PHILOSOPHY & POLITY

The following guest post is from Mattheus von Guttenberg, who is currently studying history and economics at Flagler College in St. Augustine, Florida and writes for the blog Economic Thought. Click here to get in touch with Mattheus!

Charles Taylor, in his seminal work Sources of the Self, puts forward an argument on the relationship between identity and moral truth using a variety of methods, but most notably that of the transcendental argument. Taylor, belonging to what might roughly be called a Neo-Aristotelian camp of moral philosophers, argues that we can derive moral truth by virtue of a moral ontology intrinsic to us as perceptive and evaluative subjects. While the transcendental argument Taylor employs does not appear to us readily and clearly, it is nonetheless the entire vertebrae of his argument without which we would have no reason to accept his conclusions. D.P. Baker, of the University of Natal in South Africa, has written cogently on this topic. Because it carries such persuasive potential, I feel a devoted exploration of Taylor’s transcendental argument, as well as Baker’s contribution to the discussion, is in order. It is my opinion that Taylor does not successfully prove his claim on morality as the content of his argument is inappropriate to the form in which he carries it.

Read more…

Image courtesty of superscholars.org

I recently learned that John Hick has passed away at the age of 90. I have been holding on to this piece for quite some time, as I feel I haven’t quite said what I want to say, or am not saying it quite as succinctly as I would like. Regardless, I would like to post this in memory of John Hick, with whom I have almost always disagreed but always enjoyed reading nevertheless. As always, please feel free to offer your critiques and comments, especially since I view this as a fairly rough piece.

John Hick begins his explication of the Irenaean Theodicy by briefly summarizing and simultaneously discounting the Augustinian approach. I shall not spend much more time than Hick does in defining the Augustinian approach, and the only reason I do so at all is to offer a companion against which Hick’s Irenaean Theodicy might be compared as divergent from traditional Christian theodicy. In short, the Augustinian model follows a traditional Christian viewpoint of creation and the fall of man. It postulates that men (and angels) were created as perfect, free, and finite beings who fell from perfection as a consequence of their misuse of freedom.[1] Hick states that, “the Augustinian approach…hinges upon the idea of the fall as the origin of moral evil, which has in turn brought about the almost universal carnage of nature.”[2] An integral piece of Augustinian Theodicy inherent in thinkers all the way from St. Augustine to Alvin Platinga is the free-will defense against the Problem of Evil. This defense chiefly rests upon the idea that God’s creation was entirely perfect and yet man and angels chose to sin of their own free choice, which resulted in the evil that we now see present in the fallen world. Read more…

Welcome to the January 30^th, 2012 edition of the Philosophers’ Carnival! The goal of the Carnival is to highlight the best and most engaging blog posts in the area of philosophy – we have a lot of great submissions, so let’s dig in.

Epistemology

Clayton over at Think Tonk brings us a pithy post on a lack of evidence for evidentialism. Clayton argues that there exist instances wherein a person could in good faith believe she has good reason to believe that she is warranted in believing p all the while lacking sufficient evidence for believing p. There is also a valuable exchange in the comments section of the post. An excerpt from the main post:

Here, now, is my anti-evidentialist argument. William has sufficient justification to believe that he permissibly believes that he permissibly believes God exists. William, however, does not have sufficient evidence to believe that God exists. So, according to [the positive accessibility thesis], it is permissible to believe without sufficient evidence. According to the evidentialist, it is never permissible to believe without sufficient evidence. Thus, the evidentialist view is mistaken.

Following in the vein of beliefs, Jim over at Agent Intellect presents an explication on the differences between traditional Global Skepticism ala Descartes and Plantinga’s Evolutionary Argument against Naturalism. While he admits there is a measure of truth in likening the EAAN to Global Skepticism, he claims they differ substantial ways:

Plantinga’s EAAN is significantly different from classical global skepticism. First, we do not have to have a reason for a belief if it is properly basic, and such a belief can constitute knowledge even if we don’t know that we know it. We are justified, or our beliefs are warranted, up until the point where we have a reason for thinking them to be false. The EAAN provides just such a reason: if naturalism is true, then it is improbable or inscrutable that any given belief would be true. After this, the EAAN has the same effect as the more traditional global skeptical arguments: any reason you can give for a particular belief is itself subject to the EAAN and is therefore not trustworthy. There is no stopping the rot once it’s started. Indeed, part of the genius of Plantinga’s argument is that it amounts to a global skeptical argument that arises from within externalism.

Injecting a little bit of Hume into the mix, Maryann from the Examiner discusses the is-ought distinction, arguing that for an ought statement to be true there must exist some being to which that statement corresponds/describes, but which does not justify the statement. An excerpt from the piece:

Translating from epistemology back over to ethics, there needs to be a real ought in order for there to be moral knowledge, but 1) the real ought is not justified by its correspondence to reality—that would be saying its correspondence justifies its correspondence (begging in a circle) and 2) a particular ought is not made to correspond by its justification—that would be like saying that the act of believing made something real to believe in (also begging in a circle). No, there must be ‘both’ justification ‘and’ correspondence. If one or both is lacking (by depending on the other, or for some other reason), knowledge is lacking.

Metaphysics

Occasional Philosophy has an interesting re-imagining of Tegmark’s Quantum Suicide thought experiment, which traditionally limits hypothetical conclusions to the experimenter only. Instead, the author proposes the Quantum Homicide thought experiment, which allegedly allows outside observers to draw conclusions about many-worlds vs. Copenhagen interpretations of quantum mechanics. A snippet of the proposed tweak:

The Quantum Homicide thought experiment proposes a modification to the gun used in the experiment. In this case, if the particle is measured as spin up then the gun fires and kills the experimenter, just as before (in fact, the killing of the experimenter isn’t necessary for the experiment to work but I prefer the aesthetics of the continuity between the quantum suicide and quantum homicide cases). On the other hand, if the particle is measured as spin down then the gun fires a time travel ray, sending the experimenter one day into the past.

Noah Greenstein, the eponymous curator of Blog of Noah Greenstein, discusses the role emotional states play in hindering our reasoning. Based on this, he introduces the Future Rationality Cone, which attempts to include emotion and thought in predicting the relative rationality of future beliefs by way of their distance, as it were, from other beliefs:

Considering a person’s consciousness at some point, we can map what we consider rational and irrational based upon the potential mood and thought changes. Any possible future belief (a combination of thought and mood) will be a combination of changes in prior moods and thoughts. Beliefs that require too great a change in both thought or mood may be outside the realm of rationality for a person, while beliefs that require little effort will fall within the realm of rationality. Hence, the rationality cone.

Lewis from the group blog The Mod Squad tackles Leibniz’s views on the worth of “blind thought” i.e. cognition concerning signifiers absent an apparent regard for the signified, offering up a contrast between Locke, Berkeley, and Hume concerning blind thought:

This discussion, in which Leibniz first introduces blind thought, occurs in the midst of Leibniz’s commentary on Locke’s views on power and freedom. Specifically, it appears that Leibniz introduces the notion in response to Locke’s view that the main determinant of the will is not the prospect of a greater good, but instead, some strong present unease…As suggested by the initial illustration of algebraic reasoning, Leibniz’s stance on blind thought is not that it is always problematic. In a later discussion, relating to the purpose and origins of language, Leibniz suggests that blind thought can be of great utility.

Ethics

Switching gears ever so slightly, Greg at Cognitive Philosophy expounds on the potential threat to ethics posed by genetic modification (given a biologically contingent definition of ethics).

Changing the types of biological organisms that we are could conceivably change what is or is not right to do in any particular situation. It might change the very people that we should be striving to be. Yes, it’s unlikely we’ll change ourselves to the point where harming others is a good thing (though not impossible), but to what degree our systems of ethics will have to change is not something we can predict in advance. Now, let me be clear. I’m not making the naturalistic fallacy (or at least I’m not trying to). My point is that facts about our biology and psychology are going to *constrain* our ethical theories, not wholly *determine* them. Ethics is tricky business. Philosophers have been arguing about it for thousands of years, and while we all have some intuitive notions of what is good and what is bad, what is right and what is wrong, we’re certainly not anywhere close to having all the answers. Changing who we are as human beings will cause us to have to rethink some problematic notions.

Richard from Philosophy, et cetera discusses what he views as major lacunas in a recent argument against immigration that attempts to use environmental concerns to justify its position. He argues that general increases in human welfare outweigh any alleged damage to American wages, and similarly that if anything, mass immigration highlights rather than hides fundamental issues in countries facing an exodus:

Stepping back: If we want to get the most welfare “bang” for our ecological “buck”, barring the global poor access to economic opportunities is surely not the way to go. (It’s less extreme than outright killing them, but I think ultimately misguided for fundamentally similar reasons.) We should strive for improved efficiency in less humanly damaging ways: emissions taxes, reduced animal (esp. cattle) farming, increased urban density / efficient transit, etc. Not to mention investing in scientific research to uncover new solutions — investments which are more easily made by a wealthier, better educated populace.

Assorted Topics: Logic, and our lack of Kants

On the Logic side of philosophy, Tristan at Sprachlogic serves up a new notation for propositional modal operators. He seeks to answer the following by way of introducing a new notational method:

It is common to see the following list of four modal operators presented, sometimes as though it were exhaustive: possibility, necessity, contingency and impossibility. But reflect again that, of these four modalities, possibility is an odd one out, since it is non-commital on truth-value. Also, note that systems have been developed where other operators, e.g. one for non-contingency, are taken as primitive. This can give rise to an uneasy, lost feeling. Are the usual four modal operators just a hodge-podge? What modal operators are there (could there be)? Is there a systematic way of producing them all? And is there then a systematic way of determining logical relations between them?

Concerning philosophers themselves, Eric at Splintered Mind discusses the charge that specialization in contemporary philosophy signals the demise of interdisciplinary giants, using Kant as an example. An excerpt:

Consider by century: It seems plausible that no philosopher of at least the past 60 years has achieved the kind of huge, broad impact of Locke, Hume, or Kant. Lewis, Quine, Rawls, and Foucault had huge impacts in clusters of areas but not across as broad a range of areas. Others like McDowell and Rorty have had substantial impact in a broad range of areas but not impact of near-Kantian magnitude. Going back another several decades we get perhaps some near misses, including Wittgenstein, Russell, Heidegger, and Nietzsche, who worked ambitiously in a wide range of areas but whose impact across that range was uneven. Going back two centuries brings in Hegel, Mill, Marx, and Comte about whom historical judgment seems to be highly spatiotemporally variable. In contrast, Locke, Hume, and Kant span a bit over a century between them. But still, three within about hundred years followed by a 200 year break with some near misses isn’t really anomalous if we’re comparing a peak against an ordinary run.

Philosophy News

-I regret to say that Common Sense Atheism is closing its digital doors, as it were. The site will remain as an archive, and the site’s author, Luke Muehlhauser, will be continuing his work in the area of artificial intelligence.

-Peter Ludlow discusses the implications of a hypothetical dissolution of the APA, courtesy of the Leiter Report.

-Gary Gutting, frequent contributor to the New York Times, discusses the purpose of philosophy in our current climate. I highlight this Stone article in particular because I don’t imagine there is a single reader who has not had to brave such questioning!

-Neal Tognazzini at Flickers of Freedom celebrates the 50^th anniversary of P.F. Strawson’s Freedom and Resentment. The College of William & Mary will be hosting a two-day conference examining themes across his work.

-Daniel Dennett has been awarded the Erasmus Prize 2012. The 2012 award celebrates those who have promoted “the cultural meaning of the natural sciences.”

-Matthew Mullins at Prosblogion posts on the John Templeton Foundation’s open online submission cycle for funding inquiries. The areas of focus are philosophy and theology.

In Primates and Philosophers, Frans de Waal writes:

Social contract theory, and Western civilization with it, seems saturated with the assumption that we are asocial, even nasty creatures rather than the zoon politikon that Aristotle saw in us. Hobbes explicitly rejected the Aristotelian view by proposing that our ancestors started out autonomous and combative, establishing community life only when the cost of strife became unbearable. According to Hobbes, social life never came naturally to us. He saw it as a step we took reluctantly and ‘by covenant only, which is artificial.’ More recently, Rawls proposed a milder version of the same view, adding that humanity’s move toward sociality hinged on conditions of fairness, that is, the prospect of mutually advantageous cooperation among equals.

These ideas about the origin of the well-ordered society remain popular even though the underlying assumption of a rational decision by inherently asocial creatures is untenable in light of what we know about the volution of our species. Hobbes and Ralws create the illusion of human society as a voluntary arrangemwnt with self-imposed rules assented to by free and equal agents. Yet, there never was a point at which we became social: descended from highly social ancestors – a long line of monkeys and apes –we have been group-living forever. Free and equal people never existed. Humans started out – if a starting point is discernible at all – as interdependent, bonded, and unequal. We come from a long lineage of hierarchical animals for which life in groups is not an option but a survival strategy. Any zoologist would classify our species as obligatorily gregarious.

This passage very nearly opens de Waal’s piece “Morally Evolved” in Primates and Philosophers, and serves more as a stepping stone toward a discussion of morality rooted in social behaviors than it does a fully fleshed out critique of modern social contract theory. That being said, this passage gave me great pause as I read; how could it be that evolutionary theory is so at odds with social contract theory, when both so heavily pervade our scientific and political frameworks? Special thanks to Aaron Kenna for lending his expertise and his ideas in this pithy guest post. Enjoy!

The history of social contract theory shows a remarkable story of success: the very foundations of western liberal democracies rest upon the contractarian ideas of Grotius, Hobbes, Locke, and Rousseau. Social contract theory, however, often meets with the criticism that it somehow fails to account for the essential social nature of humans. Take, for example, Frans de Waal. In Primates and Philosophers: How Morality Evolved, de Waal claims that social contract theory is ‘saturated with the assumption that we are asocial, even nasty creatures rather than the zoon politikon that Aristotle saw in us’ (de Waal p 3)[1]. Hobbes, the paradigmatic contractarian, in particular is criticized by de Waal for supposedly asserting in his state of nature analysis that humans historically rarely maintained social ties until the individuals costs of social non-cooperation made asocial behavior unattractive.

However, Hobbes never intended that his state of nature analysis be taken as an historical description of mankind, and asserts as much explicitly in Leviathan chapter 13, paragraph 11. Moreover, through his criticism of Hobbes de Waal ipso facto conflates the political with the social.  That is, Hobbes argues that political arrangements qua political arrangements are artifices (more on this below), but he recognizes the social nature of humans. Throughout the Leviathan, but in particular chapters 11 – 13, Hobbes identifies the primary causes of conflict in the absence of a civil authority:  “So that in the nature of man, we find three principall causes of quarrel. First, Competition; Secondly, Diffidence; Thirdly, Glory” (L 13.6). If, as de Waal contends, Hobbes intended to proffer an asocial account of human nature, why did Hobbes identify glory as a primary motivating factor of conflict? It is meaningful to seek glory amongst your fellows only if one is firmly placed within a context which conduces to the development of such desires, viz., a social context.

For Hobbes (and more so for Grotius, Locke, and Rousseau) any political arrangement is a construction of our own creation, but social relations are not. Certainly this is true, now more than ever: nation-states rise and fall, are reformed, borders redrawn, and individuals migrate, but yet people do not cease to maintain social relations. Hobbes nowhere denies this; rather, he argues that social relations would lead to significantly less happiness if there were no constraints on individual action. One ought not to criticize social contract theory unless one understands social contract theory, and de Waal reveals a profound ignorance concerning social contract theory in general, and Hobbes’ work in particular.  To be sure, there are legitimate criticisms to be made against both social contract theory and the work of Hobbes, but de Waal has not made any.

-Aaron Kenna.

On the eve of the 10^th anniversary of the terrorist attacks against the United States on September 11^th, I would like to write this review in memoriam of the lives lost, both in that attack and the subsequent series of ongoing wars fought in the name of religion as well as  alleged political freedom.  I hope someday our world will better reflect the measured voices of reason over those of the extreme and the depraved, and that tragedies of this scope will cease to be perpetuated by states and individuals alike. I heartily believe the first step in fashioning such a change is to address, head on, the challenge that religious fundamentalism poses to rationality and peaceful human relations.

Birthed from that very same tragedy, the foundational research of J. Anderson Thomson’s Why We Believe in God(s): A Concise Guide to the Science of Faith sought to answer a fundamental and important question in the wake of this national tragedy: what drives those inclined to suicide terrorism? The resulting research lead to a series of lectures in 2009 that has since been published thanks in part to funding from the Richard Dawkins Foundation for Reason and Science. The product is a 144-page primer on the scientific underpinning for why we are inclined to believe in the unseen, and how evolutionary mechanisms promote religiosity in the same way evolutionary mechanisms promote our addiction to fast food.

Though the introduction and first chapter might lead the reader to believe that all religious beliefs stand accused, the chapter titles (gems such as Our Daily Bread: Craving a Caretaker), general tone, and outright admission by Thomson reveal the target of this missive to be the Judeo-Christian conception of God. This is slightly curious, given that Islamic extremism launched the basis of the book yet is rarely mentioned outside of the introduction. Each chapter is tight, concisely written and unflinching – chapter 4 is barely three full pages. Yet this very same admirable quality that allows the book to be consumed in an hour is also its downfall; the clear research upon which it is based takes a backseat to readability. More academically inclined readers will likely find themselves combing the Notes section for more on the fascinating studies and articles that are not even footnoted in the main text. A veritable treasure trove, these notes are shamefully secluded in the back of what could have easily been a book two or three times its published length.

That being said, this book is perfect for what it is: an introduction. Its manageable size makes it the perfect gift for dilettantes only tentatively interested in science or faith, and a good doorway for amateur and established philosophers alike who are just entering the fray. And yet for all of the cutting language and unabashed affirmation that religion is all in our heads, Why We Believe in God(s) is no mere tract against the Religious Right. Thomson highlights many non-religious facets of humanity, such as secular ritual, that stem from the very same evolutionary mechanisms as their religious counterparts. Further, Thomson does not deny the usefulness some of these evolutionary by-products (such as the perceived agency mentioned here) may serve even in the modern world. He only establishes for us that regardless of its current role, the genesis of religion lies in our development as a species and not in one revelation or another.

“Humans are strongly biased to interpret unclear evidence as being caused consciously by an agent, almost always a humanlike agent. This cognitive ability to attribute agency to abstract sights or sounds may have helped our distant ancestors survive, allowing them to detect and evade enemies. It kept them alert, attentive toward possible danger. Better to jump at shadows than risk something or someone jumping at you.

…

This ability was adaptive, so therefore it is natural for us to assume the presence of unseen beings and to believe that such beings can influence our lives. It is equally natual to assume that such a being, if asked, can alter or affect what happens to us. Asking easily becomes praying…As social beings with these adaptations, we are now set up for belief in a divine attachment figure. We can attribute agency to it, transfer some of our early-life emotions to it, and as a result can believe that such a being desires to interact with us.”

-From Why We Believe in Gods: A Concise Guide to the Science of Faith.

A full review of this great book can be found here.

As promised, though much later than intended, this post represents Part I in a series concerning presuppositional apologetics as employed by Christian theologians. In this installment I shall focus on the claim made by John M. Frame in his book Apologetics to the Glory of God* that the basic reasoning behind the presuppositional approach is not a circular argument and is a valid argumentation form. By way of this treatment I shall also introduce why Frame and other such apologists believe this form of argumentation appears illogical to non-Christians.

What is ‘Apologetics’?  

According to Frame, one of the leading Calvinist theologians, apologetics of any type focuses primarily on one of three approaches: proof, defense, and offense, though any complete apologetics will include all three. In the first, the defender of faith attempts to offer proof in support of her position which might persuade the interlocutor to concede a key point or accept a theory on faith altogether. In the second, the defender of faith seeks merely to provide a reasoned account for why she is justified, through reason or faith, in holding a given position or belief. Finally, a defender of faith assuming an offensive approach attempts to actively discredit contrary evidence in order to strengthen the case for the given claim.[1]

Regardless of the approach, it is important to note that Frame views the purpose of apologetics as twofold; to at once offer a public recognition of Christ as the son of God and the Christian faith, as well as to offer “a reason for [Christian] hope.”[2] What I would like to discuss here is one of the prominent theories, especially among Presbyterian forms of Christianity, viz. ‘Presuppositional Apologetics.’ This form of apologetics has gained notoriety after the debates between Christopher Hitchens and Douglas Wilson were published and also featured in the film Collision: Hitchens vs. Wilson.

Presuppositional Apologetics

Presuppositionalism might best be described as biting the apologetics bullet. In this form of apologetics, the defender attempts to ‘even the playing field’ by way of bypassing arguments stemming from literary/textual criticism, logical issues in theology, or questions of evidentiary or historical nature. This is accomplished in a two-fold manner. First, as the name entails, the apologist uses Scripture as the measure by which all evidences and arguments must be evaluated, even (and especially, it seems) at the cost of sound argumentation and cogent lines of reasoning. Frame, and by extension any presuppositionalist, claims that all philosophies presuppose the primacy of one element or another, be it reason or existential experience, etc. This is the second means by which presuppositional apologetics seeks to undercut common methods of rational discourse, i.e. by alleging that even a rationalist is presupposing some measure or another. This would not necessarily be problematic, except that it is assumed all presuppositions are inherently equal in their epistemological or evaluator weight:

“Every philosophy must use its own standards in proving its conclusions; otherwise, it is simply inconsistent. Those who believe that human reason is the ultimate authority (rationalists) must presuppose the authority of reason in their arguments for rationalism. Those who believe in the ultimacy of sense experience must presuppose it in arguing for their philosophy (empiricism)…The point is that when one is arguing for an ultimate criterion, whether Scripture, the Koran, human reason, sensation, or whatever, one must use criteria compatible with that conclusion. If that is circularity, then everybody is guilty of circularity.”[3]

Frame seeks to claim that any philosophical approach creates for itself standards by which it can then compare all considerations and premises. This form of apologetics seeks to argue that Christians are just as justified in claiming Scripture as the measure by which any claims may be justified and any premises evaluated. Before I explain why this is intellectual sleight of hand of the subtlest degree, it is worth examining the line of reasoning Frame utilizes to come to the conclusion that the Bible commands Christians to presuppose its truth (though even a few passing theological encounters should confirm for any philosopher that Christians rarely require an answer any more developed than a passage claiming to be the word of God.) I reproduce it here in its entirety in order to demonstrate the stretch that is required:

“’Lord’ in Scripture refers to the head of a covenant relationship. In that relationship, the Lord dictates to his covenant servants the way they are to live and promises them blessings for obedience and curses for disobedience. He also tells them of the blessings that he has already given to them – his ‘unmerited favor,’ or grace , which is to motivate their obedience. Without words of grace, law, and promise, there is no lordship. To recognize the Lord is to believe and obey his words above the words of anyone else. And to obey the Lord’s words in that way is to accept them as one’s ultimate presuppositions.”[4]

So, believing the Scripture to command that it must be treated as the ultimate presupposition, Frame contends that Christians are just as justified (if not infinitely more so) in accepting Scripture as a presupposition as any other philosophical system is in setting its own criteria for evaluation. In one sense, Frame is correct. As Richard Taylor once wrote, we must always start somewhere, even if we are to later return and revise the foundation of our inquiry. And certainly the creation of any new philosophical approach entails a re-imagining or reworking of the way we traditionally consider the world and evaluate our data. Regardless, presupposing the truth of Scripture is far different from presupposing the primacy of an evaluative tool. This is because reason and empiricism, to use Frame’s examples, are methods of evaluation – we utilize the spirit of these methods to evaluate premises. For example, in a rationalist approach, if a conclusion does not follow from its premises then the argument is fallacious. If, in an empiricist approach, we cannot experience a phenomenon, it cannot be confirmed. Rationalism and Empiricism are methodologies, whereas Scripture is not; it is itself a set of premises. What Frame has done, in the contortioned passage quoted above, is stretch the premises of the Bible to resemble a sort of methodology rather than series of claims.

Furthermore, even if we do treat Scripture as a methodology, it is certainly not a properly basic one. To use the Law of Identity as an example, A = A can be seen to be properly basic in that the world and its contents would quite literally be meaningless if it were not true. Rationalism goes so far as to posit that this law must be true in all possible worlds – for who can imagine a world in which objects are not what they are? Presuppositionalism makes use of such logical laws but only after creating a barrier which they cannot transgress, and so such a presupposition depends upon other presuppositions to function. Conversely, it is quite easy to conceive of a world in which Scripture is not true, and, further, doing so does not result in logical contradictions or absurdities. Additionally, Frame also makes use of logical and reasoning to confirm Christianity or other arguments but only after he has presupposed the truth of Scripture, which again is a premise and not a methodology. So, in short, Frame is merely claiming the truth of a premise and ignoring its irrationality or circular argumentation. Defending against the claim that a world can be imagined in which God does not exist, Cornelius Van Til originated what is known as the Transcendental Argument for the existence of God.

Van Til and the Transcendental Argument: God as Ground

On the one hand, the defender attempts to demonstrate that the existence of God is logically necessary for an atheistic as well as theistic worldview. On the other, the defender builds upon the alleged logical necessity of God by claiming that any argument not stemming from divine revelation is therefore not a valid argument, since it attempts to argue against God by excluding Him from His own created system, i.e. the world, the Bible, natural law, etc. Cornelius Van Til calls this phenomenon “borrowed capital” since the non-believer is allegedly using the knowledge of causality or reason, given to her by God, to argue against the existence of God.[5] Now, prima facie this move may appear sound; for, if a defender can demonstrate that God is logically necessary for any rational worldview, then this opens the door to then argue for the validity of scripture.

However, a cursory examination of this approach shows these are two very different and ultimately unrelated claims, since philosophical arguments for the existence of God most often stem from the use of logic and rational reasoning, whereas any (non-circular) argument for or against the validity of scripture must necessarily address textual criticism concerns, logical problems, and evidentiary attacks. So, while it might be the case that God is logically necessary, this necessity offers no support for or against the truth of any scripture over and above that which confirms any qualities which must necessarily be attributed to God.

It is certainly worth noting that Frame does not accept Van Til’s Transcendental Argument because, while he agrees with the premise, the argument requires the use of additional arguments i.e. teleological, etc. to be sufficiently persuasive.[6] It is puzzling that Frame at once recognizes that Van Til is merely postulating the truth of a premise without an argument despite having done so himself. Skipping the reiterations by Frame that all human beings are born with a knowledge of God’s existence and that creation also serves to demonstrate God’s existence (for, undefended, these are baseless claims),  Frame does offer an explanation for why the circular reasoning of Presuppositional Apologetics lacks persuasive force for non-Christians.

Noetic Effects of Sin

Based on a theoretical concept popularized by Cornelius Van Til, the ‘noetic effect of sin’ is an attempt to explain or justify why non-Christians are unswayed by arguments based on Scripture and deny God’s existence. In short, the noetic effect of sin is a degradation or erosion of the cognitive powers of nonbelievers due to being born in sin or living in sin. By this account, reason, logic, and understanding all suffer in the non-believer, and the only hope of restoration lies in affirming Scripture and Jesus as Christ. Frame also subscribes to this theory. In one passage, Frame writes, “When sinners try to gain knowledge without the fear of the Lord, that knowledge is distorted (Rom. 1:21-25; 1 Cor. 1:18-2:5). This is not to say that every sentence they utter is false. It is to say that their basic worldview is twisted and unreliable. Their most serious epistemological mistake is, typically, to assert their own autonomy: to make themselves, or something other than the biblical God, the final standard of truth and right. So rationalistic philosophy declares human reason to be the final standard.”[7]

And in yet another passage, Frame claims that the noetic effect of sin is so great that nonbelievers (those who suppress their knowledge of God’s existence) are, in fact, irrational: “One might note that this process of suppression is not rational, therefore nonbelievers do not fall under the definition of ‘rational persons’ in the proposed definition of proof. Then that definition is of no apologetic significance. For the whole point of apologetics is to present the truth to unbelievers. The question, then becomes: How should we present the truth to nonrational persons? What constitutes a proof in the apologetics situation?”[8] I will write that out again for disbelieving readers – Frame claims that it is irrational for rationalists to ‘presuppose’ rationality as the ultimate means of evaluation. As mentioned earlier, the contributing factors to this position are that of (1) the supremacy of the Scripture as a ground for all knowledge and (2) the inherent knowledge all human beings possesses regarding the existence and nature of the Judeo-Christian God.

A Circle’s a Circle, No Matter How Small

All of this notwithstanding, Frame seemingly admits that his argument is circular and attempts to mitigate this by differentiating between narrowly and broadly circular arguments. A narrowly circular argument is, to use Frame’s example, “The Bible is the Word of God because it is the Word of God.” Frame goes on to say regarding this argument that, “There is a profound truth vividly displayed in this narrow argument, namely that there is no higher authority than Scripture by which Scripture may be judged.”[9] So, Frame believes such arguments are valid because they speak to a truth about the world (despite being invalid tautologies).

Recognizing that such arguments hold almost zero persuasive force outside of the isolated Christian community, Frame suggests utilizing a more broadly (but still) circular argument: “We may overcome those disadvantages to some extent by moving to a broader circular argument. That broader circular argument says, ‘The Bible is the Word of God because of various evidences,’ and then it specifies those evidences. Now the argument is still circular in a sense, because the apologist chooses, evaluates, and formulates these evidences in ways controlled by Scripture.”[10] And so there we have it.

While Frame and other presuppositional apologists are correct in pointing out that any philosophical system must necessarily utilize some methodology as a means of evaluation, they are grossly mistaken in believing that Scripture stands on equal footing with rationalism et al as a viable and valid methodology. For, upon even a cursory examination, it can be seen that Scripture is nothing more than an aggregation of premises that demand to precede logic, but then attempt to utilize its very laws after the fact. In this way, I agree with Frame that his argumentation is both narrowly and broadly circular, but I believe it is far more questionable as to whether such assertions hold up against more rigorous and basic philosophical methodologies the way he claims.

*In a weak but well-meaning attempt to stymie the flow of potential plagiarizers, I have opted not to include full bibliographical citation in this post. If you would like this information, please feel free to e-mail me or request it in the comment section below and I will contact you.

I thought some lighter fare might be in order, and so I bring you Allan Bloom’s view of Mick Jagger from The Closing of the American Mind, circa 1986:

“In the last couple of years, Jagger has begun to fade. whether Michael Jackson, Prince or Boy George can take his place is uncertain. They are even weirder than he is, and one wonders what new strata of taste they have discovered. Although each differs from the others, the essential character of musical entertainment is not changing. There is only a constant search for variations on the theme. And this gutter phenomenon is apparently the fulfillment of the promise made by so much psychology and literature that our weak and exhausted Western civiliation would find refreshment in the true source, the unconscious, which appeared to the late romantic imagination to be idential to Africa, the dark and unexplored continent. Now all has been explored; light has been cast everywhere; the unconscious has been made conscious the repressed expressed. And what have we found? Not creative devils, but show business glitz. Mick Jagger tarting it up on the stage is all that we brought back from the voyage to the underworld.”

While searching for a specific blog post written by Sam Harris, I stumbled across a blog posting at Simple Apologetics (my first visit) that critiqued Harris’ views on determinism, freedom, and moral responsibility. Normally  I would not bother responding to a blog to which I am not a regular reader or subscriber, except for the fact that so much of its content embodies some of the most common (and fundamental) misunderstandings regarding determinism and its implications. I believe it is misunderstandings such as these that contribute to an overall confusion regarding the realities of a deterministic worldview and a mischaracterization of those who affirm this worldview. To that end, I should like to offer responses to the five criticisms the author levels against determinism and its implications at large. Hopefully this will paint a clearer picture of what determinism is not.

(1) Affirming determinism requires that one affirm the fixity of all aspects of the universe, and so this results in an absurdity wherein determinists appear to endeavor to change their circumstances (or in this case, Sam Harris endeavors to persuade others of his position) even though the universe is allegedly fixed.

I would say that (1) is far and away the most widely spread and tragically sophomoric reading of determinism among laypersons. Though the author claims it is a minor point,  it factors quite heavily into understanding determinist theory. To quote the author,

Sam Harris says that he cannot change his own mind. He also says that no one else has the free will to change their minds. So why does he go to such great lengths to change our minds? On the one hand, he says that no one can change their minds, but on the other, he acts as if people could choose to change their minds. This is a subtle indication that it is impossible to really live as if determinism is true.

Those who follow this line of reasoning conflate the fixity of the universe with a coercive and confusingly noncausal view of the universe. So, the author believes that if minds cannot be changed, and the universe is fixed, then Sam Harris or any other determinist is not warranted in continuing to act in ways that seek to change his environment. This view fails to factor in a fundamental and necessary element of determinism, viz. that the state of the universe at any given moment contributes to the state of the universe in the very next moment by way of a set of causal relationships. So, simply because Sam Harris cannot alter his physiology or change his mind in some way required by an agent-causal system does not mean he cannot participate in the causal chains which might results in another person being persuaded by a certain argument, etc. To claim that the state of the universe at any given moment is fixed regardless of the behavior of the objects which populate it would be a noncausal view of the universe, since the objects in that universe seemingly maintain no causal relationship with one another.

On a broader scale, the author also misunderstands what Harris and other determinists mean when they say that a person cannot change her mind. So, when I say that my choice between apple pie and pumpkin pie is determined, what I mean to say is that whatever choice I end up making is the choice I was going to make, ceteris paribus. Had a detail of the universe prior to that moment been other than it was, my decision might have been different. This in no ways means that I do not feel as though I deliberate at the moment of decision, or that I cannot decide I want apple pie but change my mind when I get to the counter – all it means is that, by virtue of the very nature of causality, I cannot ever act in a manner other than how I would act if the state of the universe remained the same. Had the state of the universe been different, I might have decided differently, since the causal chain leading up to my decision was altered. I will leave it up for debate as to whether a determinist can, in good faith, claim that this universe is not the only possible set of outcomes.

(2) Determinative factors, whether neurological or societal, are coercive to the point that if one affirms neurological determinism, one must also grant that one’s political situation, oppressed or ‘free’, matters very little, since one already lacks freedom of the will.

This approach conflates determinative elements with coercive elements. It can very easily be the case that I could not have done other than I have done, but that I am not being physically or emotionally coerced. So, if I act in accordance with my biology and psychology, despite my actions and choices being determined, I have not been ‘coerced’, since I may seemingly act according to my desires, etc. However, if I am in a political climate wherein my behavior is curtailed or I am abused, this is a coercive restriction and not just a determinative one.  So while in instances of neurological determinism I can act in a determined way and still do so in accordance with my drives and motivations, a coercive political structure would prevent me from acting in accordance with those desires and drives. To digress for a moment, state coercion is not necessarily a negative element (keep reading, Libertarians!) since most would agree that it might be reasonable for the state to use coercion in order to prevent pedophiles and rapists from enacting their drives and desires, though this is a discussion for another time.

In addition to the above point, there is also the very reasonable argument that regardless of metaphysical freedom, it is still preferrable for citizens to have a peaceful and participatory relationship with their government. I fail to see how, given the distinction between coercion and determination, this could be argued against.

(3) If our persons and our decisions are all determined, then it is pointless to attempt to change anything at all, including the behavior of others. Thus, we have no option but to despair if we adopt a deterministic outlook.

A variation on (1), this argument also fails to factor in the causal role our decisions play regardless of if they are determined or not. It also conflates, as (1) does, the fixity of the universe with the meaninglessness of attempting to alter the world around us. The way this argument is phrased makes it appear the author means that, regardless of if I choose A or B, the outcome will still be C, though I suspect what the author truly means is that regardless of what I do, I am destined to choose B and thus stuck with the outcome of C. With this knowledge, how can I help but be depressed?

Again, though, the author fails to account for the fact that, except in instances of coercion, even if our actions are determined they are still our actions. If I decide to purchase a turkey sandwich instead of a ham sandwich, just because I would not have purchases a ham sandwich unless the situation had somehow differed, why should I despair? The choice is still in accordance with my preferences, and I am not being made to act other than I wish to act – all the author seems to be concerned about is an unrealistic standard for agent-causal freedom that allows persons to remain unswayed by any factors and yet still make decisions and cause events. As may be clear from some of my previous posts, I disagree strongly with this ‘requirement’ for meaning.

(4) If moral responsibility requires that a decision be made under a person’s own power in order for her to be responsible for it, and determinism concludes that no choice she makes is ever up to her, then all talk of morality is pointless.

Here it might be convenient to quote the author in order to see what is going on:

Once Sam Harris denies that we are “answerable or accountable, as for something within one’s own power, control, or management,” which is a standard definition (e.g., dictionary.reference.com) for “responsibility,” then any talk of “morality” does become empty and hollow. Again, his view is that human actionsare determined by “neuronal weather.” So none of our actions or thoughts are under our control. Therefore, it still makes good sense to say that Sam Harris’s position means that all talk about morality is completely illusory.

First, it is slightly problematic to use the definition provided here, since it concerns power and control. I do not believe many determinists would deny that, at any given moment (unless we are being coerced or there are other mitigating factors), most persons are under control of their behavior in that most actions are in accordance with a thought process and are rationalized (even if only after the fact.) A better approach would be to use the Principle of Alternate Possibility, which states that I am only morally responsible for my actions if I could have done otherwise. This, of course, condemns determinism to a lack of moral responsibility since I can seemingly never do other than I could do. I am, of course, sympathetic to this approach, given that elsewhere I discuss how I do not believe Harry Frankfurt’s revised PAP quite does the job required of it. I am not sure of how I feel about moral responsibility versus moral judgement, though the article linked to in the last sentence gives an introduction to my thoughts about it thus far. So, other than the example, (4) is relatively innocuous.

(5) Sam Harris relegates moral responsibility to being capable of being held accountable for those actions in accordance with my desires, feelings, etc. But since none of these are under my control, how can I be held accountable for them? Also, this view seems to run contrary to the common view of responsibility, etc.

In this point, the author once again reiterates that if determinism is true, none of our thoughts or feelings are under our control, which I discuss above as not necessarily being the case. That being said, I would challenge anyone reading to consider how exactly they experience the onset of a thought, or remembering some event or fact. I think those who believe we control our every thought and desire will be surprised when they consider that, if I cannot remember a certain person’s name, I am incapable of remembering it until my brain accesses that portion of my memory. You cannot force yourself to remember someone’s name – it either comes to you instantly, or it comes to you later, or never. Similarly, I never choose to have the desire for pizza – I simply have  the desire to eat pizza and then choose to satiate it or not. This is an important distinction, because it points to what I believe is an antiquated view of persons as passengers in the body, capable of controlling nearly every element but somehow existing as something more than the physiological parts. This view is not in keeping with modern advances in neuroscience, nor is it a particularly easy  metaphysical approach to defend.

I mean no disrespect to the author of the post to which I am replying. However, I do think it exemplifies a number of misconceptions that ultimately contribute to an unfair rejection of determinism. While the author and others may yet still disagree with the points listed here, I hope that my responses can shed some light on the true nature of a deterministic worldview so that it may be properly considered.

**2/4/12: Updated the hyperlink above to reflect the new domain, www.reasonsforgod.org**

Niccolo Machiavelli and Friedrich Nietzsche are perhaps two of the most historically vilified figures in moral and ethical literature.  Indeed, Machiavelli’s ideas were so controversial that in 1559 all of his writings were banned in Italy until the 19^th century.[1]  Similarly, it has been alleged that Nietzsche advances the thesis that immorality in general is admirable.[2] In this essay I shall endeavor to compare and contrast these two titans of ‘immorality’ in an attempt to show that, rather than advancing simple immorality or amorality, Machiavelli and Nietzsche praise a sort of ‘supramorality’ which aims above the traditional limits of morality to attain a higher goal. I shall begin first by briefly providing textual support for the claim that both Nietzsche and Machiavelli seek to investigate and dissect the moralities of their day. From there I shall demonstrate how each author places the power of overcoming present-day morality in the hands of an individual of almost mythical proportions. Finally I shall discuss the differing aims between Machiavelli’s uniting Prince and Nietzsche’s Free Spirit and how each of these aims ties into the concept of a ‘supramorality.’

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