My friend Philip Kitcher (a philosophy professor at Columbia who also teaches courses on James Joyce!) has written a new book, Life After Faith: the Case for Secular Humanism, based on his Terry Lectures at Yale. After dismissing religions as fairy tales (not his language. for he’s a gentleman), Kitcher gets down to his real issue: how can atheists fulfill the human needs that are met by religion?
I read Kitcher’s book in galleys and thought it was quite good, though I don’t necessarily agree that it’s incumbent on nonbelievers to outline a program for replacing the so-called spiritual needs of humans. It’s my view that those needs, insofar as they exist, will find their outlet naturally, as rivers find the fastest course downhill. That, at least, has been the case in Scandinavia, where the many nonbelievers seem to have their needs met without the “Sunday Meetings” that atheists attend in the US. But I don’t fault Philip for trying, and at least it defuses the theists who accuse us of always destroying and never building.
But I digress. What I want to report is that Kitcher’s book has been reviewed by, of all people, Calvinist philosopher and theologian Alvin Plantinga, who has spent his dotage (and much of his active life as a Notre Dame professor) defending religion and arguing that it’s rational to believe in God. (I have a few choice words about Plantinga in The Albatross.) And Plantinga’s review, in the Notre Dame Philosophical Reviews, is more or less what you’d expect. In short, Alvin doesn’t go after the book’s main message—how nonbelievers can find the comfort that others find in faith—but tries instead to refute Kitcher’s dismissal of religion as fiction.
The existence and work of Plantinga is the best argument I know against teaching the philosophy of religion. Here we have a distinguished scholar of religion, one recognized for his work on philosophy alone, at least judging by the fact that he was a regional president of the American Philosophical Association. Yet Plantinga’s work on religion, though couched in academic-y prose, modular logic, and symbolic logic, is thin, tendentious, and easily refuted by anyone with two neurons to rub together.
And so it is with his dismissal of Kitcher’s atheism. I’ll single out just one or two of Plantinga’s philosophical missteps.
Plantinga first goes after Kitcher’s claim that the diversity of religions in the world, many having absolutely incompatible doctrines with others, is an argument against the truth of religious claims. Here’s how Plantinga (somewhat accurately) characterizes Kitcher’s claims:
As far as I can make out, Kitcher’s argument is two-fold. First, Kitcher is impressed by the fact that “we find an astounding variety in religious doctrines. Impersonal forces, sacred places, ancestors, ghosts, spirits, demons and a wide variety of deities have all figured as supposed manifestations of the transcendent” (p. 7). So the first point seems to be that there is great religious diversity: there are very many different religions, and they frequently contradict each other. He is also impressed by the fact that religion is apparently culture-bound in a significant way. What religious opinions a person has seems to depend, at least in part, on when and where that person is brought up: “To face it clearly is to recognize that if, by some accident of early childhood, he had been transported to some distinct culture, brought up among aboriginal Australians, for example, he would now affirm a radically different set of doctrines” (p. 8).
And here’s Plantinga’s “refutation” of that argument:
True, if I had been brought up as an Australian aboriginal, I would probably not hold the religious beliefs I do hold; no doubt I would not so much as have heard of those beliefs. But, once more, isn’t the same true for Kitcher? If he had been brought up as an Australian aborigine, he would not have held the philosophical and religious beliefs he does hold — including his skeptical beliefs about religion. But what follows from that? Surely not that the beliefs he does hold are almost certainly false. And doesn’t the same go for the religious believer? If she had been brought up as an Australian aborigine, she would not have believed in God; but why should she conclude that her present beliefs are false and that there is no such person as God?
So first, neither the variety of religious opinion nor their relativity to cultural circumstance shows that these opinions are all almost certainly false.
Now you don’t have to be a sophisticated thinker to see the problem with Plantinga’s “rebuttal”. Kitcher is not making a claim about reality, but raising doubts toward other people’s claims about reality. Yes, if Kitcher had been raised in Saudi Arabia, he’d likely be a Muslim and not an atheist (there’s strong artificial selection against nonbelievers on the peninsula). But there’s no parity between holding a belief because you were brainwashed by the locals, and doubting beliefs because you’re rational.
The important thing, though, is that it’s more than the diversity of conflicting arguments that shows one’s faith to be false. It’s the point that John Loftus made with his Outsider Test for Faith: the diversity of faiths, and the fact that one’s religion is almost always the dominant religion in one’s birthplace, means that one should be suspicious of the criteria used to uphold one’s faith. If you think your faith is right and other faiths are wrong, Loftus argues, then you should apply to your own beliefs the same scrutiny you apply to other peoples’. When you do that, you must perforce see that the evidence for the veracity of your beliefs is as nonexistent as is the evidence for the many religions you reject. In other words, you must reject all faith until some evidence accrues that points to one religion as being more truthful than the others. And that—not simply the diversity of faiths and their dependence on geography—is why one should reject all religions. This is the argument Kitcher is making.
Plantinga pulls the same stunt for philosophy:
Kitcher’s book is an exercise in philosophy. The variety of philosophical belief rivals that of religion: there are Platonists, nominalists, Aristotelians, Thomists, pragmatists, naturalists, theists, continental philosophers, existentialists, analytic philosophers (who also come in many varieties), and many other philosophical positions. Should we conclude that philosophical positions, including Kitcher’s low opinion of religious belief, are all almost certainly false? I should think not. But then wouldn’t the same be true for religious beliefs? The fact that others hold religious opinions incompatible with mine is not a good reason, just in itself, for supposing my beliefs false. After all, if I were to suppose my views false, I would once more be in the very same position: there would be very many others who held views incompatible with mine.
The problem is that a lot of the philosophy limned above does not make empirical claims about reality. Existentialism, for instance, is a worldview, not a claim about what is real. Likewise for many ethical systems, like utilitarianism or Rawls’s ideal contractarianism. You can’t say that they can be dismissed simply because some conflict with others, for evidence cannot be brought to bear on the issues. And those philosophical positions that do make such claims (i.e., naturalism), should be subject to evidential scrutiny; and if they fail, they should either be shelved or considered unverified.
Two more points. Plantinga also tries to refute Kitcher’s variety-of-beliefs argument by saying that, well, maybe the details of religions vary, but they all believe in a God, so isn’t that some sort of evidence for the divine?:
Here we should distinguish particular religious beliefs, for example belief in God, from whole systems of religious belief, for example the 39 articles of Anglicanism or the Heidelberg Catechism. Such whole systems are incompatible with each other; but many such whole systems agree on some very important points — the existence of the God of theism, for example. At that level there is vastly less diversity. So Kitcher’s first argument wouldn’t apply to belief in God.
Well, it’s questionable whether polytheism is evidence for God, since it has more than one God, and clearly for Plantinga the monotheistic view is the right one. (Also, whether you’re a monotheist or a polytheist still depends on geography. If you’re raised in south India, you’re likely to believe in many gods.) Further, even for God alone one still requires evidence—evidence that we atheists simply don’t see.
But Plantinga tries to get around that, too, by invoking his infamous sensus divinitatis (“sense of the divine”) that he’s always used as evidence for God. That is, because many people feel that there is a God, that counts as at least some evidence that there really is one. Here’s what Alvin says about that—it’s his classic argument that it is not irrational to be religious:
Apprised of the apparent relativity of her religious and philosophical beliefs to her circumstances of place, time and culture, [the religous person] carefully reconsiders them. It seems to her that she is sometimes in contact with God when she prays; she can’t see how there could be genuine right and wrong apart from God; on many occasions it has seemed to her that there must be such a person as God and that she is in God’s presence. Of course she might be mistaken; but isn’t she entirely rational, entirely within her epistemic rights in continuing to believe?
It seems. . . it seems. . . it seems. It seems, therefore it is. Is that rational? I don’t think so. For one’s desire to believe in God, which comes from brainwashing by others when one is young, doesn’t count as evidence. Those religious feelings aren’t independent, as Plantinga seems to think, of one’s desires. As Voltaire pointed out in 1763, “The interest I have in believing in something is not a proof that the something exists.” And what, for crying out loud, are the “epistemic rights” that Plantinga touts? The right to believe whatever nonsense you want? Fine, let people so believe. But that doesn’t mean that those beliefs are rational, or should be respected by those of us who feel that strong beliefs should be supported by strong evidence.
I’m afraid that the score of this bout is Kitcher 7, Plantinga 0.
h/t: Mark
I must admit, Plantinga does (inadvertently) make a mighty powerful argument for the futility of philosophy….
b&
Yes, doesn’t Jerry make a mistake here? I do use Loftus’s Outsider Test for philosophy.
Even noting that some philosophy is more a claim on philosophy than outside areas (existentialism) does not cut it.
Inasmuch as existentialism concerns the workings of other philosophy it makes claims on existence. (Isn’t that what the name means?)
And as those other areas makes claims on nature (e.g. the workings of science), they are part of the constraints and claims. It would be like claiming that measurement theory does not describe measurements in other sciences, its very purpose.
Philosophy is multitudinous, has no intrinsic means of adjudicating truth/correctness/fact, and is dependent on birthplace. (Continental philosophy, German idealism, French feminism, Franckfurt School, Western marxism, …; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Continental_philosophy ).
I resent that you represent Plantinga as a chipmunk.
He should be represented by a chipmunk’s nut…Or as a plant named Inga(crabgrass).
Yes, very insulting to the chipmunk.
But I feeeeeeeeeeeeeeel so deeply. QED.
“Now you don’t have to be a sophisticated thinker to see the problem with Plantinga’s “rebuttal”.”
I think it’s more than that:
Rational inquiry will, in every culture, lead you to atheism, but mere faith leads you in different directions.
Nice & simple.
I think there’s a third (and, if I may beat my own drum, stronger) argument to come out of the observation of many geographically-related religions. It is that the methodology of religious belief is wildly imprecise and therefore useless and not to be trusted. Many billons of people coming to tens of thousands of different revelatory conclusions about God tells us that revelation and authority as methods do not converge, and are not credible. Even if one particular revelation turns out to be corret, nobody right now is rationally justified in trusting it as a method.
I liken this imprecision in revelation to a bathroom scale that tells you your weight +/- 1,000 pounds. Even assuming the scale were to give you an accurate answer over a long series of iterations – which is assuming a lot, but hey, let’s give the theists all the benefit of the doubt we can – it is useless as a method. That’s not an instrument for weight measurement you use, it’s an instrument you throw in the garbage. Likewise, theology based on revelation and divine authority (such as holy books) is useless as a method of enquiry into metaphysics. It is not an instrument anyone has any rational cause to use.
Yes, that’s one of the main messages of The Albatross, and the major reason why science and religion are incompatible.
We exist. I am real, you are real; we are real beings that exist in a natural world. If God exists then God is a natural phenomenon not supernatural.
Or is that too simplistic?
In the face of Sophisticated™ Theology, yes.
/@
Indeed! I might go as far as to say human senses and emotions in general are useless in finding the truth about the world, which is why the key success of the scientific method is to root out and eliminate all the potential biases of our flawed faculties. I love the faulty scale analogy, even as I resent what accurate scales tell me in the wake of holiday overindulgence.
Restated: your own religious beliefs are most likely based on the same methodology as those of people of other faiths. This is basically the outsider test of faith.
Wc brings us back to Stephen Roberts: “I contend that we are both atheists. I just believe in one fewer god than you do. When you understand why you dismiss all the other possible gods, you will understand why I dismiss yours.”
I can tolerate Swinburne fans and fine-tuners, whereas Lewisians and Plantingans are insufferable.
Had back and forth on f/b with a Plantingan who informed me my sensus was not broken but I had myself willingly closed it (the antenna?)
After an hour he finally he left me with Pascal.
The sheer arrogance is pretty astounding. Because, y’know, no atheists were ever religious or ever tried to understand/open themselves to religion.
It’s the sophisticated theolgian’s version of ‘nobody is an atheist, you just secretly hate God for not approving of you doing whatever you want.’
thats’ more or less what he actually said!
Whatever credibility Pantinga may have once had (and I suppose opinions may differ on whether he ever had any), he lost it when he threw in with the ID movement.
Bhagwan:
Osho, is that you? Thank you for visiting planet Earth :).
Platinga closed his sensus rationalis long ago and the its starved, rotting corpse now offends our sense of smell.
Nothing confounds the signals so thoroughly as the Faraday Cage that is the sensus divinatus
sub
A dear friend, now dead, had this read from his ‘spiritual autobiography’ during his funeral: ‘I feel the presence of
God within me.’ A former pastor and professor of religion, always probing and seeking the divine but wracked by doubt in his final decade, this was his last testament. He would affirm God despite his rational decision that this God did not exist. It reminded me of the female voice in Wallace Stevens’ ‘Sunday Morning:’ ‘But in contentment I still feel/ The need of some imperishable bliss.’
This is the ‘sensus divinitatis’ in modernist terms of the endlessly hedonic. My friend was no hedonist; yet like the woman in ‘Sunday Morning’ he felt throughout his life the ‘need’ for something beyond nature (and his decaying physical self). This is an emotional root almost impossible to eradicate–one that, in my view, keeps all the ‘sophisticated theologians’ hanging on.
He must know his arguments are stretched so thin they become transparent. If Plantinga ever became an unbeliever, it is not hard to imagine he’d keep it to himself and continue writing nonsense for his followers.
Sigh.
One of the main problems with this is that it equivocates between different interpretations of what it means to be “rational to believe.”
The usual way we assess whether or not it is reasonable to believe X is to consider X from an objective standpoint, pro and con. But it’s also legitimate to consider the reasonableness of believing X from within a particular situation. The first way is directed towards finding truth; the second way involves excusing error.
For example, if we look at a network of causation it isn’t just arguably ‘reasonable’ to believe in God, it’s also arguably ‘reasonable’ to believe that the sun is a chariot, the earth is flat, the Jews need to be exterminated, and homeopathy works. Given the proper background, experience, and culture the most amazing and astonishing beliefs become understandable. If you lack information and exposure to criticism, then you are from your narrow perspective within your ‘epistemic rights’ to believe something which is wrong.
Big deal. So?
Theists can’t refute atheist criticism by pointing out that if they ignore and dismiss our arguments then their beliefs are reasonable. The entire point of philosophy is to question presumptions and to argue over arguments. What kind of philosopher is Plantinga?
A “presuppositional” philosopher. A contradiction in terms — there is no such thing. He’s a theologian.
That particular Plantinga quote sounds more like post-modernist leveling than it does presuppositionalism (at least to me). Everyone’s individual experience makes their belief as equally valid as any other!
I’m guessing this is an argument of convenience for Plantinga, and that in other contexts he would argue vociferously that all that seeming is not a good reason to accept hinduism, islam, buddhism, atheism, etc…
I think presuppositionalists do indeed take the position that only postmodern relativism is rationally justified.
They then point out the problems with postmodernist relativism and wheel in God in order to make things right again. God is the only rational means of rescuing us from the chaos that reason alone leads us to.
Then I wasn’t imagining things!
I was engaged in a debate with a presuppositionalist. It kind of threw me that he was often making post-modernist type arguments that I wouldn’t have expected from the usual type of theist.
I don’t think he realised himself because a lot of his arguments seemed more an arsenal of ‘gotchas’. I googled a phrase that looked copypasta and it appeared among the arguments of one Sye Ten Bruggencate.
Yup. They try to force the atheist into recognizing what happens “without God” — a self-refuting tangle of contradictions, much like ultra-postmodernism. They use pomo arguments because they fail.
Presupps aren’t really arguments, technically. They’re not trying to persuade you because they know you already do believe in God. God comes before reason, before anything. So they smugly bully you with unceasing demands to ‘justify’ everything (including the process of justification itself) in order to demonstrate how unworkable your worldview is and get you to finally admit what you already know is true.
I call it the Neener Neener School of Debate. Sye Ten is a notorious proponent. It’s like arguing with a brick wall because he wants you frustrated into seeing what it’s like without God as foundation. Then you will presumably be “unblinded.”
I wonder if people ever convert just to get them to shut up.
To their credit, many apologists and theologians scorn presuppositionalism and its manifestation of TAG (Transcendental Argument for God.) It’s considered philosophically bankrupt and circular. Evidentialist arguments may be wrong, but they grant some respect for the other side.
Antirealism more generally amongst theists is pretty common, particularly those who admire science in some way but cannot “live with it”. Examples: Pierre Duhem (though only for physics) and Bas van Fraassen, as far as I can tell. I’ve seen it elsewhere amongst lesser known folks, as well.
On the other hand, Aquinas (to pick another important name) and (say) Alston, recognize that their faith requires realism generally and are caught in a scientific realism/religious realism bind.
I am reminded of Steve Martin’s assertion that You Can Be a Millionaire And Never Pay Taxes: “First, get a million dollars. Now … ”
Presupposition is worth precisely as much as a million dollars you don’t have, and the conclusions that ensue are worth even less.
I’m kinda reminded of a line of Corretta Scott King that “state’s rights are often state’s wrongs”.
Now substitute “epistemic” for “state”.
Alvin should read about the psychology of mass delusions, or as I am now tempted to call it a “epistemic epidemic”. 🙂
Plantinga’s last argument can be easily rephrased:
Apprised of the apparent relativity of her religious and philosophical beliefs to her circumstances of place, time and culture, Alex Shuffell carefully reconsiders them. It seems to her that she is never really in contact with God when she prays; she can’t see how there could be genuine right and wrong when you rely on God; on many occasions it has seemed to her that there can’t be such a person as God and that she is not in God’s presence. Of course she might be mistaken; but isn’t she entirely rational, entirely within her epistemic rights to stop believing?
Very nice.
I’m curious as to why Plantinga didn’t address the main issue of religious belief and identity. It’s not that because we inherit it, it’s almost certainly false, but that it’s arbitrariness is the problem. Not all cultural transmissions are born equal, and much of what we inherit in our culture now is the result of applied epistemologies and advanced thinking tools.
We inherit our understanding of science, for example, from our culture. Yet that’s no reason in and of itself to think it false. The science we inherit (usually) has to do with what the scientists in question say on the matter. They themselves educated in the experiments and theory that came before, and who have advanced their understanding through further scientific work. What we get when we inherit science is not arbitrary, but the accumulated wisdom of the discipline.
When it comes to religious belief, on the other hand, the main factors in what makes someone a particular religion are their parents and the sword. It matters which family and which culture you are born into but very little else does. Hence the contingency of religion is arbitrary to an unacceptable degree in a way that cannot be applied universally. So it’s not mere contingency that’s the problem, but what contingency entails for the particular belief system.
Because at heart he’s an apologist, not a truth-seeker? He’d rather be perceived as winning a debate for his side even if it takes a derail to do so, than concede that his opponents have a valid point.
It’s amazing to what lengths people will go to in order to miss the point. I shouldn’t be surprised any more, though I expect better of someone with the intellect that Plantinga has.
🎃
Bonus points for the Aaaallviin at the end!!!
I remember when my cousins baby died of Sudden Infant death at maybe 4mns.He said he didin’t know what he would do if he didn’t believe in God, so for whatever reason it helped him.
No one doubts that many, many, many people find solace in religious belief – and lots of current atheists were formerly among them. The first of many, many, many contradictions comes when believers thank god for finding them a mate, thank god for becoming pregnant, thank god for the child’s birth, and not only do not blame god for taking the child away – without warning, by SIDS, no less – but go for solace to the cruel trickster who paid repaid their loyalty with the death of an innocent.
I certainly hope your cousin had better luck and healthy happy children to love, if that’s what they wanted.
I remember browsing my way to a Christian movie review site – in which the reviews informed their Christian readers about the merits and evils of various movies. In this instance the movie in question was Extraordinary Measures the plot of which concerns Pompe’s disease – a fairly rare glycogen storage disorder. The hero of the story is a biochemist who discovers a treatment for the disorder and thereby saves two children (and many more in the future who normally suffer and die before reaching puberty).
The commenters, naturally, all thanked God for the cure. The biochemist, no doubt, was just one of God’s tools in answering the prayers of the afflicted and their parents. Why was God so apathetic up until the time the biochemist and his financial backer got into the act? Perish the thought! (Literally!)
Mr. Deity gives the best and most humorous rundown of this phenomenon in his bit about not answering prayers (or voicemails).
Assuming you meant this, I completely agree – it’s very funny. Thanks for inducing me to look for it!
He can’t lose!
Have I correctly read that corporations (and by extension their investors) go so far as to claim that the creative, innovative thoughts/concepts their employees (like the biochemist, for example) think while on the job are the corporation’s intellectual property?
(One hears of such employees receiving patents, but not one word about any remuneration they receive. Do they receive any and, if so, it surely is a pittance compared to what STEM-ignorant investors receive.)
A la “Minority Report,” and what with ongoing neuroscience research, one gathers that it will be a matter of decades until corporate tyrants can detect the thoughts of their private servants – Ah mean, employees.
One of the themes of the movie is the lack of interest of corporations in “rare” diseases – for the obvious reason.
I think that in almost all cases (special contracts with consultants notwithstanding), the proceeds of patents and research conducted while funded by a corporation most assuredly do go to the corporation. Corporate research scientists are generally salaried employees – not sure whether some companies might give a small percentage of inventions’ revenue to the employee, but I think it isn’t usual. Many scientists, like other employees, become shareholders as part of the company 401k plan – I work with an ex-Dow chemical scientist in that boat. Of course, the coporation doesn’t lay claim to the scientific awards for the invention – but the money? Of course.
Not sure about scientific awards, unless you mean “patents”. Which corporations tightly cling to. The humans who did the work get a plaque to hang on their wall. (I have one!)
Yes, I meant the plaque … and you often get a dinner!
Indeed. I got a dinner! It wasn’t a very good one, though. They didn’t bother to ask if I ate meat (I don’t) so mostly I age boiled cauliflower and carrots. 😉
“… she can’t see how there could be genuine right and wrong apart from God… ”
Note use of genuine rather than absolute. I think the difference is both substantial and relevant.
Also, there are atheist philosophers who believe in absolute morality. (Although I don’t agree with them)
I love Plating’s half-hearted concession that he “probably” would not be a Xtian f he were raised by Aborigines – as if anyone, ever had come to the Xtian faith (or any other organized belief system) but for the influence of adherents. It may be that he means “probably, unless someone converted me,” but that could be taken as acknowledging that religion is cultural and not magically in-born.
Fun Fact: Platinga wrote the blurb for one of ET McMullen’s two books (in all I found three blurbs, the other two written by Catholic scholars, one being a priest and retired lecturer in philosophy whom McMullen conveniently mis-identified as affiliated with SFSU and without the title “Father”). I digress, but it’s interesting to note just how central Platinga is in the validation and spread of psuedo-intellectual faith-based junk. And to digress further, it’s also interesting (and hard to believe) that a university found McMullen’s CV as pointing to anything other than “religious crackpot.”
Plantinga lacks a properly functioning sensus stercoris tauri.
He is acking-lay an ullshit-bay etector-bay.
etector-day. Ig-pay atin-lay ail-fay.
I’m sympathetic to most of your criticisms, but not to your conclusion that,
We atheists teach philosophy of religion because we want to explain to people where the arguments for theism go wrong, and we want to show people powerful arguments for atheism.
Maybe you mean that we shouldn’t teach people that religions are true, but that follows fairly trivially from the claim that we shouldn’t teach people false things.
I’d also take some issue with,
I take Kitcher to be claiming that theism (or at least adhering to any particular religion) is irrational, because of the diversity and the historical and cultural contingency of religious beliefs. But surely that’s a claim about reality, right? ‘You shouldn’t believe in religion’ is the claim that it’s really true that religion is unjustified. Why can’t Plantinga make the case that if, e.g., Kitcher had been raised in 10th-Century England, he would have found it obvious that Christianity is true?
Because that misses the point. The wide and geographical distribution of religious beliefs shows that the methodology used by religionists to arrive at their specific beliefs – revelation and divine authority – is highly imprecise. Its an invalid methodology.
The reason why that argument doesn’t work in reverse against atheists is that the methodology for knowledge-production they espouse (science) converges. Regardless of the culture of the scientist or geographical area it’s done in, an experiment yields the same result.
Had you visited different cultures (before modern communications flattened the world somewhat), you would’ve found every culture had radically different notions of ‘best music.’ But all their fires were plasmas, no matter who made it and what they believed. Religion is like the first, science is an investigation of the second.
Hi eric,
At this point, I imagine Plantinga pressing forward thus:
‘Yes, fire is fire is fire. But beliefs about what fire is will still vary wildly across time and the globe. Similarly, either atheism or theism is true; we know this. But beliefs about those vary wildly across time and the globe, and seem deeply influenced by one’s parents and environment.
‘Perhaps science creates convergence. But the belief about whether to trust science, or the belief about what counts as “science,” also varies wildly, even within nation-states, and also seems to depend a lot on one’s culture and upbringing.’
Such a meta-argument just ignores the point made about the flaws in the revelatory methodology. Sure, people folliwng different methodologies for investigating fire or God will arrive at different conclusions. The point he fails to refute is that religious people following the same methodology have arrived at different results that are correlated with culture and location. In contrast, scientists that have followed the same methodology have arrived at similar conclusions regardless of culture and location. Revelation is irreproducible on a large scale. So we should not trust the results of it. Pointing out that revelation does not give the same results as science or some other method is irrelevant. Its a dodge.
I would also point out that he would probably speak your quote into a microphone. Or type it onto a web-based document. Because he trusts that those things will work for Catholics and in the Vatican exactly the same way they work for Indians in Bangladesh. It’s easy give the pomo relativist line. But its very hard to live that claim in practice…and the Pope doesn’t.
Jerry,
I come to Plantinga mostly second-hand through you and Phillipse, though I’ve read a few interviews with him. I’m wary of commenting on any scholar whose books I haven’t read, but everything I hear about him (especially his opinions on evolution) make me wonder how he could ever have even passed peer review, let alone rose to the top of his field. Since you’ve read so much for the albatross, could you say that there’s more intellectual rigor to his thinking than I’m seeing, or is it just childish sophistry all the way down?
Aw, no need to be wary, Jason! Sophisticated Theologians™ comment on science books they haven’t read all the time! Their most widely-disseminated comments tend to be about ideas that aren’t even in the books on which they are commenting.
Having read a lot “about” Plantingaisms, and having attempted to read (but lacked the stomach to finish) his book on “warrant,” my answer to your question would be that technical rigor and skilled use of language don’t overcome “childish sophistry” if the author proceeds from a failed premise*. I’m not broadly academic enough to fairly judge “rigor” in a philosophical treatise, but it seems pretty clear Plantinga trades in strawmen and conveniently avoids confronting the strongest arguments against his positions – I take these as signs of a lack of rigor as any reasonable person might construe the word.
* – Said premise being, very loosely, as I understand it: God exists full stop; there is no need for argument or proof so shut up already. That God is the Xtian God, never mind why we know this, and belief in the tenets of the Xtian God are “warranted,” which is to say it doesn’t matter at all if the things one believes in are “true.”
Plantinga has made enormously important contributions in secular metaphysics and epistemology, especially on the nature of modality and in metaepistemology, which is the study of the meaning of words such as ‘justified’ and ‘knowledge.’ He’s also done work in free will, identity, mind, and the philosophy of language.
Now, as for the philosophy of religion, he’s certainly among the top three-or-so of living Christian philosophers who defend Christianity vigorously. But there are relatively few of these. So in this case, it’s easier to rise to the top of the subfield.
However, that said, while I disagree with most of his positions, I think his skill is actually quite a bit greater than most commentators here believe. This would be a big, complicated topic, but I guarantee that the typical objections you see here wouldn’t be offered by atheist philosophers. That’s not too surprising, since we don’t demand that non-experts act like experts. But I would caution people in general that if the experts (even atheists) take someone very seriously, it’s likely that that person is pretty good at it.
I think Jerry (and others) have read Plantinga’s books and don’t think much of them. So I would be careful in offering the courtier’s reply.
Another possibility you might want to consider is that Plantinga made many positive contributions to (other) areas of philosophy, but Christian apologetics is to him what Vitamin C research was to Linus Pauling.
Exactly – that’s why elsewhere I’ve said he’s not a charlatan like WLC, just someone with a rather large “blind spot”.
The problem is that other philosophers of religion will review his work, and a lot of them will be in the same boat. Someone like Patrick Grim would be good, who is a non-believing philosopher of religion, but even he can be a bit too friendly to P.’s sloppiness. Besides, this is an unreviewed review, IIRC, so …
Well done! The rising chorus of people chanting for a return to the Dark Ages surely has a basso profundo in Plantinga.
One salient and salutary feature of the original Enlightenment was, of course, the assertion that beliefs needed to be based on evidence other than the fervor of one’s belief. This is not only a lousy philosophic argument its spread poses a threat to the contemporary manifestation of an Enlightenment based civilization. It is time for us to arise and defend the foundational principles of our modern world.
Isn’t the claim, “But what follows from that? Surely not that the beliefs he does hold are almost certainly false”, just begging the question? He also wrongly equivocates his religious beliefs to Kitcher’s rejection of religious beliefs.
The philosophers argument is simply a bad analogy.
As for sensus divinitatis, as Bertrand Russel said, “A hallucination is a fact, not an error; what is erroneous is a judgment based upon it.” If she continues to believe she is being, as per Kierkegaard, “non-rational”.
Dan Dennett draws our attention to the slight of hand here. He cautions us to be alert for sentences starting with the word, “Surely…”, or
“It goes without saying…”, or
“You can’t deny…”
Wait a minute! why can’t I deny your statement. It is thrown out as an obvious premise, but it is, in fact, a disguised conclusion.
Ah yes…surely.
“. . .often the word “surely” is as good as a blinking light locating a weak point in the argument. . .Why? Because it marks the very edge of what the author is actually sure about and hopes readers will also be sure about .”
Dennett, Daniel C. (2013-05-06). Intuition Pumps And Other Tools for Thinking (p. 54). W. W. Norton & Company. Kindle Edition.
“Surely” reminds me of “Don’t you think . . . .?”
The speaker tries to heavily lay on the expectation and pressure that another ought to agree with him, it being so “obvious.”
Just makes me predisposed to say, “Surely not,” and “No,” respectively.
Again, something is not so simply and solely because someone SAID so.
Another phrase in this category is “properly understood”.
Thanks for bringing this book to our attention, and giving us a short critique of its central point.
Intriguing quote from Voltaire, though I wonder how Voltaire would respond since he, too, though not religious was a theist of the philosophical sort.
Ah, Plantinga.
His free will defense for the logical problem of evil STILL gives me headaches. I mean, seriously. (argh!)
Many Christian philosophers now seem to have thrown the towel in over the problem of evil – refer the video of his debate with Richard Gale “The Existence of Evil and the Problem of God” (the video is online), Plantinga, asserts that all will be well in the end, as he believes it is likely all (including non-Christians) will be saved.
So basically he is now a Christian universalist – which is still a heterodox position to take among Christians at large, but is apparently a quite a common position among Christian philosophers who understand that this is the only possible way out of the Problem of Evil.
Christian universalist? Then what becomes of sin, judgement, hell and all the rest? Sounds like he’s whack-a-mole.
Indeed. Why should anyone bother with religion in that case?
That doesn’t even begin to get you clear of the Problem of Evil. Since when does throwing a party for somebody after you’ve tortured them make everything right?
The only solution to the Problem of Evil is the same one that Epicurus identified centuries before the invention of Christianity. Put simply, there are no powerful entities with the best interests of humanity at heart, period, full stop, end of discussion.
And, in modernity, even a young child with a cellphone demonstrates infinitely more moral integrity, compassion, and power than any god ever has simply by calling 9-1-1 in case of emergency.
What’s Jesus’s excuse for not calling 9-1-1 the last time he was listening to the desperate prayers of some poor kid being raped by one of his official agents? Bad cellphone coverage? Didn’t realize what the priest was actually doing? Too busy jerking off to the kids showering at the same time?
b&
The plural of “wish” is not “facts”.
More “believers” do not equal “truth”.
Plantinga goes after atheists and secularists. Has he ever gone after, debated with, apologists of other religions and other Christian denominations? How would he dispute with the “just so” statements of some mullah or imam?
Plantinga mentions that Kitcher is “impressed” with this and “impressed” with that (assuming that Kitcher is “impressed” at all).
It obviously takes (much) less to impress Plantinga. Kitcher doesn’t go around saying – is not “impressed” by hearing someone say – “This is true because someone SAID so.”
Isn’t the key point about the “geographical argument” one of HOW we think rather than anything else? That is, when we base our beliefs on religious thinking and faith, people born in the US are very likely to be Christian. People in India are very likely to be Hindus. People in Saudi Arabia are almost certainly Muslim. This shows that this WAY of thinking can’t lead us to the truth, since these are contradictory.
The key point is that this does not occur with an empirical and scientific approach to thinking with falsifiability being seen as key. The scientific way of thinking, whenever it is undertaken, comes up with the same answers regardless of where it is done. Scientists in the US, India, Saudi Arabia, China, etc., all come up with the same science.
It seems this is an obvious point, but it is expressed very unclearly by many people leading to Plantiga’s (among others) criticism (still bad criticism, mind you).
You echo Eric’s reply to Tom #19
Ah. Missed it. I think he said it better than I anyway.
And his comment in #3 was similar. I should read more comments before posting.
#5, not #3
For about 15 minutes during a dinner we were attending, a fellow who was some sort of Episcopalian muckety-muck ranted at me (a confessed non-believer) about something called “a leap of faith.” I was baffled by this; what “leap of faith?” So I thought about it for a few days and then it hit me what this “leap of faith” really was–it was going from wanting and wishing something were true so badly that you abandon all reason and thought and…leap!…you now just say it is true and that makes it true. A leap from reality to non-reality, that needs no thinking at all.
I always thought it referred to the situation where a believer tries to rationalise his faith, discovers there is
no basis for belief, but then makes a leap back into belief for no reason at all except that he feels more comfortable believing.
(My father wa one of these people, a fact he only ever confided to me as far as I can tell. He wanted to de-de-convert me for my own sake.)
IIRC, Kirkegaard felt the “leap of faith” was important to religious belief; that the belief had greater value *because* the believer had no rational reason to belive.
/@
Kierkegaard is in my view the most consistent Christian in modern times: he realizes the religion is absurd, and says so. Then he believes anyway – no rationalism here!
As I mentioned in @6, though, haranguing atheists about trying a ‘leap of faith’ is quite arrogant. It assumes they’ve never seriously considered religion before. In a country where 75% of the population is Christian, there’s probably a greater-than-even chance that any given atheist you meet *was* Christian and *already tried* that leap of faith.
Reminds me of my trip to Africa. Where I was, there were lots of villages of huts etc. And seasonal missionaries who came to convert the natives. The problem was, the natives had been converted hundreds of years ago and what they *really* wanted the mission trips to bring were teachers and engineers, not priests. Why did this mismatch happen? Because, not to put too fine a point on it, American evangelicals see a brown person living in a hut and immediately think that person can’t possibly have read the bible.
Back when I was religious (a Hindu), I used to cheer for the religious side of arguments like this until I realized that they weren’t arguing my case– the whole believing in multiple gods with non-absolute power thing. That’s when I started to jump ship from the religious camp in these “philosophical” debates.
Still, like Dawkins writes, I feel like there’s stuff I could do if I at least pretend to be Hindu. “In God We Trust?” Defenders claim that “God” is generic. Which god though? Vishnu or Shiva? Can they amend it to “In the Gods We Trust” to accommodate all religions?
Yes, its very noticeable that all this theology stuff always seem to assume monotheism.
To what extent do non-monotheist religions have an equivalent?
I feel like it’s really hard to get into the mind of a non-monotheistic religion simply because of the success of a single tradition of monotheism.
I usually compare Hindu theism to Greco-Roman religion. There wasn’t really a debate on the existence of gods. If someone saw a new a god, they’d assume his or her existence and worship. As much as worshiping a strange god would have made me uncomfortable, the practice continued until the late 19th century. There were certainly skeptics, but just like in Rome, for every Cotta you had a thousands of believers.
That’s also how Hinduism finally won out against Buddhism. When Buddhism finally got royal patronage, the not-as-well-off sections of the Brahmin priests created new forms of worship and tried to sell them to worshippers of different gods. Sometimes as a compromise, tribal priests got taken into their order. Buddhism tried to compete, and that’s partly why East Asian Buddhisms have gods.
Interestingly though, in Hindu-Buddhist debates, some Hindu theologians posited a god-like being as the prime mover and gave this quality to a particular god. But it was a minority tradition.
The TL;DR is that at this point, Hindus take the “if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em” approach and say that all their gods are really one. Western culture has created the impression that as silly as believing in many gods who live in a celestial heaven in oceans of milk etc. is, if you take all that away and make your deity attribute-less, it’s “sophisticated.” So that’s what modern Hindus do.
I want to add that this is the source of the famed “Hindu tolerance.”
To Christians in the colonial period, Hindu assertions that “all religions were true” made no sense, because obviously they believe in different things.
For the Hindus though, they were just accepting a new god. Jesus may not have had Hindu shrines, but why wouldn’t there be another god?
Thanks for all the explanation, Arvind. Most interesting history.
Thanks for your kind words, Diane, I’m glad I could be of help.
Can they amend it to “In the Gods We Trust” to accommodate all religions?
While it would go nowhere, it is kind of fun to think of the bruhaha such a bill would create.
Like Sam Harris said, we’d react much more strongly if we replaced God with “Zeus.”
The West actually did. India names its nuclear missiles after Sanskrit words for the elements. Some of the elements also share names with gods though, so people freaked out when they heard that a missile was called “Agni” (either fire or the god of fire). With all the times Bush talked about God, the Gog and Magog incident, etc. his speeches deserved to elicit at least the same amount of alarm.
Many people felt that diseases came from “spirits”. That turned out to be evidence-less, even wrong.