Doxazo Theos

New Website!

2006-08-12T00:04:00.000-07:00

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Doxazo Theos

Can You Still Be A Christian and Reject the Bible?

2006-08-06T23:23:00.000-07:00

As the title suggests, I want to briefly explore the idea of whether or not one can still be a Christian and at the same time reject the Bible. I would answer that question in the positive. But to go any further, I’ll have to unpack what I mean by “reject.”

Reject the Bible as what? Obviously, if one rejects the Bible’s central assumptions as true, such as the existence of God or the deity of Christ, one cannot be a Christian in the Orthodox sense. So I do not think it possible to remain Christian while simultaneously denying such things (despite what the Jesus Seminar, Crossan in particular, will have you believe). I mean to ask whether it is still possible to be a Christian and hold that the Bible isn’t a reliable set of documents or is in some way historically unreliable or untrustworthy.

The question of whether the Bible is historically reliable has been a subject of much research and debate. Here I use the term “historically reliable” to refer to a document which by historical reason can be shown to host information of events that most probably happened at some point in that past. But how much does it really even matter if the Bible is historically reliable on these grounds? It seems to me not much at all, for the central truths of Christianity aren’t contingent on the reliability of scripture. This is why I think one can still be a Christian and reject the Bible as historically reliable—for even if the information in the New Testament, for instance, isn’t or can’t be shown historically reliable, it doesn’t follow that the information therein is not true.

Of course I believe the Bible is and can be shown historically reliable in this sense, but the point is this: the Bible itself is not what warrants Christian belief—rather, the source which warrants Christian belief is the Holy Spirit, who conveys the necessary truths of Christian belief to the subject (the existence of God, the gospel message, the inspiration or even the reliability if the Bible). That’s why I’m not impressed by people like Ken Ham, the die-hard King James users, or anyone else who seemingly condition Christian belief on the basis of one’s particular views on the Bible, who aren’t so much worried about concept as they are construct. That’s also why I find arguing against the reliability of scripture as evidence against Christianity to be moot.

How many times have you heard someone cast skepticism on the Bible as reason not be a Christian? This, if nothing else, would be one way to show how that excuse rings hollow.

The Conceptualist Argument

2006-07-24T23:52:00.000-07:00

*A substantially updated version here*

An argument which I think is begging for a more contemporary and public defense is the conceptualist argument for the existence of God.1 You’d be hard pressed to find it given a fair treatment of more than a few sentences at best or a passive mention at worst in a typical introductory apologetics text (and unfortunately even thicker books as well). The argument isn’t totally neglected, however. Greg Bahnsen used a form of this argument as his devastating weapon of choice in his lively debate with Gordon Stein.2 More recently, William Lane Craig sometimes uses it in his some of his debates.3 Interestingly enough, prominent atheist philosopher Quinten Smith has developed a version of the conceptualist argument that has become quite popular.4 The conceptualist argument is named for its relevance to the philosophical view known as conceptualism, which holds that abstract objects are metaphysically grounded in the mind of an agent. But, according to the argument, abstract objects aren’t metaphysically grounded in just any mind, but an ultimate (omniscient), divine mind. That being said, the main focus of the conceptualist argument is the (seemingly) peculiar existence of abstract entities.

Usually contrasted with concrete objects, abstract entities are things like numbers, sets (and other mathematical entities), propositions, properties (and universals), values, relations, laws, theories, etc. What all of these entities seem to have in common is the curious possession of positive ontic status without spatiotemporal extension. That is to say, an abstract object is a real entity that does not exist in space and time. Something exists in space (or time) if it has spatial (or temporal) duration or location.5 If something has spatiotemporal duration, that is to say it has a length, height, size, etc. If something has spatiotemporal location, it exists at a certain place during a certain time; we could ask or its whereabouts and when-abouts. But abstract objects seem to lack spatiotemporal duration and location. So if we take numbers as abstract entities, for example, it would be nonsensical inquire of the number 2’s dimensions or whereabouts. Or in the words of Corey Washington, “When's the last time you bumped into the number one? When's the last time you slipped on the concept of truth? Or saw a justice sitting by the side of the road?” In addition to being immaterial and timeless, abstract entities are generally understood as being utterly effete (the number two cannot cause anything) and metaphysically necessary (it exists in every possible world).

The conceptualist argument, in short, is that the best metaphysical grounding for the existence of abstract objects is an omniscient mind whose concepts they are.6 But unfortunately, the argument can get pretty intricate not only in its formulation, but also its defense. But to keep things clear, a tidy outline of it can be as follows:

Abstract objects either:

Abstract objects:

Therefore, abstract objects exist and are mental concepts.
If abstract objects exist and are mental concepts, they exist as mental concepts in the mind of an omniscient, metaphysically necessary being.
Therefore, an omniscient, metaphysically necessary being exists.

Premise (1) should be uncontroversial, for there has traditionally been three main schools of thought with respect to the ontological status of abstract objects: (1a) nominalism, (1b) Platonism, and (1c) conceptualism. Premise (2) would involve a refutation of the alternatives to conceptualism: (1a) nominalism and (1b) Platonism. With that in mind, lets take a brief look at each.

2a. Abstract objects exist.

As just said, to establish this, a refutation of (1a) is in order. (1a) implies the philosophical view known as nominalism. There are varying degrees of nominalism. Most forms of nominalism amount to trying to save a naturalistic ontology.7 If we take naturalism to be the worldview that the only thing that exists is the spatiotemporal universe and nothing more, then there is immediate problem with what to so with abstract objects. Either the naturalist denies their existence outright (extreme nominalism) or he reduces them to spatiotemporal entities and/or mere linguistic or categorical referents (nominalism and moderate nominalism) that don’t have objective meaning (fictionalsim). Arguments against nominalist views are numerous and complex, but I’ll only note a few that can generally be raised against them all. First, it is extremely hard to see how we can, in theory, reduce or eliminate the entire realm of abstract objects and not have our knowledge of the physical world severely depreciated if not precluded. Abstract objects seem truly indispensable. Second, most forms of nominalism run into major difficulty with the problem of property exemplification. It seems concrete objects do have properties like shape, color, size and so forth that are not identical to one other nor to the object itself, but are real, independent nonphysical properties had by the object. The realist (or conceptualist in this case) has a straightforward and powerful account for these features. The extreme nominalist has to give his reductive analysis to show this is not the case.

2b. Abstract objects are not independently existing realities.

Again, demonstrating (2b) would be to show (1b) false. (1b) implies the philosophical view known as Platonism. In contrast to nominalism, Platonism in its basic form has us believe that while abstract entities do in fact exist, their existence is nonetheless inexplicable; they exist naturally and necessarily a se. While there are several major arguments often leveled against Platonism, I’ll briefly mention just one.8 The first problem springs from the nature of abstract objects themselves—their causal inefficacy. If abstract objects are truly effete and exist independently from minds, then how is it we have knowledge of them? If Platonism were correct, then it seems reasoning would be impossible. For Platonism would preclude our having a working knowledge of abstract entities like numbers and the laws of logic, each of which are indispensable to our epistemic life.

So it seems neither (1a) or (1b) are plausible accounts for the metaphysical grounding of abstract objects. But that leaves us with (1c); or rather

3. Therefore, abstract objects exist and are mental concepts.

With Platonism, conceptualism affirms the necessary existence of abstract objects but maintains their existence is conceptual in nature; that is, they exist not inexplicably a se but as concepts to be had by minds. But the theist usually has a different kind of conceptualism in mind than what is typically inferred by the term. A basic doctrine of conceptualism holds that abstract objects are grounded in the minds of humans as perceiving agents, as developed by Kant. The theist takes it a step further and argues human minds are an inadequate basis on which to metaphysically ground abstract objects, and so argues further that only an omniscient mind has the capacity to ground such. For our purposes, the former can be called Kantian conceptualism and the latter theistic conceptualism. This distinction leads the theist into a defense of (4), which involves a refutation of the Kantian-type conceptualism:

4. If abstract objects exist and are mental concepts, they exist as mental concepts in the mind of an omniscient, metaphysically necessary being.

Why can’t abstract objects be metaphysically grounded in human minds? Alvin Plantinga provides us with at lest one reason:9

It seems plausible to think of numbers as dependent upon or even constituted by intellectual activity. But there are too many of them to arise as a result of human intellectual activity. We should therefore think of them as... the concepts of an unlimited mind: a divine mind.

The main point is that there are far too many abstract entities that have not yet been the object of human conception. There are multitudes of numbers, sets, properties, etc. not thought of—an infinite amount, even! But if abstract objects exist and are mental concepts, but are not mental concepts of humans, then they must conceptually reside within another kind of mind—a mind that has the capacity to host such (metaphysically necessary) infinitude. In short, if not humanly conceptual on account of our ignorance, abstract objects are most plausibly divinely conceptual on account of omniscience. And so we may now accept premise (4). And this of course brings us to our conclusion:

5. Therefore, an omniscient, metaphysically necessary being exists.

_________________________________________________________

The conceptualist argument is closely related to the transcendental argument for the existence of God.
This debate is freely available online in both audio and transcribed formatting here.
For example, see the Craig-Tooley debate and the Craig-Washington debate.
Quentin Smith, ‘The Conceptualist Argument for God’s Existence’, Faith and Philosophy, 11, 1 (January 1994), pp. 38-49. In fact, the whole chapter is available online here.
I have borrowed this wording from J. P. Moreland, Universals (McGill-Queen’s University Press: London, 2001), p. 17.
This definition is borrowed from J. P. Moreland and William Lane Craig, Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview (IL: InterVarsity Press, 2003), p. 498.
For a good survey of the major arguments against the various forms of nominalism, see J. P. Moreland, Universals (McGill-Queen’s University Press: London, 2001), pp. 23-73. And for the problems naturalists face with abstract objects, namely, properties, see J. P. Moreland, “Naturalism and the Ontological Status of Properties,” in Naturalism: A Critical Analysis, ed. William Lane craig and J. P. Moreland, Routledge Studies in Twentieth-Century Philosophy 5 (London: Routledge, 2000), 67-109.
For a good survey of the major arguments against Platonism, see two articles by Paul Benacerraf, “What Numbers Could Not Be,” Philosophical Review 74 (1965): 47-73 and “Mathematical Truth,” Journal of Philosophy 70 (1973): 661-79.
Alvin Plantinga, "Two Dozen (or so) Theistic Arguments," lecture presented at the 33rd Annual Philosophy Conference, Wheaton College, October 23-25, 1986.

A Successful Ontological Argument?

2006-06-28T23:54:00.000-07:00

The ontological argument, roughly sketched, “purports to prove, simply from the concept of God as the supreme being, that God’s existence cannot rationally be doubted by anyone having such a concept of Him.”1

The ontological argument, by name, has a bad reputation. Skeptics who are familiar with it at least by name are immediately inclined to dismiss it, like Arthur Schopenhauer, as merely a “charming joke.” If you’re lucky enough to get a skeptic who is willing to go beyond even a chuckle, you’ll be hard pressed to find one who then won’t, almost instinctively, remind you of Kant’s and Hume’s infamous refutations (or, if nothing else, simply dropping their names is thought to do the trick). But this isn’t only a skeptic’s observation, but one common among many who’ve considered the argument. For example, a friend once approached me for some advice on how to counter an argument favored by one of her atheist friends. In response, I equipped her with Anselm’s version of the ontological argument, for it seemed to apply. But after I explained it to her, to my surprise, her face told me she was not only dissatisfied with it as a reply to her friend’s argument, but also personally unconvinced by the argument as such (and couldn’t tell me exactly why). Others have nonetheless found it to be of great value—among which include such profound thinkers as Aquinas, Descartes and Leibniz; and contemporarily, Charles Hartshorne, Norman Malcom, and Alvin Plantinga. In lieu of it’s controversial history, the reason for the argument’s sharp division between defenders and detractors remains unsettled. For almost everyone who has written on it has “noted that the argument has about it an air of egregious unsoundness or perhaps even trumpery and deceit; yet it is profoundly difficult to say exactly where it goes wrong.”2

Despite such a bad reputation, some of the contemporary versions of the ontological argument are considered to be sound. Perhaps the most famous of these is Plantinga’s version. Plantinga has greatly devoted himself to studying this argument, and in so doing has come out with his own form that utilizes possible world semantics. Possible world semantics is a syntax used in modal logic to illustrate modal concepts. It is helpful in illuminating the realm of possibility in the metaphysical sense (what could actually be the case given a certain logical state of affairs within a ‘world’ unlike our own). So a ‘world’ can be defined as “a maximal description of reality or a way reality might be.”3 The main thing to understand is that there can be an infinite number of possible worlds, each of which containing a different logical state of affairs (i.e. possibilities), but none of which contain logical contradictions (i.e. there can be no possible world in which a logically impossible state of affairs obtains—such as a possible world in which the proposition “cows both exist and do not exist” is true). Philosopher William Lane Craig describes it this way:

Perhaps the best way to think of a possible world is a huge conjunction p & q & r & s . . . (“&” means “and”), whose individual conjuncts are the propositions p, q, r, s, . . . A possible world is a conjunction which compromises every proposition or its contradictory, so that it yields a maximal description of reality—nothing is left out of such a description. By negating different conjuncts in a maximal description (“-” means “it is not the case that”), we arrive at different possible worlds:

W1: p & q & r & s . . .
W2: p & -q & r & -s . . .
W3: -p & -q & r & s . . .
W4: p & q & -r & s . . .

Only one of these descriptions will be composed of conjuncts all of which are true and so will be the way reality actually is, that is to say, the actual world.4

With that in mind, some definitions are in order to get the full gist of Plantinga’s ontological argument. In his argument, the distinction between greatness and excellence is crucial. Plantinga states “we might say that the excellence of a being in a given world W depends only upon its (non world-indexed) properties in W, which its greatness in W depends not merely upon its excellence in W, but also upon its excellence in other worlds.”5

Plantinga’s Ontological Argument

(1) There is a world W in which there exists a being with maximal greatness.
(2) A being has maximal greatness in a world only if it exists in every possible world.
(3) The property has maximal greatness entails6 the property has maximal excellence in every possible world.
(4) Maximal excellence entails omniscience, omnipotence, and moral perfection.
*(5) Maximal greatness is possibly exemplified.

But for any property P, if P is possibly exemplified, then there is a world W and an essence E such that E is exemplified in W, and E entails has P in W. So

(6) There is a world W* and an essence E* such that E* is exemplified in W* and E* entails has maximal greatness in W*.

If W* had been actual, therefore, E* would have been exemplified by an object that had maximal greatness and hence (by (3)) had maximal excellence in every possible world. So if W* had been actual, E* would have been exemplified by a being that for any world W had the property has maximal excellence in W. But every world-indexed property of an object is entailed by its essence. Hence if W* had been actual, E* would have entailed, for every world W, the property has maximal excellence in every possible world. That is, if W* had been actual, the proposition

(7) For any object x, if x exemplifies E*, then x exemplifies the property has maximal excellence in every possible world

would have been necessarily true. But what is necessarily true does not vary from world to world. Hence (7) is necessary in every world and is therefore necessary. So

(8) E* entails the property has maximal excellence in every possible world.

Now a being has a property in a world W only if it exists in that world. So E* entails the property exist in every possible world. E* is exemplified in W*; hence if W* had been actual, E* would have been exemplified by something that existed and exemplified it in every possible world. Hence

(9) If W* had been actual, it would have been impossible that E* fail to be exemplified.

But again, what is impossible does not vary form world to world hence, it is in fact impossible that E* fail to be exemplified; so E* is exemplified; so

(10) There exists a being that has maximal excellence in every world.

That is, there actually exists a being that is omniscient, omnipotent, and morally perfect and that exists and has these properties is every possible world. This being is God.7

A Simpler Version of Plantinga’s Argument

Plantinga has stated his ontological argument several different ways, some more detailed than others. One of the simpler versions is as follows:

(1) It is possible that there be a being that has maximal greatness.
(2) So there is a possible being that in some world W has maximal greatness.
(3) A being has maximal greatness in a given world only if it has maximal excellence in every world.
(4) A being has maximal excellence in a given world only if it has omniscience, omnipotence, and moral perfection in that world.
*(5) There is a possible world in which maximal greatness is instantiated.

And the analogues of (3) and (4) spell out what is involved in maximal greatness:

(6) Necessarily, a being is maximally great only if it has maximal excellence in every world

and

(7) Necessarily, a being has maximal excellence in every world only if it has omniscience, omnipotence, and moral perfection in every world.

But if (5) is true, then there is a possible world W such that if it had been actual, then there would have existed a being that was omnipotence, omniscient, and morally perfect; this being, furthermore, would have had these qualities in every possible world. So it follows that if W had been actual, it would have been impossible that there be no such being. That is, if W had been actual

(8) There is no omnipotence, omniscient, and morally perfect being

would have been an impossible proposition. But if a proposition is impossible in at least one possible world, then it is impossible in every possible world; what is impossible does not vary from world to world. Accordingly, (8) is impossible in the actual world, i.e., impossible simpliciter. But if it is impossible that there be no such being, then there actually exists a being that is omnipotent, omniscient, and morally perfect; this being, furthermore, has these qualities essentially and exists in every possible world.8

An Even Simpler Version of Plantinga’s Argument

William Lane Craig has offered yet a simpler statement of Plantinga’s argument, one that I’ve found to be quite helpful:

*(1) It is possible that a maximally great being exists.
(2) If it is possible that a maximally great being exists, then a maximally great being exists in some possible world.
(3) If a maximally great being exists in some possible world, then it exists in every possible world.
(4) If a maximally great being exists in every possible world, then it exists in the actual world.
(5) If a maximally great being exists in the actual world, then a maximally great being exists.9

Has Plantinga given us some insight as to how a sound version of the ontological argument might look? Some critics say not. For are not these arguments guilty of begging the question? Presumably we would not believe the key premise in each argument (I have put an asterisk before the number of the key premise in each argument), namely that “it is possible that a maximally great being exists” unless we already thought the conclusion “a maximally great being exists” is true. In other words, we can’t use as a premise in our argument what the argument is trying to establish. But are these arguments guilty of begging the question? A closer look indicates they are not. If you recall, as the possible worlds semantics are used in arguments, we are considering metaphysical possibility. Bearing this in mind it becomes clear that what the key premises entail is quite different from what the conclusion entails. For the insight behind the premises under consideration is not whether it is possible that a maximally great being actually exists, but whether the intuitive notion of a maximally great being is a logically coherent one—for if it isn’t, it cannot possibly exist in some world.

So do we finally have a sound ontological argument? The above arguments are, without question, logically valid. So in order to determine their soundness, the question remains as to what reasons we have for thinking the key premise in each argument is true. To that effect, no one has yet been able to show the idea of a maximally great being incoherent. The great J. L. Mackie tried, but failed.10 Others have since done likewise (Flew and Kai Nielson come to mind). The burden here is obviously on one who wishes to show the idea of God, namely the attributes entailed in the property maximal excellence (omnipotence, omniscience, and moral perfection), internally inconsistent or incoherent. But this is yet to be done. Still some will insist that the argument fails because we cannot know a priori whether each key premise is true. But this objection is weak, if it is to be considered an objection at all. That we cannot know a priori each key premise is true is debatable, on top of the fact that knowing a priori the truth of a proposition is certainly not a good criterion for determining a proposition's rational acceptability. Moreover, even if we didn’t have a way of knowing a priori the truth of the key premises, we could establish them on the basis of a posteriori considerations, at which point we may simply turn to some of the other classical arguments for the existence of God.

Thus, I am convinced that Plantinga has given us a sound ontological argument after all. But for the sake of natural theology, we should, pace Anselm, at least temporarily rename the ontological argument in hopes of restoring its academic respectability.
__________________________________________________________

Richard Taylor, in the introduction of The Ontological Argument (Doubleday 1965), vii.
Alvin Plantinga, ‘The Ontological Argument’, in Philosophy of Religion (Rutgers University Press, 2002), p. 180. A reprint from ‘God and Necessity’, The Nature of Necessity (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1974), pp. 196-221.
J. P. Moreland and William Lane Craig, Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview (IL: InterVarsity Press, 2003), p. 50.
William Lane Craig, “The Ontological Argument,” in To Everyone An Answer (InterVarsity Press, Downers Grove, IL: 2004), p. 126.
Alvin Plantinga, ‘The Ontological Argument’, in Philosophy of Religion (Rutgers University Press, 2002), p. 182.
Where, we recall, a property P entails a property Q if there is no world in which there exists an object x that has P but lacks Q.
Alvin Plantinga, ‘The Ontological Argument’, in Philosophy of Religion (Rutgers University Press, 2002), p. 181, 183-184.
Alvin Plantinga, God, Freedom, and Evil (Eerdmans Publishing Co., MI: 1986), pp. 108, 111-112.
William Lane Craig, “The Ontological Argument,” in To Everyone An Answer (InterVarsity Press, Downers Grove, IL: 2004), p. 128.
J. L. Mackie, “Evil and Omnipotence,” in The Philosophy of Religion, ed. Basil Mitchell (London: Oxford University Press, 1971), pp. 92-93. One response to Mackie, among many, can be found in Alvin Plantinga, God, Freedom, and Evil (Eerdmans Publishing Co., MI: 1986), pp. 12-24.

A Probabilistic Argument for Design from the Contingency of the Universe

2006-03-22T22:31:00.000-08:00

Given the contingency of the universe (the fact that it began to exist), I’d argue that such a premise would serve as good grounds for an excellent probabilistic argument against the rivaling hypothesis that what we observe as being apparent design is due to anything other than a mind (a personal, free agent). To demonstrate this, let us first assume the soundness of the following argument:

1. Whatever begins to exist has a cause.
2. The universe began to exist (I.e. the universe is contingent).
3. Therefore, the universe has a cause.¹

Now let us suppose that the universe is contingent ‘C’ (2) and we observe what appears to be design ‘D’² and yet we believe D to be the result of some natural phenomena ‘N.’ Now in this case, given that we observe D and have accepted the truth of C, It seems to me that C serves as an undercutting defeater for accepting N as following D on C. If this is true, then it follows that we are not justified in believing N as an adequate explanation of D on C and must adopt a new hypothesis to take the place of N. Given our options, not-N only leads us to one other conclusion; namely, that D is the result of a mind ‘M.’

Of course, this only makes sense if you take C to in some way entail M with greater probability than N, which I think it does. For if the universe were caused to begin to exist a finite time ago (C), then the only way to explain how a temporal effect could arise from a timeless cause would be if the cause were a personal agent who has the capacity to freely choose; i.e., (M):³

4. The universe was brought into being either by natural phenomena (N) or by a mind (M).
5. The universe could not have been brought into being by natural phenomena (not-N).
6. Therefore, the universe was brought into being by a mind (M). (DS, 4, 5)

And from that, we can summarize the rest of the argument as follows:

7. The universe is contingent (I.e. The universe began to exist) (C). (From 2)
8. We observe what at least appears to be design in the universe (D).

Therefore

9. The universe is contingent (C) and we observe what at least appears to be design in the universe (D). (Conj, 2, 8)
10. If we observe what at least appears to be design in the universe (D), then it is the result of either natural phenomena (N) or a mind (M).
11. It’s not the result of natural phenomena (not-N). (From 5) 12. Therefore, It’s the result of a mind (M). (From 6)
13. We observe what at least appears to be design in the universe (D).
14. The observed apparent design in the universe (D) is the result of either natural phenomena (N) or a mind (M). (MP, 10, 13)

Therefore

15. The observed apparent design in the universe (D) is the result of a mind (M). (DS, 11, 14)

Ergo, we are (at least) more justified in believing D is the result of M given C than we are N.
____________________________________________________________

My argument doesn’t beg the question by first assuming that God exists as following from premise (3). All premise (3) concludes is simply that the universe has a cause, not that that cause is necessarily God.
Though the criterion for identifying design might differ according to the kind of design looked for and/or the object in question, scarcely anyone would deny that certain facets of the universe, be they observable or unobservable, appear prima facie to be designed. In fact, most arguments against the design hypothesis are themselves attempts to explain away this apparent design-feature of the universe by way of some natural means. So the acceptance D (or premise (8) in my argument) should be uncontroversial.
Though not the explicit aim of my argument, we can establish M (or premise (5) of my argument) on the basis of several other arguments in addition to the one mentioned above, a couple of which I will briefly mention. First, in the words of William Lane Craig, “a changeless, mechanically operating cause would produce either an immemorial effect or none at all.” (see Craig, “Creation and Big Bang Cosmology”) Second, the only entities we know of that could be ontologically independent from the spatiotemporal universe (timeless, immaterial, et al.) are either minds or abstract objects (numbers, sets, propositions, properties, etc.) But abstract objects do not have causal powers/stand in causal relations and therefore couldn’t cause anything. Hence, the cause is by the order of a mind.

Swinburne’s Argument from Beauty

2006-03-02T12:21:00.000-08:00

The main business of natural philosophy is to argue from phenomena without feigning hypotheses and to deduce causes from effects, till we come to the very first cause, which certainly is not mechanical: […] whence is it that nature does nothing in vain; and whence arises all that order and beauty which we see in the world?
—Isaac Newton, Opticks 1730, Query 28.

The concept of beauty has always left me in awe. When confronted with beauty, inevitably my mind begins to meditate on things beyond that which is present during said experience. It’s not so much beauty prima facie that leaves me in wonder (although it does), but that there even is such a thing. However, as mysterious as beauty is, it is perhaps a bigger mystery to me how, given certain beauty, one cannot find it within him or herself to do likewise—begin thinking of something much more vast; something to which such aesthetic marvels owe their existence.

In his book The Existence of God, Oxford philosopher Richard Swinburne lays out several “principles for assessing the explanatory power of theism” and thereafter applies them in “[probabilistic (P)] arguments to the existence of God (h) from various phenomena (e)” (with k representing background knowledge) using Bayes's Theorem. From the nature of the principles of explanation involved, Swinburne goes on to consider the “states of affairs which we can expect to find in the world, if there is a God,” and lists seven possibilities for explaining said observed phenomena. The goal of which is to “show that it is likely that the phenomena would occur if there were a God (that [the probabilistic value of] P(e/h.k) is high).”

Among his teleological arguments, Swinburne proposes his own form of the argument from beauty wherein he entertains principle 6 of the aforementioned principles:

...[T]hat God might have reason to bring about e, and reason to allow the occurrence of e or ~e to depend on processes outside his control, but overriding reason not to bring about ~e. In this case again [the probabilistic value of] P(e/h.k) will be intermediate between 1 and 0, but, intuitively, closer to 1 than under the third, fourth, and fifth possibilities—since there is, as it were, more bias in favour of e. Finally, God may have overriding reason for not allowing ~e to occur. In that case he will himself bring about the occurrence of e; P(e/h.k) = 1.

The value of P(e/h.k) in the intermediate cases will depend, more precisely, on exactly what e is, and in cases where God allows other processes the opportunity to bring about e, how many such other processes have this opportunity, and whether, although their actions are not fully dependent on God's will, they are in any way biased in favour of e or ~e. For example, the less specific is e (i.e. the more distinct states of affairs involve e), the more probable it is a priori that e occur—whether as a result of the action of God or of some creature given by God the opportunity to determine whether or not it occurs. Thus clearly a priori it is more probable that God bring about a universe with regular laws, than that he bring about a universe with the particular laws which our universe has. Or, if e is a state of affairs which any free agent can bring about, and God allows to each free agent the opportunity to bring e about, P(e/h.k) will be greater, the more free agents there are.

Accordingly, in Swinburne’s argument from beauty, k represents ‘an orderly physical universe', e represents ‘a beautiful universe', and h, the hypothesis 'there is a God' (in full, P(e/h.k)). The thrust of the argument is that it is more probable that God exists (h) given the existence of beauty (e) (when e is in conjunction with k) than not. He states, “A priori...there is no particular reason for expecting a basically beautiful rather than a basically ugly world. In consequence, if the world is beautiful, that fact would be evidence for God's existence.” Thus, invoking the existence of God is more probable an explanation than one that doesn’t when accounting for observed beauty in the cosmos: P(e/h.k) has a greater value than P(e/k). Therefore, as Swinburne demonstrates, the argument from beauty serves as a good C-inductive argument (where the premises add to the probability of the conclusion. i.e. make the conclusion more likely or more probable than it would otherwise be) for the existence of God.

I can humbly agree with Hume’s quip that “Beauty in things exists in the mind which contemplates them," but insofar as we agree beauty does in fact exist, what then is left for he who disbelieves but to deny beauty exists at all? Along with Swinburne (as I'm sure even apart from the rigors of philosophical reasoning), I also am therefore inclined to agree with Jean Anouilh that “Beauty is one of the rare things that do not lead to doubt of God.”

Ethics in Public High Schools

2006-02-04T23:38:00.000-08:00

I woke up today, groggy as usual, thinking “I’m totally sleeping in first bell,” which happens to be an elective called “Single Living.” (In other words, loss of academic providence wasn’t too big a concern). But two things prevented my slumber: 1) the coffee I snuck in and 2) a surprisingly fascinating class activity.

For the past week or so, we’ve been ‘studying’ the importance of ethics and values in one’s personal development. Other than grotesque over-simplification, nothing seemed prima facie objectionable in the selected curriculum (a school textbook entitled Married & Single Life, 1992). Today, however, the reading therein expressed blatant espousal of some form of ethical relativism in its sub-chapter “Choosing Values.” Although with relativistic overtones, the section was littered with metaethical notions of right and wrong as intuitive in nature with statements like “how can you be sure the values you put high on your list are the right ones? [Emphasis mine]” For a section geared toward the choosing one’s own values, the fallacy in the aforementioned sentence should be obvious. But that aside, it went on to attempt an answer to that very question: “When you are deciding what to value, ask yourself: Could this be harmful or destructive in any way to me or anyone else? If it could, it probably doesn’t belong on your list of values.” Then, to tie it all together with a real clincher of an example for the conclusion: “Since shoplifting is illegal and causes higher prices for everyone, the lure of excitement should not win out. In general, people agree on the basic issues of right and wrong. These are established in society and have changed very little over the years.”

The reading was followed by an activity in which nine concepts were given, the students being told to determine the value status of each from least to greatest. The options were wisdom & knowledge, spirituality, health, justice, wealth, power, love, physical beauty, and loyalty. The sad part wasn’t so much the inconsistency of the view proposed (moral relativism) in that it simply reduced values from being ‘established in society’ to assuming them inherently good as if platonic givens in just a matter of minutes. The sad part was observing the class’s decisions. Virtually the whole class was divided as to what they took to be the most valuable. There was no dominant category; not even love, which I thought would have been the winner out of sheer emotivism. But not one even held a majority vote. No worries, though, for the teacher was there to repeatedly assure the class that everyone was right, for it’s relative the individual (paraphrased, of course). Not that I was/am approaching this as if on some sort of higher ground than everyone else, but when you teach relativism, the result isn’t unity; that is, until an absolute is smuggled in. The class could not have illustrated more disunity about what ‘good’ was ‘best.’ But not one person stood out of unity with respect to rightly categorizing the concepts as good.

The fact of the matter is this; everything is relative until you relativise an absolute. The temptation to dismiss all the presented options as horribly perverse and to affirm rape and child molestation as good was almost overbearing. But such would have gotten me condemned by my fellow students as well as a trip to the counselor’s office at least! But so long as we take the textbook’s words as true, I don’t see how anyone could justifiably point fingers if I chose to do so, unless, of course, they thought what the textbook said was absolutely wrong.