Category Archives: Theology

Faith is a Four Letter Word

That Starts with “W”


mustard seed

How does a mustard seed have faith?
What does that even mean?

(CARROLLTON, TX – Cradle of Civilization) Faith. The final frontier. To boldly go where the mustard seed has gone before. (Apologies to Kirk and Picard and Gene Rodenberry.)

It seems that ‘faith’ is typically thought of as believing without reason. Yet, we are rational creatures, it seems that believing without reason is, well, irrational. Are we being fully human if we are being irrational?

Can you truly believe without reason? To paraphrase Socrates, is an unexamined faith worth believing? Perhaps not. How else can we think of faith?

Here are two considerations.

First Consideration:

What if, when we say “faith” we actually mean “framework for investigation”? Is that different from the idea of “framework of belief”? Is it possible that some a priori belief is necessary to reason? Is it not true that what we bring to an investigation affects the answers we find? Even if we are only looking for facts, is it not true that we will simply miss some facts because we aren’t looking for them? Or conversely, is it not the case that we will see facts that we want to see? Or interpret facts to fit our framework? This idea is called “confirmation bias” and it is considered a fallacy in formal logic because it means that we will see the evidence that supports our position, and not see the the evidence that does not. But, can we truly be rid of confirmation bias? At some other level, isn’t confirmation bias simply necessary? It seems that we may be stuck with confirmation bias, so we should perhaps choose our biases carefully.

It seems the case that in the empirical sciences a specific framework of belief is adopted in favor of some competing framework. A choice has been made. Don’t the investigative sciences start with the belief that there are in fact things to investigate and that such investigation is worthwhile?

Descartes explored the idea of what can we know and how do we know, and determined to set aside all previous thought and start from scratch. His endeavor led him to the famous statement “Cogito ergo sum”, I think, therefore I am. Was this a product of a soaring ego, determined to start from scratch and ignore all thought before him? Or was it simply an honest attempt to rigorously lay a foundation for rational thought, due to a suspicion that something could be wrong with the centuries of previous conclusions? A belief that there was fruit to be found by exploring this suspicion? Is there a difference?

What did this thinking of Descartes provide? What did we gain, and what did we lose? On the one hand, many will argue that we gained a formalized scientific method. On the other hand we lost the concept of Truth with a capital T. The question that used to be asked, “What is true?” was replaced with “Of what can I be certain?” These are different questions and their answers are bound within the framework under which they are considered.

Less immediately obvious, and the reason why Descartes is called the father of modern philosophy, is the overthrow of Aristotelianism (a sort of systematized common sense world view) in favor of, ultimately (and perhaps to his dismay), a materialist world view. Whether this is good or bad depends on who you ask. The point is, we have different world views in discussion these days and they are the result of certain frameworks for investigation. Or, to put it differently, everyone has a belief system.

Leaving off from this admittedly non-rigorously developed first way of thinking about faith, we shall move to the second, which presumes the first.

Second Consideration:

Taking what the Bible has to say as having any value is certainly a faith position, or a framework for investigation. Within that framework, what does it mean to say a mustard seed has faith? Here is the quote under consideration:

And the Lord said, “If you had faith as a grain of mustard seed, you could say to this sycamine tree, ‘Be rooted up, and be planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you. (Luke 17:6)


If you had faith as a grain of mustard seed… how does a mustard seed have faith? What does that mean? Does it have to mean anything? If not, then what is the point of the story? Of the whole Bible? Why read it? The Bible is full of these bizarre stories. Are we supposed to just accept on faith that they are there for some inscrutable reason? What’s the point of that? So, what does it mean to have the faith of a mustard seed? Can we suss it out? Let’s investigate.

What does a mustard seed do? It grows into a mustard tree. In every case where it is provided the opportunity to do so, it grows into a mustard tree. Not a mulberry tree and not a vanilla orchid. Not wheat, not even quadrotriticale, favorite foodstuff of tribbles.

So, what does a mustard seed do? Given the opportunity and amenable environment, it will do exactly what it is supposed to do. A mustard seed, and presumably a tribble, are in complete conformity with the will of God.

Is this not the meaning of having the faith of a mustard seed? To be in complete conformity with the will of God? If we were in complete conformity with the will of God, and it was so ordered that we needed some obscure Biblical tree to jump into the ocean, would it not be so? If we act in accordance with the will of God with the same integrity as a mustard seed, is that not faith? And does not that mean that faith is a work? Is work? We are told:

12 “Truly, truly, I say to you, he who believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do, because I go to the Father. 13* Whatever you ask in my name, I will do it, that the Father may be glorified in the Son; 14 if you ask * anything in my name, I will do it. 15* “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. (Jn 14:12-15)

I don’t know. Sounds like work to me.


Send in the Clones – With Apologies to Frank Sinatra

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Clone Wars.”


What separates the animate from the inanimate? Why, an animating principle, of course!

What separates the animate from the inanimate? Why, an animating principle, of course!

(CARROLLTON, TX – Cradle of Civilization) Dolly the sheep, remember her? She is known because she was the first mammal to be cloned from an adult somatic cell. The cell was taken from the mammary gland of an adult sheep. Believe it or not, this is where she derived her name. One of the scientists involved in this, Ian Wilmut, said since Dolly derived from a mammary cell, and they could not think of a more impressive set of mammary glands than those of Dolly Parton, they named the sheep after her.

So, scientists do notice things outside their test tubes and petri dishes.

Dolly has three mothers, one provided the egg, one provided the DNA, and one carried the clone to term. Sounds like a pilot for a sitcom, right? “Post-modern Family”, maybe?

She was not the first animal to be cloned, but was the first cloned from an adult, differentiated cell, which demonstrated for the first time that a differentiated cell could revert to what is called the embryonic totipotent state, capable of developing into any part of an animal. Dolly was successfully bred, and produced a total of six offspring. She was euthanized at around age 6.5, roughly half the normal lifespan for her breed. She was severely ill with arthritis and lung cancer. It is not thought she developed either condition from being cloned, though there was some speculation that she might have been genetically six years old at birth since that was the age of the donor sheep.

The Daily Post prompt noted above asks, if you could clone yourself, how would you split up your responsibilities? This is a good question, not the least of which is the moral implications of such an action. The answer is, I would not clone myself, and here is why:

What is the difference between the animate and the inanimate? As Aristotle and Aquinas note in the graphic above, there is an animating principle. This is one of those things that sounds like they are using the term to define itself, and that usually means people don’t really understand the concept. So, here’s a thought: Why is there life at all, and how did it get started? The short answer is, “No one knows.”

So, saying that there is an animating principle at least acknowledges that something is different between a rock and a ladybug. What is that difference? One is alive, and one is not. What makes the difference? For lack of anything else, some sort of principle of animation is at work in the ladybug that is absent from the rock.

The Latin root for the word animate is anima, and is translated as breath or soul. Yup. soul. The Greek word is pneuma, and means, you guessed it, breath or soul. In traditional Chinese culture, they have a word for the animating principle also. Variously called “life force” or “energy flow”, the word is qi or chi, and you will never guess what the literal translation is. Yup, breath or air or gas.

Our word “soul” comes from an idea that seems common across a large part of the planet. An animating principle, generally recognized by the fact of some sort of air exchange.

What is the point of all this? Simply, some things are dead and stay dead. We have no examples of anything that has never been alive, coming to life. Life, so far as we know, always comes from life.

Some things are alive for a time, then they are not. The animating principle, though not often thought in this way in our American culture, is the soul. Some do say, “Their soul has left them” when people die. Many, such as atheists, will scoff at this statement. Replace it with, “Their animating principle has left them.” Seems obvious when put like that, does it not?

Something unique is involved in life, and for myself, that uniqueness is tied up in God breathing life into inanimate clay in Genesis.

The implications for me are as follows. A cloned creature, in as much as it is alive, has a soul. The Greeks, while believing that all living things, including plants, have souls, noted variations. There is the vegetative soul that animates plants. The sensitive soul which animates animals. And the rational soul which animates human beings.

The rational soul imbues a dignity into the human person. That means that humans cannot be considered as means to an end, as they are ends in themselves. Humans ought not be used.

Consider implications of cloning. Why not clone yourself (or compatible others) for spare parts? If the reader does not think that will happen once the technology is sufficiently advanced, than the reader is naive. I cannot use another human being, regardless of how derived, as livestock. But, someone will. Oh yes, someone will.

What about cloning and raising soldiers? Again, they would be human beings, used as means, instead of recognized as ends in themselves. And this would be an affront to all of humanity.

In both cases, I suspect the argument would be, “They aren’t really people, they are clones.” But, they would have rational souls, and would therefore be fully human, despite any wordplay. And, depriving them of their human dignity would deprive all mankind of human dignity. Rephrase the last line of Sinatra’s Send in the Clowns:

But where are the clones- send in the clones
Don’t bother, they’re here.

For these reasons, given the chance, I would not clone myself.


Why There Almost Certainly Is No God

Well, sort of. Chapter 4 of “The God Delusion”


"I suppose it is tempting, if the only tool you have is a hammer, to treat everything as if it were a nail." - Maslow, 1966

“I call it the law of the instrument, and it may be formulated as follows: Give a small boy a hammer, and he will find that everything he encounters needs pounding.” – Abraham Kaplan

(CARROLLTON, TX – Cradle of Civilization) The above is one version of a quote that reportedly originated in a speech given by Professor of Philosophy at UCLA, Abraham Kaplan. The occasion was a banquet speech given at conference of the American Educational Research Association. It was reported on in the Journal of Medical Education in June of 1962; I provide a quote from that report below:

The highlight of the 3-day meeting, however, was to be found in Kaplan’s comment on the choice of methods for research. He urged that scientists exercise good judgment in the selection of appropriate methods for their research. Because certain methods happen to be handy, or a given individual has been trained to use a specific method, is no assurance that the method is appropriate for all problems. He cited Kaplan’s Law of the Instrument: “Give a boy a hammer and everything he meets has to be pounded.”

I start with this because it is evident from The God Delusion that Richard Dawkins has a school girl crush on Natural Selection. Natural Selection is the be-all and end-all for Dawkins, and he imbues it with powers and abilities that transcend biology and enter into, well, everything. He sees the hand of Natural Selection, or some non-biological analog of it, literally everywhere.

The second thing I want to point out is a consequence of how his love affair with Natural Selection, leads him into confirmation bias, resulting in a particular misquote that bears some serious scrutiny as it speaks to his willingness to accept an outrageous quote as factual, when it is instead an egregious example of “quote mining”.

We see quote mining all the time in advertisements for movies, where a sentence is taken completely out of context from a scathing review of a movie, and used as if it was praise from a movie reviewer. Here is an example.

Live Free or Die Hard. Blurb: Jack Mathews, New York Daily News: “Hysterically…entertaining.” Actual written line: “The action in this fast-paced, hysterically overproduced and surprisingly entertaining film is as realistic as a Road Runner cartoon.”

Note the ellipses in the above, between “hysterically” and “entertaining.” At least they had the integrity to let on that the quote was edited.

However, in Chapter 4 of The God Delusion, in a section titled The Worship of Gaps Dawkins introduces, in his words, an imaginary “intelligent design theorist” into whose mouth he puts all manner of nonsense, such as “if you don’t understand how something works, never mind: just give up and say God did it.” (p 159.)

This is followed by the below quote, with no ellipses:

St Augustine said it quite openly: ‘There is another form of temptation, even more fraught with danger. This is the disease of curiosity. It is this which drives us to try and discover the secrets of nature, those secrets which are beyond our understanding, which can avail us nothing and which man should not wish to learn.’ (quoted in Freeman 2002) from (p 159.)

It’s pretty powerful statement, right? He describes an imaginary person saying something idiotic, then backs it up with a Doctor of the Church.

Now, I’ve actually read some St. Augustine, and studied his thought a bit. And that quote simply smelled bad. So, I did some checking. In approximately 3 seconds, I found this post on Dawkins, and he referred this post with a link to the actual text. What Augustine actually wrote is in The Confessions, Chapter X.

Allow me to summarize. First, between the somewhat inaccurately quoted “fraught with danger” and the also inaccurately quoted “this is the disease of curiosity” there are 447 words missing.

Quote mining is sometimes called “contextomy”, meaning, like with an appendectomy, where an appendix has been cut out, that in quote mining, the context has been cut out. Suffice to say, excising approximately 50 sentences effectively removes the context. As one of the links I provided above notes at the end of his post, the dishonesty in this misquote is Freeman’s, the intellectual laziness and shoddy scholarship is Dawkins. But, as a reminder, Dawkins has canonized shoddy scholarship. Remember, he needn’t read or understand the arguments in opposition to his, since, “nanny nanny boo bobby.” Ok, that’s my translation of him saying he needn’t read tracts on Leprechauns to refute the existence of same, therefore, he needn’t actually be conversant with, say, Augustine, to refute what he has to say.

As to what Augustine is saying, he is saying that idle curiosity is bad for the same reason that a steady diet of Cheetos is bad. He is not saying that studying nature is bad anymore than eating healthy food is bad. But don’t take my word for it. Read The Confessions of St. Augustine. It is a free Kindle download from Amazon.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch…

Suffice to say, this bit of fact checking has me looking at everything that Dawkins says about anything with a raised eyebrow. Can we  trust his scholarship? Can we trust his conclusions? More to the point, is he addressing actual arguments, or are they all the type of argument with which he introduced his Augustine misquote? That is to say, how many times will we see him present for our consideration an imagined apologist for God, have that person say things that no one says, and then tie it in with a misrepresentation of the position of someone that does exist?

I have no idea. But, let’s briefly look at why there is almost certainly no God.

This entire chapter is a pitting of Intelligent Design (ID) against Natural Selection. Now, a problem here, for me, is simply this. I am not an ID guy. I don’t find the argument compelling, I almost see it as special pleading. And, Dawkins, being a materialist, isn’t going to see anywhere an argument regarding the supernatural that is immaterial, and he is clearly (blissfully?) unaware (based on his laughable treatment of Aquinas) of the concept of simplicity as it would apply to an immaterial All. Instead, he sees any hope of a defensible argument of God being one that deals with a highly complex being.

Clearly we have terminology issues. But this is why, on page 151, Dawkins concludes that the idea of Irreducible Complexity, while it would wreck Natural Selection, would also necessarily wreck God, since God is necessarily irreducibly complex. Here, look at this paragraph:

In any case, even though genuinely irreducible complexity would wreck Darwin’s theory, if it were ever found, who is to say that it wouldn’t wreck the intelligent design theory as well? Indeed, it already has wrecked the intelligent design theory, for, as I keep saying and will say again, however little we know about God, the one thing we can be sure of is that he would have to be very very complex and presumably irreducibly so!

Because Dawkins is a materialist he simply can’t or won’t see this idea: God, being immaterial is necessarily simple. For God to be complex, even irreducibly complex, would require that God be material. It would also require that God be made by an Intelligent Designer, or perhaps, Natural Selection. Complexity requires matter, discrete matter, parts, if you will, working together in some way. To be immaterial is to be simple. No parts. This is not part of Dawkins’s God Hypothesis, and so it doesn’t factor in to any of his arguments. And it gives rise to the snarky, “Oh yeah, so who made God? In your face Bozo!” retorts that are thought to be so, umm, smart?

Here is another misunderstanding (or misrepresentation, it is hard to know which) regarding the concept of mystery. “Mystics exult in mystery and want it to stay mysterious” (p 152) meaning the earlier noted idea that if we don’t understand it, just say God did it. Like that was ever an actual argument.

Now, there may be some folks that hold that position. But, it isn’t an authentic position. Mystery is the subject of knowledge. Mystery refers to a reality so large, and so intelligible (yes, intelligible), that we will never exhaust it, though there is no theoretical end to how much we can understand. Let that sink in a bit.

So, lets look at the sections in this chapter, keeping all of the above in mind.

In the section titled Irreducible Complexity, he gives us the parable of Mount Improbable. This is an argument about probabilities, the linchpin of the whole chapter, hence the title of the chapter. Another way of saying “Why there almost certainly is no God” is “Why there is probably no God.” So, he’s taking a scientific approach. Based on probability. Like his approach, based on probability, where he concluded that “very probably” advanced alien civilizations exist (p. 98.)

So, Mount Improbable is this mountain with a sheer cliff face on one side, that is all but insurmountable. The ID folks say, “You just can’t get from the floor of the valley up that sheer wall in one leap. Therefore Intelligent Design.” (Insert caveat regarding taking anything Dawkins represents as an argument from his opposition being at least questionable in its accuracy, viz. Augustine misquote above.) Anyway, natural selection doesn’t climb the sheer face. See, on the other side of the mountain, which ID proponents are too stupid to see, is a gently sloping path along which Dawkins invites us to wend our leisurely way up the mountain to the summit, be it an eye, or wing, or some other supposedly irreducibly complex thing. We have replaced a virtual impossibility with a series of only mildly improbable changes brought on by natural selection. No intelligent design necessary.

The section on irreducible complexity ends with the quote from p. 151 reproduced above. This then led into The Worship Of Gaps, which includes the astonishing misquote of Augustine.

He gives an interesting example of a Penn and Teller magic trick where they apparently shoot each other, and each catches the bullet in their teeth. He says that, rather than think, “A miracle!” we should think, “Wow, they are world class illusionists, and I just can’t figure it out.” This he says should be the proper way we respond to apparent irreducible complexity. I don’t think he intended it this way, but he kind of said we should shout “Wonder workers!” instead of “Miracle workers!” I would hope what he really meant was “We should admire their skill and ask ourselves, ‘How did they do it?'”

He then spends most of the rest of this section on irreducible complexity and intelligent design and why natural selection solves every problem he can think to throw at it. There is also a lot of talk about consciousness raising. We should embrace natural selection because it will open our minds to heretofore unimaginable vistas of rationality.

How this demonstrates why there is almost certainly no God is unclear to me. So far he has mounted an argument against ID, supposing it to be the strongest argument for the existence of God, or at least that is my assumption. So, if you take out the strongest argument, well, you’ve taken out the strongest argument. You have failed to demonstrate why probability precludes God.

So, then we go to the section titled Anthropic Principle: Planetary Version. Here he gets at a more interesting question. Set aside all the development of life, how did life begin? Fasten your seat-belts.

He starts here:

The root of evolution in non-biological chemistry somehow seems to present a bigger gap than any particular transition during subsequent evolution. And in one sense it is a bigger gap. That one sense is quite specific, and it offers no comfort to the religious apologist. The origin of life only had to happen once. We therefore can allow it to have been an extremely improbable event, many orders of magnitude more improbable than most people realize, as I shall show (p 162).

Dawkins then goes into the anthropic principle. I will paraphrase briefly. It seems that things are incredibly fine-tuned, even at the atomic level, such that even a slight variance would preclude the laws of nature as we know them today, and conceivably, life, or even existence, itself. In other words, things have to be just like they are in order for us to exist. Well, that just kind of seems self-evident to me. Yes it is true that things have to be just like they are for us to exist. But my own almost gut response to the question, “What would happen if something were different?” is:

  1. If things were different but we still existed, then we would be correspondingly different. Maybe silicon based instead of carbon based, for example. But would I still be me? How can I know? Things are as they are and we cannot test differences in say, how the nuclear forces work at the atomic level. Does the question have any meaning?
  2. Or, we wouldn’t exist at all, and so we wouldn’t be asking about it.

I have always been basically uninterested in the argument. Now, Dawkins believes that the anthropic principle works against ID, since he sees it as an alternative theory. I guess that depends. I can see an ID supporter saying, “It had to be designed this way” and maybe throwing in irreducible complexity to boot as support. Nevertheless, Dawkins has simply decided that ID folks can’t use the anthropic principle, I guess because it is too scientific and they’re just not allowed. Because, you see, the anthropic approach “is very different, and it has a faintly Darwinian feel” (p 163.)

He then intends to show why they are mutually exclusive. He provides two views, using the so-called Goldilocks Zone (This orbit is too far out, this orbit is too close in, but this orbit is just right) as an example. ID says that God made the universe and put the earth in the Goldilocks Zone so that life could be supported. The anthropic principle says, no, no design involved, that’s just how it worked out, because, statistics.

He then actually says, on page 165, “Scientists invoke the magic of large numbers.” He picks one in a billion as the chance that life arises on a given planet in the Goldilocks Zone, and states that there are a billion billion planets in the Goldilocks Zone. He concludes that “If the odds of life originating spontaneously on a planet were a billion to one against, nevertheless that stupefyingly improbably event would still happen on a billion planets.”

He then states that his statistical argument “completely demolishes” any suggestion that we should postulate design to fill the gap (p 166.)

Alrighty then.

As I have already noted, I am not an ID guy, but, Dawkins’s statistical argument is a farce because he just can’t look at someone and say, “you can’t use this as part of your design argument.” Of course they can use the anthropic principle as part of an ID argument. He has not demonstrated that the anthropic principle is simply off limits for ID theorists. What a stupid conclusion.

Here is the richest part of his scientific and statistical tour de force regarding the anthropic principle:

The origin of life, by contrast, lies outside the reach of that crane (he refers to Darwinian Evolution as a “crane” that lifts our consciences), because natural selection cannot proceed without it.

Here I agree, natural selection presumes life, it does not explain why there is any life. But, wait, there’s more:

Here the anthropic principle comes into its own. We can deal with the unique origin of life by postulating a very large number of planetary opportunities. Once that initial stroke of luck has been granted – and the anthropic principle most decisively grants it to us – natural selection takes over: and natural selection is emphatically not a matter of luck (p 168.)

The anthropic principle decisively grants us luck.

A moment of reverential awe may be inserted here. May I suggest we all listen to this before we continue?

Another stupid conclusion near the end of this section: “…design certainly does not work as an explanation for life, because design is ultimately not cumulative and it therefore raises bigger questions that it answers…”

So, all you designers out there, as you work on things, and build models, and then adjust your design to account for heretofore unknown variables revealed by your models, just remember, all those design changes made to make your project perform as you have envisioned, well, that’s not cumulative.

So, it goes on an on. His chapter on The Anthropic Principle: Cosmological Version is especially rich. He says things like

A God capable  of calculating the Goldilocks values for the six numbers (Martin Rees, in a book titled “Just Six Numbers”, has come up with six fundamental constants required for life as we know it – FB) would have to be at least as improbable as the finely tuned combination of numbers itself, and that’s very improbable indeed. This is exactly the premise of the whole discussion at hand.

This appears to be Dawkins’s explanation as to why there almost certainly is not God. Because God is at least as improbable as the fine tuning necessary to have life in the first place.


Dawkins explanation of why the universe is the way it is, is much more scientific. It involves the multi-verse. Seriously, see page 173. The multi-verse. In the multi-verse, those universes with the six numbers dialed to life will… will… will mean that we are in one of them.

Lastly, on page 177, Dawkins addresses the idea of a simple God. He says that someone named Swinburne asserts, “without justification” that God is a single substance. Dawkins simply asserts on page 178 that a God capable of controlling the individual status of every particle in the universe cannot be simple.

Therefore, almost certainly, no God.

That’s his argument. God is too complicated to have been evolved, therefore, he probably does not exist. That’s the summation. It is based on his God Hypothesis, which I noted does not include the attribute of being immaterial, and then works from there. The rest of the book is about why, since God probably does not exist, we should dispense with religion.

Dawkins whole chapter on the probability of God amounts to mere opinion. He prefers luck.

If you find his arguments compelling, let me know.


The Arguments for God’s Existence

As Caricatured By Dawkins


Misrepresentations is not Refutation

Misrepresentation is not Refutation

(CARROLLTON – TX, Cradle of Civilization) In our most recent meeting, the members of the obscure book club, Men On Books (MOB, or HDL–I’m still trying to figure out how to render Men On Books properly in Latin. If the Latin words do make the acronym, HDL, it is important to note that we are the good cholesterol), met to discuss Chapters 3 and 4 of The God Delusion. (You can start at the beginning of this series of posts here.) Our hopes of finding something to sink our teeth into were dashed by these two chapters and we spent a few minutes discussing if we should even bother reading the rest of the book, given the continuing failure to actually make a cogent argument against the existence of God.

In the end we decided to continue on, if for no reason than to be able to respond in the affirmative if ever asked, “Have you even read it?” But we were left wondering, “Why is this so bad? Why do people think it ‘fine literature’?”

As I was writing this and rereading what I was writing, and continuing to wonder why we found it so bad, and why others found it so good, I think I finally figured it out. Dawkins is a materialist. This is as opposed to being an idealist or a realist. The linked article discusses both materialism and idealism and I offer this short excerpt for those not familiar and who may be curious:

Despite the large number of philosophical schools and subtle nuances between many,[1][2][3]all philosophies are said to fall into two primary categories, which are defined in contrast to each other: Idealism, and materialism.[a] The basic proposition of these two categories pertains to the nature of reality, and the primary distinction between them is the way they answer two fundamental questions: “what does reality consist of and how does it originate?” To idealists, spirit or mind is primary, and created matter secondary. To materialists, matter is primary and mind or spirit is secondary, a product of matter acting upon matter.[3]

What MOB and Dawkins have then is a fundamental difference in world view.

I and my fellow MOB club members are realists, a third option not mentioned in the above quote, but briefly discussed in the linked article. We are neither materialists nor idealists. These are philosophical positions, not theological positions. The God Delusion is therefore not actually attacking a theology, it is attacking a philosophy, but Dawkins seems unaware of this difference, at least as presented in the first four chapters.

What this further means is that we would need a whole series of posts tracing the philosophical roots of these different world views, and attempting to show where we believe Dawkins is wrong and why we think materialism is untenable. (Since he hasn’t really addressed idealism neither will I.) I have to wonder how many following along here would be interested in pursuing such a discussion. But the intent in this examination of The God Delusion isn’t to promote one world view over another, it is to evaluate the arguments that Dawkins has for asserting that there is no God. However, the fact that we have different world views means that most of what will follow regarding The God Delusion will derive from the fact that in our opinion his God Hypothesis just isn’t a hypothesis shared by most Christians. His God Hypothesis is missing something fundamental:

…there exists a superhuman, supernatural intelligence who deliberately designed and created the universe and everything in it, including us.

What is missing? The word ‘immaterial’.

Because Dawkins is a materialist, he will fundamentally (and necessarily) miss the argument being made by theologians coming from a world view that admits of both the material and the immaterial–he simply won’t see the actual argument or will misunderstand it because the premise is either alien to him, or has been rejected by him. Sadly, this means his presentation of many of the theological arguments are simply inaccurate caricatures.

He has missed possibly the most fundamental aspect of God as understood by most who believe in such a being – the being is immaterial. Consequently, the idea, for example, of God being simple rather than complex makes no sense to Dawkins, as, being a materialist, higher order functioning only comes with complexity.

So, with that caveat, let’s run through his treatment of the arguments. He starts with Aquinas and his “five proofs”. He lumps the first three together and dispenses with them by saying that it is an unwarranted assumption that God is immune to the regress, and besides “Even if we allow the dubious luxury of arbitrarily conjuring up a terminator to an infinite regress and giving it a name… there is absolutely no reason to endow that terminator with any of the properties normally ascribed to God…” (p 101). This is a very nearly inarticulate presentation of Aquinas’s first three ways.

I will just briefly comment on his dismissal of the First Way. Those who have been following along in this series of posts won’t be shocked to learn that Dawkins simply misrepresents the argument from the first sentence:

1. The Unmoved Mover. Nothing moves without a prior mover. (p 100)

What Aquinas actually said:

The first and more manifest way is the argument from motion. It is certain, and evident to our senses, that in the world some things are in motion. Now whatever is in motion is put in motion by another, for nothing can be in motion except it is in potentiality to that towards which it is in motion; whereas a thing moves inasmuch as it is in act.

This does require some unpacking and I am going to be overly brief. The first thing to note is that by “move” is meant “change”. The second thing to note is that this change is from potential to act. The third thing to note, from Aquinas’s conclusion, is that this is more about causality than it is about infinite regress:

But this cannot go on to infinity, because then there would be no first mover, and, consequently, no other mover; seeing that subsequent movers move only inasmuch as they are put in motion by the first mover; as the staff moves only because it is put in motion by the hand.

Dawkins focuses on the infinite regress, rather than the actual argument concerning essentially ordered causation. I think he misunderstands. I think he believes that this argument concerns temporally ordered causation. But, it does not. Briefly, and incompletely, think about the difference like this:

  • For temporally ordered causation picture a line of dominoes. The first domino (call it the prime mover) falls and hits the next, and so on. After the first domino falls, it (the prime mover) can be removed from the scene, and the line of dominoes will continue to fall. The prime mover started a chain of events, but now is unnecessary to the continuation of the chain of events.
  • For essentially ordered causation, think hand moving a staff which is moving a brick. Take the hand away, and the brick stops moving, even if the staff and brick are still there. In this case, the hand is the prime mover. Take away the prime mover and the motion ends. The prime mover is essential to the movement (or change) and once it is gone, so is the change. In this case, prime does not refer to first in a temporal ordering. Prime mover in this case speaks to something that is essentially bound up, right here, right now, with a given change (or movement) from potential to actual.

Bear in mind that the Five Ways given by Aquinas are summaries, and presume a certain metaphysics that his students would have been taught prior to engaging in theology. They would have understood the concepts of act and potential and what is involved in moving something from potential to act.

In Dawkins’ caricature of The Unmoved Mover he appears innocent of any understanding regarding act and potency as understood by Aquinas (or his students). So, for him to say that the first three ways all have to do with a regress from which the only way to escape is to invoke God is simply not accurate. In essentially ordered change, the existence of pure act, that is, something that is in no way potential, is required. If something is in no way potential, but is actuality itself, then it cannot be put into motion by some other outside principle. Hence the term, unmoved mover.

Simply, Dawkins does not understand the argument, and his dismissal of it is silly.

Speaking of silly, he then asserts that logicians have noticed that omniscience and omnipotence are mutually incompatible. I have to assume his presentation of what “logicians” say is as off the mark as his presentation of what Aquinas says, otherwise, he should find some new logicians. But here is what “they” say from page 101:

If God is omniscient, he must already know how he is going to intervene to change the course of history using his omnipotence. But that means he can’t change his mind about his intervention, which means he is not omnipotent.

He calls this a witty little paradox. The problem is it is not a paradox as the word is commonly used, i.e., something unexpected or ironic, yet true. Rather it is a logical paradox in that it is an invalid argument and is therefore nonsense. The value of such a paradox is that it can make clear where definitions thought to be rigorous are not. In cases of an apparent paradox, where there appears to be a contradiction, but the statement is nevertheless true, the apparent paradox can generally be resolved with the proper frame of reference. But this “witty little paradox” isn’t in touch with reality. It is simply a content-less statement masquerading as having meaning.

If the above is actually what “logicians” say, then Dawkins is overly impressed by his logicians. Under what possible scenario would an all-knowing, all-powerful being ever want or need to change his mind? The answer is “no possible scenario.” If a being is all-knowing, by definition, he knows all. To change his mind, among other things, would indicate that this faux omniscient being became aware of something of which he was previously unaware. Since that cannot happen with an actual all-knowing being, the all-powerful part is irrelevant. For a being to change his mind does not require it be all-powerful. Rather, it requires the being to not be all-knowing.

An all-knowing being would never need to change his mind. Saying he can’t change his mind because he never would have a need to, isn’t even correct. It isn’t that he can’t– it’s not about “can” or “can’t”–it is that he will never need to change his mind. If you are all-knowing and all-powerful then you have already set everything up as it should be and a complete lack of any need to alter anything you have set up is a demonstration of power, not weakness. But Dawkins thinks this paradox is clever. What it has to do with Aquinas’s proofs is not stated. I see it as the equivalent of Dawkins taking another admiring selfie in the bathroom mirror. He’s just so pleased with himself that he has to have digressions that serve only to further his intellectual preening.

I shake my head in wonderment.

After taking about three pages to dismiss Aquinas, he takes roughly six pages to muddle around Anselm’s Ontological Proof. Now, since I personally do not understand Anselm’s argument, I have nothing I can say for or against Dawkins’ presentation or refutation of it.

Next we have the Argument from Beauty. Dawkins basically says, things are beautiful and they don’t need God to be so. Since he doesn’t have much else to say on the matter, he then takes a few stabs at the Catholic Church and how it brutalized artists in the middle ages and forced art out of them. Which has nothing to do with the argument from beauty. What Dawkins does here is basically say that “the argument from beauty says beauty indicates there is a God. I say it doesn’t. I win.”

Next we have the Argument from Personal Experience. Dawkins response to this argument is that you probably hallucinated or at least you are just seeing what you want to see, and anyway, don’t expect your belief to be compelling evidence. Now, I’ve never in my studies run across the Proof from Personal Experience, so all I can say to this particular section is “so what?” as I don’t really recognize it as a general argument for the existence of God anyway.

Next we have the Argument from Admired Religious Scientists. Basically in this section he asserts that there aren’t that many believing scientists, and that they are all suspect anyway. For example, Mendel, an Augustinian Monk, was from the 19th century and knew that being a monk was the easiest route to time for studies. Being a monk was “the equivalent of a research grant” (p 125). He finishes by quoting from studies that indicate that smart people are atheists and dumb people are religious. Oh, by the way, I’ve never run across the “argument from admired religious scientists.” He presents it as if serious theologians base their arguments on “Newton was religious.” So, if God is good enough for Newton, He should be good enough for you and me. No one makes such a silly argument, so I think the whole purpose of this section was just to point out that religious people are stupid and that real scientists today are atheists, and if we could bring all the supposedly religious scientists forward into our enlightened age, they would come out of the closet and be atheists also. Yawn.

Then we have Pascal’s Wager. Pascal’s Wager is not an argument for the existence of God. It is an argument regarding belief in God. Not the same thing. Not worth discussing further.

I’ve never heard of the Bayesian argument, but have no reason to think that Dawkins’s treatment of it is any more accurate than his treatment of Aquinas. I really think he just added it in because it involves probability, and probability is the basis of Chapter 4, “Why There Almost Certainly Is No God.”

So, we’ll talk about that chapter, and Dawkins’ school girl crush on Natural Selection, in the next post.

Asking the Wrong Question

Chapter 1 of “The God Delusion”


Presumption is not demonstration.

Presumption is not demonstration.

(CARROLLTON – TX, Cradle of Civilization) This past Thursday, January 15, the members of the obscure book club Men on Books met to discuss the first two chapters of Dawkins’s book, The God Delusion. (The preface is commented on here.)

Fortunately we had whiskey and cigars on hand.

It is difficult to express the disappointment felt by the members in their reading of these first two chapters. (Chapter Two will be discussed in a follow-up post.) We assumed, based on the press surrounding this book, that we would be reading a very well articulated argument against the belief in God. We were left wondering if we were reading the same book the reviewers had so lavishly praised.

We now look forward to the next two chapters in hopes of finding the well articulated arguments that failed to make an appearance in the first two chapters.

Meanwhile, the first chapter of the book is titled, A Deeply Religious Non-Believer. He provides a quote from Einstein using that terminology which I am assuming is the source of the title. By this title, and the content of the the chapter, I take this to mean that Dawkins is passionate about his Atheism, and I at least got the impression that his main reason for his deeply religious non-belief is his deeply religious belief in evolution. He acknowledges at least being religious regarding Nature, in terms of his defined Einsteinian religion, but rightly concludes that calling himself religious would be misleading (p 40 – all page references are to the paperback edition).

He spends much of this chapter explaining the different ideas to which the word “God” is attached, and at least he did manage to make one thing clear. By “God” he is very specifically referring to “the supernatural” and not to any concept of  a god that is essentially explainable in terms of Nature. So, he goes to great lengths to make sure the reader understands that when Einstein or Hawking use the word “God” they aren’t referring to anything supernatural, they are instead referring to Nature, and all the natural workings thereof. Well and good. Defining one’s terms is always a good starting point.

But in this process we also learn that all the smart, honest people believe in science, evolution, and nature, and that the religious mind is weak (p 38).

In the chapter he also includes a quote from Carl Sagan which he ascribes to Sagan’s The Pale Blue Dot, and in which Sagan asks a fundamentally wrong question, and then provides a silly response supposedly representative of his target:

How is it that hardly any major religion has looked at science and concluded, ‘This is better than we thought! The Universe is much bigger than our prophets said, grander, more subtle, more elegant’? Instead they say, ‘No, no, no! My god is a little god, and I want him to stay that way.’ (pp 32-33)

What is fundamentally wrong with the question? It is dishonest and is a text book straw man argument. In any intellectually honest scientific inquiry the first questions should be, “What do I know is true?”and “Are all the assumptions I bring to this inquiry valid?”

A non-agendized version of this question would be, “Is it the case that most of the major religions of the world have a belief in a small god and that they want to keep their small god? Is it true that the major religions of the world are simply opposed to science and the scientific method?” An intellectually honest attempt to give a representative answer would involve researching their writings and talking to their authorized representatives to at least have a passing familiarity with their actual position. However, we have already learned that Dawkins feels no need to do so as mentioned in a previous post here.

In order to introduce some semblance of a scientific approach to Sagan’s silly question and answer I would have to ask Dawkins, “Is it true that the major religions of the world reject science? That they don’t find scientific knowledge useful? That the scientific view of the Universe is much more majestic and subtle than their prophets said? That they all simply concluded, ‘I like my god small and manageable?” To which Dawkins should have to respond, “I don’t know, since I don’t read Pastafarianism.” Except I rather expect he would simply assert, “Yes, that’s all self-evident.”

The only religion I know anything about is Catholicism, so I will only speak to what I know. Is Catholicism one of these major religions that believes “My god is a little god, and I want him to stay that way”? That rejects science and the scientific method? I am just going to state “No, in my studies no one has ever put forth any such idea, in fact, quite the opposite. In fact, the Catholic Church celebrates advance of human understanding, and recognizes scientific inquiry as a critical human activity.” What he would have to say about that I will discuss in the post on Chapter 2. I will give you a hint though. It won’t involve him demonstrating a damn thing.

The presumptive arrogance of the above quote from Sagan, however, is most certainly not an argument for or against anything. It is simply a dismissal, without warrant, of “major religions” as being small-minded. Without warrant. And it says nothing about the supernatural, which is Dawkins’ stated target. So why does Dawkins include it? I don’t know. I do know he believes Scientists are smart and Religionists have weak minds. I can only presume that the intent of this chapter is to plant the idea that religious belief is idiotic so that he doesn’t have to actually address religious belief in the rest of the book except to wink and say, “Typical religious ‘thought'”.

I would like to close this article by looking at Dawkins’ concerns over the privileging of religion. There is an example in the chapter, in support of the idea that religion gets a free pass in the US, regarding a 12 year old boy (James Nixon) wearing a T-Shirt that was opposed to Homosexuality, Islam, and Abortion. Dawkins spends time showing that the kid won the right to wear the shirt through the courts. Dawkins objected to the reason he won the right:

The parents might have had a conscionable case if they had based it [their lawsuit] on the First Amendment’s guarantee of freedom of speech. But they didn’t. Instead, the Nixon’s lawyers appealed to the constitutional right to freedom of religion. (p 45)

Just for proper reference, here is the text of the First Amendment to the Constitution:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

You will note that Dawkins’ complaint, simplified, is that Nixon’s lawyers had the audacity to use the First Amendment, instead of the more “conscionable” use of the First Amendment. He also caricatures this as a case of legalized discrimination against homosexuals disguised as a case in defense of freedom of religion. Note, he is equating the wearing of a t-shirt (now solely focused on the “homosexuality is a sin” part) as “discrimination”, a legal and technical term under Constitutional law and for which the wearing of a t-shirt by a 12 year old simply does not apply. Should I be concerned that Dawkins, who, after all, is a noted biologist and well-respected in his field, misapplies a technical term in the field of Constitutional law, when he has not trained as a lawyer, nor is he an expert in the nuances of Constitutional law? I don’t know. Should I care when he misconstrues and misapplies terms and concepts and draws erroneous conclusions in other areas in which he has no expertise?

You will also note that the First Amendment specifically calls out Religion under its protection, so Dawkins may be upset that Religion has preferential treatment in the USA, but it does so by law, and by the way, none of this addresses the supernatural. Nevertheless, there is an irony I want to point out.

Immediately after this example of the privileging of religion, Dawkins gives another (and now timely) example involving the printing of cartoons of the Prophet in Denmark circa 2006 (p 46). He goes to great lengths to describe how the cartoons were used by some Muslims to deliberately foment unrest and cause property damage and murder. He is rightly upset about this, but he has a special anger for those folks who “…expressed ‘respect’ and ‘sympathy’ for the deep ‘offence’ and ‘hurt’ that Muslims had ‘suffered…”’ (p 49). Dawkins does say that he is opposed to offending or hurting people just for the sake of it. But, he further says that “All politicians must get used to disrespectful cartoons of their faces, and nobody riots in their defense.” This is at least a tacit defense of those who printed the cartoons of Mohammed.

Let’s reverse these two examples of ‘privilege.’ Suppose the 12 year old wore a t-shirt expressing anti-Muslim sentiment (which in fact he did.) Suppose the Danish paper published cartoons slandering Gays. Would Dawkins then be supporting the kid’s right to wear the t-shirt? Would he tell gay folks to “get used to it”?

If I were him, I would reply by saying gay people are real and God is not. I don’t think he would say gay people are real and religion is not, and maybe he wouldn’t say since all the religious are weak-minded, they shouldn’t have any rights. But I do wonder.

What the above last example suggests to me is that Dawkins conflates religion and supernatural. I say that because, so far, all his discussion has been about religion and the things people do in the name of their religion. But, this is not an argument against the supernatural. It is a comment on human beings and the things they do. And he apparently feels that if not for religion, the world would be a sane and rational place and everyone would just get along. That’s an open question. But simply convincing everyone that God is not real won’t make people behave. I am perhaps pessimistic when I say that it is more likely that people will find some other way to justify their actions. In fact, in a secular world, this is already happening. People are blaming their environment, their social status, their education, their historical ties to slavery, their lack of privilege, etc. for all their failings. This is hardly the sole province of religion.

Dawkins promises to dispense with proofs of God in Chapter 3, and then explain why there almost certainly is no God in Chapter 4 and the book club will discuss these chapters on January 29th.

(Next: The God Hypothesis.)

Basking In His Brilliance

Continuing a discussion of “The God Delusion”


Allow me to write a preface to the paperback edition...

Allow me to write a preface to the paperback edition…

(CARROLLTON, TX – Cradle of Civilization) I am four pages into the preface to the paperback edition of The God Delusion. The first paragraph dispenses with unfavorable reviews thusly:

Several unfavorable reviews begin with the phrase, which I long ago learned to treat as ominous, ‘I’m an atheist, BUT…’

The phrase is ominous because:

The sequel is nearly always unhelpful, nihilistic or – worse – suffused with a sort of exultant negativity.

So, unfavorable reviews are irrelevant when written by atheists, because?

Because Dawkins says so.

We are further admonished to “Look out for…trick…” statements from the likes of CS Lewis that “I used to be an atheist” because that statement serves to establish “street cred” and it is surprising how often it works.

Here, in the first two paragraphs of his preface, Dawkins has told us to never mind dissenting opinions, because, never mind them, they aren’t legitimate, because, obviously.

Dawkins further supports his dismissal of dissenting opinion by explaining that he needn’t fully engage with the writings of those who believe God exists in order to refute their arguments because it is not necessary for him to study Pastafarianism to refute the existence of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. He then recounts a bit of satire from an admirer named P. Z. Myers, I think because he believes the satire provides compelling support for his lack of need to understand what he is arguing against.

Myers uses the story of The Emperor’s New Clothes to compare the people who suggest that one should at least have a passing understanding of the argument before refuting it, with the sycophants who refuse to admit that the emperor is naked. It is a clever bit of writing. Clever as it may be, it is ultimately irrelevant for at least two reasons.

First, this kind of smug ridicule is tantamount to schoolyard bullying where two or more people are making fun of someone else-the attackers simply reinforce each other and heap derision on their target. Now, I have been on the receiving end of schoolyard bullying and I have participated in such bullying. I have also been a passive observer and at times I have tried to intervene. Here is what I know about schoolyard bullying: at no time has it ever been mistaken for reasoned debate.

Second, it does matter whether or not you are arguing against the actual position of the opposition. Presenting the Flying Spaghetti Monster as a religion, and then refuting that religion, says nothing at all about any other religion, and here is why: If you are debating with someone about rugby and football, and you are thinking of American football and the person you are talking with is thinking about what Americans call soccer, you can’t argue the merits of football as opposed to rugby in any meaningful manner. As you compare various rules about both games, the person that thinks “soccer” when he hears “football” will be unable to defend his sport, largely because the arguments against football/soccer will seem nonsensical and it will be difficult for him to defend his position as there is no common starting point.

The thing is, just because the soccer aficionado cannot defend his sport against irrelevant argument is no demonstration that his sport is not worth defending. Nor is it a reason to simply disregard his argument because you don’t understand his sport and assume it to be something it is not.

So, there we are.  FB

(Next: Asking the Wrong Question)

The God Delusion

Autobiography of Richard Dawkins?


Let us hope he has a stronger argument than "nanny nanny boo bobby."

Let us hope he has a stronger argument than
“nanny nanny boo bobby.”

(CARROLLTON, TX-Cradle of Civilization) An obscure book club, Men on Books, will undertake the reading of The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins. This book has been described by the Sunday Times (London) as:

An entertaining, wildly informative, splendidly written polemic…

And Penn and Teller allow as to how,

If this book doesn’t change the world, we’re all screwed.

The book’s dedication page is an “In Memoriam”:

Douglas Adams (1952-2001)
‘Isn’t it enough to see that a garden is beautiful
without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?’

Without having read the book yet, this I take as possibly indicative of his approach: A garden is beautiful, and you don’t have to believe in the supernatural for that to be so. To which the only response I can presently muster is, “So what?”

Nevertheless, the HDL will meet every other Thursday, beginning on 1/15/2015 and discuss what we have read. There are ten chapters and two chapters seem to average about 90 pages or so, and so we will tackle 2 chapters prior to each meeting, or 1 chapter a week. We will review the merits of the argument presented, and comment on same.

Note, as of this moment, I have no intention to prove the existence of God. I wish only to see the merit of the position that Dawkins champions, which I believe is stated in the title of Chapter 4: “Why there is almost certainly no God.”

I will, after each meeting of HDL, post a brief summary of our discussion of this book. FB

(Next: Basking In His Brilliance)