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Swallowing Camels with Peter Robinson
Uncommon Knowledge is a terrific show and I rarely miss it. This post is in response to the February 1st episode By Design: Behe, Lennox, and Meyer On The Evidence For A Creator.
Peter ended the interview by asking why these men have been rejected by the scientific community. I’d like to offer an answer that his guests will not, but that I think is close to the truth.
Science didn’t leave these men. These men left science.
I don’t say that lightly. Over the last couple of years we have witnessed “The Science” abused by erstwhile Men of Science to exclude those who hold marginal or unapproved views. My respect and my sympathy is with those who dare to challenge the orthodoxy — regarding public health, regarding climate, regarding energy, etc. — with information and with reason and with an open mind.
But this isn’t that. This isn’t the story of a handful of Davids taking on the Goliath of establishment belief armed with nothing but better ideas and greater intellectual honesty.
Peter is not himself a man of science, as he’s quick to admit (and as anyone who’s ever heard his comments regarding space exploration will already know). Peter’s guests, in contrast, have impressive credentials, and are charming, intelligent, and eloquent men. What they are not, alas, is men of science in the deep sense. Science is an exercise in humility and self-restraint. Those who practice it necessarily subscribe to an ethos, a framework of discourse, and a set of standards. These gentlemen have rejected that framework and the intellectual self-restraint that it implies. And they have stopped practicing science. Or, which seems less likely given their obvious intelligence, they have simply begun practicing it incompetently.
I’ve written on this topic before and I so I’ll keep this relatively brief.
The core of the argument these men make is that the universe and life within it is simply too improbable to have occurred without divine intervention.
They could make a different argument. They could argue that we don’t currently know of any mechanism by which the universe and life in it might have occurred, and that we can’t rule out divine intervention. They could also add that they personally are predisposed toward that explanation, but that it isn’t one they reach by way of science. That would be fair, and I’d respect that.
But what they can’t do while remaining both true to science and competent in its conduct is make this argument:
The evidence available to us suggests that divine intervention is the most plausible scientific explanation for the existence of the universe and the life in it.
That is the argument they’re making, and the flaws in that argument are sufficient justification to challenge their standing as men of science.
The problem is that divine intervention — what Meyer calls “The God Hypothesis” — isn’t explanatory. It’s like answering the question, “how does that rocket work” with the answer, “Elon Musk built it.”
Left unanswered is the question of “how.” (And I tip my hat to Peter for asking that question late in the interview, at about the 55-minute mark. No answer was forthcoming.)
The God hypothesis doesn’t tell us how God created the universe or life in it. One could as readily say that Elon Musk created the universe; at least we have some concrete evidence that Elon Musk exists. But neither claim has explanatory power. By what mechanism did the creator instantiate the universe? By what mechanism did that creator manipulate it to bring about life and intelligence?
Lacking explanatory power is only half the problem. The God hypothesis is fundamentally illogical.
Consider: Any being capable of creating the universe and of so comprehending its nature as to be able to direct it would, presumably, be at least as complicated as the universe itself. So how is it logical to simultaneously claim that the universe can’t just be the way it is while invoking the intervention of something even more improbably sophisticated and complex in order to explain it? What does that accomplish, other than to place the need to actually explain things — the need to “do science” — comfortably beyond reach?
And while it seems like a simplistic question, it really isn’t: Where did the creator come from? How does “always pre-existing” work, and why doesn’t that work to explain our own universe (which, again, is presumably less complicated than our creator would necessarily be)?
Occam’s Razor is not actually a scientific principle, merely a useful guide to how we think about and evaluate arguments. There’s nothing parsimonious to the God hypothesis. On the contrary, it asserts, under the guise of explaining, a new universe of laws, forces, actions, effects.
Invoking the God hypothesis to fill in the blanks in our understanding of the natural world is, truly, to strain at gnats while unquestioningly inviting far greater mysteries.
I think it would be great if Peter were to invite to his show two or three individuals who were respectful of the science and willing to engage the arguments brought up by this batch of guests. Not so-called “scientific atheists,” men who make the same leaps of faith as Behe and Meyer but in the opposite direction. Rather, it would be good to hear from people who approach both the science and the theology with respect and humility, who don’t declare the unknown to be unknowable, who don’t abandon rational materialism in favor of the supernatural when they run out of answers.
A closing thought and a pet peeve. Meyer continues to repeat the claim, as he did at about 51:45, that “We know from our uniform and repeated experience that information always arises from a mind.” He uses that claim to argue that instances of encoding encountered in nature must therefore also arise from a mind — have an intelligent designer.
This is a transparently circular argument. It is like declaring that everything that floats is a boat and the product of an intelligent creator, then noting that, since coconuts also float, they are clearly the product of an intelligent creator. Meyer wraps the idea in enough buzzwords to make it sound good, but it still doesn’t make sense.
Published in Science & Technology
It might be different if the story was presented by God Himself, rather than people and a book.
Yes. When the story is presented by human beings and books written by human beings, people tend to think they are being conned. If God presented it himself, he could convince everyone.
A parent who completely shielded his/her children from consequences would be a fool. The kid would grow up with no understanding that the world is a dangerous place. The best example I heard was: “Johnny, be careful the stove is hot.” Johnny won’t listen so after a while, you just turn the heat down a bit and say to your mate: “Get the ointment ready.”
But in the case of the parent, the parent doesn’t have the power to change the fact that the world is a dangerous place. Yet a good parent does try to make his/her household safe from danger. That’s why the father and mother might lock the doors at night.
A God, if the God we are talking about is all powerful (omnipotent), is capable of changing the fact that the world is a dangerous place.
An omnipotent God could immediately eliminate childhood cancer, for example.
Observing the fact that God doesn’t eliminate childhood cancer, one could reach a variety of conclusions, that God doesn’t exist, that God is cruel not morally good, that God isn’t all powerful, that God isn’t omniscient and perhaps God doesn’t know about childhood cancer.
Some of these ideas might seem more/less plausible than others.
It’s worth noting that there are a lot of “legitimate” justification for belief in the supernatural. We may experience a sense of the numinous. We may be awed by the universe and feel that it demands a creator. We may feel bereft of purpose absent a guiding intelligence. We may see beauty and feel the need to credit it to someone or something. We may look at the historical record and find it credible and compelling.
We just can’t use the rules of the natural sciences to reach a supernatural conclusion. The domains just don’t overlap.
To invoke G-d is to invoke a “perfect” explanation of arbitrary and subjective probability (albeit an explanation only in a superficial sense).
That doesn’t mean it’s the wrong explanation. It’s just one that can’t be reached by the uncorrupted application of the scientific process.
He has never spoken directly to me, and I believe He has some explaining to do if He exists, but the highlighted part above is the best explanation I’ve seen, though the abbreviated form is not as persuasive. It’s fine with me if you don’t find it at all convincing.
Unless it’s a Babel Fish kind of deal.
It is equally as bizarre as the Good G-d hypothesis to me. Just for reference.
Heavy, I recommend reading iWe’s posts regarding Torah whenever they arise. Just to get a sense of what is present in (and absent from) stories that we think we know.
One of the extraordinary things about the Hebrew scriptures (and the New Testament) is how much meaning the ancient authors packed into very brief texts. This—and not anyone’s affinity for a mean God—is why the Bible continues to be read and re-read.
That doesn’t mean you have to read and re-read it, only that you might be reassured to know that millions of Jews and Christians all over the world and throughout history weren’t just superstitious stupid dupes. And that it is not an accident that Western Civilization was constructed on the foundation of Athens AND Jerusalem.
I say this, while agreeing with Henry’s original post.
I think people are always coming up with very creative interpretations of various biblical passages.
Have you heard of Dr. Randal Rauser?
He has written a book titled, “Jesus Loves Canaanites,” arguing (implausibly in my view) that various books in the Old Testament don’t endorse the killing of infants and children and don’t endorse taking captured woman as sex slaves.
Also, when St. Paul says in Galatians chapter 5, verse 12, “I wish that those who unsettle you would castrate themselves,” we get a sense that the people who wrote the various books of the bible wrote a lot of bad stuff along with some good stuff.
If people could read the Bible with a critical eye, rather than a devotional eye, I think this would improve things for society.
“The attempt to reduce human experience and activity to a few simple principles is, if not eternal, at least age-old: as is its failure. The idealist philosopher F.H. Bradley famously defined metaphysics as “the finding of bad reasons for what we believe upon instinct”; but he not quite as famously added that “to find these reasons is no less an instinct”. In other words, we as self-conscious beings are tied to a task that is Sisyphean in form, if not in content, namely to find a theory of the universe and ourselves that explains everything, including how to conduct ourselves.” From the always helpful Theodore Dalyrymple
Or both.
Just to follow up on my last comment regarding Dr. Randal Rauser’s book, “Jesus Loves Canaanites.”
Here is a 5 star Amazon.com review of “Jesus Loves Canaanites.”
The reviews goes on. But that gives you a sense of the tension and debate over such verses in the Bible.
To be fair, this is still less a bind than operating from a premise that everything must arise from the irrational and unknowable. If this is mandated or even allowed, then neither logic nor knowledge can be applied to the problem, and we are back to simple faith. If you have faith and you like it, that may be great, but is utterly orthogonal to rational inquiry. There is no overlap.
Applying the strictures of logic to anything containing such a magical trapdoor does not support any claim as a “conclusion.”
I await our religious friends’ continued insistence that the sun revolves about the earth, and so forth. This is not petty sniping — this is the religiously enforced and demonstrably divine position prior to being knocked down by facts and logic.
I know what he’s talking about. You incorporate your conclusion as the foundation of a therefore unnecessary and meaningless series of “arguments”, then lecture people that you know what you’re talking about becaue you teach this stuff and write books.
L. Ron Hubbard taught and wrote, so that’s not dispositive.
That’s the circular reasoning fallacy. I don’t do that.
Who gives a rat’s hemorrhoid if I wrote books about Augustine? I cite the facts. I don’t cite my own authority, ever.
And then we would still only have the probability of the natural process side of things.
Free will is not a difficult concept, but it sure is difficult to shoehorn into the supposedly benign intent of an all-powerful other will, requiring much word salad.
Last year I engaged in several lengthy discussions with a few Catholics over libertarian free will (LFW) and compatibilist free will (CFW). Many proponents of LFW simply refer to LFW as “free will.”
The discussion would often start with one of the Catholics saying, “I can go to Taco Bell for dinner. I can go to Wendys for dinner. I can freely choose to do either.” And he would argue that this is consistent with LFW.
But I, as a proponent of CFW, would mention that is seems possible, perhaps even likely, that if he chooses Taco Bell instead on Wendys, it might be for various reasons. Perhaps he likes the taste of the food at Taco Bell better than the taste of the food at Wendys. Perhaps he thinks the cost of a meal at Taco Bell is lower than the cost of a meal at Wendys. Or perhaps the nearest Taco Bell to his house is closer than the nearest Wendys.
So, one might consider the possibility that, given the antecedent conditions, the person’s taste preferences or the person’s perceptions of the cost of a meal at Taco Bell compared to Wendys, the distance of Taco Bell and Wendys from the person’s house (and other conditions), this person could not make a decision other than the decision he made.
That seems to be an argument against free will, but consider if the antecedent conditions were such that this person liked the taste of Wendys food more than the taste of Taco Bell and, thus, decided to go to Wendys. By changing the antecedent conditions, the decision is different.
I would still call this free will because it isn’t as though this person is locked in a basement and his kidnapper has slid a burrito from Taco Bell through a slot in the door, giving the captive person no choice. In my thought experiement, the person chooses based on his first order desires.
Apply this to the fable presented to us in Genesis 3.
Then God presents the consequences of this, to the serpent, to the woman and to the man.
Adam and Eve made the free will decision to eat the fruit from the tree in the middle of the garden. At this point it would be interesting to consider a compatiblist version of free will, a decision someone makes based on the antecedent conditions, including the person’s first order desires.
What if Adam’s desire to obey God and Eve’s desire to obey God were stronger than their desire to eat the fruit suggested by the serpent? In that case, Eve would have said, “No thanks. We were told not to each that fruit. So, we won’t.”
This would have still been a free will decision, but in this case their first order desires would have been a bit different and the result would have been a different decision.
All of this is to say that I don’t think the God as presented in Genesis can be let off the hook for the decision that Adam and Eve (and the serpent) made because it was God who created the antecedent conditions.
The title of this discussion is “Can We Reconcile the Canaanite Conquest with a God of Love?
Dr. Randal Rauser talks about his book “Jesus Loves Canaanites.”
Annnnd, you’ve already exceeded my give-a-darn.
Philosophy isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.
It certainly isn’t mine.
Science, however, is, and that’s why I feel compelled to call out its misapplication and distortion, hence the original post.
Six.
That makes perfect sense to me. Six is double the number of persons in the Trinity (3) and half of the number of Jesus’s apostles (12).
If only we knew whether Dogbert reasoned in the same way.
Also the expected value per Charlie Brown, “eight if they’re skinny, four if they’re fat”.
This starts with a numbers thing, and moves on to… well, I don’t want to be a spoiler for anyone hasn’t already seen it:
The argument from “irreducible complexity,” the subject of Behe’s popular work, is an argument from ignorance in the spirit of ancient pantheistic explanations for natural phenomena we now recognize as, in fact, natural phenomena. Replace the shaman’s garb and status with that of the Doctor of Philosophy, and we end up in the same place: people who know little of nature accepting the word of the expert that the observed phenomenon can have no other than a supernatural inspiration.
That doesn’t mean he’s wrong.
What it does mean is that he’s making an argument we’ve heard before, and that has, in prior instances, been demonstrated to be wrong. It’s an argument that can always be made at the fringe of knowledge: We don’t know how X can possibly happen by natural causes, so it must be the product of supernatural explanation.
Replace X with fire, rain, thunder, the orbit of the planets, the origin of species, the origin of life, etc. The form of the argument is always the same.
That doesn’t mean it’s wrong in this instance.
But the scientist who makes that argument stops being a scientist, and starts being a theologian.
There’s nothing wrong with being a theologian, but theologians shouldn’t pretend to be scientists.
Incorrect. Arguments have patterns. Arguments from ignorance have a particular pattern. Behe’s argument doesn’t have that pattern.
That’s fine. Behe’s argument is that, since we haven’t yet found a naturalistic explanation, a supernatural one remains the most compelling. Feel free to apply whatever name you like to that particular formulation. I don’t care what we call it.
Whatever it is, it isn’t science. And that’s my point. It’s the abandonment of science, the rejection of a process, the methods of science, that hasn’t yet borne fruit in favor of a theology, mysticism, or some other supernatural explanation.
I’m not concerned about the formal name of what’s being done, nor even about whether or not it’s a logical error. What I am concerned about is that it isn’t science, but rather a betrayal of science and, ultimately, a misuse of science to lead others to conclusions that science does not support.