Why Evolution is True is a blog written by Jerry Coyne, centered on evolution and biology but also dealing with diverse topics like politics, culture, and cats.
An anonymous correspondent, fearing for his/her standing in the religious community that is Muncie, Indiana (home of Ball State University) sent me an announcement of events that the BSU planetarium (new home of IDer Guillermo Gonzalez) will be putting on this academic year. Have a gander.
Does one of these events not look like the others?
Hint: it’s this one:
Now I don’t know if Gonzalez had anything to do with this, and I doubt that it’s unconstitutional. After all, it’s merely an inquiry, and the answer of whether there’s a credible natural explanation for the Star of Bethlehem could well be “no.” (Somehow, however, I doubt that this will be the case!) In principle there’s nothing wrong with seeing whether Biblical claims are scientifically credible: after all, that’s how science disproved instantaneous creation, the exodus story, and the story of Adam and Eve. But as far as I know (and I may be wrong), none of the astronomical explanations for the appearance of the SOB have held water.
What’s next: will Ball State’s geology department give a presentation asking if there could be natural explanations for Noah’s Flood? Will the ichthyologists give a presentation about whether it’s possible for a man to be swallowed and then regurgitated by a giant fish?
Really, this is a waste of a good chance to educate people about astronomy.
Tania Lombrozo, a Templeton-funded associate professor of psychology at the University of California, Berkeley, has been writing on the cosmos & culture science website for National Public Radio. Yesterday I discussed what I saw as her gratuitous call for “respectful dialogue” between believers and nonbelievers, which seemed to me an effort to buttress religion’s undeserved privilege in public discourse. Soon thereafter—about a week ago—Lombrozo followed up with another post, “Can faith ever be rational?” Her answer, of course, is “yes.”
To those of us who think of “rational” as “something based on reason and logic,” and “faith” (I use Walter Kaufmann’s definition) as “intense, usually confident, belief that is not based on evidence sufficient to command assent from every reasonable person,” this seems strange. How can it be rational to have a confident belief in something without supporting evidence?
Well, it all depends on a semantic trick: redefining “faith” and “rationality” in a way that makes them compatible. Sounds like Steve Gould’s NOMA gambit, doesn’t it?
Lombrozo reached her faith-friendly conclusion after reading some philosophy. As she notes:
To help me think about these weighty matters, I decided to read two recent papers (one already published, with a more accessible version forthcoming) by Berkeley philosophy professor Lara Buchak.
I’ve read both (free at Lombrozo’s links), but will take Buchak’s quotes from the one cited at the bottom of this post. Here’s Buchak’s definition of “faith”
By ‘faith statements’ I simply mean statements involving the term ‘faith’. The following are representative
I have faith in your abilities. He has faith that his spouse won’t cheat on him. I have faith in you. He has faith that you won’t reveal his secret.
She acted on faith. She has faith that her car will start. It was an act of faith. I have faith that God exists.
I have faith in God’s goodness. I have faith in God.
Note that this conflates the notion of faith as “evidence-based confidence” with the “belief in the absence of much evidence” definition of Kaufmann. Buchak then says that “faith” involves taking an action initially motivated by some empirically-supported belief—but not a belief held with 100% certainty. Faith means taking such an action without looking for further evidence that could provide more certainty.
Then Buchak distinguishes between two types of rationality: “epistemic” rationality, which involves “[proportioning] one’s beliefs to one’s evidence.” and “practical” rationality, which involves “selecting the means to achieve one’s ends.” (I’m simplifying things a bit here, but not in a way that seems to distort her argument.)
Given that, then of course it can be practically rational to have faith. If you have a certain end beyond just a stronger knowledge of the truth (say, more money, a better relationship, etc.), then you can act based on what you know—provided, of course, that you are initially acting based on a fairly strong degree of evidence. It would be rational, then, to act without getting more evidence if “available evidence is such that no potential piece of evidence [yet unfound] would tell conclusively enough against it.” (I’m still quoting Buchak here.)
Buchak uses an example of a marriage in which one partner is contemplating adultery. He would do so if he found out his spouse was cheating, but there is no evidence to suggest that; the evidence is that she is faithful. It would be rational, then, to not continue to look for evidence for the wife’s adultery, because by so doing you could just make the relationship worse—something that isn’t in your interest. In other words, in this situation, says Buchak, it’s rational to have faith in your wife’s fidelity. There are costs of further investigation, including the time lost when you could have achieved your end.
So faith can be rational. But this isn’t something new, for of course scientists act the same way so long as you use “faith” in the scientific sense of “confidence based on evidence.” We never have 100% certainty, but when we take actions based on evidence, like launching a Mars rover, we have enough confidence in our results that we consider it rational to launch the rocket. We could keep testing the systems over and over again, but one reaches a point of diminishing returns.
Too, we could always look for more evidence for the hexagonal nature of benzene, as we’re not 100% certain it has that shape; but one reaches a point where it’s “rational” to act as if we know the shape with sufficient confidence to achieve our chemical ends. Further investigation will never give us 100% certainty in the scientific sense.
So if you define “faith” as “confidence based on evidence”, which is its vernacular meaning in science, then yes, it can be rational for even scientists to have faith.
But that’s not what Lombrozo’s piece is about, of course. In the end it’s about whether it can be rational to have faith in God. One would think that this wouldn’t wash, because to believe in God in the first place you require fairly strong evidence (that’s part of Buchak’s definition of “faith”), and there simply isn’t that kind of evidence. Buchak says otherwise:
[William] James argued that when a decision about what to believe is momentous—in that it involves a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, for example—then it must be made by the will, and that postponing the decision is a decision in itself. He used this observation to argue that it is rationally permissible to choose to believe in God even when one does not have conclusive evidence for God’s existence. I don’t think that it is rationally permissible to believe that God exists when one does not have conclusive evidence, if this means setting one’s credences differently from what one has evidence for (though I’m not saying that this is what James is suggesting). However, I do think that it is sometimes rationally permissible (and indeed, sometimes rationally required!) to have faith in God—as evidenced by doing some particular religious act without looking for further evidence—in circumstances in which postponing the decision to act is costly, provided one has the appropriate credences, and provided these are the correct credences to have given one’s evidence.
This is where Buchak’s argument goes wonky. How can one have faith in God without believing in God? That implies that you take an action normally predicated on fairly strong evidence—”appropriate credences” is the euphemism here—that God exists, without having such evidence. That contravene’s Buchak’s notion of faith, which initially requires pretty strong evidence. Second, postponing belief in God is not costly unless you think you’re going to die and are desperately making a Pascal’s Wager. Maybe I’m missing something in Buchak’s argument, but it doesn’t sound to me, based on her own definition of faith, that it is “sometimes permissible (and rationally required!)” to have faith in God. Indeed, the argument above contradicts Buchak’s own claim at the end of her paper:
We have seen that whether faith that X, expressed by A, is rational depends on two important factors: (1) whether one has a high enough (rational) credence in X, and (2) the character of the available evidence. Specifically, faith in X is rational only if the available evidence is such that no potential piece of evidence would tell conclusively enough against X. . . So, in a rough-and-ready way, we might say that faith that X (expressed by some particular act A) is practically rational to the extent that the individual’s degree of belief in X is already based on a large body of evidence.
. . . Individuals who lack faith because they insist on gathering all of the available evidence before making a decision stand to miss out on opportunities that could greatly benefit them.
It would be rationally permissible to believe in God, then, only if you have enough evidence for a deity that no further evidence (rationally considered) would change your actions predicated on that belief. And that’s not the way religion works. One doesn’t require strong empirical evidence to believe, nor does one contemplate what evidence would erase your faith.
I find myself criticizing Buchak more than Lombrozo here, but Lombrozo’s piece is largely a regurgitation in popular language of what Buchak says, and Lombrozo’s piece will certainly have far wider circulation than Buchak’s two articles that were published in anthologies of religious philosophy.
But Lombrozo certainly assents to Buchak’s conclusions. She first gives a nod to atheists (without apparently realizing that their arguments are absolutely decisive in this case) and then reproduces some correspondence she got from Buchak (in italics) that seems to give religious people permission to claim that their faith is rational:
Of course, it doesn’t follow from these arguments that religious faith – in general – is rational. Skeptics could argue that the condition of having strong evidence to begin with simply won’t obtain when it comes to having faith in God, and New Atheists might argue that actions based on faith can themselves be costly to oneself and to others, challenging the idea that they’ll ever yield greater expected utility.
Nonetheless, Buchak’s paper suggests that under some conditions, faith can be rational, and sets the stage for a more sophisticated conversation about faith for theists and atheists alike. In our own conversation, Buchak shared the following reflections:
“The way that religious faith is sometimes talked about in the larger cultural conversation can be harmful to everyone who is trying to find out the truth in religious matters and how they should live their lives. There’s a naïve idea that faith requires believing against the evidence, or in the absence of evidence. When this idea is adopted by atheists, it can allow them to dismiss all religious faith as irrational by definition, without considering what the evidence is for particular religious claims. When this idea is adopted by religious people, it can allow them to think that believing against the evidence is a virtue, which is harmful to the pursuit of truth – it can also be psychologically harmful to try to believe something you think you don’t have evidence for.”
Sounds like an excellent basis for establishing more charitable ground!
Oy vey! This is a “more sophisticated conversation”? At the outset Lombrozo notes that there’s a case to be made that there isn’t strong evidence for God, but then quotes Buchak as saying that maybe there is some good evidence for particular religious claims (“everyone . . trying to find out the truth in religious matters”). But what makes either Buchak or Lombrozo think that there is such truth to be found? Buchak’s assertion that atheists don’t consider “what the evidence is for particular religious claims” is flatly wrong. We all know that the claims of different faiths are contradictory, so at most only one can be right. But none of them have credible truth claims. If Buchak and Lombrozo imply that if it’s rational to believe in Jesus, then it must be irrational to believe in Allah.
Atheists have good reasons for not believing in God, and those come down to the lack of evidence. This means that can never be rational to have religious faith, by either Lombrozo or Buchak’s lights. There’s simply not the required preliminary evidence that’s an integral part of “rational faith”. Nor need we atheists admit that faith can be rational, no matter which definition of “faith” you use.
Yet look at Lombrozo’s last sentence. It claims that Buchak’s argument provides “an excellent basis for establishing more charitable ground,” i.e., creating a respectful and fruitful dialogue between faith and religion. That’s simply not the case. Although Lombrozo is a cultural Jewish atheist, she seems unaware of why most people are atheists. If she understood that, she’d know that Buchak’s paper doesn’t establish any common ground.
As I noted yesterday, the claims of belief and atheism are irreconcilable, and a dialogue between them will accomplish nothing. That doesn’t mean we need to vilify believers themselves—as opposed to their beliefs. But it does mean that we needn’t consider faith as either credible or rational.
___________________
Buchak, L 2013. Can it be rational to have faith? In Louis P. Pojman & Michael Rea (eds.), Philosophy of Religion: An Anthology, 7th edition (forthcoming)
While I was asleep, my Tw**ps were chatting about robber flies. So I woke up to these great pictures. Robber flies – technically the family Asilidae – are strong and agile predators that as adults feed on other insects, sometimes much larger than themselves, catching them in the air. The result of such a chase is shown in this fantastic photo by Sarah J. Semmler (@SarahSyrphid), showing a robber fly that had just grabbed a meadowhawk dragonfly:
What a fantastic photo! Sarah also tw**ted this photo of a robber fly by Seth Patterson from Bugguide, pointing out the well-developed ‘claws’ on the end of the tarsi, and the spines all over the legs which would make it easier to grab prey in the air.
They will eat anything, including stuff much smaller than themselves, as seen in this photo by Muhammad Mahdi Karim of a Pegesimallus fly nomming what looks like a small fly:
And people think that mammals are beautiful predators!
According to Wikipedia (sorry) there are over 7,000 species of Asilidae. You can find tons of stunning photos on the internet.
Although the life-style of adult robber flies is well known, the ecology of the larvae – which interest me – is much less well understood. Larvae of some species appear to be classic detritus-feeding maggots, while others are reported to eat insects but mainly eggs and other larvae (i.e. they bumble across them, perhaps guided by smell and taste, rather than being cunning predators).
Well, since the tussle about epigenetics involves Brits, they’re really too polite to engage in a “smackdown.” Let’s just call it a “kerfuffle.” Nevertheless, two scientists have an enlightening 25-minute discussion about epigenetics at the Guardian‘s weekly science podcast (click the link and listen from 24:30 to 49:10). If you’re science friendly and have an interest in this ‘controversy,’ by all means listen in. It’s a good debate about whether “Lamarckian” inheritance threatens to overturn the modern theory of evolution.
Readers know how I feel about the epigenetics “controversy.” “Epigenetics” was once a term used simply to mean “development,” that is, how the genes expressed themselves in a way that could construct an organism. More recently, the term has taken on the meaning of “environmental modifications of DNA,” usually involving methylation of DNA bases. And that is important in development, too, for such methylation is critical in determining how genes work, as well as in how genes are differentially expressed when they come from the mother versus the father.
But epigenetics has now been suggested to show that neo-Darwinism is wrong: that environmental modifications of the DNA—I’m not referring to methylation that is actually itself coded in the DNA—can be passed on for many generations, forming a type of “Lamarckian” inheritance that has long been thought impossible. I’ve discussed this claim in detail and have tried to show that environmentally-induced modifications of DNA are inevitably eroded away within one or a few generations, and therefore cannot form a stable basis for evolutionary adaptation. Further, we have no evidence of any adaptations that are based on modifications of the DNA originally produced by the environment.
In the Guardian show, the “Coyne-ian” position is taken by Dr. George Davey Smith, a clinical epidemiologist at the University of Bristol. The “epigenetics-will-revise-our-view-of-evolution” side is taken by Dr. Tim Spector, a genetic epidemiologist at King’s College. Smith makes many of the points that I’ve tried to make over the past few years, and I hope it’s not too self-aggrandizing to say that I think he gets the best of Spector, who can defend the position only that epigenetic modification is important within one generation (e.g., cancer) or at most between just two generations.
But listen for yourself. These guys are more up on the literature than I am, and I was glad to see that, given Smith’s unrebutted arguments, neo-Darwinism is still not in serious danger. (I have to say, though, that I’d like to think that if we found stable and environmentally induced inheritance that could cause adaptive changes in the genome, I’d be the first to admit it.)
Tania Lombrozo is an associate professor of psychology at the University of California, Berkeley who has begun writing for “cosmos & culture“, the National Public Radio’s (NPR’s) website for “commentary of science and society”. And she is gunning for a spot on Professor Ceiling Cat’s List of “Most Annoying Accommodationists,” as she notes in her piece.
I must confess that I’m puzzled and annoyed by NPR’s constant pandering towards faith. Their religion correspondent, who regularly osculates the rump of faith, is Barbara Bradley Hagerty, author of Fingerprints of God: What Science is Learning about the Brain and Spiritual Experience, and a self-described “serious mainstream Christian.” NPR also has the odious Krista Tippett, always wheedling her guests, scientists or otherwise, to confess their “spiritual” leanings. And now we have Tania Lombrozo, who’s writing a series of pieces for NPR’s cosmos & culture site that can be construed as nothing else but a defense of religion. To my mind, a radio network with a reputation for liberal and incisive reporting simply has no business stroking the faithful over and over again as if they were Persian cats.
I don’t listen much to NPR, but if they have an atheist correspondent, or discuss disbelief with the same frequency as belief, I don’t know about it. In the next two days I want to highlight two of Lombrozo’s pieces, taking up the first, “Science vs. religion: a heated debate fueled by disrespect,” this morning. The piece I’ll discuss tomorrow, about why faith can be rational, is more problematic.
The “heated debate” piece is basically a call for comity between believers and atheists, but is written in such a way that it manages to not just ask for civil discourse, but to give credibility to faith. In that sense it’s very clever.
Lombrozo’s essay was motivated in part by the strong reaction against journalist Virginia Heffernan’s declaration that she was a creationist. (One reaction that Lombrozo implies was out of line is that Heffernan’s piece was “intellectually vapid.” This distressed her, although I can’t imagine why. It’s easy to understand why there would be a strong backlash against a popular technology writer who suddenly declares belief in the literalism of a fairy tale because the Bible is a better story than evolution.
To be fair, Lombrozo also notes America’s widespread disapprobation of atheism. But then, Gould-like, she calls for the concordat:
Issues about science and religion have become so politicized and polarizing that it’s hard to find public forums in which people with different commitments can meaningfully engage in discussion and debate. You know, respectful conversations, ones in which we interpret each other charitably and don’t simply assume that those who disagree with us are foolish, immoral or just plain stupid.
I’m not arguing for a middle ground in which we all compromise. The best position isn’t necessarily the one in the middle, or the one that wins by majority vote. But I do think we need a “charitable ground,” if you will — some shared territory in which we recognize that other people’s religious and scientific commitments can be as deeply felt and deeply reasoned as our own, and that there’s value in understanding why others believe what they do.
I crossed out the problematic part.
I have no quarrel with any of this except for two things: the possibility that there can be a meaningful dialogue between science and religion, and the idea that religious commitments can be “as deeply reasoned” as scientific ones.
Science has only two things to contribute to religion: an analysis of the evolutionary, cultural, and psychological basis for believing things that aren’t true, and a scientific disproof of some of faith’s claims (e.g., Adam and Eve, the Great Flood). Religion has nothing to contribute to science, and science is best off staying as far away from faith as possible. The “constructive dialogue” between science and faith is, in reality, a destructive monlogue, with science making all the good points, tearing down religion in the process.
Second, what on earth does Lombrozo mean adherence to religion being “deeply reasoned”? That may be true in the sense of someone saying, “Well, I’d be a mess without Jesus, so I’d better accept him as savior,” but that’s not “reason” in the scientific sense.
I suppose I’d better mention Lombrozo’s shout-out to this site:
On the other side, a comment at Jerry Coyne’s blog, Why Evolution Is True, suggested that — in light of the article — I should be added to Coyne’s list of “Most Annoying Accommodationists (Female Category).” The main target of Coyne’s original post was Tanya Luhrmann, an anthropologist who has studied and written about supernatural beliefs. Highlighting a major offense, Coyne wrote of Luhrmann:
“What’s most annoying is that she keeps her own beliefs under wraps, trying to cater to believers of all stripes while not alienating any of them.”
Is it so terrible to try to be accessible to a broad audience with diverse beliefs, and to prefer not to alienate people? Is it terribly naïve of me to think that we can have real discussion about difficult issues without being dismissive of alternative positions or those who hold them?
My view was that Luhrmann, who has been notoriously cagey about her own beliefs while constantly telling us why religion is good, has an obligation to share her own beliefs because she participated in some of the activities of the churches on which she reported. Was that merely an anthropological experience, or did she share some of these beliefs? While telling us that prayer is good, she refuses to tell us whether she thinks belief in God is true. That seems to me not the objective stance of an anthropologist, but a form of intellectual cowardice. And really, what is the downside here? Lombrozo gives away the game by noting that if Luhrmann said what she really believed, she would “alienate people.” Well, you don’t have to do that when it’s not appropriate (I don’t mention atheism in WEIT), but such a confession is certainly relevant to Luhrmann’s many writings and op-eds on religion. Why should anybody refuse to confess what they believe if it’s relevant? I have no compunction in telling people, when I talk about religion and science, that I’m an atheist. I don’t care if that makes them alienated, for I accomplish nothing by hiding what I think.
Anyway, Lombrozo then gives a list of four things she isn’t saying when she calls for an amiable discussion (these points are indented):
All perspectives are equally valid. They certainly are not. We may not have everything figured out yet, but some perspectives are better supported by evidence and arguments than others.
Indeed, and here science has a clear advantages, for we have the evidence. So why not just say that? I’ve always argued that, à la Peter Boghossian, while people deserve respect, ideas don’t. There is nothing wrong with strongly attacking ideas, or even making fun of them when they’re ludicrous (e.g., pot and sodomy as causes of the Colorado floods). Too, when a group of people becomes literally deranged by faith, as with those Muslims who went on murderous rampages when the Danish anti-Mohammed cartoons were published, there’s nothing wrong with pointing out that those people have been driven mad by religion, and are dangerous.
It’s perfectly OK for people to believe whatever they want. Most beliefs are fine. Some lead people to do unfortunate things, whether it’s support female genital mutilation or dismiss climate change. Part of me thinks there’s nothing wrong with any beliefs, only with particular actions. The problem is that actions and beliefs often go hand in hand.
And who among us atheists has said otherwise? The problem with religion is that, because it combines the idea of absolute truth with that of a God-approved morality (a toxic combination), it is almost certain to lead to actions.
Well, on second thought, there is something wrong with unsubstantiated belief even if it doesn’t lead to action. That’s because it softens the mind and makes it possible to have other unsubstantiated beliefs. In other words, it enables faith. This is why moderate religionists give cover to their more extreme brethren: they know that, at bottom, they all believe in stuff that can’t be proven, and so see themselves in the same boat. Now I suppose you could call that “cover” a form of action, but it involves words rather than deeds.
You shouldn’t try to change someone’s mind when it comes to scientific or religious beliefs. When you’re trying to enjoy a nice family meal with your conservative Christian in-laws and your card-carrying Skeptics Society cousins, maybe you shouldn’t. It’s up to you. But as far as I’m concerned, there are some contexts in which it is appropriate to aim for persuasion, provided you do so respectfully and not dogmatically.
No disagreement here, save for a failure of Lombrozo to explain what she means by “respectfully and not dogmatically.” Remember that many religious people consider any criticism of their faith as disrespectful. I’ve had very liberal religious friends get extremely touchy when I ask the mildest questions about their faith. And as for dogmatism, is it dogmatic to ask people, “Where’s your evidence?” How can one be dogmatic about a failure to provide convincing evidence?
We shouldn’t engage in serious debate about personal or sensitive issues. Of course we should. But serious, constructive debate is not only consistent with a charitable and respectful attitude toward your conversant, it may require it.
Again, these are words that sound good, and certainly one shouldn’t engage in ad hominems, but I find it hard to be “charitable” towards those who see homosexuality as a sin or want to kill apostates or those who give the wrong name to teddy bears. As for “constructive” debate, Lombrozo ain’t gonna get it. Atheism and religion are implacably opposed, and there simply isn’t any middle ground where their ideas are concerned.
Finally, Lombrozo tells us what she wants:
We should engage in respectful debate and discussion. We should assume, as a default, that others hold their religious and scientific beliefs deeply, genuinely and reflectively. People rarely believe what they do because they are stupid, heartless, immoral, elitist or brainwashed. Let’s find some charitable ground.
Now this again sounds good, but apply this prescription to other beliefs, say in homeopathy, spiritual healing, UFO abduction, or, indeed, racism—for racists often have deep beliefs in the inferiority of other races, and can even, like theologians, quote bogus “evidence” for their beliefs. And racists aren’t always stupid or heartless. Why must we accord special respect to beliefs that are, in the end, as silly as those of, say, Catholicism or Islam?
I agree with Lombrozo that religious people don’t often believe because they’re immoral or heartless or elitist. But, yes, many of them have been brainwashed, having absorbed religion when they’re young and impressionable. Has Lombrozo heard about madrasas or Catholic schools? That is brainwashing, pure and simple, and that form of inculcation often remains with people into adulthood—though they manage to find high-sounding ways to rationalize it later.
If all Lombrozo is saying is “let’s not call our opponents names,” then I’m largely on board with her, though name-calling in the form of sarcasm can sometimes be remarkably effective (viz., George Carlin). Her big error is assuming that “respectful debate and discussion” between believers and nonbelievers will actually accomplish something. The only thing it accomplishes is polarization—except for those few people, like Jerry DeWitt or some of my correspondents, who give up their faith because they realized that science is on the right side. But that is usually accomplished via reading and reflection, not discussion.
What we have in Lombrozo’s essay is simply a “why can’t we all get along?” kind of pablum. Well, one could have said the same thing to segregationists in the early Sixties. Why can’t racists and civil rights activists have had respectful discussions? Lombrozo will bridle here, saying, “It’s not fair to compare believers to racists.” But in many respects the comparison is apt, for religious belief (even without action) often marginalizes people, including gays, women, and those of other faiths. It’s divisive by its very nature. I don’t want to sit down and have a respectful discussion with an extremist Muslim, a devout Catholic, or a faithful Mormon. What is to be accomplished by such a chat? I’d rather talk to and write for those who are on the fence than talk to those who are in the asylum.
It is this kind of feel-good “NOMAism” that is endemic to venues like National Public Radio. But in the end it says nothing except “be nice.” It’s just high-class tone trolling. Faith has real dangers in this world, and those won’t go away by having “respectful dialogue” with the faithful. They will go away with books like The God Delusion, Religion Poisons Everything, The End of Faith, and Breaking the Spell.
As for that debate with religionists, well, it looks good on their c.v. but not so good on mine.
