally constitutive of jurisprudence, criminology, sports refereeing and
teaching little Timmy not to lie; what distinguishes the institution of
science from these phenomena is the practice of model creation and, wherever
possible, the use of mathematical techniques) - that these concepts or
practices, which in this context are central to establishing the superiority
of the model of natural selection over the creationist model, are out of
play when it comes to god. Perhaps. But the issue addressed by NOMA is not
god so much as theology, i.e. a discipline whose practitioners act very much
like scholars in other disciplines. And the magisterium of this discipline
overlaps in any number of ways with those of humanistic scholarship and even
of the hard sciences. Otherwise, even though a Bible “scholar” by way of
example may, according to the rules of this mysterious other magisterium,
not be able to say whatever he wants about some text or event, nevertheless
his conclusions would presumably not be subject to anything so mundane as
establishing the text, philological verification or any sort of peer review,
since those are practices belonging to the wrong magisterium. Moreover, the
creationist argument for the existence of god based on evidence of design in
the physical universe does belong by its very nature to the
magisterium of physical science. It has pretensions to gentility. You can’t
propose a scientific “proof” for the existence of a creator god and then
when scientists proceed to flatten your “proof” claim you operate in some
heavenly mystical sphere not accessible to science. Please no shell games.
Something tells
me that NOMA is nothing more than a New Age version of the hoary imprecation
that faith begins where reason leaves off. And we remember that the question
of “Which faith?” causes no end of problems for that worm eaten jingle. As
La Mettrie’s Philalète observed, “Je trouve que chaque secte se sert avec
plaisir de la raison, autant qu’elle en croit pouvoir tirer quelque secours:
cependant dès que la raison vient à manquer, on s’écrie que c’est un article
de foi qui est au-dessus de la raison.”
Something
may be said for NOMA along the following lines. Let’s take
Frazer’s idea of three stages of the
explanation of natural events as a guide. The first is the animistic stage
where it is believed that objects of the natural world possess human-like
will and motivation. The second is the religious stage where it is believed
that natural objects do not have these qualities, but that non-human
agencies, the gods, who are also endowed with human-like will and
motivation, interact with natural objects and cause them to behave the way
they do. The third is the scientific stage where it is found that events
involving inanimate objects exhibit unvarying regularities that can be
expressed in mathematical theorems. A NOMA-like argument would put forth
that the religious and the scientific (and why not animistic as well?) views
can both be true. However, the criteria for a true assertion within one
“magisterium” cannot be applied to the other. Mutatis mutandis
scientific proofs of the existence or non existence of entities cannot be
applied to entities required by a religious model of the universe. In fact
pre-Laplacean physical theories were comfortable with this distinction; much
so-called natural philosophy tried to unite in one grand theory explanations
by unvarying regularity and explanations by humanoid agency. According to
some views the humanoid agent personally intervened in any and every natural
event. In fact its interventions could be arbitrary. The deistic view placed
the humanoid agency at the beginning of the series and dropped it from
succeeding events.
According to
NOMA this should be a satisfactory compromise. But why then was it consigned
to the scientific attic towards the end of the eighteenth century and why
should Dawkins’ proof be considered as more than just scientifically valid?
The reason probably lies in supplementary arguments, the amici curiae,
so to speak, of the court of intellectual opinion. The historical claims of
the Xtian myth were shown to be demonstrably false. The moral pretensions of
religion were cast into doubt. The political role of religious sects was
viewed with a less than favorable eye. The continuing validity of these
supplementary arguments is shown by the second half of Dawkins’ book. The
presumption in favor of two non-interacting domains changes into a
presumption against the utility or desirability of the religious domain.
Since specific religious models are not required to explain any individual
observed facts (I hate to break this to you, Boopsie, but there are no
miracles) and since the religious magisterium is by definition redundant
upon the scientific magisterium, the religious magisterium may be ignored
without loss of explanatory power.
But there is
more. Individual religious models are not simply redundant alternatives to
scientific models. In many instances they entail conclusions about the facts
of the observable world that conflict either with direct observations or
with scientific models derived from direct observations. To the degree, for
example, that the Xtian myth deduces certain conclusions about the natural
world from assertions in the Bible that contradict a scientific model, the
Xtian myth and the scientific model do not reside in separate magisteria. If
you believe in the truth of the Xtian myth, you cannot believe that the
earth has a certain geological age, that the earth revolves around the sun,
etc. So, while NOMA sounds fine in theory, actual religious models do
overlap in practice with scientific models. One suspects that if they did
not, the resulting religious model would be so content-free as to be
undistinguishable from atheism, a charge often leveled at deism. Moreover,
when the scientific model is not several mathematical steps away from simple
observations, but rather intuitively linked by common sense (as is the case
with the geological age of the earth or simple evolutionary observations),
then it is easy to see that the religious model contradicts observation as
well. The real life consequences are unacceptable. Locke and Descartes were
warned that they should not propose any theories whose conclusions
contradicted either the Bible or papist doctrine or both; and Galileo was
punished for ignoring his warning. Today we are told that certain scientific
models are false because they contradict certain religious models. This is
not NOMA. It is nonsense.
There is a
broader conceptual problem. When theologians assert or defend NOMA they
assert one or more propositions. Furthermore their intent is to provide a
reasonable defense of religious talk. They want other people to be convinced
that theology is constituted as a separate magisterium. To what magisterium
do the propositions asserted about or in defense of NOMA belong? Do the
propositions that assert NOMA belong to the theological or the scientific
magisterium? If they belong to the former, then their justification falls
within the theological magisterium whose separateness has not been
independently demonstrated. The question is begged. If they belong to the
latter, then, to the extent that they say anything about theological issues,
what they say is also subject to scientific verification. In that case some
or all of theology also falls into the scientific magisterium. To the extent
that theologians intend to provide a convincing defense of religious talk
one is hard pressed not to conclude that at least part of their defense of
NOMA overlaps with the purported scientific magisterium. To the extent that
any evidence put forward for NOMA is publicly accessible (e.g. alternative
experiences), it falls eo ipso in the domain of science by virtue of
being subject to confirmatory examination. These are logical problems with
the assertion of NOMA. If they are not answered satisfactorily, NOMA itself
is simply incomprehensible. Rather ironic in that NOMA was devised to
explain away the incomprehensibility of theological concepts.
But what about
the very idea of existence? What do we even mean when we say that something
exists or doubt whether a particular or some class of things may exist?
Well, if you think the waters have been deep so far, you ain’t seen nothin’
yet. Wading is no longer an option. You gotta learn to swim. Most
non-philosophers including some scientists manage quite well talking about
things that exist and other things that don’t exist without a great deal
(some, but not a great deal) of concern as to what “exists” means. In most
situations this is harmless, since some shared background assumptions on the
meaning of “exists,” in the context of the utterance, mental or otherwise,
are in play, such as when we discover that a tenth planet exists. In most
cases – likewise in most cases it is harmless to make Newtonian assumptions
about the fundamental laws of the physical universe. All participants in the
creationist debate have assumed a minimal working criterion of “exists” to
be, “an entity exists if its existence is required by the true observation
that the universe is designed.” The questions of what that criterion for
existence entails or whatever properties it may involve do not necessarily
have to be answered by that minimal working criterion. The issue is whether
any particular entity distinct from the physical universe is indeed required
by the observed characteristics of the physical universe. Creationists say
“Yes.” Anybody with any brains says, “No.” A different criterion for
existence enters when the possibility is raised that the creator god does
indeed exist even though its existence is not required by the true observed
state of the physical universe. Lacking evidence to the contrary, it is
logically possible the butler murdered Sir James even if the evidence
pointing to his guilt turns out to be flawed. Likewise it is logically
possible that god exists even if the evidence pointing to its existence is
flawed. In response to that logical possibility a new minimum criterion is
introduced, that of observability. Failing the design justification, we
should at least be able to see or otherwise perceive the creator god. It is
not my intent here to deal with the validity in the abstract of this new
minimum criterion, and there may be legitimate arguments that it is not a
necessary condition. I merely observe that it is introduced in a context
where some criterion for the existence of the creator god is felt to
be necessary or else the design argument would not have had to be introduced
in the first place. My interest at this point is to step beyond these
working criteria and clarify a few general points about the concept of
existence.
A great deal of
philosophical blood has been shed over the meaning of “exists” and, in some
cases at least, we trust that blood has not been shed in vain. Among those
few cases where the meaning of “exists” is important we range the greater
number of theological assertions, usually about god or gods and its/their
minions. So what do we mean when we say, in a theological context for
example, that something exists and what would be the implications of saying
that it did not exist? This is not a topic, as one might expect, that fits
easily inside a fortune cookie. But, since its resolution or at least
discussion is central to rigorous philosophical discussions of god’s
existence, it is fruitful to give some flavor here of the issues involved.
Another minimal
criterion for existence is that something exists if we can talk about it.
More precisely, this minimal criterion states that, for some variable
placeholder, x, and for any constant, F, that stands for a property, the
proposition “Some x is F” and the proposition “There is an x that is
F” are
equivalent. In other words, there is no difference in meaning between
saying, “Among all the marbles in the box, one of them is green” and saying,
“There is definitely a green marble in the box.” At first blush this appears
to be wildly counterintuitive. The box may be empty. More tellingly, it
posits the equivalence of the following two propositions, “Hamlet is a
procrastinator” and “There is someone in the world who is Hamlet and that
person is a procrastinator.” Nevertheless in some contexts, this criterion
is justified, or at least harmless. For example, an astronomer probably
means the same thing if he says “Something is pinging us from Alpha
Centauri” and if he says, “There definitely exists something in Alpha
Centauri and that thing is pinging us.” This minimal criterion of existence
was proposed by
Frege
who in addition made clear, in a revealing
dialogue he had with the German theologian Pünjer, that he
felt it was also an exhaustive definition of the concept of existence. In
technical terms, the fact that you can quantify over something or a class of
things is a sufficient condition for the existence of that thing or
class of things. For Frege this assumption was important in his rejection of
verifiability as a separate criterion of existence and in his defense of the
“existence” of whole numbers. Many have followed Frege in this belief. Gödel
felt that his proof that a sufficiently rich syntactically defined logistic
system did not generate all the tautologies of a semantic interpretation of
that system was a proof of the real existence of some numbers. Meinong, I
understand, let it all hang out. As far as he was concerned, everything we
can talk about exists and that’s that. Many phenomenologists do not endorse
Frege so much as they ignore issues of existence. Whether a thing exists or
not is not as important as what kind of being it has, what is it such that
without it a thing would not be what it is. One criticism of Frege is that
he exposes the vulnerability of his criterion by insisting that any
additional criterion of existence presupposes the existence of things that
do not satisfy that additional criterion. His argument is not so much a
triumph over the principle of perceivable verification as a sign of the
inadequacy of his definition. In partial defense of Frege it may be observed
that an adequate semantics of a logistic system seems to require it. If
there did not exist some entity quantified over in an existential
proposition, then that proposition would not have a truth value in a
semantics with two values. One criticism of the phenomenologists is that
they conflate existence (in the sense of “Does Neptune exist?”) with
essential property. This is particularly glaring in
Heidegger who does not resort to a
theory of mind as a framework for understanding how objects are
“constituted.”
G.E. Moore
once proposed a largely forgotten mixed reaction. In typical fashion he
first presented the arguments why something we talk about or imagine must
exist (His reason is that there is a difference between imagining a centaur
and imagining nothing) and then countered that this led to the absurdity of
assuming that things that don’t exist do exist. His solution was to
distinguish between “has being” and “is real,” that is between “being” and
existence. Everything we can talk about has being, but only some things are
real or have existence. Some such distinction must be made and it is to
Moore’s credit that he saw the need. But he doesn’t go a whole lot further.
For one thing his revised sense of being seems to be exactly equivalent to
“being talked about.” Yet the argument that we can’t talk about something
that isn’t seems to imply something more. Similarly he doesn’t address what
it means to exist in his sense. Famously he talks about sense data like
there was no tomorrow. More critically he admits that properties and
relations exist, but his assumption that those entities exist seems to be
based on nothing more than the fact that we can talk about them - which is
the same as the criterion for something having “being.” Moore’s favorite
choice of words for a thing’s existing is that it is “in the universe.” I
can see nothing more in that than a lexical equivalent. Moore made an
important distinction, but he didn’t explore the consequences.
The Fregean
analysis of existence seems to imply that real world issues of existence
simply don’t, well, exist. Does the hot broad I see depicted on my TV screen
really exist or not? Does the Loch Ness monster exist? Does the tenth planet
from the sun exist? Does ether exist? Does the unconscious exist? What do
we mean when we say Hamlet doesn’t really exist? We deal with issues like
these every day and the answers are often of significance for our actions
and the way we lead our lives. And, of course, theory confirmation in the
sciences often hinges on questions of the existence of particulars. This
appropriate or discriminatory sense of existence is not limited to single
individuals. The general might want to know whether the hostile cavalry that
his spies warn are hiding in the woods really do exist. But aside from
groups that are members of a class whose existence is admitted (The enemy
cavalry belongs, after all, to the class of all cavalries, some of which
really do exist), there are entire classes about which we can wonder whether
they are populated or not. Does anything of the sort exist? For example, do
leprechauns exist? Or Martians. Or feelings, and if so in what sense? Once
again science deals constantly with these sorts of questions when a certain
class of entity is proposed for its role in an explanatory theory. Do gluons
exist? Physics struggles with the verifiability of entities that cannot be
directly observed. Indeed evolutionary biology must deal with the search for
the evidence of phenotype links demanded by a theory.
Another
reaction has been that the Frege criterion is wrong or at least inadequate.
The verification principle and its variants as proposed by the logical
positivists is nothing more, when the dust settles, than a flat rejection of
Frege. One criticism of the verification principle has been that it is too
restrictive. Another is that the principle itself cannot be verified (more
accurately its own verification is inductive and begs the question). Most
importantly it raises significant issues about the nature of verification,
perception, translatability and meaning – issues that it supposedly laid to
rest (If a Martian scientist in translation informs us he has verified the
existence of Venusians, how do we know he means the same thing by his words
as we do?). In my opinion, for whatever that’s worth, Frege’s criterion is
valid in one sense. But what it really establishes is that ontological
issues (The meaning of the term “existence”) cannot be decided by a logistic
system or even by a formal semantics of a logistic system. Moreover, one
important sense of “existence” – the sense we use when we wonder if a thing
exists or not - cannot be defined by a logistic system or by a formal
semantics of a logistic system. The logical sense is non-discriminatory, to
coin a phrase. Obviously any non-discriminatory sense of existence is
unhelpful in deciding whether or not a creator god exists.
Clearly the
logical sense of existence doesn’t say much. God exists but so do talking
toads, unrepentant jim jams, and sadly enough a Jenna Jameson who never had
her breasts reduced. Presumably Xtians, Mahometans and the rest of the foul
crew would be less than thoroughly satisfied with a god that exists because
everything exists, that had to share ontological digs with a Jenna that
never was or thoughts I never had. Without a bit of fancy footwork, the
logical sense of existence could lead to the conclusion that nothing (or
Nothing) exists. So what is the sense favored by religionists when they talk
about an existing god? To date there hasn’t been a really clear answer to
that question; in fact outside the cloisters of Dark Ages philosophy I can’t
think of much of an attempt to address it. Your common or garden Xtian works
mostly with common or garden notions and so behaves consistently in the case
of “exists,” instances of whose everyday use are not that frequent and very
possibly mutually unrelated. The physical sciences, and by extension some of
the daughter sciences, operate with a rather more rigorous and not entirely
unPunjerian concept of “exists.” This concept is discriminatory in that it
allows us to distinguish between entities that do and do not exist.
Something exists if it is observed (a term that is admittedly almost as
troublesome as “exists”) or if its existence is required by a true model.
Subatomic strings would exist only in the sense that we could observe them
or their effects or if their presence is required by string theory and some
version of string theory is true. If something doesn’t fit these criteria,
then by Ockham’s Razor it doesn’t exist. Obviously by these criteria god
doesn’t have a chance since it has not been observed by any non lunatic and
its existence is not required by any physical theory. Dawkins presumably
works with the latter concept of “exists” although he doesn’t really get
much chance to put it into play since biology doesn’t deal with the arcane
near unobservable entities beloved to physicists. (Evolutionary biology
does deal with hypostatized events, however, the criteria for whose
“existence” if you will don’t pose too many problems at least of a
philosophical sort.) Dawkins’ discovery is that, to the extent that God’s
existence fits in any of these appropriate or discriminatory senses of
existence, it is considerably less likely that God exists than, say, the
Loch Ness monster.
Dawkins does
wander off the reservation of the discriminatory concept of existence only,
and then perforce, in his direct confrontations with some theologians whose
notions are neither everyday nor scientific, nor in the end very, shall we
say, clear or distinct. Sometimes when you play the home team you have to
play by their rules and Dawkins does a masterful job of tying them into
knots with their own rules. A more rigorous treatment, however, would need
at the very least the added demonstration that the home team’s rules are the
purest nonsense.
“All these
fancy intellectuals with their logical distinctions really just miss what is
front of their own very own noses. I know that I love the Baby Jesus and
that I talk to him.” Fuck the Baby Jesus.
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