Håvard Skjæveland and the Problem of Evil – Part 1

It seems that my discussion with Skjæveland on the Problem of Evil (i.e., how it supposedly demonstrates the probability that God doesn’t exist) has drawn to a tentative close. And I want to highlight the term “tentative” because he has not exactly given up yet. Let me explain where we’re at thus far and how we got here.

First, a little background information on Skjæveland. He is a 23-year old student from Stavanger, Norway, who is studying web programming. He is an avowed atheist who describes himself as “running pretty high on Richard Dawkins’ atheism scale” which means, I have reason to think, he affirms the ‘strong’ version of atheism. He also admitted to me that his thinking has been influenced by the New Atheist propaganda of Dawkins, Hitchens, Dennet, and Harris. (These gentlemen are reliable on philosophy in the same way that Duane Gish is reliable on science.)

On December 10th he introduced himself to me in an email which described his appreciation of the fact that someone else actually recognizes the fundamental difference between agnosticism and atheism, that the former addresses an issue different from the latter. “I was beginning to think I was alone!” he exclaimed. And in a subsequent email he shared with me a brief synopsis of his atheistic convictions and how he arrived at them. A particularly compelling issue for him, he said, was how convincingly the Problem of Evil undermines Christian theism. (I chose to ignore his thoughts on other religions, e.g., Hinduism, because I have no interest in defending those.) Since I have never encountered a Problem of Evil argument that accomplishes its intended aim—and I have examined many, both historical and contemporary—I thought this could be an issue worth exploring. He agreed to engage me on it.

He began with the logical Problem of Evil argument as presented by Epicurus, whom he cited directly, an argument taken up by others like David Hume and John L. Mackie. However, this alleged problem suffers from a fatal flaw, I pointed out—the definition of ‘evil’. Epicurus and others who submit this problem use the term 'evil' but never bother to define it. Until that term is defined, the problem is a lifeless corpse with no merit whatsoever because 'evil' lies at the very heart of the issue. “If you find the logical Problem of Evil argument compelling,” I said, “it's because you have assumed a definition of 'evil' on behalf of the argument.” I told him that he needed to disclose this definition he was assuming in order to continue examining the problem.

At this point he backed away from the Problem of Evil argument. “I don’t really know how to define evil,” he confessed, and asked if we could approach it as a Problem of Suffering argument instead. “Surely you agree,” he said, “that there is gratuitous suffering in the world,” that God could do something “so that people don’t suffer needlessly.” And I had to stop him right there. First, the Problem of Suffering argument shoulders an enormous burden of proof that has to be met. As the critical mind will detect, asking me to agree from the outset that gratuitous suffering exists is to beg the very question, which is fallacious. Since the supposed existence of gratuitous suffering lies at the heart of the argument—the very issue upon which it is hinged—he cannot simply assume it, nor can he ask me to.

Second, how I understand the term “suffering” differs explicitly from how he understands it (because our metaethics are antithetical, mine being God-based and him being an atheist), so my agreement would only encourage the fallacy of equivocation at any rate. Then I reset the conversation, underscoring the two things that must be established. “If you cannot prove the gratuity of human suffering, the argument fails. If you cannot prove that human suffering is inconsistent with the attributes of God, the argument fails” (viz. omnipotent, omniscient, omnibenevolent).

Skjæveland said he didn’t know how to go about proving the gratuity of suffering “except to come up with hypothetical scenarios” by which to illustrate it. So he called upon the example of rape: “Surely the woman being raped didn’t ask for it and certainly doesn’t deserve it.” Again I had to note the logical fallacy being committed, or possibly two different fallacies. On the one hand, he is possibly committing the fallacy of arguing from incredulity; i.e., “This suffering must be gratuitous because I can’t believe it’s not.”

On the other hand, he is definitely committing the fallacy of begging the question; i.e., “This is gratuitous suffering because it is gratuitous.” How did he commit this fallacy? By stating that the rape victim did not deserve it. Unfortunately, that assumes the truth of the very conclusion to be proved. “I am not trying to suggest she did deserve it,” I said. “It's just that I won't be bullied into a conclusion, if you know what I mean.” Nothing defeats an argument quite like fallacies, by which it defeats itself. They are to be avoided. Does there exist gratuitous suffering? That’s the burden shouldered by this argument, which must be met because if gratuitous suffering does not exist then the argument is a dog with no bite.

On the issue of whether or not human suffering is inconsistent with the attributes of God, Skjæveland had no directly relevant response. The only response he had was, “If God made us this way, doesn’t that suggest that God is at least imperfect?” First of all, God is not imperfect if the history of creation is unfolding precisely as he had planned it, meeting every purpose for which it was designed. Second, I was unable to determine how the angle his response took here adequately meets the burden of proof. The perfection of God was not the issue. The issue is the alleged conflict between human suffering and a God who is omnipotent, omniscient, and omnibenevolent. So I had asked him to clarify, if he could, how his response relevantly answers that issue.

And at this point he backed away from the Problem of Suffering argument too. “I’ll concede the two informal fallacies you bring up,” he said, and further conceded that suffering could be consistent with the attributes of God (although it makes him wonder if God is “toying with us,” which I subsequently answered). “Can we leave the Argument of Suffering behind for the moment, and maybe drive back to pick it up later on?” he asked. “I admit tentative defeat; I need to think about it more and familiarize myself with the issues better.”

The following was my reply, in part:

According to my understanding, you were trying to describe an argument against the existence of God that you thought was compelling. What I was trying to do—the only thing I was trying to do—was critically examine the argument with you to see if it had any rational force. I accept that you found the argument compelling, but I disagree it was for rational reasons. In order to make my case, I had to score the argument rationally (step-by-step with you, in a somewhat Socratic fashion). By proving its logical weakness, I thereby establish that its compelling force could not have been reason.

I don't want to appear as though I am disparaging your intellect. I am personally convinced that you are quite a highly intelligent man. Please understand that. But I do think people should be honest with themselves—in my own opinion, speaking from my commitment to critical thinking. If an argument is proven to be logically untenable, then a person should be honest with himself and admit that its compelling force must have been something other than reason, i.e., that he came to the argument already convinced to some degree.

So here is my suspicion. I think you already sensed on some intuitive level that there was a conflict between what you see as gratuitous suffering on the one hand and the supposed attributes of God on the other, and you gravitated toward arguments that seemed to provide rational ammunition for what you already believed. In other words, the arguments did not convince you, but they were needed as rational support for what you already believed. Maybe by recognizing and honestly admitting that these arguments are logically untenable, a way can be opened for discovering why you think there's a conflict between the world and God.

I know you're not prepared to concede that yet. Given our brief exchange thus far, you are perhaps beginning to see that it's possible these arguments are untenable, but I don't think we've had enough mileage on this yet to convince you. I know only because I've done the homework already; now I'm showing you that homework. We'll get there, but on your terms.

This is where the critical analysis of the Problem of Evil or Suffering rests at this point. I’m pretty sure that we will return to it later, but for now I suspect that Skjæveland wants to (a) intellectually digest the criticisms I had raised, (b) review the arguments put forth by atheist philosophers on this issue, to find out if his presentation was missing something, and if so, what, and (c) to see if any of them adequately address the criticisms I had raised. He never said any of this, mind you; it’s just my suspicion, based on nothing other than the fact that it’s something I would do, having been in a similar position myself at times.

- - -

NB: I just want to underscore one remarkable feature of my present debate with Skjæveland, because its significance simply must not go unnoticed. In all the years I have engaged countless atheists in debate, not a single one has ever conceded (a) the logical fallacies I have pointed out in their arguments or (b) any sort of defeat of their argument. Without any exceptions, every single one of those atheists have insisted that either no fallacies were committed or that I don’t understand what fallacies are—even when the fallacy they commit is almost verbatim identical to the examples given in Logic textbooks I cite from.

I want to formally recognize and acknowledge that Skjæveland is the very first atheist I’ve ever debated who had the personal and intellectual integrity to concede a logical fallacy when indicated and the defeat it incurred. My respect for him can scarcely be measured it is so high. Out of hundreds of atheists, he’s the first. This man has a place of high honor in my estimation.

Håvard Skjæveland and the Problem of Evil

I am currently engaged in an email discussion with a young Norwegian by the name of Håvard Skjæveland on the Problem of Evil argument against the existence of God. (His internet footprint is outdated, he tells me, so take whatever you find about him with a grain of salt.) Our discussion began about four days ago and is still ongoing. Once it is completed, I intend to publish the results here in my blog, having received his permission to do so. Keep an eye out for this. He is a very intelligent, articulate, and respectful young man and our discussion is proving to be quite fruitful, certainly on my end.

(NOTE: As it stands right now, the discussion is shifting away from the problem of ‘evil’ in favour of the problem of ‘suffering’, but I am leaving the title as it is because whether the issue is ‘evil’ or ‘suffering’ the fundamental context is synonymous.)

'Illogical' Doctrine? Prove It.

In a message board conversation I observed someone saying:

The idea of God, having a Son, who is born by a virgin, never sins, never makes a mistake while walking the earth, is crucified, resurrected in three days, and the result of this transpiration of events was the forgiveness of everyone's sins, with the possibility of eternal life with God, is fantastically illogical . . . and this is what makes it great! There is nothing logical in those remarks above. If you contend they are logical, then by all means, make the argument those events are "logical"

"Illogical," he said. An interesting charge, and one that we should not give a pass to. So here is the question that I want to deal with: "What should be the Christian's response to this?" It is a common enough attack, given the typical rhetoric dispensed by atheists, particularly those advocating the 'new atheism' advanced by the likes of Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens, et al.

I think the Christian's response should pay careful consideration to that word being used: "illogical." The response ought not ignore that word. If an atheist wants to claim that these beliefs are illogical, then he should be held accountable for that claim; he needs to present an argument that makes his case. One of two things would happen. The easiest option would be for him to notice how indefensible such an argument is and choose to employ a different, more defensible attack. Obviously that will invoke a different argument, which means this one was wisely abandoned and we can ignore it, focusing our analysis on whatever new attack he proposes.

The other option, of course, is that he will stick to his claim. And it is preferable that he does, I think, because it is the weakest argument he could raise, the easiest one to take apart. I enjoy disemboweling bad arguments, mostly because I enjoy making a spectacle of what 'bad arguments' are. So if he sticks to this attack then the first thing the Christian should do is point out that what we have here is a claim, not an argument. The atheist here has stated his case. Now he must make his case, such as reason obliges him to do. (We are assuming the atheist esteems reason, which they typically profess to do.)

You can see in this anecdotal example that he has tried to shift the burden of proof onto the Christian: "If you contend they are logical," he said, "[then] make the argument [that] those events are logical." He cannot be permitted to get away with this shifting of the burden. Such a tactic is an affront to reason, for by implication it commits the argumentum ad ignorantiam fallacy. What he is essentially saying is, "My case is true unless you can prove it false." And there is nothing intellectually appealing or compelling about fallacious arguments. This is key: If he thinks there is any truth to his claim, then he needs to establish its truth. He must present his ratio veritatis. He cannot simply assume its truth, thinking that it carries weight by the mere force of his assertion (and it is therefore up to the Christian to prove it false). In the arena of critical thinking, that is called an ipse dixit, a Latin term to describe the fallacious sophistry of an unsupported assertion being presented as true by fiat.

Moreover I contend that Christians do not shoulder the burden because there is nothing obviously illogical about those beliefs. For example, there is nothing obviously illogical (i.e., contrary to logic) about a son being born of a virgin. In fact, parthenogenesis has been observed to occur naturally in a variety of species of certain plants, invertebrates, and vertebrates. And given our current understanding about mammalian reproduction, it may seem contrary to science that a virgin could give birth to a child but there is nothing contrary to logic about it. There is a very important difference between science (a posteriori knowledge) and logic (a priori knowledge); they are categorically different, such that when something is contrary to science it does not necessarily follow that it is contrary to logic.

(I would also note that prior to the dawn of the 21st century it was thought that parthenogenesis in mammals was impossible, on account of their imprinted genetic regions. But due to the work of South Korean scientist Hwang Woo-Suk in early 2004 and the Tokyo University of Agriculture shortly thereafter, plus the efforts of the International Stem Cell Corporation from 2007, etc., the creation of human parthenogenetic stem cell lines from unfertilized eggs has been achieved with tremendous success. Just imagine what we will 'know' ten years from now.)

How about the idea that Jesus never sinned? Again, there is nothing obviously illogical about it. (It is debatable whether or not Jesus "never [made] a mistake while walking the earth" because there was a definite religious status quo that he contravened almost routinely; but such does not determine 'sin'.) Something is 'illogical' when it runs contrary to logic qua logic. How exactly does a 'sinless life' run contrary to logic? What principle of logic does it violate? It is certainly not obvious; ergo, it must be shown to be illogical, and this test applies to the entirety of his above claim. Although I think he could make an argument for how certain doctrines run contrary to our common human experience, an entirely different argument is called for when claiming that they violate the laws of logic. Furthermore, to cite a doctrine (e.g., Christ's resurrection) as contradicting our human experience forcefully demonstrates its status as 'miraculous' but it pointedly fails to demonstrate it as 'illogical' because logic is a priori knowledge; it is neither defined by human experience nor a product of scientific inquiry (a posteriori knowledge). On the question of whether something is 'illogical' or not, human experience and science are irrelevant.

So the atheist here, having stated his case, must now make his case. This, reason obliges him to do. And if he wants to stick with his claim about these beliefs being "illogical," his burden is heavy indeed. I would look enthusiastically forward to such attempts because I cannot imagine how one would go about meeting that burden. It would be exciting to observe—or, more probably, anti-climatic.

Tracking the Debunkers (06/Nov/08)

During the last four days there has still been nothing posted at Debunking Christianity that actually attempts to debunk Christianity. There have been three posts: one regards a debate between John Lennox and Michael Shermer; another is Loftus requesting help with some research project, asking Christians to answer what best explains animal suffering; and the third is Garman wrestling with the concept of one being 'evangelical' with one's atheism.

Well done, Loftus. Way to prove Christianity false.

Tracking the Debunkers (02/Nov/08)

This evening I discovered a new blog. It is not the blog itself that is new; it is simply new to me, as I had not previously encountered it nor had it brought to my attention. (I have not yet figured out a way to determine the date a blog was created when it does not display any navigation by 'date'. Someone should create a service that simplifies this area of research.)

At any rate, it should be a blog of considerable interest to me, considering what its title is: Debunking Christianity. That is surely a grand task, particularly when its founder concedes that to 'debunk' means to "show something to be false" (which he cites from the Encarta® World English Dictionary from Microsoft). Since the stated task of this blog is to show that Christianity is false, I will be tracking its entries to see if any measure up to the task the authors set before themselves.

As far as I understand, the blog was founded by a gentleman named John W. Loftus, who describes himself as a minister-turned-atheist residing in Fort Wayne, Indiana, and author of Why I Became an Atheist (a book I will now have to review, if I can find someone who wishes to rid themselves of their copy) whose participation at TheologyWeb (under the name 'Doubter John') has garnered him a questionable reputation. However, Debunking Christianity is home to a number of additional contributors of varying backgrounds; even though Loftus is of particular interest to me, I will critique any post regardless of its author.

From this point onward (November 2, 2008) I will examine entries made at Debunking Christianity to see if they accomplish what they set out to do.

The Spectator Speculates on Whether Richard Dawkins Has Changed His Mind (by John Loftus).

In this post Loftus reports on a comment that Richard Dawkins reportedly made during a second debate with John Lennox at Oxford's Natural History Museum (21/Oct/08, as reported by Melanie Phillips at The Spectator). However fascinating it might be to observe Dawkins burying himself in deeper layers of irrationality, none of this has anything to do with Christianity.

Has Loftus met the task of proving Christianity false? No.

Vote Your Conscience... Please! (by John Loftus)

In this post Loftus comments on the current U.S. Presidential election, lamenting on the inadequacies of the nominated candidates from the three leading parties (Republican, Democrat, Libertarian) and his angst over who to cast his vote for, since he has little confidence in their platforms or policies.

Has Loftus met the task of proving Christianity false? No.

Pat Condell: "Provide Evidence or Expect Mockery and Ridicule" (by John Loftus)

Admittedly I have not watched the embedded video to this post, but given Loftus' commentary it does not seem to meet the task of debunking Christianity anyhow. From what I can gather, it is rather Condell's advice for polemic approach. I will have to watch the video to confirm, but at this point it seems unlikely it even approaches their task.

[Edit 02/Nov/08: I have now watched the video and, indeed, it has nothing to do with proving Christianity is false. It is simply Condell describing his forceful bigotry and atheistic fanaticism. Yes, well, that is all quite underwhelming and remarkably irrelevant to anything beyond Condell's biography.]

Has Loftus met the task of proving Christianity false? No.

Inconsistent Skeptics

Some skeptics do not adhere to critical thinking as consistently as they should. In my experience, atheistic skeptics exhibit this lack of consistency the most. Critical thinking is not a commendable heuristic if it gets abandoned whenever it inconveniences a pre-existing bias. Rather, critical thinking ought reshape one's bias, not be tossed out when it threatens one's bias.

For example, a skeptic who adheres to critical thinking consistently (Smith) would refuse to accept some proposition P if there is inadequate epistemic warrant for it. Now, one who does not adhere to critical thinking consistently (Jones) would likewise refuse to accept P at first. Where the inconsistency in critical thinking arises is when Jones takes it a step further and asserts that because P has not been proven true it is consequently false.

This is made more obvious where P stands for "gods exist." It is consistent with critical thinking for Jones to reject P if for him there has been inadequate epistemic warrant for it. However, Jones promptly abandons critical thinking if he asserts that P ("gods exist") is false because it has not been proven true; that is a logical fallacy, argumentum ad ignorantiam. And he further contradicts critical thinking if he also affirms that a lack of evidence for P is somehow itself evidence for ¬P ("gods do not exist"). An absence of evidence is an empty set; 'nothing' in support of P is still 'nothing' when used as an attempt to support ¬P.

Smith is the consistent skeptic when he refuses to affirm that P is true but also refuses to affirm that P is false. It may be false. Or it may be true. The lack of adequate warrant either way means he cannot affirm either; Smith remains agnostic on the question. Jones, in order to be consistent with critical thinking, must do the same. If what Jones wants to affirm is that P is false, critical thinking dictates that he must provide evidence that either (a) supports ¬P or (b) invalidates P.

"I Contend We Are Both Atheists" - Response to Comments 3

The following blog post is a direct response to some of the intriguing comments I have received regarding my criticism of Stephen Roberts' infamous Quote. I think the points being raised are too good to be buried in a Comments field which is inevitably lagging further and further behind in the flow of the blog, comments which certainly deserve their own light of day.

Anonymous said (his comment here):

"The Quote" does not imply that your reasons for dismissing other gods are the same as Stephen's reasons for dismissing yours. It merely states that when you UNDERSTAND your own reasons for dismissing those other gods, you will UNDERSTAND his reasons. I suspect that since you do not even UNDERSTAND the quote, you will not make the mental effort to UNDERSTAND either his reasons or your own.

First of all, I would encourage you to assume a name. Make one up if you have to, but please assume a name by which I can identify your arguments. Anyone can contribute as "Anonymous" and I would have no way of knowing if it was you or not.

Now, regarding your comment. I already know the Quote does not imply that our reasons are the same. The content and context of the Quote and Roberts' elaboration thereof both make that pretty obvious. My criticism argues from the understanding that the Quote implies our reasons are similar. That is the implication the Quote makes, and it is rather candid about it. So I will let the readers determine for themselves whether or not I understand the Quote, particularly by my responses here.

(Keep in mind that my criticism regarded the Quote and, by extension, Roberts' elaboration of it. My criticism did not, and cannot, regard your own views nor your perspective of the Quote. Any objection that indicates how my criticism fails to account for some perspective of yours only demonstrates a misunderstanding of my criticism itself. I am certainly able to offer a critique of your perspective on a given subject but that is not what I had done; yet it is my criticism of the Quote that you had responded to.)

What does the Quote itself say? I am going to direct our attention to the verifiable facts here, in an effort to keep this discussion relevant and intellectually honest. What does it actually say? It says that when you "understand why you dismiss all the other possible gods," then you will "understand why I dismiss yours" (emphasis supplied). And then Stephen Roberts himself stopped by this blog—which really made my day, quite frankly, since I had not heard from him in so long—to elaborate not only on the meaning of the Quote but also on what for him, as the originator of the Quote, is the real "meat" of it; specifically, that "if [theists] really understood why they don't believe in the other gods they might understand why their god is hard to believe in too" (emphasis supplied).

These facts are not really disputable. Anyone can independently verify them. Right? Especially when I openly provide the relevant links. The Quote was already fairly clear, and Roberts himself made it clearer still: the fundamental point is that if the Christian theist openly and honestly understands "why" he dismisses all the other possible gods then he will understand "why" the atheist dismisses God (or finds him hard to believe in, at best). In both the Quote and in Roberts' elaboration, the "why" test (reasoning) is the real meat or force of the Quote.

This fact becomes even clearer when one sees there are two questions which the Quote logically and naturally raises in our minds. The first question is, "Why does the atheist dismiss God?" And the second question is, "Why do I (the Christian theist) dismiss all other possible gods?" As I understand it, and Roberts likewise pointed out, the second question essentially acts as the springboard to the answer for the first question; i.e., answering the second question ought to enlighten and enable the Christian theist to discover the answer for the first question.

And my contention has been just this: "Is that actually the case?" Is there any real correlation between the answers to each question? Put it another way: Is it true that by honestly examining and understanding my own reasons for why I dismiss all other possible gods I will be enabled to understand why the atheist dismisses God? The force of my contention, of course, is borne upon the rather unequivocal answer, "No, there is no correlation." Because—

[and here is the essential thrust]

—if I honestly examine and understand my own reasons for why I dismiss all the other possible gods, I actually discover that they have no possible relationship with the atheist's reasons for dismissing God. None, zero. For example, my reasons (for dismissing all other gods) operate from the presupposition of God's existence. The epistemologies and heuristics on either side of the debate differ quite drastically, and at their most foundational levels. Not even the ground or nature of logic itself bears any similarity between us; for the Christian theist, logic is grounded in the very nature of God, and this cannot be said for the atheist—any atheist whatsoever. This is precisely why the theist's reasons (for dismissing all other possible gods) do not, in fact, offer any insight of understanding into the atheist's reasons (for dismissing God).

But notice something compelling here, equally relevant and interesting. The force of this argument can also be shown from the opposite side; i.e., flip the scenario around and it still bears this truth out. If I genuinely and honestly understand the atheist's reasons for why he dismisses God, based as they usually are upon an epistemology grounded in some form of empiricism, I discover that his reasons for dismissing God do not have any kind of relationship to my reasons for dismissing all other possible gods. Our epistemologies are grounded and structured quite differently. And that is the very point of my contention, originally and now expanded upon in this post: the theist's reasons and the atheist's reasons are not even similar, much less the same. This is why the second clause of the Quote is unintelligible. It is simply false (i.e., it bears no correspondence with reality). As I had said previously, the reasons why Roberts rejects God and the reasons why I reject "all other possible gods" are very different: "Being informed of Stephen's reasoning does not inform anyone of my reasoning, nor vice versa."

The first clause of the Quote is incoherent. And its second clause is false. I cannot understand why anyone would want to champion the Quote. (Well, actually I can, but that is the threshold beyond which my skepticism gives way to my cynicism. My skepticism I can defend; my cynicism is more rant-ish.)

jaydecay57 said (his comment here):

I believe the point of the quote is to illustrate the fact that any believer in a monotheistic religion can so readily dismiss all other gods as easily as any atheist, yet can cling so tightly to one slight variation from the others without providing an acceptable reasoning behind their choice.

I do not believe the Quote has anything to say about whether or not a theist has the intellectual honesty and integrity to provide "acceptable" reasoning behind his choice. (And I can level a significant and substantive criticism against atheists pontificating to others what "acceptable reasoning" is.) Let me explain what I mean. Whether the Christian provides his reasoning or not, the Quote is asking him to authentically examine and understand his reasons for dismissing all other gods, and that by doing so he will better understand the atheist's reasons for dismissing God. And my criticism shows how this fails the test, i.e., that it is simply not true, that it does not correspond to anything in reality.

Truthfully though the REAL point of the quote (I feel) is to make atheists smile and say "That's what I've been trying to say all along!"

Perhaps. But what those atheists "have been trying to say all along" is still incoherent and false, respectively, if it mirrors the first and second clause of the Quote. Like I said, if the Quote is really just humorous nonsense that atheists find entertaining, if it has nothing substantive or real to say about Christian theology, then I should not find any atheists arguing against me if I post about how nonsensical the Quote is. They felt the same way before I even posted, right? As I said before, "It is amusing but incoherent. Great. A smile, a nod, and now let's move along to authentic, intelligible dialogue." Why waste time over something everyone agrees is neither intelligible nor substantive?

I will give you that believing in a god is logical. However all the logical reasons to believe in a god are inherently demeaning to the believer (Fear of the unknown, gullible, ignorant, and other admittedly mean sounding words) which may be why it is difficult for some to see that it is in fact rather silly to say no other god exists except the one you have arbitrarily chosen from the myriad of other choices.

Evidently you have not listed "all the logical reasons to believe" because I did not find in your list any of the reasons argued for in systematic theologies or philosophical texts, nor any of the reasons I happen to hold. That is a lot to have left out. I think maybe there are logical reasons you do not even know about (I do not want to assume there are some you know about and willfully omitted); critical reasoning would dictate that as an opportunity to exercise a tone of intellectual charity, admitting there could be logical reasons you have not informed yourself about, instead of rashly declaring that you have listed all the logical reasons to believe. I am assuming, of course, that you hold critical thinking skills in high regard when dealing with competing views. I hope it is a correct assumption.

How do you expect not to be ridiculed?

Because I champion reason, critical thinking, and skepticism. Perhaps fundies might ridicule me for that, but not fellow thinkers and skeptics. In my limited experience, they usually demonstrate appreciation for such things being championed, not ridicule. And no, "skeptic" is not a synonym for "atheist."

...you actively chose one God that fits you and ignoring all other possibilities, called it truth.

You assume I ignored all other possibilities. I am not sure you have a defensible basis for such an assumption.

But you are correct, I do not determine truth. I discover it—which can happen when one pursues it.

If one [god] is absurd, it inevitably means they all are.

It is not obvious how that follows logically. I would love to see the premises that render such a scandalous conclusion.

This is all rather mean sounding, I know, and I do apologies a little, but under the guise of the internet I am safe from your e-god's scorn...regardless, I can take it as easily as I can dish it out, so feel free to bash my grammar and liberal use of ellipsis. I also fully realize that I'm just as ignorant as you and we're all in this thing together...I'm just able to admit and embrace it.

I fully and genuinely appreciate your contributions. When people leave their bigotry outside and enter into an authentic conversation on ultimate issues, it can plant seeds that end up shaping the ideas and beliefs of the participants. That is what this blog is all about: the conversations and experiences that shape my itinerarium mentis.

"I Contend We Are Both Atheists" - Response to Comments 2

Finally, after a few more subsequent comments posted to my original article (despite that blog being 'Closed'), I received a comment that actually has something intelligible to say—ironically, from Stephen Roberts himself! It has been quite a few years so it was a pleasant surprise to hear from him again. It's nice running into you again, Stephen!

Although he posted his comment to a different blog post ("No Theist Is An Atheist"), it nevertheless regarded my critique squarely and, quite refreshingly, had something intelligent to say. Stephen's comment (3/Jan/08) stated:

Hey David, Stephen here! After the quote came up in another forum I read, I ego-surfed across this post and figured I'd drop by and say hi!

Yes, I know the usage of "atheist" in the quote is incorrect since if a person believes in any kind of god they are a theist, not an atheist. But I think it still work because it helps them to think about the fact that they are also non-believers for other gods.

But the real "meat" of the quote is the second part about how if the theist really understood why they don't believe in the other gods they might understand why their god is hard to believe in too.

If I would have been writing a philosophy book, I probably would have come up with better wording or at least better phrasing. But even with its flaws, its kind of nice to see the quote still wander around and mean something to some people :-)

I appreciate his candor, and his concession that the "we are both atheists" clause is untenable. At least someone, finally, possessed enough sense to concede that this feature of the Quote is inherently faulty. Unfortunately, it was the author only. Everyone else that comments still tries to retain it, tenaciously blind to the contradiction. My hat's off to Stephen.

Nevertheless, the real 'meat' of the Quote is still faulty (but not as obviously). I can appreciate the point Stephen is trying to make, but I have to wonder if he is cognizant of the fact that the only people who will agree with him are those who already adhere to an epistemology similar to his. Unless I am mistaken, Stephen subscribes to a form of empiricism, i.e. the degree to which some proposition outside science can be given scientific support or can be reduced to science, to that degree the proposition becomes rationally acceptable. It is for this reason that theistic claims are said to shoulder an empirical burden of proof. (I invite Stephen to correct me if I am wrong.) From my understanding, that is why he rejects all possible gods, including the God of Christianity: because claims of their existence are bereft of empirical evidence to substantiate those claims.

If that is the case, then the question immediately presents itself: Is that the reason why Christians "dismiss all the other possible gods"? Is it because those other god-claims are without empirical evidence substantiating them? No, that is not their reason, because (a) they do not subscribe to any formulation of empiricism, for it is antithetical to orthodox Christian theology, and (b) they know that reasoning this way, for them, commits the Special Pleading fallacy. (This fallacy is committed when you reject all other gods because they lack substantiating empirical evidence, while making an exception, without good reason, for your own God who likewise lacks said evidence.)

Therefore, the only people who will agree with the second clause are necessarily those who already adhere to an epistemology similar to Stephen's. How so? Because he asserts that once "you understand why you dismiss all the other possible gods, you will understand why I dismiss yours." It naturally follows that this clause requires its subject to hold a similar epistemology. Consider: we first discover the reason he dismisses all possible gods, and we then look to see whether or not that is the same reason Christians dismiss all other gods. So then what happens when Stephen encounters Christians, who do not subscribe to an epistemology similar to his? Suddenly this Quote is unsound, collapsing under the fact that it is untrue with respect to the subject it is addressing (Christians). It is true for only a specific segment of the human population: those who already share his epistemic views. With regard to everyone else, it is false.

To summarize in brief: (1) I look at Stephen's reason for dismissing all possible gods and I admit, "That's not my reason for dismissing them"; (2) and if Stephen considered my reason for rejecting all other gods, he would admit, "That's not my reason for dismissing them." In other words, this second clause—

When you understand why you dismiss all the other possible gods, you will understand why I dismiss yours.

—is false, when regarding all those who adhere to an epistemology different from Stephen's empiricism. The reason he rejects all possible gods and the reason I reject all other gods are, in fact, two very different reasons. Being informed of Stephen's reasoning does not inform anyone of my reasoning, nor vice versa.

Carl Sagan & Scientistic Nonsense

If we long to believe that the stars rise and set for us, that we are the reason there is a Universe, does science do us a disservice in deflating our conceits?

Thus wrote Carl Sagan, in the first chapter of The Demon-Haunted World: Science As a Candle in the Dark (Random House, 1996), one of his more popular books which sets out to "explain the scientific method to laymen, and to encourage people to learn critical or skeptical thinking." It is ironic, therefore, to find him here thrusting science into areas unrelated to it and making a fine display of very poor reasoning. Sagan, although he loved science, was certainly not a philosopher, yet both skepticism and critical thinking are philosophical subjects, not scientific ones. As much as I loved Sagan, he really ought to have avoided the folly Dawkins persists in, by keeping aware of his limitations: stick to what he knows, and avoid speaking on things which he clearly was not adequately versed.

It is categorically impossible for science to deflate our conceits (as he put it) when it comes to the issue of whether or not we are the reason there is a Universe. The scientific method empowers us to discover the structure and evolution of the Universe, on the whole as well as its parts, but it has nothing to say about teleology or the reason why the Universe exists. Science simply has nothing to say about the purpose or meaning of any thing; such comes from a different discipline: philosophy, that discipline which is the very foundation upon which science itself is based and from which it is enabled to operate in the first place. Affirming science consistently as the ultimate paradigm of rationality leads inexorably to rank self-stultification whose end is nihilism and the abdication of knowledge and reason altogether.

Science cannot "do us a disservice in deflating our conceits," sir, when it comes to the purpose of the Universe's existence, because science does not do business with purpose or meaning; it can examine certain properties of the Universe but it cannot tell you why the Universe exists, much less rule mankind out as the reason. One can discuss the purpose or meaning of the Universe but to do so is to engage metaphysics, not science.

Attributes of God: Omnipotence

David Cramer in one of his posts had a couple of brief comments about omnipotence with respect to logical contradictions:

The historic, orthodox definition of omnipotence can be stated as follows: "God can do anything that it is logically possible to do." Don’t get too wrapped up in the "logically possible" language. All that means is, if something can be done, God can do it. So, for example, God can’t both exist and not exist at the same time, because that is not "logically possible" to do. But, I don’t think this places any limitations on what he can do.

These comments of his recalled to my mind a question, related to this issue, that someone had asked me earlier this year. I want to share with both the readers and Cramer himself the answer I had replied to her with. Her question was posed to me in the following way (followed by my response):

Perhaps you can answer why God would not be able to create a state of affairs that violates the law of non-contradiction in some way?

Sure, but perhaps in a way that you might not expect.

Let nT stand for some self-contradiction.

It is not the case that God is unable to actualize nT. Rather, it is that nT is incapable of actualization. The former is a statement about God (and incompatible with omnipotence). The latter is a statement about nT (and says nothing about God). This is why Thomas Aquinas notes, "It is more exact to say that the intrinsically impossible is incapable of production, than to say that God cannot produce it."

The distinction that Aquinas underscores here is the fact that its impossibility is not due to some extrinsic feature (that which it has in relation to some thing outside itself); in other words, the idea that no agent can produce it is not what makes nT impossible. Rather, it is due to an intrinsic feature (that which it has in and of itself); in other words, the idea that it is incapable of production in and of itself, regardless of any agent, is what makes nT impossible.

Omnipotence is a concept which conveys the ability of God to perform all tasks subject to power, the accomplishment of which can never be frustrated by an obstacle. But a self-contradiction is an intrinsically impossible non-entity (i.e., it cannot be analytically conceived in itself without contradiction), which means that it is neither a task to be performed nor an obstacle against the accomplishment of one.

I shall borrow from an argument presented roughly ten years ago by Chuck Johnson (an atheist from the newsgroup talk.atheism) to underscore this distinction.

Let U stand for 'the universal set of tasks' and let T stand for 'some proposed task'.

1. Omnipotence is the ability to perform every member of U.
2. If T is logically possible, then T is a member of U.
3. If T is logically impossible, then T is not a member of U.
4. If T is not a member of U, then T is a non-task nT.
5. All nT form a null set Ø.

So it is immediately obvious that to ask if an omnipotent being can perform any members of a null set Ø is very absurd. It would be incorrect to say that he cannot; rather, it is that there is nothing there to perform. Aquinas again: "It is more exact to say that the intrinsically impossible is incapable of production, than to say that God cannot produce it."

Let me elaborate on this.

Intrinsic impossibilities do not limit omnipotence at all. Self-contradictions, by virtue of being two mutually exclusive properties, carry their impossibility within themselves; i.e., it is intrinsically impossible for them to have occupancy in the same universe at the same time—under all conditions and in all worlds and for all agents. "All agents" here includes God himself, Lewis notes in his book The Problem of Pain (HarperCollins, 2001), explaining further that God's omnipotence

means power to do all that is intrinsically possible, not to do the intrinsically impossible. You may attribute miracles to him, but not nonsense. This is no limit to his power. If you choose to say 'God can give a creature free will and at the same time withhold free will from it,' you have not succeeded in saying anything about God: meaningless combinations of words do not suddenly acquire meaning simply because we prefix them [with] the two other words 'God can'. It remains true that all things are possible with God: the intrinsic impossibilities are not things but non-entities. It is no more possible for God than for the weakest of his creations to carry out both of two mutually exclusive alternatives; not because his power meets an obstacle, but because nonsense remains nonsense even when we talk it about God (p.18).

Herein lies the key concept: omnipotence regards power, but self-contradictions have nothing to do with power. Why? Because omnipotence has no reference to that which is not an object of power, e.g., that which is self-contradictory. Let this be our maxim: If the impossible could become possible or actual simply by applying power to it, then it was never impossible to begin with, but merely difficult. That which is impossible remains impossible regardless of any power applied. Think about what the paradox question implies. To suggest that nothing is impossible given sufficient power (omnipotence) is to deny that real contradictions exist; i.e., given sufficient power, the impossible is actually possible, albeit difficult. But to toss logic out the window is to toss out the baby with the bathwater! The non-believer who makes such an argument accidentally proves too much: if neither logic nor contradictions really exist, well then, the very objection he started out with vanishes.

Omnipotence regards the power of God to accomplish all things which are subject to power, and that power is never frustrated by an obstacle; self-contradictions, as non-entities, can be neither objects of power nor possible obstacles to it. (Refer to my argument at the beginning.)

What does omnipotence actually mean? "God can do all things the accomplishment of which is a manifestation of power," said twelfth-century philosopher and theologian Hugh de St. Victor. "Omnipotence is maximal power," cites the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Omnipotence regards the power of God to accomplish all things which are subject to power. In all dictionaries, encyclopedias, and systematic theologies I have encountered, omnipotence is defined as: having unlimited or universal power; all-powerful; the state or quality of being all-powerful; the state of having unlimited power. Omnipotence does not mean—and has never meant—the ability to bring about a self-contradiction.