APOLOGIA

ET CETERA

2012-01-25T20:12:00.006-06:00

Critical Review
By Hendrik van der Breggen

For the Bible Tells Me So, produced & directed by David Karslake (New York: First Run Features, 2007)

Recently I watched For the Bible Tells Me So, a documentary about religion and homosexuality in the U.S. The film well depicts the suffering some gays face and the struggles some Christian families encounter when a family member is gay, and thus the film presents some truly legitimate concerns. In fact, several of the concerns are heart-wrenching injustices. The abuse of homosexuals and the hate-mongering directed toward homosexuals are unjust—and all the more so when done in the name of Christ. Surely, followers of Christ should show genuine love to all persons, including persons who self-identify as gay or lesbian. Injustices done in the name of Christ hurt people whom Christ loves dearly. I, and no doubt many other Christians, find such injustices deeply troubling.

Having said this—and without making light of this at all—I wish to note that the film also has serious shortcomings. The documentary is misleading in at least four significant ways, which, as a Christian who is an academic, I find deeply troubling too.

First, the film poorly reports the science relevant to homosexuality. For example, the twin studies the film presents are dubious. According to the film, when one identical twin is gay the other is gay "up to 70% of the time," thereby (allegedly) demonstrating the role of genes in determining homosexuality. But, it turns out, more recent and more careful scientific investigation tells us that the actual percentage is somewhere between 11 and 20%. (For substantiation of this point, see my first recommended reading by Yarhouse below.) If science is to be taken seriously, it should be presented accurately.

(Ironically, in communicating its exaggerated report of the twin studies the film employs a cartoon featuring a character named "Christian" who displays a negative attitude toward science.)

Second, by using a cartoon the film unfairly represents those persons who successfully leave homosexuality: "We're still gay," whispers a lesbian cartoon character standing on a conveyor belt after coming out of an Ex-Gay Ministry machine. But, the careful viewer should ask: Where are the live interviews with people from ex-gay ministries such as Exodus International and National Association for Research and Therapy of Homosexuality (NARTH)? Where is the respected (if not infamous) Spitzer report concerning persons who have changed their orientation to a significant degree? Is the film suppressing the voices of ex-gays?

If one doubts the existence of ex-gays, one should see (for starters) the cover story of World magazine, December 17, 2011. This story features Alan Chambers, a long time ex-gay who is presently president of Exodus International. Joe Dallas, a previous president of Exodus International and author of The Gay Gospel? (Harvest House, 1996/2007), is another ex-gay who should be considered. Apparently, there are many ex-gays whose voices the film ignores.

(Are ex-gays rejected twice—first because of their homosexuality, and again because they are no longer gay? If the first is an injustice, then the second would seem to be an injustice too.)

Third, the film mistakenly suggests that all persons who are not pro-gay are homophobic. To be sure, some people are homophobic, that is, some people have an irrational fear of, or hatred for, homosexuals. But, it needs to be emphasized, many people who are not pro-gay are not homophobic. Why? Because they have reasonable concerns.

Some reasonable concerns about same-sex sexual behaviour stem from findings in the health sciences. For evidence, see the medical section of the Christian Medical and Dental Associations' statement on homosexuality (scroll to bottom for references). (CMDA is a Christian group, but the studies to which they appeal come from various secular scientific sources.) See too NARTH's medical issues page.

Moreover, some reasonable concerns stem from principled moral positions having to do with gay-related social issues such as same-sex marriage.

For evidence, take at look at the arguments of Margaret Somerville, professor of law at McGill University. See Somerville's essay, “What about the Children?”, in Daniel Cere and Douglas Farrow, editors, Divorcing Marriage: Unveiling the Dangers in Canada’s New Social Experiment (McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2004); and see Somerville’s essay, “The other ‘rights question’ in same-sex marriage” at the Institute for the Study of Marriage, Law and Culture.

By ignoring such reasonable concerns, the film gives the impression that disagreement on same-sex issues is fueled only by homophobia, not sober-minded rational concern. This impression is neither true, nor fair to critics, nor does it contribute positively to informed discussion.

Fourth, the film weakly and unfairly presents the hermeneutical/ interpretive issues involved in reading the Bible carefully. The film suggests that those persons who disagree with gay revisionists should be dismissed as "biblical literalists" or as having merely a "5th grade understanding." In fact, however, many who disagree with gay revisionist interpretations of Scripture do not always take texts literally and are highly educated.

Why didn't the film interview experts in Biblical scholarship pertaining to homosexuality who strongly disagree with gay revisionism, are not "biblical literalists," and have high academic credentials? I'm thinking here of Harvard and Princeton educated Robert A. J. Gagnon, PhD, author of The Bible and Homosexual Practice: Texts and Hermeneutics (Abingdon, 2001). Another important scholar is Andrews University’s Richard M. Davidson, PhD, author of Flame of Yahweh: Sexuality in the Old Testament (Hendrickson, 2007). The film is supposed to be taking the Bible seriously, isn't it?

There are more than four problems with the documentary, but these are sufficient for illustrating the grounds for my concern.

Where For the Bible Tells Me So is good, which is in many places, especially its depiction of the struggles of gay individuals in their Christian family contexts, it is really good; but where it is bad, which is in many places too, such as those I’ve presented above, it is really bad. The danger in this film is that the emotionally-charged good parts will probably jam (block, interfere with) those bad parts where careful thinking and background information are required, thereby letting poor reasoning and falsehoods slip by unchecked. As summary descriptors of the film, the words “propaganda” and “manipulation” come to mind, though these words are too strong. Probably a better word is "unbalanced."

My recommendation: See the film, take the good parts of its message to heart, but think very very carefully as you do—and maybe even do some research first.

P.S. A helpful, more-detailed review of For the Bible Tells Me So can be found at psychologist Mark Yarhouse's blog Limning the Psyche. A helpful resource for Christians dealing with gay issues on a more personal level can be found in Mark Yarhouse's book, Homosexuality and the Christian: A Guide for Parents, Pastors, and Friends (Bethany House, 2010).

P.P.S. Here are some additional Apologia columns that address homosexuality:
1. Homophobia, bigotry, intolerance?
2. It's all society's fault?
3. Born gay?
4. The ad hominem fallacy

God-of-the-gaps objection (Part 1)

2012-01-12T21:22:00.001-06:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, January 12, 2012)

God-of-the-gaps objection (Part 1)

Sometimes the intelligent design hypothesis is said to be an illegitimate scientific explanation because of the so-called God-of-the-gaps objection. Today I will explain the God-of-the-gaps objection, plus I will argue that this objection is problematic.

According to the God-of-the-gaps objection, intelligent design (ID) is a faulty explanation because it is based on ignorance, not knowledge. That is to say, ID is based on gaps in our knowledge of the capacities of natural non-intelligent causes, but natural non-intelligent causes are actually at work, as further scientific investigation will show.

For example, many years ago people appealed to God as an explanation for lightning. But, of course, we now know that lightning is an atmospheric electrostatic discharge (i.e., a form of static electricity), not God's intervention. Clearly, using God as an explanation of lightning is to display ignorance of the actual causes of lightning. Clearly, too, as science progresses, the gaps due to human ignorance close—and so the "God" of the gaps gets squeezed out.

Thus, according to the God-of-the-gaps objection, we should not appeal to ID as an explanation.

Is the God-of-the-gaps objection reasonable to believe? I don't think so. Here is one argument for thinking that the God-of-the-gaps objection, when aimed at ID, is problematic. (Next time I will set out a second argument.)

Yes, the God-of-the-gaps objection gains traction when a God hypothesis is applied without reasonable constraint, that is, when evidence truly doesn't warrant it (think of our lightning example). However, the fact remains that ID can sometimes be applied reasonably.

According to ID proponents, ID is appropriate when—and only when—two conditions are satisfied: (1) we have positive knowledge for thinking that non-intelligent causes clearly struggle/fail, and (2) we have positive knowledge that the phenomena to be explained clearly resemble the sorts of things that only known intelligent causes do.

Interestingly, the satisfaction of these conditions is at the heart of reasoning that we do in everyday life when we discern intelligent causes.

For example, if I am playing Scrabble with my family and I see the letters, DAD-IT-IS-YOUR-TURN-TO-BUY-PIZZA, I know (i.e., have reasonable belief) that the arrangement of letters has been intelligently designed. Why? Because (1) I know that it’s extremely improbable for Scrabble letters to arrange themselves this way without input of intelligence, and (2) I know that this arrangement of letters displays those distinct characteristics which originate from a mind or personal agent, i.e., an intelligent cause.

Sure, it's logically possible that the letters' arrangement was due to chance, natural law, or some combination of these, but, clearly, it's reasonable to think that an intelligent cause explanation is the more plausible hypothesis.

In the 2009 book Signature in the Cell: DNA and the Evidence for Intelligent Design, philosopher of science Stephen C. Meyer takes the above-described ID reasoning to the investigation of the origin of the information content of Deoxyribonucleic Acid (DNA), the blueprint of life. Notice how Meyer employs the aforementioned two conditions.

First, Meyer argues, we know that the origin of the code of DNA is highly improbable when we are given non-intelligent causes only. According to Meyer, contemporary science tells us that the major contending explanations which do not appeal to intelligent causes are not up for the explanatory task. Contemporary science tells us that material non-intelligent causes, when understood wholly in terms of chance, physical necessity, or combinations of chance and physical necessity, very apparently lack the capacity to produce the rich information content of DNA.

In other words, because of what we know of physical matter, we have positive knowledge that explanations of DNA's origin which don't appeal to intelligent causes have great difficulty.

Second, Meyer argues, we know from our uniform and repeated experience of the cause-and-effect structure of the world that only intelligent causal agency produces the sort of information that is found in DNA (i.e., information that is like that found in my string of Scrabble letters, but is much more complex). Meyer calls this sort of information functionally specified information (or specified information, for short). The information consists of a complicated set of instructions that direct the construction of non-living material/chemical structures to function together in a highly specific way, i.e., as a complex integrated system, which is the first life.

Moreover, we know that DNA's code, i.e., DNA's complex functionally-specified information, resembles human-made computer software, but is much more sophisticated. As Bill Gates of Microsoft has famously said, “DNA is like a computer program but far, far more advanced than any software we’ve ever created.”

Because of the satisfaction of both of the above two conditions, Meyer concludes that the ID hypothesis is a scientifically legitimate way to go.

But, we should pause here and notice: Meyer's argument is definitely not an argument from gaps in our knowledge.

In other words, the ID hypothesis (when used properly) is based on what we know. It's based on positive knowledge of the capacities (or lack thereof) of non-intelligent causes, and it's based on positive knowledge of the sorts of things only intelligent causes do. Properly understood, then, ID is not an argument based on ignorance, so ID is not a case of God-of-the-gaps reasoning.

Therefore, when directed at ID, the God-of-the-gaps objection is problematic—and it should not block our scientific inquiries into evidence for intelligent design.

Stay tuned for part two.

P.S. Philosopher of science John Lennox has a helpful (four minute) video about the God-of-the-gaps objection here.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, Ph.D., is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence University College.)

The if-you-were-born-in-India objection

2011-12-21T11:06:00.002-06:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, December 21, 2011)

The if-you-were-born-in-India objection

There is an oft-heard objection to Christian belief which runs like this: If you were born in India, you'd probably be a Hindu. If you were born in Indonesia, you'd probably be a Muslim. If you were born in Tibet, you'd probably be a Buddhist. Christians are Christians because they were born in a Christian country or they were raised by Christian parents.

So, or so the objection goes, Christianity is merely cultural—something one has grown into. In other words, Christian belief is due to the geography or "accident" of one's birth rather than any connection to reason and truth.

Is this a good objection?

I don't think so, for two reasons.

Reason 1. Yes, it's true that, statistically, if one were born in India, then one would probably be a Hindu. However, from this it does not follow logically that one must accept the religion of one's culture as true or worthy of belief. Why not? Because, as Socrates famously quipped, "the unexamined life is not worth living."

The point: You begin your life with the belief system that's inherited from your culture or parents, but you need not end there—you can think carefully about the inherited belief system and evaluate it for its truth content.

Philosopher Paul Copan clarifies (in his book "True For You, But Not For Me": Deflating the Slogans that Leave Christians Speechless): "An analogy from politics is helpful. As with the multiple religious alternatives in the world, there are many political alternatives—monarchy, Fascism, Marxism, or democracy. What if we tell a Marxist or a conservative Republican that if he had been raised in Nazi Germany, he would have belonged to the Hitler Youth? He will probably agree but ask what your point is. What is the point of this analogy? Just because a diversity of political options has existed in the history of the world doesn't obstruct us from evaluating one political system as superior to its rivals."

Ditto for religion and philosophy.

In other words, people need not be locked into their cultural ways of thinking. There is something called simple truth that all people can discern. Also, there are logical ways of reasoning that are cross-cultural. Also, there is moral knowledge that is not limited to one's culture.

Yes, some cultures thwart the appreciation of simple truth, good reasoning, and moral knowledge. Nevertheless, the misuse or abuse of X doesn't mean X does not exist and cannot be appropriately used. How important, then, for those persons who have knowledge of truth to share it.

(At this juncture, we should note that sharing truth need not imply that the sharer thinks of him/herself as superior in any way. Copan [in Lee Strobel's book The Case for the Real Jesus] puts it this way: "My wife and I like a restaurant called the Macaroni Grill. When we tell people about it, we're not saying, 'I'm better than you because I know about the Macaroni Grill and you don't.' No—we're merely happy to pass on the news about the place. And that's how it should be with the Christian faith. Our attitude shouldn't be, 'I'm better than you,' but, 'I found something really good; I urge you to check it out.'")

Reason 2. It is important to realize that the Christianity found in the New Testament was not just a cultural expression or merely a result of the way people were raised; rather, New Testament Christianity began anew in a non-Christian culture and it spread into other non-Christian cultures—as it continues to do today.

Christianity began and spread on the basis of eye-witness testimony concerning the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus—testimony that the Holy Spirit clearly used and continues to use to further Christ's kingdom.

Of course, many persons in later generations accepted Christianity for merely cultural reasons. Nevertheless, this fact does not preclude the reality that many non-Christians accept Jesus Christ as Lord—and many Christians continue to accept Jesus Christ as Lord—for reasons having to do with evidence and truth.

In summary, the following comment from J. Steve Lee (from the Apologetics Study Bible for Students) is helpful: “[W]here you were raised does have an obvious impact on your religious beliefs; however, history proves that this can be overcome when people reconsider their beliefs in light of evidence and argumentation. While most people’s religious beliefs reflect where they were raised, they still have the freedom and responsibility to consider the evidence and claims of their religion. Christianity excels when people take the time to seriously explore its claims as well as reconsider the non-Christian beliefs with which they were raised.”

Therefore, the if-you-were-born-in-India objection is problematic.

Significantly, the objection impinges on neither the reasons for nor the truth of the core claims of Christianity, i.e., that God became a human being in Jesus, that Jesus died for our sins, and that Jesus physically resurrected from death, thereby giving us hope of eternal life.

To all my readers, whether born in India, Indonesia, or Tibet—or wherever—I wish you Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

(Hendrik van der Breggen, Ph.D., teaches philosophy at Providence University College.)

Physician-Assisted Suicide is a Slippery Slope

2011-12-01T21:02:00.000-06:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, December 1, 2011)

Physician-assisted suicide is a slippery slope

The question of whether physician-assisted suicide (PAS) should be legal in Canada is presently before the B.C. Supreme Court. I have argued previously that PAS is problematic (The Carillon, Aug. 18 and Sept. 29). Today I will sketch an argument for thinking that legalizing PAS puts us on a dangerous slippery slope.

What follows is based on an argument from Paul Chamberlain's excellent book Final Wishes (Wipf & Stock 2009). (Chamberlain teaches apologetics and philosophy at Trinity Western University in Langley, British Columbia.) According to Chamberlain, there is a non-fallacious slippery slope logically connected to the legalization of PAS for the terminally ill.

Chamberlain's case hinges on the notion of patient autonomy coupled with the observation that reasons for one action sometimes also justify other actions which are unintended.

In the context of legalized PAS for the terminally ill, patient autonomy becomes understood in terms of the following fundamental principle: the sufferer has the right to choose PAS to end his/her suffering.

Significantly, accepting PAS as a legal right on the basis of this fundamental principle opens up and justifies a host of new situations in which persons suffer and may request PAS. These situations include not only (a) the terminally ill but also (b) the non-terminally ill, (c) the elderly, (d) the disabled, (e) the parent suffering the loss of a child, (f) the person suffering chronic back pain, (g) the depressed teenager, and (h) so on.

So, if we accept PAS in the case of the terminally ill on the basis of the principle behind patient autonomy—i. e., the principle that the sufferer has the right to choose PAS to end his/her suffering—then logic and law will demand that we accept PAS in other cases.

Of course, we can try to set up so-called legal safeguards to limit PAS to the terminally ill, but our courts will do what courts do—they will promote consistency. But consistency demands that all of the above-mentioned suffering persons, if they request PAS (and if they hire a good lawyer), can be quite reasonably seen to have the right to PAS too. Indeed (or so the argument would go), if we have already accepted patient autonomy as a legal justification for PAS, how can we deny them PAS?

Yes, the new situations are different. But their differences are incidental, if not irrelevant. Why? Because at the core of each of these new situations we have a sufferer who requests PAS. Moreover, consistency requires that PAS's fundamental justifying principle—i.e., that the sufferer has the right to choose PAS to end his/her suffering—will carry more legal weight than the situational differences. The principle is, after all, fundamental (i.e., basic and more important).

The result: Legal acceptance of PAS for the terminally ill will put gobs of grease onto the path that leads to death as a legally permissible solution to the suffering of the non-terminally ill, the elderly, the disabled, the parent suffering the loss of a child, the person suffering chronic back pain, the depressed teenager, and so on.

In other words, the legal acceptance of PAS puts us on a slippery slope that embraces death as a solution to medical, social, and psychological problems.

We should pray that the B.C. Supreme Court realizes that medical, social, and psychological problems require medical, social, and psychological solutions—not killing.

P.S. For other arguments against the wisdom of legalizing physician-assisted suicide, see my Apologia columns On Putting Down Pets and People, Look at Pros and Cons, and ET CETERA.

P.P.S. For further examination of slippery slope arguments in general, see my Apologia columns Slippery Slope Arguments (Part 1) and Slippery Slope Arguments (Part 2).

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence University College.)

Abortion in the news (part 2)

2011-11-09T21:19:00.000-06:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, November 9, 2011)

Abortion in the news (part 2)

Last time I mentioned that I was dismayed at some of the so-called "pro-choice" arguments I've noticed in the public discussion of abortion. Here is yet another "pro-choice" argument that deserves criticism.

Actually, this "pro-choice" argument is an argument that focuses on the people who are critical of abortion. This argument tells the pro-life proponent that before she can legitimately defend the right to life of the unborn child, she should (a) adopt all unwanted children, (b) give resources to women who are contemplating abortion, plus (c) make the world a more just place. Otherwise, or so the argument goes, defenders of the pro-life position can be ignored.

Baylor University philosopher Francis Beckwith nicely sets out this argument plus offers a helpful assessment, so I quote Beckwith at length.

Beckwith writes: "This argument [i.e., the "pro-choice" argument against pro-life people and their pro-life view] can be distilled into the following assertion: unless the pro-life advocate is willing to help bring up the children she does not want aborted, she has no right to prevent a woman from having an abortion."

Beckwith again (but now in assessment mode): "As a principle of moral action, this seems to be a rather bizarre assertion. It begs the question by assuming that the unborn are not human persons."

Beckwith adds: "Wouldn't we consider the murder of a couple's children unjustified even if we were approached by the parents with the ultimatum, 'Unless you adopt our three children by noon tomorrow, we will put them to death'? The fact that we may refuse to adopt these children does not mean that their parents are justified in killing them. The issue, once more, is whether the unborn are human persons."

Beckwith adds: "Although the pro-life movement does have a moral duty to help those in need, especially unwed mothers (and there are enough organizations dedicated to this ministry to show that the pro-lifers do practice what they preach), the point that I am making is that the unborn do not suddenly become nonpersons and not entitled to protection simply because individual pro-lifers are not currently involved in works of mercy."

Beckwith again: "Personal attacks against pro-lifers are attempts to avoid the question of whether the unborn are human persons….We should simply remind our attackers that such assaults have no bearing on the question of whether or not abortion is unjustified homicide."

Clearly, then, for justice to prevail, truth must prevail.

It seems to me that knowledge of truth about the unborn child's humanity is an important step towards justice for the most vulnerable of the vulnerable—the least of the least of these.

P.S. The above quotes are from Francis J. Beckwith’s little book, Abortion and the Sanctity of Human Life (College Press, 2000), 62-63. Beckwith’s book is a fine resource for those who wish to think critically about the abortion issue. A fine resource for those facing a crisis pregnancy is the Crisis Pregnancy Centre of Winnipeg.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, Ph.D., teaches philosophy at Providence University College.)

Abortion in the news

2011-10-20T20:57:00.002-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, October 20, 2011)

Abortion in the news

Recently, the abortion issue hit the news in Canada when some conservative MPs challenged the government's funding of International Planned Parenthood Federation, an agency that's well-known for its promotion of abortion.

As I observed the public discussion of this news (e.g., by looking at the online comments on CBC News), I was dismayed at the problematic nature of many of the so-called "pro-choice" arguments.

Here are three of those arguments, plus my assessments.

Pro-choice argument 1: Abortion is about a woman's body only, so nobody else should have a say in the matter.

Assessment: The premise is not true. Abortion is not just about a woman’s body. When a woman is pregnant, there are two bodies that are of concern—the mother’s body and the child’s body.

Moreover, society in general—and the father in particular—should have a say in the matter. Why? Because the unborn child is a human being and thus a member of the human family.

Pro-choice argument 2: Rape justifies abortion.

Assessment: Some perspective is in order here. Rape accounts for less than one percent of abortions in Canada, so in Canada rape doesn’t justify all abortions. To think that it does is to commit the fallacy of hasty generalization.

Also, the rape-justifies-abortion argument assumes the unborn child has no moral right to life, so in the context of the abortion debate, the argument commits the fallacy of question begging (it assumes as proven/ established that which is at issue).

Also, the awkward but important question arises: Why punish the child for the crime of its father? That is, why turn the unborn child into an innocent victim, too?

Surely, it would be better to do the following: (a) help the innocent child (by, say, adoption); (b) help the suffering mother (by, say, psychological, medical, and financial assistance); (c) punish the rapist (by locking him up as well as seizing his assets to pay restitution to mother and child); and (d) provide policing to prevent rape in the first place (especially in those countries where rape is prevalent).

Rape is terrible. Nevertheless, abortion does not undo a rape. In fact, abortion is an instance of further violence. In addition, there is growing evidence of abortion's negative health consequences for the mother, so abortion as a "solution" to rape may make matters worse for the rape victim.

Pro-choice argument 3: If you don’t believe in abortion, don’t have one.

Assessment: This argument simply ignores the arguments of those who think that the unborn are human beings and deserve protection.

To those who think that the unborn are human beings and deserve protection, this argument has the same force as saying, “If you don’t believe in slavery, don’t own one.” Or, "If you don't believe in murder, don't kill anyone." This “pro-choice” argument assumes that beliefs about human rights and the application of such beliefs in life are limited to one’s personal sphere only. But such an assumption is a mistake.

In closing, we should note that most abortions in Canada (over 90%) occur because of social problems. But, surely, social problems require social solutions—not killing.

When a woman faces a crisis pregnancy, she definitely needs help finding a solution to the problem—so fathers, friends, family, church, and society should assist mightily. But "solving" the problem of an unwanted child by allowing the choice to kill that child is morally problematic. It’s like solving the problem of homelessness by allowing the choice to kill the homeless.

It's an unjust solution. It’s wrong.

P.S. For a startling yet hope-inspiring look at the abortion issue, I encourage readers to visit heartchanger.com and view the 33 minute movie 180.

Note: My other columns on abortion can be found here:

Morgentaler’s abortion of logic (September 4, 2008)

Aborting an abortion argument (September 18, 2008)

Acorns and oak trees…and abortion (October 2, 2008)

On abortion, again (October 16, 2008)

(Hendrik van der Breggen, Ph.D., teaches philosophy at Providence University College.)

Physician-Assisted Suicide: Look at pros AND cons

2011-09-29T21:22:00.001-05:00

Dr. Jack Kevorkian with suicide machine (AP Photo, 1991)
APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, September 29, 2011)

Physician-assisted suicide: Look at pros AND cons

Often in the discussion about whether or not physician-assisted suicide should be made legal in Canada, proponents of legalization tend to look at arguments in favour but not arguments against. I think that we should look at pros and cons, not just pros.

I understand that a major pro for physician-assisted suicide has to do with the individual's choice in response to suffering. Freedom is important, truly.

But, of course, the freedom to exercise one's choice is not absolute. I do not have the freedom to shout "Fire!" in a crowded theatre if there is no fire and if the shout will cause a stampede to the exits resulting in injury to others.

So, yes, individual freedom is important, but the individual does not live in a social vacuum. In public policy debates we should think about the individual's freedom AND the consequences for the larger society.

Here, then, are three cons or concerns—i.e., three possible negative consequences for the larger society if physician-assisted suicide is accepted—which should also be considered.

Concern 1. Our society will see suicide more and more as a legitimate way of solving an individual's problems. Got a problem that makes you suffer? Don't forget you can get help to kill yourself!

(This scenario is not far-fetched. At one of the universities I attended not too long ago, I worked as a teaching assistant in an ethics course for a fellow doctoral student who told the class [a] that he had advised his roommate that suicide was an option as a solution to the roommate's problems and [b] that subsequently the roommate committed suicide. My fellow doctoral student displayed no qualms or remorse about the advice.)

Concern 2. Life will no longer be seen as society's default position and so our most vulnerable—the elderly, terminally ill, disabled—must begin to justify their lives. Surely, this is a nasty burden to place on people when they're already down.

Concern 3. If the choice of the sufferer constitutes sufficient legal grounds for the sufferer to end his/her life, then suicide intervention or counseling against suicide may become grounds for a lawsuit against the intervener or counselor. There will be a chilling effect against suicide intervention and counseling.

It seems to me that if we can give top-notch medical and psychological care to those individuals who suffer—such that the suffering is alleviated—then (a) there would be no need for physician-assisted suicide AND (b) we would end up with a healthier, happier, and less morally-calloused Canada.

In view of the pros and cons, I think it would be wise for Canadians not to legalize physician-assisted suicide and instead do a better job of providing palliative and hospice care.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, teaches ethics at Providence University College.)

P.S. For additional arguments against physician-assisted suicide, be sure to look here and here.

God and the Principle of Non-Contradiction

2011-09-08T22:50:00.002-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, September 8, 2011)

God and the Principle of Non-Contradiction

Some people claim that it is possible for God to perform an inherently contradictory task. The idea is that God is all powerful, so God can do anything—even violate the principle of non-contradiction.

I agree that God is all-powerful, but I disagree that an all-powerful God can do inherently contradictory things or tasks.

Here are my reasons.

First, there is the rational insight that the principle of non-contradiction is true. The principle of non-contraction states that nothing can both be and not-be, at the same time and in the same sense. It seems to me (and many others) that this principle is self-evidently true, if one thinks about it.

Please do think about it: For a task to be inherently contradictory requires that something both be AND not-be at the same time and in the same sense. Clearly, such tasks simply are not the case and cannot be the case, metaphysically (i.e., in reality) as well as logically (i.e., in principle).

In other words, descriptions of such tasks are necessarily false, and so the principle of non-contradiction is necessarily true—and we know this.

(If, having paused to think about the principle of non-contradiction, you don't intuit its truth and the falsity of its violation, please go on to think about the concrete examples I set out in my second reason; then re-read my first reason. Please be patient, and please keep in mind that logical insight sometimes takes effort and time—as, say, mathematical insight sometimes takes effort and time.)

Second, concrete examples of inherently contradictory tasks demonstrate the truth of the principle of non-contradiction.

Consider the following tasks:

(a) Making a square circle. Such a task requires the making of a square figure that is, at the same time and in the same sense, not a square figure. Such a task requires the making of (1) a four-sided figure whose sides are straight lines and whose four corners are right angles, which is also (2) not a four-sided figure whose sides are straight lines and whose four corners are right angles. (Think about it.)

(b) Making a sibling-less sister. Such a task requires the creation of a female human being who has a biological brother or sister and who, at the same time and in the same sense, has no biological brother or sister. (We're not thinking of "sister" as a nun; we're thinking biological relation.)

(c) Making a cup of coffee that’s full of coffee and, at the same time and in the same sense, not full of coffee. (Yes, have a cup of java and think about it.)

(d) The task of making a statue taller than I am and, at the same time and in the same respect, shorter than I am. (I'm 6 feet and 3.5 inches tall.)

The above "tasks" are meaningless—they're nonsense. The concepts involved in a contradiction cancel each other out, resulting in a failure of reference. There is no referent, and there cannot be a referent.

The proper response to any request to perform an inherently contradictory task is: Huh? (And maybe taking some Tylenol.)

If we ask God to do such a "task" (better: pseudo-task), then we are asking God to do what in fact and in principle cannot be done by anyone, including God. We would be asking God to do some thing that isn't a thing! (I suspect that God's response might be: "What the heck are you talking about?!")

Of course, God is able to do tasks that are so subtle and complex that they may seem contradictory to us. But that’s another issue. That’s a reflection of our limitations, not a reflection of the clear meaning of contradiction and what it means to violate the principle of non-contradiction.

C. S. Lewis understood the principle of non-contradiction clearly, so I close with him:

"[M]eaningless combinations of words do not suddenly acquire meaning simply because we prefix to them the two other words 'God can'. It remains true that all things are possible with God: the intrinsic impossibilities are not things but nonentities. It is no more possible for God than for the weakest of His creatures to carry out both of two mutually exclusive alternatives; not because His power meets an obstacle, but because nonsense remains nonsense even when we talk it about God." (C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain, p. 15.)

(Hendrik van der Breggen, Ph.D., teaches philosophy at Providence University College.)

On putting down pets and people

2011-08-18T19:50:00.004-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, August 18, 2011)

On putting down pets and people

In the current Canadian discussion about whether physician-assisted suicide should be legalized for the terminally-ill, an oft-heard argument in favour of legalization is what I call the "we-put-down-pets-so-let's-put-down-people" argument. I think that this argument should be put down.

Let's take a closer look at the argument, then let's assess it.

Here is a version of the argument which I've seen on the Internet (from a comment on the Aug. 3 CBC News article "Should people have the legal right to assisted suicide?"):

"When it comes to an end of life which is filled with pain and suffering, we treat our animals better. No one thinks twice about euthanizing an animal that is in pain and the prognosis is not good. But for a human? Not so much. Who are we keeping them alive for? Surely not themselves. The greatest gift we can give a loved one is a good and decent death with as little suffering as possible."

Here is another version of the argument from the Internet (a comment on the Aug. 3 CBC Radio column "Dr. Brian's Side of the Gurney"):

"I agree with assisted suicide. We have enough compassion on suffering animals to put them down. Why not help a human being end his/her suffering?"

It seems to me that the "we-put-down-pets-so-let's-put-down-people" argument is deeply problematic.

First, it's simply not the case that we treat people more humanely when we put them down when they suffer. The humane, compassionate response to a human being who is suffering pain and his/her prognosis is not good is care—palliative care.

Palliative care is medical care that allows terminally-ill people to die with dignity, with little or no pain, and surrounded by genuinely caring people. Surely, the humane thing to do is provide comfort and pain relief for people who suffer, not take their lives.

Not so incidentally, to describe the deliberate and active killing of a loved one as a "good and decent death" or "the greatest gift"—when good palliative care can be given instead—is, to put it mildly, a dangerous misuse of language (kind of like describing the now-famous theft by British thugs of the contents of an injured man's backpack as "helping" or "lightening his load").

Second, as we think about the "we-put-down-pets-so-let's-put-down-people" argument, we should also be reminded of this fact: withdrawing or withholding extraordinary, burdensome, or medically useless treatment from a terminally ill patient and thereby allowing the patient to die of the illness is already both a legal and ethical part of palliative care—and does not require the legalization of physician-assisted suicide.

We should also remember that there is a treatment called palliative sedation, which can minimize pain as death runs its natural course.

Third, the legal acceptance of physician-assisted suicide—i.e., the deliberate, active killing of a suffering human being—signals the culture's embrace of death as a solution to medical, social, and psychological problems. Call me a defender of some old-fashioned ideals of human civilization, but it seems to me that medical, social, and psychological problems require medical, social, and psychological solutions—not killing.

I strongly suspect that if we had better palliative care (i.e., medical care that allows terminally-ill people to die with dignity, with little or no pain, and surrounded by genuinely caring people), we would also have fewer people calling for physician-assisted suicide.

Maybe instead of calling for a right to physician-assisted suicide, we should be calling for a right to top-notch palliative care? Surely, that would be more humane than putting down a loved one as if he/she were a pet.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence University College.)

P.S. For additional arguments against physician-assisted suicide, be sure to look here.

ET CETERA

2011-08-13T11:36:00.012-05:00

ET CETERA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(August 13, 2011)

Physcian-assisted suicide?

From time to time, I present ET CETERA in Apologia to inform readers of some goings-on relating to my life and work or to share some of my Apologia-related thoughts that aren't published in the column itself. Today, readers are invited to read "The Image of God: Why Life Is Worth Defending Against Physician-Assisted Suicide." This article was published in the Spring 2011 issue of Focus magazine, a publication of the Christian Medical and Dental Society of Canada. See pages 8-13.

Article synopsis: In response to recent efforts by the B.C. Civil Liberties Association to legalize physician-assisted suicide in Canada, I set out arguments to defend three major theses: (1) that human dignity is a non-negotiable, essential part of human nature, i.e., a built-in reflection of God; (2) that Christian Scripture condemns suicide and, by implication, physician-assisted suicide, though, significantly, Scripture also tells us to provide physical, emotional, and psychological care for those who suffer; and (3) that there is substantial secular doubt that can be cast onto the wisdom of legalizing physician-assisted suicide—enough doubt to encourage our secular society to respect true human dignity by rejecting physician-assisted suicide.

Hiatus

2011-07-23T12:28:00.002-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(July 23, 2011)

Hiatus

For reasons having to do with rest and relaxation, Apologia will cease publication for a few weeks. Enjoy the remaining dog days of summer!

Best regards,
Hendrik van der Breggen

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence University College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

The Dalai Lama, moral truth, and the need for careful thinking

2011-06-29T20:50:00.000-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, June 30, 2011)

The Dalai Lama, moral truth, and the need for careful thinking

"Because of the great differences in our ways of thinking, it is inevitable that we have different religions and faiths. Each has its own beauty. And it is much better that we live together on the basis of mutual respect and mutual admiration." ~ Dalai Lama (June 13, 2011)

The Dalai Lama is a leading voice of Buddhism today and is revered by many. Christians and people of other faiths would do well to realize that although the Dalai Lama does not claim to be God (as Jesus claimed), when the Dalai Lama speaks truth, his claims should be heeded. After all, all truth is God's truth.

I believe that the Dalai Lama's quote (above) contains important truth; nevertheless (and I say this with no disrespect for the Dalai Lama), I think three philosophical qualifications should be made to the Dalai Lama's claims.

Qualification 1. I agree that we should live together on the basis of mutual respect and admiration. But, I would add, this is because human beings have real moral worth. Moreover, I would add, a religion or philosophy is needed to provide a foundation for, i.e., make sense of, such worth. Otherwise the perceived worth may be undermined by a religion or philosophy that rejects rather than reinforces the reality of such worth.

(On the Christian view, human beings have real moral worth because they're made in God's image, and people, whether Christian or not, can know that human beings have real moral worth. In addition, on the Christian view, such moral knowledge is "written on the heart," though perhaps, as one wag has said, it is written in pencil, since some of us seem capable of erasing it.)

Qualification 2. I agree with the Dalai Lama that there are "great differences in our ways of thinking." But, and following closely on the heels of my last point, I would add that we should keep in mind that some ways of thinking are less sensitive to truth and careful reasoning than others—and thus threaten the Dalai Lama's moral thesis that it's better to live together with mutual respect and admiration.

For example, consider Friedrich Nietzsche's ideal human, the atheistic "superman" who is superior to the rest of humanity, a.k.a. the "herd," which is expendable. Or consider Hinduism and its Dalit class, whose members are "untouchable" and alleged to be inferior. These ways of thinking reject the equal moral worth—i.e., mutual respect and admiration—of human beings.

Or consider Islam. Some segments of Islam see women as second rate humans, unfit even to drive automobiles. Again mutual respect and admiration are rejected.

Or consider the "new atheism" of Oxford University professor Richard Dawkins. This view denies objective moral value and understands our moral sense as merely a useful, evolutionary aid to survival. As a result, mutual respect and admiration become ungrounded, especially when they're no longer useful to those in power or, say, when one tribe thinks its survival is more important than the tribe down the road.

Or consider Hinduism (again) or extreme postmodernism. These views deny knowledge of the actual world external to our minds—which includes knowledge of the reality of our neighbor as well as his/her moral worth. Again, kiss mutual respect and admiration good-bye.

So, yes, there are different ways of thinking. But, it should be acknowledged, some ways of thinking end up rejecting the Dalai Lama's moral thesis that it's better to live together with mutual respect and admiration.

Qualification 3. I agree with the Dalai Lama that the world's different religions and faiths have their own beauty. But, I would add, some religions and faiths have less beauty than others. Think of Jonestown and Heaven's Gate, which resulted in mass suicides. Or think of the ancient Aztec/ Mayan religion, which involved human sacrifice (the horror of which we glimpse in Mel Gibson's film Apocalypto).

What's my point in setting out these agreements and then adding the qualifications? It's this: Even though I say "Amen!" to much that the Dalai Lama says (above), the fact remains that, philosophically, to justify the Dalai Lama's moral thesis that we should live together on the basis of mutual respect and admiration requires (at least) a well reasoned refutation of those religious and philosophical views that, if true, would reject actual human worth as illusory or false.

It's not enough for the Dalai Lama to dismiss competing views merely by saying that (a) those views have their own beauty and (b) they're "inevitable" because of our different "ways of thinking" (the differences of which the Dalai Lama elsewhere attributes to human bias).

All ways of thinking—including the Dalai Lama's—should be investigated on a case by case basis, via careful reasoning and careful examination of evidence, so we can determine which are closer to truth (and less biased). Otherwise, the Dalai Lama's position is just one more inevitable and different (biased) way of thinking. It may have its own beauty perhaps, but no evidence or reasons for thinking that it, rather than its competitors, is truly the way to go.

For the sake of truth, then, including the truth that "it is much better to live together on the basis of mutual respect and mutual admiration," we must investigate—and critically assess—the world's various religions and philosophies. Mutual respect and mutual admiration depend on it.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, teaches philosophy at Providence University College.)

Pragmatic theory of truth...is false

2011-06-09T20:58:00.005-05:00

Veritas by Walter Seymour Allward
(Supreme Court of Canada, Ottawa)
APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, June 9, 2011)

Pragmatic theory of truth ... is false

What is truth? In an attempt to answer this question, I will do three things: First, I will explain the pragmatic theory of truth; second, I will show that this view of truth is problematic; third, I will set out what I (and many others) believe is the correct theory—i.e., the correspondence theory of truth.

1. According to the pragmatic theory of truth, truth is defined as usefulness. That a statement is true means that it is useful—truth means "what works."

According to pragmatist philosopher and psychologist William James (1842-1920), “Truth is expedience. By truth we mean that a statement brings the right results or successful predictions.”

On the pragmatic view, then, for a belief to be true means that it guides us successfully when we act on it. By "truth" we mean whatever helps us achieve our values or goals.

Here is an example from science. To believe that it is true that there are causal laws means (merely) that my belief in causal laws is useful in letting me get to the moon (or wherever).

Here is an example from religion. To believe that "Jesus loves me" is true means (merely) that this belief is useful for me, i.e., it gives me peace and meaning in my life. For others, peace and meaning come from, say, Buddhism, or Islam, or the New Age—so "Jesus loves me" is not true for them. In other words, what works for me does not work for them. I have my truth, and they have theirs.

Clearly, the pragmatic theory of truth is popular in our culture.

2. Should we accept the pragmatic theory of truth? I think we should not, for two reasons.

First, although actions based on truth often lead to success, from this fact it does not follow logically that all successful actions are based on truth. It turns out that falsehoods can be useful, too. And we know this.

Think about a court of justice. I promise to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth; I do not promise just to say what works (for me) and only what works (for me). In a legal context, an understanding of truth as merely that which is expedient will be regarded (rightly) as perjury.

Or think about placebos. A placebo isn’t real medicine, but a patient’s belief that it is can sometimes result in a relief of symptoms. Relief of symptoms or not, the patient’s belief is mistaken—and it doesn’t turn a sugar pill into ibuprofen.

“Hence,” contemporary philosopher Richard Creel correctly concludes, “we need a distinction between a belief that is true and a belief that works.” But the pragmatic definition of truth fails to make this distinction.

Second, it is a plain fact that many truths simply cannot be regarded as solutions to problems or as useful. They just are. Think of the truths that there is a bit of dust under your desk, that there is a leaf on the window ledge, etc. These truths hold whether I use them (e.g., in this column) or not.

Thus, the pragmatic theory of truth should be rejected. It fails to account for our pre-theoretic distinction between truth and what works, and it fails to account for the fact that some truths just are, whether they work or not. That a belief works may count to some extent as evidence for the belief's truth, but it's not what truth means.

3. What's the philosophical upshot? It turns out that the above shortcomings of the pragmatic theory reveal a concept of truth that's more fundamental than the pragmatic concept. Enter: the correspondence theory of truth.

According to the correspondence theory, truth is a condition or state of affairs which exists when a statement of what is the case is the case. A truth about the world (reality) is a statement that corresponds to the way things actually are. That a statement is true means that it corresponds with, i.e., appropriately represents, what is the case in reality. As one wag has said, "Truth is telling it like it is."

Falsity, on the correspondence view, is a condition or state of affairs which exists when a statement of what is the case is not the case. Lies are deliberate falsehoods, i.e., lies are falsehoods intentionally presented as truths. Of course, falsehoods and lies can be expedient (for examples, think of Nazi and Soviet propaganda, Watergate, Enron, Bernie Madoff, some political promises, etc.), but this doesn’t mean they are true.

Significantly, the correspondence view of truth allows us to distinguish between (a) what's true and (b) what works but isn't true.

Therefore, the pragmatic theory of truth is false—even though it's useful in showing us that the correspondence theory of truth is the way to go!

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, teaches philosophy at Providence College, Canada. See too Hendrik’s columns on Friedrich Nietzsche's denial of truth [Apologia, November 25, 2010] and Pontius Pilate's question "What is truth?" [Apologia, November 13, 2008].)

Mind vs. Matter?

2011-05-19T19:34:00.002-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, May 19, 2011)

Mind vs. Matter?

Physicalism is the philosophical view that the world is completely composed of matter/ energy—i.e., physical stuff. A question arises for physicalism, however: Is the conscious mind identical to the physical brain? Physicalists answer Yes. Mind-brain dualists answer No.

I am inclined to think that a weighing of the pros and cons on the issue makes the physicalist thesis problematic—and makes mind-brain dualism the way to go.

Here are a couple of pro-considerations for the view that the mind is the same thing as the brain.

Pro 1. Science has shown that there is a correlation between brain states and mind states. Clearly, there is much evidence for believing that neurological activity in the brain correlates with, say, thinking or the making of a decision.

Pro 2. Science and common sense also show that there is a dependency relationship between the brain and the mind. If the brain is sleep deprived or damaged, then the mind doesn't work very well. If the brain doesn't receive oxygen, then the activity of the mind seems very much to cease. Clearly, the mind depends on the brain.

These pro-considerations point to mind-body identity, and persuade many.

But besides the pros, there are cons or counter-considerations, too. And it seems to me (and at least a few other thinkers) that these counter-considerations outweigh the pros.

Con 1. Yes, there is a correlation between states of mind and brain states. However, as with any correlation between A and B, there are four explanatory options: (a) A causes B, (b) B causes A, (c) C causes both A and B, or (d) the occurrences of A and B are a mere coincidence.

In other words, evidence of a correlation is necessary but not sufficient grounds to establish that the mind and brain are identical or that brain states always cause mind states. Significantly, the correlation also supports the view that the mind and brain are not identical and that the mind’s activity causes brain states.

Con 2. It should be noted that the dependency of conscious mind states on brain states is not the same thing as an identity of conscious mind states and brain states. For example, in the case of a flashlight, the dependency of the light on the batteries, does not make the light identical to the batteries.

Con 3. There are good reasons for thinking that mind states and brain states are not identical. If A and B have two different properties, then, as a matter of logic, A is not identical to B. (If Albert is 6 feet tall, and if the burglar is 5 feet tall, then Albert is not the burglar.)

It turns out that brain states are third-person investigatable (an objective property), but consciousness is first-person investigatable only (a wholly subjective property), so brain states are not identical to conscious mind. Also, consciousness has the property of intentionality (i.e., “of-ness,” “about-ness”; i.e., we think of X, we think about X), but brain states do not have this property, so brain and mind are not identical.

This suggests that conscious mind is a wholly different metaphysical category than physical brain.

Con 4. There is some evidence for disembodied existence of mind. For example, some near-death experiences—a.k.a. out-of-body experiences—strongly suggest that there is something non-physical to us. In these cases an empirical observation was made by an apparently dead individual, the details of the observation (e.g., a running shoe on the hospital roof, or a conversation in another location) were verified by others, and the best explanation of the observer's knowledge is an out-of-body experience.

Con 5. There is evidence for Jesus' resurrection. On one reasonable interpretation (of 1 Peter 3:19), Jesus went to another realm when His body was dead, and then He returned alive physically in His previously-dead-but-now-resurrected body. For Christians, Jesus is the model human being, so on this interpretation the evidence of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection suggests the non-identity of mind and brain.

In view of the previous pros and cons, it seems to me that mind-brain duality is reasonable to believe.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Manitoba, Canada.)

Slippery Slope Arguments (Part 2)

2011-04-28T20:30:00.005-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, April 28, 2011)

Non-Fallacious Logical-Legal Slippery Slope Arguments

A slippery slope argument is an argument that claims a particular action shouldn't be taken because this action will result in a series of events which will land us in a place that's bad or disastrous. The slippery slope fallacy occurs when the argument's alleged links between the individual events in the series lack evidence or are implausible. Sometimes slippery slope arguments are fallacious, sometimes not.

Today I will look at two non-fallacious, logical-legal slippery slope arguments.

First, I will set out a fun fictional example having to do with the college at which I work. Then I will set out a serious, possibly non-fictional example having to do with a moral issue in contemporary Canadian politics.

1. Fun fictional example.

Let's say that I approach my college president and propose that our college should give philosophy students the right to free tuition if they choose to accept it. My reason: philosophy students are people who must think very hard and aren’t guaranteed jobs after graduation.

There would be a slippery slope effect here of a logical-legal sort, for sure!

Once the rest of the student body heard about this proposal, students would appeal to a principle of fairness (and would be motivated by greed perhaps) and would argue that all students should receive free tuition, not just philosophy students. Why? Because all students must think very hard and none are guaranteed jobs.

In other words, if thinking hard and having no guarantee of a job after graduation are sufficient grounds for a student to receive free tuition, then whether a student is taking anthropology, business, history, philosophy, psychology—or whatever—doesn’t make a relevant difference. The principle of fairness is fundamental, and the differences between academic disciplines, though real, are incidental. Fairness demands consistency.

Thus, if my college gives philosophy students free tuition on the basis of hard thinking and lack of a job guarantee, then, in the name of fairness and consistency, the college should ensure that all students receive free tuition.

If my boss doesn't want to be unfair or inconsistent (and doesn't want our college to go broke), then he shouldn't give philosophy students the proposed deal.

Our lesson: The above non-fallacious, logical-legal slippery slope argument ensues because the reason behind my proposal justifies much more than intended.

2. Serious possibly non-fictional example.

Now, let's say a Canadian politician argues that we should give terminally ill patients the legal right to physician-assisted suicide (PAS). Why? Because, our politician argues, we should respect the personal autonomy of those who suffer—i.e., we should grant those who suffer the freedom to choose PAS.

Also, our politician argues, there is no need to worry about the spread of PAS to other contexts, because we can set up legal safeguards so only the terminally ill will have the right to PAS.

With all due respect to our politician, however, we should notice that here too is a danger of a non-fallacious logical-legal slippery slope.

Law courts will do what law courts do: promote consistency. Couple this fact with the fact that the fundamental principle to which our politician appeals is the principle that the sufferer has the right to choose PAS.

From these facts, it’s easy to imagine a lawyer arguing that the choice of the person who suffers is fundamental—most important—and so the importance of the context of terminal illness is secondary.

Surely, or so the lawyer's argument would go, if someone is suffering from something other than a terminal illness, say, chronic back pain, then that person should also have the right to PAS.

In addition, or so another lawyer's argument would go, the disabled person who suffers from depression should also have the right to PAS.

And so on.

After all, as the lawyers would argue, the right of the sufferers to choose to end their suffering is a fundamental principle, and the differences between the contexts of terminal illness, chronic back pain, and depression, though real, are merely incidental. It would only be fair and consistent to apply this fundamental principle to all who suffer. Thus, the lawyers would argue, all sufferers should have the freedom to choose PAS.

In other words, if we accept the principle of the autonomy of the sufferer as a justification for PAS, then a non-fallacious logical-legal slippery slope is a reasonable foreseeable outcome.

Hence, if we are concerned about the spread of PAS beyond the context of terminal illness, the politician’s argument should be rejected.

Our lesson: The politician's appeal to the principle of the autonomy of the sufferer, i.e., the principle that the sufferer has the right to choose physician-assisted suicide, justifies much more than initially intended.

The logical-legal slippery slope—when not fallacious—can be dangerous.

***

[P.S. Here is yet another example of a non-fallacious logical-legal slippery slope, which is also serious and possibly non-fictional.

Let's say that our politician argues that we should justify the legal and moral status of same-sex sexual relationships solely on the basis of love. Why? Because, our politician argues, love is a fundamental principle and so love is sufficient grounds for justifying one's choice of a sexual partner. The personal autonomy that lies at the heart of love is what's most important—and trumps all.

Should we accept this argument? As politically incorrect and insensitive as this may seem, I think we should not. Why? Because we have yet another non-fallacious logical-legal slippery slope lurking here. The politician's appeal to love justifies much more than initially intended.

Think about it. If my choice to love X is sufficient grounds for having sex with X, then, yes, X could be an adult of the same sex. But we should keep in mind that X is a place-holder: X could also be, say, a group of people (think polygamy), or X could be a child (think pedophilia).

But, our politician would argue, we could establish legal safeguards to limit X to one adult only. Yes, we could try. I strongly suspect, however, that such safeguards could be overridden by appeals to personal autonomy. If I've already accepted love as a fundamental principle—i.e., if I've already accepted the personal autonomy to choose to love in whichever way I please as a fundamental right—then, in the name of love, I should have the choice to engage in sex with whomever I want.

I know that this last possibly non-fictional, logical-legal slippery slope argument may seem silly and far-fetched, but I think that lawyers hired by proponents of having multiple wives (e.g., some Muslim and Mormon groups) or lawyers hired by NAMBLA (i.e., the North American Man-Boy Love Association) would disagree.]

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Canada.)

Slippery Slope Arguments (Part 1)

2011-04-24T12:58:00.005-05:00

Thanks to Marla Williamson for the above work of art.

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, April 21, 2011)

Slippery Slope Arguments: Sometimes fallacious, sometimes not

A slippery slope argument is an argument that claims a particular action shouldn't be taken because this action will result in a series of other actions which will land us in a place that's bad or disastrous. The slippery slope fallacy occurs when the argument's alleged causal connections between the individual actions in the series lack evidence or are implausible.

Sometimes the slippery slope fallacy is called the domino fallacy. As logician T. E. Damer points out, "The name of the domino fallacy derives from the child’s game of lining up dominoes on end about an inch apart and then pushing the first one over, causing a chain reaction of falling dominoes." Damer adds, "The chain reaction works in the child’s game, but not all events are arranged so that a falling-domino effect ensues."

Here is an example of the slippery slope/ domino fallacy (from Damer). A college professor tells the following to her students: “I do not permit questions in my class, because if I allow one student to ask a question, then everyone starts asking questions, and the first thing you know, there is not enough time for my lecture.”

In reply, it should be noted that the asking of a question by one student probably will not end up with the whole class asking questions throughout the class. A question in one student’s mind, when asked and answered, probably will satisfy other students because they too had the same question. Also, the professor can advise students who have further questions to visit her during the professor's office hours.

Here is another example of the slippery slope/ domino fallacy (slightly silly, but helpful). A parent tells his daughter not to chew gum, because if she does, she'll probably begin to smoke cigarettes, which will lead to dancing, then drugs, then theft and murder—and then a lifetime in jail.

Clearly, the causal connections between the events on this alleged slippery slope are dubious. You get the picture.

Significantly, however, not all slippery slope arguments are fallacious. Consider the following non-fallacious, slippery slope argument.

If I build a campfire directly under a tree in a dry dense forest, there will probably be a domino effect, and we'll end up with a forest fire—so I shouldn't build the campfire.

Or consider this: If I slam on the car brakes and come to a sudden and complete stop on Highway 401 near Toronto during rush hour (the 401 has been referred to as "Canada's busiest highway"), there will probably be a domino effect resulting in perhaps hundreds of collisions—so I shouldn't slam on the brakes on the 401.

Slippery slope arguments—some are fallacious, some are non-fallacious. Careful thinking is required to discern the difference.

Next week we will examine some non-fallacious, legal-logical slippery slope arguments—arguments typically found in politics. Stay tuned!

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Canada.)

Genetic Fallacy

2011-04-07T20:17:00.003-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, April 7, 2011)

Genetic Fallacy

A fallacy is a mistake in reasoning or argument. Some fallacies are so common that they have been given their own names. Today we will look at the genetic fallacy.

Philosopher J. P. Moreland explains the genetic fallacy as follows: "This fallacy occurs when someone confuses the origin [genesis] of an idea with the reasons for believing the idea and faults the idea because of where it came from (for example, because of who said it or how the idea first came to believed) and not because of the adequacy of the grounds for the idea."

For example, consider this argument (said by a critic of objective moral truth): You learned about right and wrong from your parents, so your beliefs about the reality of right and wrong should be dismissed.

In reply, let's say it's true that I learned about right and wrong from my parents. We should notice, however, that from this truth it does not follow logically that what I learned should be dismissed as false.

My parents also taught me that Ottawa is the capital city of Canada, that water freezes at 0 degrees Celsius (under normal atmospheric conditions), that the Holocaust happened, and that 2+2=4. Surely, whether we should think that a belief is true depends on whether there are good reasons for believing it, not merely on where or from whom it was learned.

C. S. Lewis writes the following as a general reply to those who are inclined to commit the genetic fallacy (Lewis had in mind the Marxists and Freudians of his time): "[Y]ou must show that a man is wrong before you start explaining why he is wrong. The modern method [of argumentation] is to assume without discussion that he is wrong and then distract his attention from this (the only real issue) by busily explaining how he became so silly."

So the question that's missed or dismissed by the critic is this: Regardless of whether my parents taught me about right and wrong—regardless of how I "became so silly"—do I have good reasons for thinking that moral truths actually exist? The fact is that I—we—do. (Take a look at philosopher Paul Chamberlain’s book Can We Be Good Without God, available in many libraries, or take a look at chapter 2 of my PhD dissertation, available online.)

The genetic fallacy would have us ignore this fact right from the get go.

Now consider another example (a criticism of Christianity, which is popular in our present postmodern era): You are a Christian because you grew up in a Christian country, but if you grew up in a Muslim country you'd probably be a Muslim—so your religious beliefs should be dismissed.

Okay, let's say it's true that I grew up in a Christian country, and let's say it's true that growing up in a Christian or Muslim country makes it probable that I would be, respectively, a Christian or a Muslim. These are interesting truths. But they're beside the point.

Whether one's Christian or Muslim beliefs should be accepted or dismissed depends on whether there are good reasons for those beliefs, not merely on where or from whom the beliefs were learned.

So the question that's missed or dismissed by the critic is this: Regardless of where I grew up—regardless of how I "became so silly"—do I have good reasons for thinking that Jesus is God and Muhammad isn't? The fact is that I—we—do. (Take a look at philosopher William Lane Craig’s books Reasonable Faith or On Guard, available in most bookstores, or take a look at the rest of my PhD dissertation.)

Again, the genetic fallacy would have us ignore this fact right from the get go.

Moreland clarifies the problem that lurks at the heart of the genetic fallacy by drawing much-needed attention to an oft-missed distinction. In answering the question—Why do you believe in x?—the genetic fallacy gains traction because people tend to confuse a psychological-sociological originating "why" with a rational-justifying "why."

To be sure, answering the why question in terms of personal or social origins is interesting and important from the point of view of psychology and sociology. Personality quirks and motives plus social and cultural contexts can and do influence what we believe—and it's good to be aware of this. (Think of Joe whose ego is so huge that he believes he can never do wrong, or think of Jane who is racist because she grew up in a society that promotes the view that one race is inferior to another.)

Nevertheless, and this point is crucial, answering the why question in terms of whether the belief is actually well grounded in truth and reason is a different, independent question—and answering this question allows us to assess the logical and truth-related merits of the psychological and sociological influences. (By discerning truth, we can know that both Joe and Jane are mistaken.)

Why do you believe in x? Answers to the psychological-sociological “why” may provide grounds to suspect that belief in x is problematic, but answers for the rational-justifying “why” must be dealt with first.

The genetic fallacy occurs, then, when one thinks that the psychological and sociological factors in an idea's discovery are the whole story when in fact there's another, more fundamental story—one that has to do with the testing and justification of the idea via truth, evidence, and critical reasoning.

What's silly is the genetic fallacy.

P.S. For further reading on the genetic fallacy, I recommend C. S. Lewis's essay "Bulverism" which can be found in his book God in the Dock. (Lewis's book is available in most libraries and bookstores; his essay is also available online).

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Manitoba, Canada.)

Fallacy of Equivocation

2011-03-17T19:20:00.002-05:00

Quantum vacuum

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, March 17, 2011)

Fallacy of Equivocation

A fallacy is a mistake in reasoning or argument. Some fallacies are so common that they have been given their own names. Today we will look at the fallacy of equivocation.

According to logician Trudy Govier, "The fallacy of equivocation is committed when a key word in an argument is used in two or more senses and the premises of the argument appear to support its conclusion only because these senses are not distinguished from each other."

In other words, the fallacy of equivocation occurs when in the course of an argument the meanings of an ambiguous word or phrase are traded unfairly to get us to accept the conclusion when in fact we shouldn’t.

Sometimes the fallacy of equivocation is easy to spot. Consider the following argument:

● Premise 1: Man is the only rational animal.
● Premise 2: No woman is a man.
● Conclusion: No woman is rational.

Clearly, something is amiss with the above argument. Assuming that both premises are true (and ignoring the possibility that, say, dolphins are also rational animals), it turns out that the argument only goes through if we don't notice that the word "man" is used in two different senses: in premise 1 "man" means humankind, and in premise 2 "man" means male.

In other words, the argument only works by trading unfairly on the ambiguity of the word "man"—and so the argument commits the fallacy of equivocation.

Consider this argument:

● Premise 1: No cat has eight tails.
● Premise 2: One cat has one more tail than no cat.
● Conclusion: One cat has nine tails.

Clearly, something is amiss here too. Yes, both premises are true. However, the argument only goes through if we fail to notice some semantic sleight of hand.

In premises 1 and 2 the words "no cat" first function as a description of the non-existence of a particular entity (i.e., "no cat" means zero cats); but then, when the argument invites us to accept the conclusion, the words "no cat" instead function as a name or label for an existing entity that has properties (i.e., a cat with eight tails). Hence, the equivocation fallacy occurs.

Now consider this argument (which members of the Philosophy Undergraduate Society at the University of Windsor proudly displayed on their T-shirts a few years ago):

● Premise 1: Nothing is better than sex.
● Premise 2: Philosophy is better than nothing.
● Conclusion: Philosophy is better than sex.

Is something amiss here? Happily, yes. What's the problem? I will let the reader figure this one out! (Hint: the problem is similar to that of the previous fallacious equivocation wherein non-existence is given a name and mistakenly treated as if an existent being.)

Sometimes the fallacy of equivocation is not so easy to spot (and not as fun).

For the next example, some context and background information will be helpful.

Context/background:

An important argument for God's existence is the kalam cosmological argument. The kalam argument states the following: Whatever begins to exist has a cause for its beginning (because out of nothing, nothing comes); the universe began to exist (witness the evidence for the Big Bang); therefore, the universe has a cause for its beginning—a cause that is very powerful (because it produced the universe) and transcendent (because it brought all matter/energy, space, and time into being in the first place and so is beyond matter/energy, space, and time).

So far, so good.

Now consider the following argument set out by some philosophers and scientists as an objection to the philosophical principle that out of nothing nothing comes (and thus as an objection to the kalam cosmological argument):

● Premise: Sub-atomic particles “pop” into existence out of nothing when a vacuum fluctuation occurs.
● Conclusion: Something can come out of nothing!

Thus, according to this objection, the universe began causelessly out of nothing—and so there's no need for God.

Should we be persuaded by this objection? Answer: No.

In the above argument the “nothing” in the conclusion means no being whatsoever, but the "nothing" in the premise means quantum vacuum. Significantly, however, a quantum vacuum is not nothing when "nothing" is understood in the second sense of having no being.

Why? Because a quantum vacuum is a seething, fluxing sea of energy—which means it is something, not nothing. Hence, the objection commits the fallacy of equivocation.

Thus, the truth of the philosophical principle out of nothing nothing comes remains, as does the soundness of the kalam cosmological argument.

The fallacy of equivocation is sometimes a fun fallacy, but at other times it's fanciful philosophical foolishness.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Canada.)

ET CETERA

2011-03-01T13:24:00.011-06:00

Friedrich Nietzsche (1906) by Edvard Munch (1863-1944)

ET CETERA
From time to time, Apologia will present ET CETERA to inform readers of some goings-on relating to the life and work of the author of this column or to share some of the author's Apologia-related thoughts that aren't published in the column itself. Today, readers are invited to check out this Providence College News Release.

P.S. For some fine philosophical commentary concerning the above item (philosophical commentary done in a wonderfully creative and humorous Hulk-Hogan-meets-Sylvester-Stalone style), readers are also invited to check out Mark Jensen's Nietzsche Vs. VDB.

Faith statements impinge on academic freedom? (Part 4 of 4)

2011-02-24T19:19:00.006-06:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, February 24, 2011)

Faith statements impinge on academic freedom? (Part 4 of 4)

Over the past few years, the Canadian Association of University Teachers (CAUT) has been investigating and blacklisting several Christian universities because, CAUT alleges, these schools violate academic freedom. According to CAUT, culprit schools “have imposed [on faculty] a requirement of a commitment to a particular ideology or statement [of faith] as condition of employment,” and so such schools “cannot be practicing academic freedom.” Thus, or so CAUT would have us believe, the blacklisted Christian schools lack academic legitimacy and credibility.

Happily, last week CAUT announced that it will cease its lengthy formal investigations (which, as critics have correctly pointed out, could have been conducted in minutes simply by checking each school's website).

Unhappily, however, CAUT still plans to maintain a list of schools that require their faculty to sign a faith statement. (I say "unhappily" because CAUT's project continues to cast public suspicion on listed schools wholly in the absence of empirical evidence that the academic freedom of faculty or students in these schools has been actually impaired.)

In three previous Apologia columns (April 22, April 29, May 6, 2010), I set out three reasons for thinking that CAUT's blacklisting project is problematic. Today, I will add a fourth reason.

First, let's review my previous reasons.

Reason 1. Via its blacklisting project CAUT is thwarting academic freedom broadly conceived. That is, CAUT is denying the fact that academic freedom is enhanced if we allow sub-groups of the broader scholarly community to accept the philosophical-theological light that they believe they have discovered, allow them to band together, and allow them to use the aforementioned light as a lamp unto their collective feet. Sure, these sub-groups might be mistaken; but they might not be mistaken. Either way, there is an increase in the freedom of the broader academic community to pursue knowledge and truth—which is good.

Reason 2. CAUT is unfairly imposing its preferred philosophical-theological views onto the broader academic community. Via its blacklisting project, CAUT is assuming that no scholarly sub-community can appropriately settle on and commit to some philosophical-theological truths unless the larger academic culture approves. But this means that CAUT is granting itself a privileged philosophical-theological status (e.g., agnosticism or atheism) over and above that of the schools on the blacklist (i.e., Christian theism), and this allows CAUT—as a self-appointed theological-philosophical authority—to judge the blacklisted schools to be academically inferior. Because this philosophical-theological posturing is done without argument or debate, CAUT is engaged in academic bullying.

Reason 3. In an important sense it is false that a Christian school's requirement for faculty to subscribe to a statement of faith means that such schools "cannot be practicing academic freedom." In my personal experience teaching at a Christian university college, faculty and students have the freedom to investigate—and are in fact encouraged to investigate—the faith doctrines of their particular school. Thus, faculty and students have the freedom to seek truth even under the auspices of a faith statement.

So far, so good.

Recently, I have learned of yet another good reason for thinking that CAUT's blacklisting project is problematic.

Reason 4. CAUT's major concern—that a school's requirement of faculty to adhere to a particular ideology or faith statement as a condition of employment may impinge on the outcome of an academic investigation and thereby impinge on academic freedom—is a concern for all schools, not just Christian schools.

To support reason 4, I will quote (with permission) from an email sent to me by my friend and colleague, Dr. Kevin Flatt, assistant professor of history at Redeemer University College. (Aside: When Kevin was a teenager, he was a student in one of my Sunday school classes—yes, the pupil quickly becomes the master!)

According to Dr. Flatt, "all scholarship, whether Christian or not,…involves parameters that limit academic freedom."

Dr. Flatt defends this claim with two excellent insights (so I quote in extenso here):

(1) Even secular universities impose limits on academic freedom on the basis of some (albeit minimal) shared perspective. For example, no Canadian university would allow a scholar to outright deny the historical truth of the Holocaust, or to argue that women are not full human beings, or to publish papers suggesting that professors should murder their students. Why? Because such "freedom" would strike at the very basis and mission of those universities. In this way, even secular universities constrain academic freedom on the basis of a shared starting point, even if the content of that starting point differs from, and is less specific than, that of Christian universities.

(2) But even if this were not so, on an individual level, every scholar works with what [Yale philosopher] Nick Wolterstorff calls "control beliefs" (Reason within the Bounds of Religion, chap. 9) that act as self-imposed limits on what theories that scholar will even consider. For example, someone who holds the non-existence of God as a control belief will always rule out a theory that involves miraculous divine intervention in the course of events, no matter how strong the evidence in its favour (I'm preaching to the converted here, I know). Admittedly, control beliefs can be revised over time, but at any given moment, every scholar must operate within their parameters. Even if the faculty at a secular university (unlike at a Christian one) have not joined together on the basis of shared control beliefs, the individuals concerned are still operating with those beliefs. And in any case, as I argue under (1), I think the secular academy does have some shared control beliefs, whether it wants to admit it or not.

Thus, the Canadian Association of University Teachers now has four good reasons to completely halt its blacklisting project—or, as Reason 4 suggests, at least include the rest of Canada's universities on its list.

P.S. Here is a list of faculty at Canadian universities and colleges who reject CAUT's investigations concerning academic freedom at faith-mandated postsecondary institutions: Faculty Statement on CAUT.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

Faith vs. Reason?

2011-02-17T22:03:00.004-06:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(Note: Due to this article's length and the author's lack of time to revise, this installment of Apologia did not appear in this week's Carillon.)

Faith vs. Reason?

For some people, the relationship between faith and reason is like oil and water—they don't mix. On this view, religious beliefs cannot and should not be subject to rational evaluation.

I disagree with this view.

To defend my disagreement, I will look at some objections to the use of reason when it comes to matters having to do with God, then I will set out some replies.

Objections to the use of reason:

Objection 1. At the core of a religious belief system are some fundamental assumptions about the world, and these cannot be tested by reason.

Objection 2. Rational inquiry is open ended: on an ongoing basis we need to consider newly turned up bits of relevant evidence, so a proof is never had, and so a reason-based decision about God must be put off indefinitely—hence reason is of no help.

Objection 3. When it comes to God, we must make a leap of faith. Faith involves risk and commitment, and faith is purely subjective—these are different from reason.

Objection 4. God is "wholly other" (utterly transcendent) and thus beyond the capacity of reason to grasp.

Objection 5. Using reason makes reason one's God, placing reason above God—and thereby one commits idolatry.

Replies to objections (order of replies corresponds with order of objections):

Reply 1. Yes, religious belief involves fundamental assumptions about what is religiously the case (i.e., what is ultimately real and how one ought to live). But life itself also presents us with some fundamental assumptions that have to do with knowledge (a.k.a. fundamental epistemological assumptions).

Here is a list of fundamental epistemological assumptions: that there is a world; that the world is older than five minutes; that my everyday perceptions of the world are veridical (e.g., simple seeing); that with careful investigation we can know some further truths about the world (non-exhaustively and fallibly); that some logical principles are universally valid (e.g., the principle of non-contradiction, modus ponens, modus tollens, disjunctive syllogism, etc.); that inductive reasoning is legitimate (e.g., empirical enumeration, inference to best explanation, argument by analogy); that whatever begins to exist has a cause (i.e., out of nothing nothing comes); that some moral propositions are universally true and known to be true (e.g., that torture for fun is morally wrong, that people have intrinsic worth).

Significantly, because these fundamental epistemological assumptions seem very much to be true, it follows that the fundamental assumptions at the core of a religious system might be tested indirectly against the known reality of the world.

To test a religious system, we can ask: If the core religious assumptions are true, what are the logical implications, that is, what should we expect in the world? Then we can look at the world to see if those implications/ expectations are satisfied/ confirmed.

Consider some core doctrines of Christianity (a.k.a. "mere Christianity"). If true, we should expect the following: that the world is real (not illusory); that the universe began a finite time ago (it's not eternal); that the universe is rational and generally law-abiding (i.e., the universe is a cosmos, not a chaos); that humans can know the world via investigation (albeit fallibly and non-exhaustively); that there is real moral value (the creation itself but human beings especially have real intrinsic worth); that we have free will (we are not material robots); that Jesus actually lived, died, and resurrected (in history). Confirmation of these expectations would count in favour of the view that’s under investigation, whereas disconfirmation would count against the view.

Reply 2. Yes, rational inquiry is open ended and so on an ongoing basis we should be open to newly turned up bits of relevant evidence—whether negatively or positively relevant—and, yes, an absolute "proof" is never had. However, it does not follow logically that we cannot make a decision about God. Indeed, a preponderance of evidence may make a decision in favour of belief and trust in God very reasonable. (Also, proofs are not the only basis for reasonable belief: there are also cumulative case arguments and inferences to best explanation.)

Reply 3. Yes, there is a leap of faith. However, it is surely better to make a leap of faith in the direction that the evidence points than not. Think of the religious group called Heaven's Gate. The people of this group placed their faith in a man who told them that there was a space craft behind a comet and that to board the space craft required suicide. Surely, because of the lack of good grounds in reality for these doctrines, such a leap of faith is silly. Now, if there are good grounds in reality for thinking that the universe points to God's existence, that Jesus' bodily resurrection occurred, and that He claimed to be God, then trusting Him is not silly.

To be sure, faith involves risk and commitment and subjectivity, but faith also involves intellectual content about an object: faith is a trust in something or in someone. Faith involves belief, trust, volition—and an object. In the case of the Christian faith, the object can be intellectually discerned and confirmed via reason (reason coupled with a humble heart that wills to serve God if God exists).

Reply 4. Whether God is "wholly other,” i.e., utterly transcendent, and therefore beyond the human capacity for understanding, may be true or it may be false—we have to check it out. The Christian view holds that God is knowable by humans (though not exhaustively so) because God reveals Himself in creation, in Scripture, in Christ. This, if true, can be checked out with the careful use of reason.

Reply 5. Philosopher Michael Peterson (et al.) addresses the point about idolatry as follows: "To the charge that testing one's faith by logic is placing logic above God, the retort might be that a really strong and sound faith involves the confidence that one's beliefs can pass any properly conducted test on the basis of logic and evidence." In other words, if such a faith passes, then logic and evidence are not above God; rather, logic and evidence would be servants of God.

Peterson adds: "Can't we, in fact, go even further than this, and say that in order to be taken seriously by a reasonable person a religious belief-system must be subjected to the tests of logical consistency and factual correctness?" If not, then why bother with the religious belief-system?

Faith and reason don't mix? Surely they do—and should.

P.S. The use of reason in thinking about God doesn't preclude mystical/subjective experience of God. However, I submit that if a mystically or subjectively experienced spirit doesn't testify that Jesus is the God described in the Bible who has come to earth as a human being—and who was killed by crucifixion and subsequently bodily resurrected—then that spirit isn't from God. This is what my reason tells me as I try to love God with my mind (intellect) as well as my heart (will and emotion).

Acknowledgements: The above quotes and several of the above insights are from Michael Peterson, William Hasker, Bruce Reichenbach, and David Basinger's Reason and Religious Belief: An Introduction to the Philosophy of Religion, 4th edition (New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), 58-61.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

It's all interpretation? (Part 2)

2011-01-27T19:29:00.003-06:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, January 27, 2011)

It's all interpretation? (Part 2)

Some contemporary thinkers hold the view that human experience of the world is wholly and inescapably interpretive. In the case of visual perception, all seeing is, according to this view, seeing as. The idea behind "seeing as" is that all seeing is filtered by the background assumptions (perspectives, histories, languages, concepts) that we bring to our investigations. It is alleged that even our experience of an everyday object—say, a dinner fork—is completely a matter of interpretation, and such interpretation varies from person to person. On this view, we cannot truly know the actual world via direct acquaintance; rather, it's interpretation all the way down.

Should we agree? I (and many other philosophers) think not.

Last time I argued that it's false that all seeing is "seeing as" (i.e., it's false that all seeing is interpretation all the way down). There is also something called simple seeing. In simple seeing an object is visually perceived but it is not classified in terms of one's conceptual scheme. This is a non-interpreted, pre-conceptual perception/awareness: visual sensations constitute the means whereby the mind directly sees the object itself. In other words, we can know the world/reality to some extent via simple seeing (a.k.a. knowledge by direct acquaintance), and then we interpret.

Today, I will set out a reductio ad absurdum argument to show again, albeit indirectly, that the interpretation-all-the-way-down view is false. (In a reductio ad absurdum argument, we assume, temporarily for the sake of argument, that the view under investigation is true; if the logical consequences of the view’s assumed truth are false or logically absurd, then it follows logically that the view under investigation is false or logically absurd, or both.)

Let’s assume, temporarily for the sake of argument, that the interpretation-all-the-way-down view is true.

Now, consider the previously-mentioned everyday eating utensil we call a fork. Also, please consider the Disney film The Little Mermaid, the story about Ariel, a little mermaid who wants to become human. (I apologize if the Disney reference seems silly here. The Disney reference comes from contemporary philosopher James K. A. Smith, who defends the interpretation-all-the-way-down view by an appeal to Ariel’s interpretation of a fork. I am going to show via reductio ad absurdum that the fork example backfires on Smith.)

When Ariel sees a fork, she calls it a "dinglehopper" and she uses it to comb her hair (much to the surprise of the humans at the dinner table). Clearly, Ariel interprets the pronged metal object as a dinglehopper (comb), whereas we interpret it as a fork. This much is true.

However (and this is where the reductio ad absurdum argument kicks in), if it's true that it's interpretation all the way down (as Smith holds), then it follows that Ariel (and the rest of us) can never know the object and its properties by simple seeing (direct acquaintance). Remember: on the view under investigation, all seeing is seeing as.

But if all seeing is seeing as, that is, if all seeing is interpretation, then the thing that is "seen" and interpreted will always be an interpretation of the thing, not the thing itself. Nor will that which is “seen” and interpreted ever be an actual property of the thing itself, because the properties themselves are also things in themselves and only the interpretations of them will be “seen.”

Remember (again): on the view under investigation, all seeing is seeing as. If all seeing were seeing as, then what we would see as the fork's shape, or rigidity, or metal would always be an interpretation of something else—not the fork's shape itself, not the fork's rigidity itself, not the fork's metal itself. That is, “the object” would be something else that would be seen as prong-shaped; it would be something else that would be seen as hard; it would be something else that would be seen as silver; and so on—without end. The actual prong shape, actual hardness, actual substance (etc.) would never be simply seen.

In other words, what the actual object is in the first place, including all of its actual properties, would never be gotten to. But this means that the actual object of interpretation, i.e., the actual thing we call a fork and Ariel calls a dinglehopper, would forever be completely and always out of the mind's reach.

So, on the interpretation-all-the-way-down view, to interpret an object X requires that X is the object of interpretation and, at the same time and in the same sense, that X is not (and never is) the object of interpretation—which is logically absurd. Reductio ad absurdum.

To drive home the significance of the above logical problem for the interpretation-all-the-way-down view, consider the following. To interpret the present words in this sentence as words requires that the reader first simply see the squiggles, i.e., simply see the actual particular shapes of the ink marks which guide the subsequent interpretation. If one never simply sees the squiggles in any sense as they actually are, i.e., one never simply sees their actual shapes, then no text-based interpretation can occur. Rather, there would be an ongoing "seeing as" with no contact with the reality of the characteristics of the squiggles themselves. Hence, my squiggles could not function as symbols that communicate the meanings I intend them to communicate; but we know that they do—as the reading of this sentence (and other well-formed sentences) attests.

Thus, it's reasonable to think (again) that the interpretation-all-the-way-down view is false.

Why am I making such a fuss about this? I have four reasons.

First, truth is important.

Second, it’s true that we know the world/ reality to some extent via simple seeing (which is, in philosophical parlance, a species of knowledge by direct acquaintance).

Third, with simple seeing we can ground our interpretations of what is true of the world in the actual world.

Fourth, it very much seems that God has revealed truth in the actual world via simply seen objects that can be interpreted as clues or signs which communicate knowledge of Him—and such clues or signs include, for starters, written reports arising from eye witnesses to Jesus' resurrected body.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

Acknowledgements: For my criticisms of the interpretation-all-the-way-down view I am indebted to the work of philosophers J. P. Moreland and R. Scott Smith. In particular, see: J. P. Moreland, Kingdom Triangle: Recover the Christian Mind, Renovate the Soul, Restore the Spirit's Power (Zondervan, 2007); R. Scott Smith, "Reflections on McLaren and the Emerging Church," in Passionate Conviction: Contemporary Discourses on Christian Apologetics, eds. P. Copan & W. L. Craig (B&H Academic, 2007), 227-241; R. Scott Smith, "'Emergents,' Evangelicals, and the Importance of Truth," in Evangelicals Engaging Emergent: A Discussion of the Emergent Church Movement, eds. W. D. Henard & A. W. Greenway (B&H Academic, 2009), 129-156. James K. A. Smith sets out the interpretation-all-the-way-down view in chapter 2 of his book, Who’s Afraid of Postmodernism? Taking Derrida, Lyotard, and Foucault to Church (Baker Academic, 2006).

It's all interpretation? (Part 1)

2011-01-06T20:57:00.003-06:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, January 6, 2011)

It's all interpretation? (Part 1)

Some contemporary thinkers hold the view that human experience of the world is wholly and inescapably interpretive. In the case of visual perception, all seeing is, according to this view, seeing as. The idea behind "seeing as" is that all seeing is filtered by the background assumptions (perspectives, histories, languages, concepts) that we bring to our investigations. It is alleged that even our experience of an everyday object is completely a matter of interpretation, and such interpretation varies from person to person. On this view, we cannot truly know the actual world via direct acquaintance; rather, it's interpretation all the way down.

Should we agree? I (and many other philosophers) think not.

Here is the first of two arguments for thinking that the interpretation-all-the-way-down view should be rejected.

Although it's true that background assumptions play an important role when we interpret the world, it very much seems not true that all seeing is "seeing as."

Significantly, as philosopher J. P. Moreland points out, "Philosophers distinguish three different kinds of seeing." (This quote and subsequent quotes are from Moreland's excellent book, Love Your God With All Your Mind [NavPress, 1997], pages 77 and 78.)

First, there is the case of simple seeing. To illustrate simple seeing, Moreland considers an ordinary case of seeing a dog, that is, a case of "having the dog directly present to you in your visual field." Moreland writes: "You don't need to have a concept of what a dog is to see one. For example, a little child could see a dog without having a concept of what a dog is supposed to be. In fact, you don't even need to be thinking about a dog to see it."

In simple seeing, then, an object is visually perceived but is not classified in terms of one's conceptual scheme. This is a pre-conceptual perception/awareness: visual sensations constitute the means whereby the mind directly sees the object itself.

Second, Moreland describes the act of seeing as as simple seeing coupled with "classifying the object of sight as an example of a mental concept." According to Moreland, "When I see a dog as a dog, I must have some concept of what it is to be a dog and apply this concept to the object I am seeing. I could not see a dog as a dog the first time I saw one since I wouldn't have the relevant concept yet. Likewise, to see a dog as my neighbor's favorite pet, I need the concepts of a neighbor, a pet, and being a favorite."

Third, Moreland describes the act of seeing that. Here one judges that the conceptual classification (the seeing as) of the object perceived (via simple seeing) is correct. According to Moreland, "If I see that the dog is my neighbor's favorite pet, I judge that this belief is true of the object I am seeing."

Clearly, seeing that presupposes seeing as, and seeing as is dependent upon the observer's conceptual scheme. (A conceptual scheme, then, is a set of concepts used for the classification of what is simply seen.) Moreover, and significantly, simple seeing is not dependent upon the observer’s conceptual scheme.

Significantly too, simple seeing lets us grow and refine our conceptual scheme as we explore and further come to know the actual objects of the world in such a way that we can see that our concepts appropriately (i.e., truly) apprehend those objects.

In other words, we can know the world/reality to some extent via simple seeing (which is a form of knowledge by direct acquaintance), and then we interpret.

Because simple seeing seems obviously true and philosophically basic (and because it lurks at the foundations of a common-sense critical realist understanding of perception, which very much seems to be the way to go in our everyday and scientific investigations of the world), the reality and truthfulness of simple seeing provides good philosophical grounds for thinking that the interpretation-all-the-way-down view—the view that all seeing is "seeing as"—is false.

Why do I think that the above defence of simple seeing is so important?

First, I think truth is important.

Also, it seems to me that with simple seeing we can ground interpretations of what is true of the world in the actual world.

Moreover, it seems to me that God has revealed truth in the actual world via simply seen objects that can be interpreted as clues or signs which communicate knowledge of Him—and such clues or signs include, for starters, written reports arising from eye witnesses to Jesus' resurrected body.

Next time I will present another argument (a reductio ad absurdum argument) for thinking that the interpretation-all-the-way-down view is false.

P.S. For more information about the muscular dog in the photo, click here.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

Skepticism concerning colours?

2010-12-16T19:17:00.003-06:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, December 16, 2010)

Skepticism concerning colours?

I hope that readers are not tiring of my recent barrage of columns wherein I challenge skepticism concerning our knowledge of the external world. I am convinced (and convicted) that knowledge of the world external to our minds is important. Why? Because we can know (albeit fallibly and non-exhaustively) some truths about the world—and these help us to know, with further investigation, some truths about God.

In an attempt to put another nail in the coffin of skepticism concerning our knowledge of the external world, today I will address yet another skeptical objection, namely, the how-do-you-know-I-see-the-same-colour-as-you objection. The idea behind this objection is that because I don't know that you see the same colours of the external world as I do, I should be skeptical of my knowledge of the external world (at least in terms of colour).

Should we succumb to the how-do-you-know-I-see-the-same-colour-as-you objection? I think not. Here are four reasons which work together as a cumulative case argument to diffuse the objection’s apparent logical force.

Reason 1. From the fact that I don’t know what Joe sees, it doesn’t follow logically that I don’t know what I see. Yes, I do not know what goes on in Joe's mind, but that doesn't mean I don't know what I know. (Think about it.)

Reason 2. From scientific investigation of the world, we know the physical world well enough to realize (a) that a colour has a particular wave length which distinguishes it from other colours, and (b) that we humans are very similarly constructed (physically), and so (c) we have some prima facie good reasons for thinking that Joe is seeing the same colour as I am.

[A brief discussion of prima facie may be appropriate here. Prima facie is Latin for "first face" or "on its first appearance." In ethics, to say that action X is one's prima facie moral duty means that X is one’s obvious moral duty and so ought to be done, though X may yield to a more pressing or weightier moral duty Y. For example, if X means keep my promise to meet my friend for lunch, and if Y means save a child drowning in the wading pool, then, in the absence of circumstances that require Y, I ought to do X. When prima facie is used in epistemology (theory of knowledge) it means that a matter P appears self-evident or obviously true and should be accepted as such, unless a more pressing consideration Q outweighs it. For example, if P means I know I have a nose on my face, and Q is a good reason for thinking I don't have a nose on my face, then, in the absence of Q, I ought to go with what's obvious, namely, P, that I know I have a nose on my face.]

So, in the absence of good reasons for thinking that Joe isn’t seeing the colour as I do, and until we know of a more pressing reason to think otherwise (e.g., good evidence that Joe is colour blind), we should go with what seems obvious, i.e., that we see the same colour in the same way.

Reason 3. To think that the logical possibility of Joe's seeing a different colour constitutes good grounds for thinking that the colour is in fact seen differently by Joe and me is to confuse bare logical possibility with epistemic probability/plausibility.

[At this juncture, a discussion of the distinction between bare logical possibility and epistemic probability/ plausibility may also be appropriate. To assert a logical possibility is merely to assert a description that hasn't got a contradiction in it. For example, that the moon is made of cheese is a logical possibility. Of course, the mere assertion of this logical possibility isn't enough to ground our belief that it is actually so. On the other hand, epistemic probability/plausibility means that X is logically possible and we have other grounds for thinking X is true. So, for example, if the claim that the moon is made of cheese is epistemically probable/ plausible, then not only is it possible that the moon is made of cheese, but also we have actual evidence of moon rocks containing significant traces of Parmesan.]

Reason 4. Following an insight from the philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889-1951), we can also point out that to imagine a doubt isn’t really to have that doubt. We can imagine, say, that the Statue of Liberty is a robot—but that's not really to believe it actually might be a robot. That is, we can imagine the doubt that the statue isn't really a statue, but that's not actually to doubt it's a statue.

So, yes, we can imagine that Joe and I see different colours, but that doesn't mean we should truly believe that Joe and I might in fact be seeing different colours. Simply put: imagining isn't doubting. To think otherwise is to confuse two distinct cognitive categories.

That's enough about skepticism (for now).

Christmas is a time when we celebrate the truth concerning the God who allows us to know Him. God has revealed Himself not only in the creation itself but also, and most clearly, in the God-man Jesus Christ—Emmanuel, God with us.

May the beautiful colours of the season add to our joy!

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

Nietzsche's Skepticism

2010-11-25T20:40:00.006-06:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, November 25, 2010)

Nietzsche's Skepticism

The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900) has influenced much contemporary philosophy by pushing it in a skeptical direction. How? Via his denial of objective truth and his emphasis on personal perspective. Today I will look at Nietzsche's views concerning truth and knowledge plus I will offer a critique.

Famously, Nietzsche asserted that "God is dead" and "we have killed him." The idea is not only that God doesn't exist but also that we have made Him irrelevant to our lives.

While some people might despair in facing an atheistic and ultimately meaningless universe, Nietzsche affirmed life. Indeed, according to Nietzsche, onto the flux that is the world, the human mind constructs order—invents interpretations—to serve the life interests and values of the individual. Moreover, there are only interpretations, no facts. Also, these interpretations are not for truth’s sake, but for survival, health, and the increased domain of our "will to power." In other words, our interpretations—i.e., our perspectives (interpretive judgments concerning facts and values grounded in our interests, background assumptions, conceptual schemes, languages)—do not correspond to reality; they are merely useful.

Appropriately, Nietzsche addresses the concept of truth: “What then is truth? A movable host of metaphors, metonymies, and anthropomorphisms….Truths are illusions which we have forgotten are illusions.” Nietzsche adds: “Truth is the kind of error without which a certain species of life could not live.” Moreover, Nietzsche writes: “There are many kinds of eyes. Even the sphinx has eyes—and consequently there are many kinds of ‘truths,’ and consequently there is no truth.”

Because different people have different styles of survival and health, which arise from their various subjective aesthetic values (tastes) coupled with the exercise of their will to power, the result is a plurality of perspectives, but no truth. Whatever interpretation serves one’s aesthetic interests in the project of affirming and enhancing one’s life is the way to go. Or so Nietzsche would have us think.

Should we agree? Surely not. Thinking people should be skeptical about Nietzsche’s denial of truth and Nietzsche’s perspectivism. Consider the following problems for Nietzsche's views.

Nietzsche’s denial of truth self-refutes. On the one hand, when Nietzsche says truth is mere metaphor or illusion, then Nietzsche’s claim, which purports to be true, is mere metaphor or illusion—i.e., not true. On the other hand, if truth is not mere metaphor or illusion, then Nietzsche’s claim is false. So if Nietzsche's claim is true, it's false, and if it's not true, it's false. Either way, Nietzsche’s denial of truth is guilty of a direct self-refutation charge—and so should be rejected.

Also, when Nietzsche says God is dead and not relevant, Nietzsche presumes that these non-existence and non-relevance claims are true—so Nietzsche’s claim about God indirectly refutes his denial of truth. Moreover, when Nietzsche sets out his will-to-power theory, he is presuming a truth position about this theory/interpretation actually being either simply true or pragmatically justified, which again indirectly refutes his denial of truth. Furthermore, when Nietzsche claims that there are only interpretations and no facts, he presupposes this claim to be in fact true, once again indirectly refuting his denial of truth.

Nietzsche’s perspectivism is similarly problematic. On the one hand, if there is no truth, then perspectivism isn’t true. On the other hand, if there are only perspectives (interpretations), then the thesis that there are only perspectives is a perspective too—one among many. So why go with it?

In other words, as philosopher Paul Copan points out, perspectivism faces a dilemma: “The perspectivalist either (A) says something trivial and thus not worth paying attention to (‘it’s all perspective, but that’s just my own individual perspective’), or (B) contradicts himself (‘it’s all perspective—and I’m speaking for all perspectives—so if you disagree, you’re wrong’).” Either way, perspectivism falters.

But perhaps Nietzsche (or a present-day postmodern disciple of Nietzsche) might reply that there is a missing option: (C) it’s all perspective, but it’s pragmatic for us all to accept perspectivism, for the sake of life. It turns out that this option is problematic too.

First, if C is set out as a truth and not merely a useful claim, then C self-refutes. That is, C would be set out as a non-perspectival truth claim about the usefulness of perspectivism, a claim that transcends perspectives, which C precludes (because, according to C, it’s all perspective).

Second, if C is not set out as a perspective-transcending truth, then the result is a debilitating infinite regress. That is, for us to accept C, C too must presume a perspective that makes it pragmatic for us all to accept it; but, then, that perspective must presume another perspective which makes it pragmatic for us to accept the perspective about perspectives; but, then, that other perspective…and so on. In other words, there is an infinite regress that makes C unintelligible.

So, if option C is the case, then either there is a self-refutation or an infinite regress. Either way, C falters too.

In other words, Nietzsche’s claim that it’s all perspective, all interpretation, doesn’t hold.

Therefore, Nietzsche’s perspectivism does not block our knowledge of the world. As a matter of fact, the obvious remains: there are truths, there are facts, and many of these can be known (albeit fallibly and non-exhaustively).

Significantly, these known truths and facts serve as the ground for interpretation to occur in the first place, and this allows us to do science, history, natural theology, etc.—and apologetics.

P.S. The above column is a slightly revised excerpt from my article, "Awakening from the Nightmare: A Critical Overview of Friedrich Nietzsche's Philosophy," which will be published in Christian Research Journal, Volume 34, Number 01 (January/ February 2011):34-41. If Apologia readers are interested in reading the whole of my article on Nietzsche (along with some additional apologetics-related articles), please be advised that Christian Research Journal can be purchased here.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

Radical Skepticism (Part 4)

2010-11-04T21:27:00.012-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, November 4, 2010)

Radical Skepticism, Part 4: Linguistic Skepticism

Linguistic skepticism is a version of radical skepticism which says that we can neither know nor communicate objective truth about the world because of the distorting effects of language.

Today I will set out linguistic skepticism, plus offer a critique.

According to linguistic skepticism (which lurks behind some postmodern philosophizing), we think only in language, and language refers only to other language, so language is a “prison” (of signifiers) that keeps us from knowing anything outside language. Because there is no reference to an extra-linguistic world, and because words continually refer to each other, there is a never-ending deferral of meaning. Or, if there is a reference to the extra-linguistic world, that reference is clouded by our language, because vocabularies differ from culture to culture as well as reflect the purposes and perspectives of those cultures. The semantics (word meanings) and syntax (grammatical structure) of languages are social constructions (cultural creations), so the way people understand reality is dependent upon culture, which varies.

Consequently:

• There is no objective truth that can be actually known and communicated; each community merely has its "story" or "narrative" or set of "language games."
• There is no objective element to rationality; we reason in language, which is wholly dependent on, and varies with, culture.
• There are no objectively true ethics; values and moral principles are also wholly relative to language and culture.
• Power rules; the dominating cultural group ultimately controls the language (wittingly or unwittingly), so it determines “truth,” rationality, and ethics.

Thus (or so the argument goes) we should be radically suspicious of alleged knowledge of the external world.

Should we be persuaded by linguistic skepticism? I think not, for seven reasons.

First, and most importantly, the linguistic skeptic’s basic view of language is false. To be sure, language often refers to other language (check any dictionary) and language sometimes clouds our references to the actual world (check the flyers in your newspaper). However, it is simply not the case that language is completely defined by other language. There is such a thing as ostensive definition, i.e., we define our words by physically pointing at the extra-linguistic thing/s to which we intend our words to refer, and we can communicate such definitions without insurmountable difficulty.

Think of snow. We are not limited by language in our descriptions of it. We can increase our vocabulary for describing snow to reflect snow's extra-linguistic properties (e.g., its powdery nature, granularity, slushiness, stickiness, etc.). We can point to such properties, and, if necessary, we can even invent words or combine linguistic qualifiers with our words for snow to reflect a reality/dimension about snow that other observers have missed (as Eskimos seem to have done because of their attentiveness to snow).

Language, then, isn't a "prison" that always keeps us from reality; there isn’t an endless deferral of meaning. We can know reality truly (albeit fallibly and non-exhaustively), and reality can inform our language (if we are careful in our investigations). And so we can communicate accurate descriptions about the extra-linguistic world (at least sometimes).

Second (and closely related to the first point), although the semantics (word meanings) and syntax (grammatical structure) of languages are not absolutely fixed (i.e., they are contingent social constructions), it does not follow that our understanding of reality depends wholly on language and so is wholly socially constructed. Yes, labels and how they are used are in fact dependent on the language system in use and are in a sense arbitrary. The word “dog” is in fact an arbitrary collection of letters (in France “chien” is used, in the Netherlands “hond”). Also, the semantics and grammar we use with the word are conventional (culturally dependent, not fixed absolutely).

Nevertheless, such labels can refer successfully to extra-linguistic entities. Think of the dog down the street. Clearly, the dog itself is not a mere social construction—as the torn pant leg will attest. In other words, relativity of term selection and use does not mean that language cannot clearly refer to external reality nor that external reality has no clear say (or bite).

Third, we can legitimately ask: Is there really no objective truth? To answer this question, it may be helpful to look to Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900). Famously, Nietzsche wrote the following: “What then is truth? A movable host of metaphors, metonymies, and anthropomorphisms… Truths are illusions we have forgotten are illusions.”

We should think about Nietzsche's claim. When Nietzsche says truth is mere metaphor or illusion, then his claim, which purports to be true, is mere metaphor or illusion—in other words, not true. But if truth is not mere metaphor or illusion, then Nietzsche’s claim is false. Either way, Nietzsche’s denial of truth is guilty of a direct self-refutation charge, and so should be rejected.

The fact of the matter is that there is something called simple truth. Simple truth is the (correspondence) notion of truth expressed eloquently by Aristotle: “to say of what is that it is, and of what is not that it is not, is true.” We are all aware of this notion of truth, and we all use it in everyday life and in science: e.g., it's true that my desk is made primarily of wood; it's true that water freezes at 0° Celsius (under normal atmospheric conditions); etc.

Fourth, it is doubtful that we think only in linguistic terms. Yes, we often do think with language. However, we have all had the experience of realizing that words sometimes don’t properly express our ideas—which suggests that at least some of our thoughts are pre-linguistic. Also, many of us have had the experience of thinking in terms of non-linguistic images or pictures, which we later express in language, using, if needed, new language or a new combination of old language. (My PhD work was an experience of this.)

Fifth, the claim that rationality is wholly relative to the community/tribe is false. Yes, different cultures have different worldviews or philosophical/religious assumptions that influence their interpretations of what is real. Nevertheless, there are core elements of rationality that are independent of culture and can be used (along with our knowledge of truth) to test our culture’s assumptions.

For example, the principle of non-contradiction is a fundamental principle of logic applicable to all. The principle of non-contradiction states that nothing can both be and not be, at the same time and in the same respect. Upon reflection, this principle can be seen to be necessarily true. Can anyone be taller and not taller than his/her neighbour, at the same time and in the same respect?

Moreover, there exist various argument forms that are deductively valid and thus applicable to all, too. Consider the valid argument form modus ponens as instantiated by the following argument: If Fido is a dog, then Fido is mortal; Fido is a dog; therefore Fido is mortal. The argument is deductively valid everywhere and always. ("Deductively valid" means that whenever the premises are true, the conclusion must be true too.)

Sixth, that moral relativism is true can be seriously challenged. Yes, some behavioural norms vary from culture to culture (think of family honour, rules of the road). But surely, (former Colonel) Russell Williams’ murder of two women is wrong, period. Surely, Josef Fritzl’s 24-year imprisonment and ongoing rapes of his daughter are wrong, period. Surely, poking pins into a baby’s eyes for fun is wrong for everyone, everywhere, always.

Seventh, the fact that language and power are often intertwined is grounds for caution, not radical skepticism. People who have power—e .g., politicians—might use words that carry persuasive emotional appeals rather than truth: e.g., “only non-progressive people vote for [the politician you like the least].”

But the claim that language is wholly a power play and thus not capable of communicating knowledge is false. The truth or falsity of sentences depends on the reality of the world, not power agendas. That’s why we are able to check up on power-mongering politicians to hold them accountable. That’s why we can also check the claims of scientists and historians.

Moreover, if (contrary to fact) language were wholly a power play, then we should be skeptical of the linguistic skeptic’s arguments—because he/she would be merely using language to exert power over us.

In sum, we should thank the linguistic skeptic for encouraging us to be careful with language, because, yes, sometimes our language is imprecise, unclear, ambiguous, emotionally loaded, false, misleading, misused for socio-political ends, etc. Nevertheless, the fact remains that language need not and does not always blind us to truths about the extra-textual world, nor does it keep us from communicating those truths with a reasonable degree of accuracy.

Thus, because of its exaggeration of the problems associated with language, linguistic skepticism is deeply problematic and should be rejected.

It turns out that we can know and communicate much about the extra-linguistic world, albeit fallibly and non-exhaustively.

Significantly, this opens the door to the possibility of knowledge about God (or at least reasonable belief about God) and communication of this knowledge based on what God might happen to reveal via the external world, whether God's revelation is via the heavens declaring His glory or via Scripture's pages presenting information about the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

(For my Apologia columns on evidence for God revealed in the world generally and in Jesus specifically, look here.)

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

Radical Skepticism (Part 3)

2010-10-14T20:49:00.008-05:00

The above diagram is from Philosophy for Beginners, by Richard Osborne, illustrated by Ralph Edney (New York: Writers and Readers Publishing, 1992), p. 104.

APOLOGIA

By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, October 14, 2010)

Radical Skepticism, Part 3: Kantian Skepticism
Radical skepticism concerning the external world is the philosophical view that we cannot have accurate knowledge about the physical reality that exists outside our minds. If radical skepticism were true, then we could not know the external world. Moreover, if God were to exist, we could not know the external world's revelation of God, whether God's revelation is via the heavens declaring His glory or via Scripture's pages presenting information about Jesus Christ.

There are at least four types of radical skepticism. Last times we looked at funky/pop skepticism and sensory skepticism, and we found them to be problematic. Today we will look at Kantian skepticism, and we will see that it too is problematic.

Kantian skepticism is inspired by the epistemology (theory of knowledge) of the German philosopher Immanuel Kant (1724-1804).

According to Kant, all our knowledge begins with sensory experience, but the human mind, via its conditioners of sense-experience and its categories of thought, makes a significant contribution to this knowledge. In fact, these conditioners and categories determine for us what we can experience, and they shape this experience. Using Kant’s terminology, all we can perceive is phenomena (what our mind has conditioned and categorized), not noumena (the things themselves).

In effect, our mental conditioners and categories are like rose-tinted glasses. The glasses project pink onto all we see. Similarly, our mental conditioners project space and time onto our experience. Also, via our mind’s category of, say, causality, we project causation onto the events we experience. We project cause onto, say, a pool cue hitting a pool ball, and thereby we “know” that the cue “causes” the ball’s movement. Also, via the mind’s category of substance, we project the notion of material stuff onto what appears to be, say, a brick. We do the same with various other mental categories, such as existence. (According to Kant, there are twelve such categories.)

Better yet, think of our mental conditioners and categories as a meat-grinder/sausage-making machine. The phenomena of experience would be constituted by the ground meat (meat which ultimately is noumenal); what we know—i.e., the phenomena, which are the products of the shaping of the conditioners and categories—would be the sausages; the noumena, what is real, would be (besides the meat that’s been shaped into sausages and is only known as sausages) the stuff that does not fit into the grinder (e.g., the table, meat cutting tools, the butcher, bicycles, suspension bridges, etc.). So, according to this Kantian view of knowledge, no matter how much we grind, we cannot know the external world.

Should we be persuaded by the Kantian version of radical skepticism? I think not, for four reasons.

First, if Kantian skepticism is true, then science’s search for causal connections/laws ultimately is a search for connections/laws not really in the world but in our heads—which is plainly false.

Second, as philosopher Jim Leffel astutely observes: “The success of scientific technology is a strong argument that our perceptions of the world are relatively accurate.” Think of sending rockets to the moon, genetic testing for cancer, laser eye surgery, and the like. Leffel adds: “We couldn’t do these things without an essentially reliable correspondence between our ideas of reality and reality itself.”

Third, for Kantian skeptics to perceive that the mind cannot perceive things as they are requires that the mind can. Apparently, the skeptic can stand outside the meat-grinder/sausage-making machine to tell us about it. But the skeptic should only see sausages, not a meat grinder, meat, etc. Surely, if the skeptic can have this “outside” view, then so can everyone. The view is self-defeating.

[The previous point can be argued more carefully as follows. The Kant-inspired skeptic holds to the thesis that the world is misperceived by humans via their coloured and distorted concepts of it (hereafter, this thesis will be referred to as the Kantian thesis). In other words, the Kantian thesis has to do with a particular aspect of the world: i.e., that humans in fact misperceive the world via their concepts. Significantly—to gain traction—Kantian skepticism must involve an admission that we can know, via our concepts, that the Kantian thesis is true. However, this means that the skeptic presupposes an alternative non-Kantian thesis, a thesis which holds that humans, via their concepts, actually do know the world in a non-coloured, non-distorting way. Now, because this alternative thesis is not self-contradictory (and thus not knocked out of the explanatory competition right at the start); and because the Kantian thesis requires that the alternative thesis is true (albeit with respect to a limited domain); and because there seems to be no overriding reason to limit the domain of the alternative thesis in the way the Kantian thesis does: we can conclude that the doubt cast by the Kantian thesis onto observation is seriously weakened. But this means that it is quite reasonable to accept as accurate the everyday evidence that our observations of the everyday/scientific sort very apparently and very often are accurate.]

Fourth, Kant’s theory of knowledge faces some other deep problems. The categories of the understanding are supposed to apply to phenomena, not noumena. However, the category of causation is applied to noumena (as the cause of the phenomena). Also, the category of existence is applied to noumena too (noumena is said to exist). And so on. In other words, Kant’s view is contradictory in some of its crucial tenets.

Thus, it’s reasonable not to succumb to radical Kant-inspired skepticism. We can know the external world, albeit fallibly and non-exhaustively. Significantly, this opens the door to knowledge of God based on the evidence that the world provides.

Next: Linguistic skepticism.

P.S. The above column is a slightly revised excerpt from my larger article, "Reasonable Skepticism about Radical Skepticism," Christian Research Journal, Volume 31, Number 5 (2008): 30-38.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, Ph.D., is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

Radical Skepticism (Part 2)

2010-09-23T19:37:00.005-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, September 23, 2010)

Radical Skepticism, Part 2: Sensory Skepticism
Radical skepticism concerning the external world is the philosophical view that we cannot have accurate knowledge about the physical reality that exists outside our minds. If radical skepticism were true, then we could not know the external world. Moreover, we could not know the external world's revelation of God, whether God's revelation is via the heavens declaring His glory or via Scripture's pages presenting reports of empirical evidence about Jesus Christ.

Should we be persuaded by radical skepticism? I think not.

There are at least four types of radical skepticism. Last time we looked at funky/pop skepticism. Today we will look at sensory skepticism.

Sensory skepticism tells us that we cannot know the external world because our senses deceive us. (This species of skepticism, like the dream hypothesis discussed in my previous column, is inspired by the philosopher René Descartes [1596–1650].)

To understand the force of sensory skepticism, consider the following examples. While rowing my boat, I put an oar into the water, but then the oar appears bent. While walking in the countryside, I see a flat wall on a distant farm building, but as I get closer the wall turns out to be curved. While strolling along railroad tracks, I see that the metal rails look straight and parallel to each other, but then on the horizon they appear to meet. While driving my car on a hot summer day, I see water on the road ahead, but as I continue to drive I observe that the road is dry. While volunteering as a lab rat for a psychology researcher, I see a red six of hearts as the researcher flashes a playing card, but later the researcher reveals that it was a red six of spades.

Clearly, my senses do deceive me. Therefore (or so the argument goes), my senses should not be trusted.

There are three reasonable criticisms that can be set out against radical sensory skepticism.

First, always does not follow logically from sometimes. The fact that we are sometimes deceived by our senses does not mean that we are always deceived by them.

Second, to know that our senses sometimes deceive us requires that they sometimes or often do not. Indeed, for us to discern that I mistakenly think that the oar is bent, that the wall is flat, that the tracks do not remain parallel, that the road is wet, or that the card is a red six of hearts requires that we have clear and accurate sensory knowledge. It presupposes that we know—accurately—that the oar is in fact straight, that the wall is in fact curved, that the tracks are in fact parallel, that the road is in fact dry, that the card is in fact a red six of spades. The argument of the sensory skeptic, then, requires as legitimate and true what it purports to show is not legitimate and true. It self-refutes.

Third, because the argument for sensory skepticism very apparently fails, our senses’ prima facie veridicality—that is, their very apparent truthfulness—remains. In other words, the burden of proof belongs to those who deny the obvious, so the senses are innocent until proven guilty.

It is reasonable, therefore, to go with what our senses tell us about the world, as long as we have no overriding reason to doubt them, and as long as we are careful.

How does this relate to Christianity? Significantly, it turns out that the reports concerning Jesus' resurrection tell us that the witnesses carefully used their senses to ground their belief. According to the New Testament record, the witness testimony has do with that "which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands" (1 John 1:1). Also, this record tells us that the resurrected Jesus appeared to individuals and variously sized groups (1 Cor. 15:3-8), was seen to eat fish (Luke 24:41-43), invited physical touch (John 20:27), plus talked with the witnesses (Matthew 28:9-10, 16-20), all over a period of several weeks (Acts 1:3). The witnesses were so convinced by the proofs of the physical reality of what their senses perceived—proofs that Jesus was physically alive after His death—that they testified to the resurrected Jesus in spite of persecution and suffering.

If radical sensory skepticism were true, then the witnesses' suffering for the truth of what they heard, saw, and touched—so we could reasonably believe their reports—would be in vain. Happily, radical sensory skepticism is not true.

Next: Kantian skepticism.

P.S. The above column is a slightly revised excerpt from my larger article, "Reasonable Skepticism about Radical Skepticism," Christian Research Journal, Volume 31, Number 5 (2008): 30-38.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, located in Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

Radical Skepticism (Part 1)

2010-09-02T17:06:00.008-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, September 2, 2010)

Radical Skepticism, Part 1: Funky/Pop Skepticism
Radical skepticism concerning the external world is the philosophical view that we cannot have accurate knowledge about the physical reality that exists outside our minds. If radical scepticism were true, then we could not know the external world. (Moreover, we could not know the external world's revelation of God, whether God's revelation is via the heavens declaring His glory or via Scripture's pages presenting truth about Jesus Christ.)

Should we be persuaded by radical scepticism? I think not.

There are at least four types of radical scepticism. Today we will look at funky/pop skepticism (my label). Funky/pop scepticism is probably best explained by considering some examples. (The examples are a bit weird, hence funky. Also, contemporary popular culture promotes the notion, hence pop.)

Consider the movie The Matrix. In this story what we perceive to be real is merely a computer-generated illusion, but in actuality, each of us is floating in an amniotic-sac-like pod with our nervous systems and brains wired into a common virtual reality. Whatever we sense—that is, whatever we think we sense—is merely what a supercomputer programs for us to sense. Nothing we see, hear, smell, taste, or touch is real.

Prior to The Matrix, philosophers entertained the possibility that we are merely brains in vats, kept alive by a mad scientist who feeds us patterns of electrical impulses which mimic our sensory organs.

Consider also the possibility that you are at this very moment dreaming. This example originates with René Descartes (1596–1650) and has been recently revived in the movie Inception. Whatever you see, hear, smell, taste, touch—and read—is simply part of your dream.

How do you know that, right now, you are not in something like The Matrix? Or that you are not a brain in a vat? Or that you are not dreaming?

I might answer that I believe I am not in The Matrix because I haven’t yet met agent Smith. (Smith, according to The Matrix, is a representative of the supercomputer.) The skeptic responds that the supercomputer wants to keep me in the dark.

Or I might argue that I am not a brain in a vat because I can feel my skull with my hands. The skeptic answers that the mad scientist has wired me to perceive that I am touching my skull when in fact I’m not really touching anything.

Or let’s say that I argue that I’m pretty sure that I’m not dreaming because I heard my alarm go off this morning. The skeptic answers that it’s not at all unusual for one to hear one’s alarm go off in one’s dream.

Alarmingly (sorry), any evidence that I present against the skeptic can be subsumed under the Matrix hypothesis, or brain-in-a-vat hypothesis, or dream hypothesis.

Should I give up my knowledge of the external world?

Answer: No.

There is a reasonable way to answer the funky/pop skeptic. In fact, there are five ways, which together constitute a formidable cumulative case argument.

First, we can point out, following the philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889–1951), that to imagine a doubt is not really to doubt. I can imagine that I am in a computer-generated world, but that doesn’t mean I really believe it. Simply put: imagining isn’t doubting. To think otherwise is to confuse two distinct cognitive categories.

Second, we can point out that if one were to be convinced of any of the above skeptical hypotheses, then one would be confusing logical possibility with plausibility/probability. Yes, it’s logically possible that the moon is made of green cheese (i.e., there is no logical contradiction in this claim), but from this it doesn’t follow logically that the moon is actually made of green cheese. In other words, the mere logical possibility of X is not the same as an adequate justification for X; therefore, the mere possibility of doubt does not constitute sufficient grounds for doubt.

Third, we can point out that there is no compelling reason to accept any of the funky/pop hypotheses: after all, all we have is the skeptic's mere assertion (of a mere logical possibility).

Fourth, we can point out that belief in any of the funky/pop hypotheses requires a denial of many of our prior beliefs that are logically incompatible with those hypotheses. Furthermore, these prior beliefs are not without epistemic weight—they also count as contenders for knowledge.

Fifth, we can point out that if, for the sake of argument, we accept mere assertions of bare logical possibilities as sufficient grounds for the truth of those assertions, then, to be consistent, we should believe all mere assertions of logical possibilities as truths. This, however, would mean that all logical possibilities are true, which is plainly absurd.

We would have to believe that The Matrix is true, and that the brain-in-a-vat hypothesis is true, and that the dream hypothesis is true, and that The Lord of the Rings is true, and that Batman is true, and that the moon is made of cheese, and that the moon isn’t made of cheese, and…you get the picture.

In other words, rational persons can weigh the pros and cons—in this case, one pro constituted by a mere assertion of funky/pop skepticism versus five cons or counter-considerations—to conclude that it is reasonable not to believe funky/pop skepticism.

We will examine some other forms of radical scepticism next time.

P.S. The above column is a slightly revised excerpt from my larger article, "Reasonable Skepticism about Radical Skepticism," Christian Research Journal, Volume 31, Number 5 (2008): 30-38.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, Ph.D., is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

Hiatus

2010-07-23T11:46:00.006-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(July 23, 2010)

Hiatus

For reasons having to do with rest and relaxation, Apologia will cease publication for a few weeks. Have a great summer!

Best regards,
Hendrik van der Breggen

P.S. I suspect that many people are a wee bit tired of soccer, having seen lots of fine soccer in recent weeks (and, yes, I think the Netherlands should have won the 2010 FIFA World Cup). Tired or not, be sure to take four minutes to check out the best-ever soccer game here.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, teaches philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

False dichotomy fallacy (again)

2010-07-15T10:59:00.005-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, July 15, 2010)

False dichotomy fallacy (again)

The false dichotomy fallacy (a.k.a. false alternatives fallacy) is a mistake in reasoning which occurs when we assume that there are only two options, when there are actually more, yet we go on to conclude that one particular option (of the two options) must be true.

Here’s an example: Let’s say I argue that everything is either black or white, but X is not black, therefore X must be white. This is a false dichotomy fallacy because the truth of the matter is that there are shades of grey as well as shades of red, orange, green, etc.

Last time I presented some examples of the false dichotomy fallacy which are problematic with respect to ethics (i.e., physician-assisted suicide, embryonic stem cell research, experimentation on frozen human embryos). This time I will present an example that is problematic with respect to epistemology (i.e., theory of knowledge).

Consider this claim from New Testament scholar D. A. Carson (Carson doesn’t believe this claim, he merely and correctly presents it as a fallacy incurred by some thinkers he calls “hard postmodernists”): “Either we human beings can know something absolutely, perfectly, exhaustively…or we human beings can at best glimpse some small perspective on something or other without any mechanism for discovering whether our perspective is an important part of the whole, a distorted view of the whole, or a skewed view of the whole….”

In other words, either (a) we can have certain, infallible, and complete knowledge of X, or (b) we should embrace skepticism concerning knowledge of X—i.e., we can’t know X truly.

Clearly, we do not and cannot have certain, infallible, and complete knowledge (because we are not God). So, or so the (fallacious) argument goes, we should be skeptical. We cannot know. End of argument.

Significantly, however, a third alternative is missing. Consider (c): We sometimes can and do know X truly, albeit fallibly and non-exhaustively.

To support the truth of the missed third option, let X = a wooden pencil. Surely, I can know truly that there's a wooden pencil on my desk even though I don't know everything about the object I’m calling a wooden pencil. Surely, I can know truly that there's a wooden pencil on my desk even though I don't know what type of wood it's made of, what sort of hardness the lead is, what the exact thickness of the lead is, what the chemical composition of the yellow paint is, etc.

I know that the object in question is a wooden pencil by carefully observing its salient features: It's about 7 inches long, yellow, wooden, thin like other pencils, plus has a blackish lead, brownish eraser, shiny metal band.

Of course, I could be mistaken. The object could be a plastic mechanical pencil built to look like a regular wooden pencil. But the fact remains that when I examine the object, I see that it's a regular wooden pencil. In fact, when I re-check the evidence, I know it's a regular wooden pencil.

Of course, I should admit that it’s logically possible that I’m hallucinating or in a Matrix—clearly, I don’t have absolute certainty. However, I also know that mere logical possibility (such as the moon is made of cheese) isn’t sufficient grounds for actually taking seriously that the possibility may be true (that the moon is in fact made of cheese). That is, I know that mere logical possibility (i.e., a description that isn’t internally contradictory) isn’t the same as epistemic plausibility or probability (i.e., an evidence-grounded knowledge claim).

Of course too, when I look at X’s features, I also don’t know exactly how I know that X is a wooden pencil. Presumably, light reflects off the pencil’s surfaces onto my retinae, which then send a neurological message to my brain, which in turn let’s me see the pencil plus classify its properties. Whether this story of how I know is correct or not, I know the following philosophical fact: Even though I don’t know how I know the pencil, I know that I know the pencil. That I know is more basic, knowledge-wise, than understanding how I know.

Thus, it’s reasonable to think that I sometimes can and do know X truly, even though my knowledge isn't exhaustive, isn’t perfect, and isn’t absolute. I know some things truly, even though I'm fallible and limited.

Happily, via the doing of various types of critical thinking—e.g., the sciences, history, New Testament studies, philosophy, etc.—I can know even more things, or at least come to a reasonable belief concerning those things, albeit fallibly and in a limited sort of way.

The false dichotomy fallacy—it sometimes takes careful thinking not to be fooled by it.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, teaches philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

False dichotomy fallacy

2010-07-01T12:48:00.005-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, July 1, 2010)

False dichotomy fallacy

A fallacy is a mistake in reasoning. Some fallacies are so common that logicians have given them names. Today we will look at the false dichotomy fallacy.

Logician Trudy Govier defines a false dichotomy as follows: “An either/or split that omits alternatives.” Govier adds: “to think that everything is either black or white would be to believe in a false dichotomy.” Of course, the truth of the matter is that there are shades of grey as well as shades of red, orange, yellow, green, and so on.

The false dichotomy fallacy is sometimes also called the false alternatives fallacy. Why? Because, as logician Edward Damer explains, “[t]his fallacy consists in assuming too few alternatives and, at the same time, assuming [mistakenly] that one of the suggested alternatives must be true.”

Some examples may be helpful.

Let’s say that I tell you it must be either hot or cold outside today. This is a false dichotomy because there are other alternatives that are omitted. It could simply be warm.

Or consider this. Years ago I heard a shrewd if not somewhat unscrupulous businessman speculate on how Orange Julius could improve its business. (Orange Julius sells delicious frothy fruit drinks which, in the 1980s, could be made even frothier and more delicious—and more expensive—by adding a raw egg into the blender.)

To boost revenue, the businessman (who, for the record, was not an OJ employee) suggested that Orange Julius staff should ask each customer: “Would you like one egg or two?” The hope was that customers would spend more money because of their failure to realize that there is a third (less expensive) option: No eggs.

The false dichotomy fallacy can be much more problematic morally.

In presentations of what to do with terminally ill patients we are often presented with only two options: physician-assisted suicide, or a lonely agonizing death. Sadly, often missing is a third alternative—i.e., palliative or hospice care—wherein a dying patient is given genuine comfort and pain is minimized.

Also, in discussions of stem cell research (which promises the almost miraculous healing of Parkinson’s Disease, Alzheimer’s, diabetes, etc.) we are sometimes presented with only two options: harvest stem cells from human embryos (which are human beings at their tiniest), or stop the research. Missing from such discussions is the realization that there are various other alternatives, such as using adult stem cells from human blood, bone-marrow, umbilical cords, and even fat—alternatives that are proving to be successful plus don’t involve killing human beings at their first stage of life.

(So not all stem cell research must be embryonic stem cell research. We can favour adult stem cell research, wherein no human being dies, yet be opposed to the morally-problematic embryonic stem cell research, wherein human beings are deliberately destroyed.)

In a conversation over what to do with frozen human embryos left over from In Vitro Fertilizations (which help infertile couples get pregnant) a scientist once presented me with two options: dump the frozen human embryos into the garbage, or do research with them.

My scientist friend was willing to do experiments on the human embryos—human beings—because, she argued, putting them into the garbage would be such a waste. We’re going to destroy them one way or the other, after all, so let’s do it in such a way that increases our stock of knowledge. Significantly, however, she neglected considering a third, more ethical alternative: i.e., making the frozen embryos available for adoption.

It turns out that such adoptions actually occur. Next time you’re online, check out the webpage for Snowflakes Frozen Embryo Adoption Program, which is a part of Nightlight Christian Adoptions.

The false dichotomy fallacy – it really only takes some imagination and creativity not to be fooled by it.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, teaches ethics and critical thinking at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

Born Gay? (Homosexuality: Part 3 of 3)

2010-06-19T12:45:00.005-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, June 17, 2010)

Born Gay?
(Homosexuality: Part 3 of 3)

There are a number of popular confusions surrounding the issues of homosexual sex and same-sex marriage. Previously, I discussed homophobia, bigotry, and intolerance, plus I discussed the claim that health problems associated with homosexual sex are (allegedly) due to oppressive attitudes of the larger society. Today I will set out yet another popular confusion and I will offer two clarifications.

(Please note: I will do my best to be respectful to all persons, whether those persons approve of same-sex sexual relations or not.)

Popular confusion: Science shows that homosexuals are born that way and so cannot change.

Clarification 1. The claim that science shows that homosexuals are wholly determined to be gay or lesbian by biological or genetic factors is false.

According to Dr. Tom Benton, president of the American College of Pediatricians, “there is no scientific evidence that an individual is born ‘gay’ or ‘transgender.’ Instead, the best available research points to multiple factors—primarily social and familial—that predispose children and adolescents to homosexual attraction and/or gender confusion.”

Dr. Jeffrey Satinover, a psychiatrist educated at MIT and Harvard University, concurs. According to Satinover, most of the studies which purport to show that homosexual orientation is genetically or biologically based have been seriously flawed. Satinover adds: "a certain genetic constitution may make homosexuality more readily available as an option, but it is not a cause of homosexuality."

In other words, scientific evidence does not show that homosexual orientation is biologically determined; rather, scientific evidence shows that homosexual orientation is due to a cluster of influences—i.e., some biological influences (e.g., genes that may predispose, not causally determine) plus some social and psychological influences (e.g., problems in early family relationships, sexual abuse) plus individual choices (which tend to reinforce or undermine a predisposition).

Clarification 2. Significantly, because homosexuals are not born that way (see previous clarification), many persons who have unwanted homosexual attractions can change them.

According to Benton, “It is also critical to understand that these conditions [i.e., homosexual attractions and gender confusion] can respond well to therapy.”

Significantly, according to the 2009 landmark study What Research Shows (done by the U.S.-based National Association for Research and Therapy for Homosexuality), “over a century of experiential evidence, clinical reports, and research evidence demonstrate that it is possible for both men and women to change from homosexuality to heterosexuality [and] that efforts to change are not generally harmful.”

In other words, for those persons who have unwanted homosexual urges, there is real hope for change. (For further verification of this hope, check, for starters, the webpage of Exodus International; see especially the testimonies of individuals who claim to have overcome same-sex urges.)

It is not the case, therefore, that science shows people are born homosexual and so cannot change.

P.S. One additional clarification: It should be noted that a tiny percentage of the human population consists of hermaphrodites or intersexed people, i.e., persons born with a mixture of male and female anatomical components. Such persons are to be loved and respected, surely. It should be noted too that such persons are not the topic of today’s column.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, teaches philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

It's all society's fault? (Homosexuality: Part 2 of 3)

2010-06-03T11:05:00.014-05:00

APOLOGIA

By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, June 3, 2010)

It’s all society’s fault?
(Homosexuality: Part 2 of 3)

There are a number of popular confusions surrounding the issues of homosexual sex and same-sex marriage. Last time I discussed homophobia, bigotry, and intolerance. Today I will set out another popular confusion and I will offer three clarifications.

(Please note: I will do my best to be respectful to all persons, whether those persons approve of same-sex sexual relations or not.)

Popular confusion: It is an established fact that the higher rates of health problems associated with homosexual sex are ultimately due to the oppressive attitudes (towards homosexuals) of the population at large.

Clarification 1. There is some truth to this claim: for example, in 1998 the young homosexual man Matthew Shepherd was brutally murdered [apparently simply] because he was gay. Surely, where homosexuals are in fact oppressed by others, the rights of homosexuals should be protected—just as the rights of heterosexuals are protected. “Gay-bashing” is wrong, period.

Clarification 2. As important as clarification 1 is, the claim that the higher rates of homosexual health problems are ultimately due to the larger population’s oppressive attitudes towards homosexuals has not been established as true in the required broader sense, i.e., in the sense that the larger society's (alleged) general oppression is causally connected to the various health problems associated with same-sex sexual behaviour.

Dr. Joseph Nicolosi, psychologist and past president of the U.S.-based National Association for Research and Therapy of Homosexuality (NARTH), reports the following: “One research study was designed to measure whether distress [for homosexuals] would decrease in societies where homosexuals enjoyed a high level of tolerance. The researchers compared gay-friendly societies, such as Holland and Denmark, with societies more hostile to homosexuality. The study found a higher level of distress among homosexuals in every culture, not just those that disapprove of homosexuality."

Also, NARTH’s 2009 landmark study What Research Shows states the following: “The usual hypothesis is that societal discrimination against homosexuals is solely or primarily responsible for the development of this pathology [i.e., the pathology of higher rates of various health problems associated with homosexual sex]. However, specific attempts to confirm this societal discrimination hypothesis have been unsuccessful, and the alternative possibility—that these conditions may somehow be related to the psychological structure of a homosexual orientation or consequences of a homosexual lifestyle—has not been disconfirmed. Indeed, several cross-cultural studies suggest that this higher rate of psychological disturbance [which in turn is associated with unhealthy sexual behaviour] is in fact independent of a culture's tolerance of—or hostility toward—homosexual behavior.” (The NARTH report goes on to suggest, wisely, that further study is needed.)

Clarification 3. Finally, the following inconvenient truth needs to be stated: Some sexual practices that constitute a principal feature of same-sex relations, especially among men, are physically unhealthy, period, regardless of the attitudes of others in the larger population. (For verification, check, for starters, NARTH’s medical issues webpage plus the homosexuality webpage of the Christian Medical and Dental Associations [see especially the list of references under "Physical Health" in CMDA's Annotated References].)

Thus, the popular claim—that the higher rates of health problems associated with homosexual sex are ultimately due to the larger population’s oppressive attitudes towards homosexuals—is dubious.

I hasten to add: This does not mean that oppressive attitudes towards homosexuals are therefore justified—they aren’t. However, it does mean that, in the future, causal explanations concerning same-sex health problems should be more carefully considered.

In the meantime, it may be wise for parents and teachers to notice that in March 2010 the American College of Pediatricians (ACP) sent a letter to U.S. high schools, a letter in which ACP cautions teachers about affirming students’ same-sex attraction—not to oppress such students, but to promote their good health. To read the letter, look here.

P.S. Please keep in mind my comments on homophobia, bigotry, and intolerance, which I set out in the previous installment of this column: "Homophobia, bigotry, intolerance?"

(Hendrik van der Breggen, Ph.D., teaches philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

Homophobia, bigotry, intolerance? (Homosexuality: Part 1 of 3)

2010-05-20T10:57:00.014-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen

(The Carillon, May 20, 2010)

Homophobia, bigotry, intolerance?
(Homosexuality: Part 1 of 3)

There are a number of popular confusions surrounding the issues of homosexual sex and same-sex marriage. Today I will set out one of these confusions plus offer seven clarifications. (Please note: I will do my best to be respectful to all persons, whether those persons approve of same-sex sexual relations or not.)

Popular Confusion: If you criticize same-sex sexual relationships, then ipso facto (by that very fact) we can judge that you are homophobic, a bigot, and/or intolerant, and so your criticisms should be ignored.

Clarification 1. A phobia is an irrational fear of something. For example, arachnophobia is an irrational fear of arachnids—i.e., spiders. However, it is possible to have a rational fear of or concern about spiders, especially if there is evidence that the spiders in question are dangerous to your health (or dangerous to your children’s health, or dangerous to your friends’ health). Similarly, it is possible to have a rational concern about homosexual sex if there is evidence that such sexual behaviour is unhealthy or dangerous for the parties involved. Not all fears or concerns, then, are phobias. In fact, some fears or concerns can be reasonable, if there are good grounds for those fears or concerns.

Clarification 2. The term bigot describes someone who has a tendency to hold a view or opinion blindly, without giving careful consideration to contrary evidence. Significantly, an attempt to reason with care and to examine evidence when one has a reasonable concern about a topic need not be an instance of bigotry.

Clarification 3. Calling a critic of same-sex relations names such as "homophobe" and "bigot" and then dismissing the critic’s arguments on the basis of his/her alleged personality disorder (whether it’s homophobia or bigotry or both) is to commit the ad hominem fallacy. The ad hominem fallacy is the mistake in reasoning wherein the arguer is attacked instead of his/her argument, when doing so is not relevant. Surely, the critic’s argument should be assessed on the basis of its merits. (Note: If the arguer is in fact a homophobe or bigot, this may give us grounds to suspect that his/her arguments are not strong; nevertheless, whether the arguments are in fact strong or not depends on the arguments themselves.)

Clarification 4. Not all tolerance is good, and not all intolerance is bad. Police are rightly intolerant of drunk driving, spousal abuse, and murder. Teachers are rightly intolerant of cheating and bullying. Parents are rightly intolerant of children playing with matches. If it is reasonable to think that an act can seriously harm another person, then it is good to be intolerant of such acts. Tolerance of such acts would be not good.

Clarification 5. In the case of same-sex sexual relations, the (secular, public) issue has to do (minimally) with balancing possible harm and freedom. So the following questions should be addressed: Are there good reasons for thinking that homosexual sex has harmful consequences to self or others? Or not? If there are such harmful consequences, are they sufficiently harmful to self or others that we should question the wisdom of engaging in or promoting such sexual behaviour? Or not? For the sake of truth, and for the sake of avoiding possible harm to innocents, these are questions we should dare to ask.

Clarification 6. Considerable evidence strongly suggests that serious health-related problems are associated with homosexual sex, more so than with heterosexual sex. (For verification, check, for starters, the medical issues webpage from the National Association for Research and Therapy of Homosexuality [see especially part III of NARTH's What Research Shows]; plus check the position statement webpage from the Christian Medical and Dental Associations [see especially the list of references under “Physical Health” in CMDA’s Annotated References].) If such problems are in fact serious—as they very much seem to be—then responsible and caring people should want to know about them.

Clarification 7. Responsible and caring people, whether homosexual or not, should be free to talk about the above problems with neither fear of homophobia, bigotry, and intolerance, nor fear of false accusations thereof. Open discussion and truth-seeking are important—and so is showing respect to those with whom one disagrees.

P.S. Here is an important letter that the American College of Pediatricians sent in March 2010 to U.S. high schools, a letter in which the ACP cautions teachers about affirming students’ same-sex attraction: ACP letter.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, teaches philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

Faith statements impinge on academic freedom? (Part 3 of 4)

2010-05-06T10:18:00.014-05:00

APOLOGIA

By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, May 6, 2010)

Faith statements impinge on academic freedom? (Part 3 of 4)

The Canadian Association of University Teachers (CAUT) is blacklisting several Christian universities because, CAUT alleges, these schools violate academic freedom. According to CAUT, culprit schools “have imposed [on faculty] a requirement of a commitment to a particular ideology or statement [of faith] as condition of employment,” and so such schools “cannot be practicing academic freedom.” Thus, or so CAUT would have us believe, the blacklisted Christian schools lack legitimacy and credibility.

I think CAUT’s blacklisting project is problematic, for three reasons. (Last times I set out reasons 1 and 2; this time I will set out reason 3.) [For a fourth reason, see my column of February 24, 2011.]

Reason 3: It is in an important sense false that a Christian school’s requirement for faculty to subscribe to a statement of faith means that such schools “cannot be practicing academic freedom.”

Consider the following. I teach at a Christian university college, and my school’s statement of faith requires me to acknowledge the following central doctrines as true: that God exists, that Jesus is God incarnate, that Jesus physically resurrected from the grave. (There are other doctrines, but space is a concern here.)

Now also consider this. I have three degrees in philosophy from respectable Canadian secular universities: BA (University of Calgary), MA (University of Windsor), and PhD (University of Waterloo). The focus of my academic research has been to examine the merits of philosophical objections concerning Christianity in general and Jesus’ resurrection in particular. My academic work has included the study of logic and critical thinking, philosophy of science, philosophy of religion, metaphysics, and ethics.

Yes, there is much that I don’t know, but I believe that I have sufficiently good reasons for freely accepting my school’s faith statement.

Now—and here is my point—at the school that employs me I have the freedom to continue to investigate the truth claims of my school’s faith statement. In fact, my school encourages me to do academic research which addresses contemporary philosophical objections concerning core doctrines of the Christian faith.

For example, a year or so ago my department head asked me to review atheist Richard Dawkins’ best-selling book The God Delusion, a book highly critical of core Christian doctrine. My research into Dawkins’ work turned into a faculty forum presentation plus two articles for an academic journal.

And here is another point: When I teach philosophy at the school at which I am employed, I encourage students to investigate freely and carefully the relevant aspects of our school’s faith statement when we address the big philosophical questions: Does God exist? Is it reasonable to believe that Jesus’ resurrection occurred? Is the concept of incarnation logically coherent? What is truth? Can we know truth? Is anything really right or wrong? Is God relevant to ethics? That sort of thing.

My students have the freedom to disagree with my views (and the school’s views) on these questions, as long as they argue well—i.e., appeal to good reasons and evidence, plus show respect to those with whom they disagree. In fact, we seek truth together, and we sometimes know truth (and sometimes even know it well), all the while acknowledging that we are fallible and that our knowledge is not exhaustive. Often we end up with a reasonable faith.

Surely, my students and I have—and practice—academic freedom, even though I subscribe to a faith statement.

CAUT, then, is in an important sense mistaken that a Christian school’s requirement for faculty to subscribe to a statement of faith means that the school “cannot be practicing academic freedom.”

Therefore, to the Canadian Association of University Teachers and its blacklist project, I say this: In the name of academic freedom broadly conceived (my reason 1), in the name of careful philosophical thinking (my reason 2), and in the name of the freedom to seek truth even under the auspices of a faith statement (my reason 3), please stop.

P.S. See also my reason 4.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, teaches philosophy at Providence College, located in Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada. Providence College is a Christian university college that asks its faculty to agree with a statement of faith.)

Faith statements impinge on academic freedom? (Part 2 of 4)

2010-04-30T11:54:00.014-05:00

APOLOGIA

By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, April 29, 2010)

Faith statements impinge on academic freedom? (Part 2 of 4)

The Canadian Association of University Teachers (CAUT) is blacklisting several Christian universities because, CAUT alleges, these schools violate academic freedom. According to CAUT, academic freedom is the teacher’s right to teach and do research “without restriction by prescribed doctrine.” According to CAUT, culprit schools “have imposed [on faculty] a requirement of a commitment to a particular ideology or statement [of faith] as condition of employment.” Thus, or so CAUT apparently would have us believe, the blacklisted Christian schools lack academic legitimacy and credibility.

I think CAUT’s blacklisting project is problematic, for three reasons. (Last time I set out reason 1; this time I will set out reason 2; next time reason 3.) [See reason 4 in my column of February 24, 2011.]

Reason 2: CAUT’s blacklist relies on a questionable philosophical assumption.

For CAUT’s blacklist actually to cast doubt on the academic legitimacy or credibility of the work done by Christian groups of academics which operate under a statement of faith, CAUT is assuming that no scholarly sub-community can appropriately settle on and commit to some philosophical-theological truths unless the larger (dominating) academic culture approves. But this assumption is dubious.

CAUT’s assumption is dubious because it unfairly deals a trump card to those philosophical-theological positions—i.e., agnosticism and atheism—which hold philosophical-theological truth claims to be unknowable or false.

CAUT is in effect assuming a privileged epistemological (knowledge) status for agnosticism and atheism. And, because these philosophies are either popular among or held by at least a few influential CAUT members, the assumption of this privileged epistemological status has the following result: it automatically gives CAUT the (self-appointed) authority to judge as academically illegitimate the work of those scholars who—God forbid!—freely band together and corporately commit to studying under the doctrinal banner that the Christian God is real and can be known.

CAUT, then, is engaged in philosophical self-promotion.

What is worse (for CAUT), CAUT’s epistemological assumption shows that CAUT is out of touch with much contemporary philosophy of religion (my area of academic specialization). Over the past few decades in many Anglo-American university philosophy departments, there has been a rebirth of respectable philosophical argumentation that defends (a) the truth of God’s existence, (b) the reasonableness of belief in Jesus’ miraculous resurrection, plus (c) the logical coherence of Christianity’s core theological doctrines.

In other words, when, under the veil of “academic freedom,” the philosophical-theological legitimacy of recent work in contemporary philosophy of religion is in effect dismissed—without argument—by the privileged epistemic status CAUT grants to the agnostic-atheistic positions, CAUT is engaging in philosophical sleight of hand.

Via its blacklist, CAUT is, wittingly or unwittingly, imposing its preferred philosophical-theological views onto the broader academic community. But this is not academic freedom, it is academic bullying.

Therefore, to CAUT and its blacklist project, I say this: In the name of academic freedom broadly conceived—and in the name of careful philosophical thinking—please stop.

Next time I’ll set out my third reason for thinking that the CAUT’s blacklist is problematic. (Spoiler alert: I think it is in an important sense false that a school’s requirement for faculty to subscribe to a statement of faith means that the school “cannot be practicing academic freedom.”)

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, teaches philosophy at Providence College, located in Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada. Providence College is a Christian university college that asks its faculty to agree with a statement of faith.)

Faith statements impinge on academic freedom? (Part 1 of 4)

2010-04-22T11:04:00.012-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, April 22, 2010)

Faith statements impinge on academic freedom? (Part 1 of 4)

The Canadian Association of University Teachers (CAUT) is blacklisting several Christian universities because, CAUT alleges, these schools violate academic freedom. According to CAUT, academic freedom is the teacher’s right to teach and do research “without restriction by prescribed doctrine.” According to CAUT, culprit schools—Trinity Western University (presently blacklisted), Canadian Mennonite University, Redeemer University, Crandall University (the latter three are in CAUT's sights)—“have imposed a requirement of a commitment to a particular ideology or statement [of faith] as condition of employment.” According to James Turk, executive director of CAUT, “A school that requires its faculty to subscribe to a particular religious belief or ideology cannot be practicing academic freedom.”

I think CAUT’s blacklisting project is problematic, for three reasons. [Actually, four reasons. I set out reason 4 in my column of February 24, 2011.]

Reason 1: CAUT is thwarting academic freedom broadly conceived.

In defence of reason 1, I will appeal to some insights from Regent College Professor John C. Stackhouse Jr., an academic with professional experience in both secular and faith-based universities.

In University Affairs (a publication for university teachers), Stackhouse points out the following: Wholly unqualified academic freedom, as found in modern secular universities, and partially qualified academic freedom, as found in explicitly faith-based Christian universities, are both important in a society that values academic freedom.

According to Stackhouse, there is something positive about a secular community of scholars which has unqualified academic freedom (i.e., there is radical plurality, no assumption is taken for granted, and study moves on from there); and there is something positive about a faith-based community of scholars which has qualified academic freedom (i.e., there is a philosophical-theological commonality based on a coherent well-articulated set of grounding assumptions, and study moves on from there).

Stackhouse wisely writes: “I want to urge my fellow Canadian scholars to leave space for the alternative of a community of scholars that can take a number of basic assumptions for granted and go on together to analyze a wide range of important questions. The synergy that comes from such shared intellectual commitments is simply not to be found in the secular university.”

In other words (mine, not Stackhouse’s): Academic freedom when broadly conceived is enhanced if we give scholars the freedom not to have to reinvent the light bulb. That is to say, academic freedom is enhanced if we allow sub-groups of the broader scholarly community to accept the philosophical-theological light that they believe they have discovered, allow them to band together, and allow them to use the aforementioned light as a lamp unto their collective feet.

Of course, they might be mistaken; but perhaps not. Either way, there is an increase in the freedom of the broader academic community to pursue knowledge and truth—which is good.

In view of reason 1, to CAUT and its blacklist project, I say this: In the name of academic freedom broadly conceived, please stop.

Next times I’ll set out my second and third reasons for thinking that the CAUT’s blacklist is problematic. (Spoiler alert: I think CAUT is relying on an unnoticed faulty philosophical criterion in its blacklist. I also think it is in an important sense false that a school’s requirement for faculty to subscribe to a statement of faith means that the school “cannot be practicing academic freedom.”)

[Reminder: I also set out a fourth reason in a later column.]

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, teaches philosophy at Providence College, located in Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada. Providence College is a Christian university college that asks its faculty to agree with a statement of faith.)

Easter and Philosophy

2010-04-08T21:07:00.007-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, April 8, 2010)

Easter and Philosophy

“After his suffering, he showed himself to [the apostles] and gave many convincing proofs that he was alive. He appeared to them over a period of forty days and spoke about the kingdom of God.” (Acts 1: 3)

The traditional Easter gospel or good news is this: God (God the Son) came to Earth in the man Jesus; Jesus took our punishment for sin onto Himself by suffering and dying on a cross; then God (the Father) raised Jesus from the grave (tomb), thereby defeating death. Jesus' resurrection, that is, His return to life in the same physical body but somehow wonderfully renewed, is said to be a glorious sign, which, with the help of God (the Holy Spirit), allows us to believe (accept by faith) the good news of God’s forgiveness, love, and justice—news we are called to proclaim and put into practice.

Of course, this raises the question: Is it reasonable to believe that Jesus actually resurrected? I am convinced that the answer is yes, so I encourage readers to check out the New Testament along with the many good books that set out the relevant evidence gleaned from the New Testament and elsewhere, books such as Lee Strobel’s The Case for Easter and William Lane Craig’s Reasonable Faith and On Guard.

But not everyone is convinced of the historical occurrence of Jesus’ resurrection. Indeed, many critics attempt to derail the direction the evidence points by setting out alternative non-resurrection explanations—such as Jesus didn't really die, the witnesses hallucinated, a conspiracy occurred, or it's all legend. Significantly, as Strobel and Craig rightly argue, such alternative explanations are weak.

Strobel’s and Craig’s arguments are worthy of study, but I won’t rehash them here. Nevertheless, as a philosopher, I think it’s important to point out that many contemporary non-resurrection explanations tend to be set forth primarily because of a philosophical reason.

How so? It turns out that many contemporary resurrection critics have been infected by a skeptical philosophical view that has been transmitted to us from the Scottish philosopher David Hume.

If your son or daughter goes to university today and takes an introductory philosophy class, he or she will probably run into David Hume. Well, not David Hume in person, but a philosophy professor who is a kindred spirit.

Hume lived from 1711 to 1776. He is famous, rather notorious, for, among other things, his argument against miracles. According to Hume, no matter how good the historical evidence is for a miracle such as Jesus' resurrection—even if the miracle actually occurred—the evidence is never good enough.

Hume argues that a miracle is a violation of a law of nature and that the laws of nature are very well established. The result, according to Hume, is that a miracle's occurrence is maximally improbable, and this maximal improbability counts against any good testimony for a miracle, either balancing the testimony (thereby providing grounds to suspend belief) or outweighing it (thereby providing grounds for disbelief). In reality, Hume thinks the latter is the case. Either way, Hume would have us dismiss miracle testimonies as unreasonable to believe.

Having studied Hume's argument for my master's thesis in philosophy at the University of Windsor and for my PhD dissertation in philosophy at the University of Waterloo, I have come to conclude that Hume's argument fails.

His argument fails because it commits the fallacy of question-begging. It "begs the question" in the sense that it engages in circular reasoning: it assumes as proven that which is at issue, and it sneaks the conclusion into the premises.

As mentioned, Hume takes the violation-of-law-of-nature aspect of a miracle to be sufficient grounds for counting the violated laws of nature wholly and destructively against miracle testimony—to judge the miracle to be maximally improbable.

Interestingly, in the case of Jesus' resurrection, such an event is maximally improbable, given the laws of nature and given that there is no intervention from outside the physical system.

Significantly, this brings to light the fact that Hume makes the assumption that to make a probability judgment all that is needed is our knowledge of the relevant laws of nature.

But, it should be emphasized, we are supposedly talking about a miraculous resurrection (as suggested by the evidence), and so, although we are given the laws of nature, we are not given that there is no intervention from outside the system.

So in assuming that all that is needed is our knowledge of the relevant laws of nature and nothing about any possible intervention from outside of nature, Hume is, in effect, assuming that either God does not exist (and so God never intervenes via miracles) or, if God does exist, God's intentions concerning nature are shown to us wholly by the laws of nature (and so God never intervenes via miracles).

But if, as Hume assumes for the sake of argument, there is good evidence for what seems very much to be a miracle—Hume even allows it to be a real miracle—then Hume's assumption about the background knowledge is at issue.

In other words, in order for Hume's argument to work, it requires the assumption that the laws of nature express either all of the goings-on of a universe without God or, if God exists, all of God's intentions concerning the universe. But the truth of this assumption must be put on hold when a miracle (whether actual or alleged) is supposed to be under investigation.

Indeed, for one's mind to be actually open to the possibility of the occurrence of an occasional real miracle—a possibility Hume allows, at least for the sake of argument—requires that the assumption Hume makes be suspended—at least when one is purportedly investigating the evidence for a miracle.

In other words, Hume's argument works only if we assume that there is no God who on rare occasions intervenes in nature, but this assumption is at issue when we are considering any alleged evidence for miracles.

Thus, by assuming the above-described background knowledge, Hume mistakenly begs the question which only the (alleged) miracle evidence can answer.

Hume's mind is already made up, then, and not open to what the evidence suggests.

The philosophical upshot is that if your mind is not already closed to the possibility of a God who occasionally does a miracle, that is, if your mind is open to the possibility of God's existence and the possibility of this God intervening in nature, then the facts surrounding Jesus' alleged resurrection may make a miraculous resurrection explanation plausible, and even reasonable to believe.

Easter—it’s truly good news because it’s grounded in reality.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, teaches philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

Criticisms of Atheistic Neo-Darwinian Ethics

2010-03-27T11:32:00.005-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, March 25, 2010)

Criticisms of Atheistic Neo-Darwinian Ethics

Atheistic neo-Darwinist evolutionary accounts of ethics tend to emphasize one of two features: (a) the survival of the fittest, or (b) co-operation. Thinking people should examine both accounts. Let’s do this in four steps.

1. Let’s first see what two prominent atheistic neo-Darwinists have to say about ethics in general.

Richard Dawkins writes: “The universe we observe has precisely the properties we should expect if there is, at bottom, no design, no purpose, no evil and no good, nothing but blind, pitiless indifference.” [River Out of Eden: A Darwinian View of Life (London: Phoenix Press, 1995), 133; italics added for emphasis.]

Michael Ruse writes: “The position of the modern evolutionist...is that humans have an awareness of morality...because such an awareness is of biological worth. Morality is a biological adaptation, no less than our hands and feet and teeth.... Considered as a rationally justifiable set of claims about an objective something, ethics is illusory. I can appreciate that when somebody says "love thy neighbour as thyself," they think they are referring above and beyond themselves.... Nevertheless...such reference is truly without foundation. Morality is just an aid to survival and reproduction...and any deeper meaning is illusory....” [Michael Ruse, “Evolutionary Theory and Christian Ethics,” in The Darwinian Paradigm (London: Routledge, 1989), 262, 268-269; italics added for emphasis.]

In other words, these prominent atheistic neo-Darwinists allege that there is no real right, wrong, good, or evil. Rather, our sense/ feeling of "objective morality" evolved into being because it produced survival benefits. Real right and wrong, real good and evil—these are merely useful fictions.

2. Let’s now look at the survival-of-the-fittest emphasis of atheistic neo-Darwinian ethics. On this view the right or good is whatever helps my group (or me) survive.

The problems with this view are obvious. If good and evil, right and wrong, are not real, i.e., are not in any deep sense true and binding on all, and if the governing principle of life is survival of the fittest, then it follows logically that genocide is acceptable if it promotes the survival of my group.

Also, it follows that ruthless imperialism is acceptable if it’s in my group’s interest. Also, it follows that ruthless egoism is acceptable if it’s in my self-interest and I can get away with it. In other words, might makes right.

But, surely, we know that, morally, might doesn’t make right. Significantly, this moral knowledge counts against the survival of the fittest neo-Darwinian view of ethics.

3. Okay, now let’s look at the co-operation emphasis of atheistic neo-Darwinian ethics. This is also known as tit-for-tat morality. The idea is that our sense of right and wrong, good and evil, comes from our Darwinian past in which reciprocal altruism occurred: “you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours”. Morals arose from agreements (explicit or implicit). And agreements arose from our enlightened self-interest, to ensure our survival and allow us to get what we want.

Serious problems arise for the co-operation view, too.

First, the co-operation view discounts our deepest intuitions about real right and wrong as mere suggestions for living, i.e., as useful “rules of thumb,” which evolved. Second, it dismisses our deepest intuition about the intrinsic moral worth of humans as mere useful illusion. Third, once we are “enlightened” (i.e., once our consciousness is raised by our awareness of the truth of atheistic neo-Darwinian evolution), it reduces morality to enlightened self-interest (reciprocal altruism), which reduces to contractarian ethics (ethics by agreement).

But contractarian ethics are hugely problematic. Here are some of the problems: Nothing is really wrong except breaking an agreement (but that’s okay if you pay out); people outside the agreement (“social club”) are not morally relevant (unless they can provide tit for tat, i.e., reciprocate in some way in your favour or not in your favour); plus we end up with moral relativism (i.e., morals depend on our various “social clubs” or individual preferences, which means that obviously evil regimes and individuals are merely doing what is “right for them,” period).

[See my previous Apologia columns for additional criticisms of contractarian ethics and moral relativism.]

4. To make matters worse for atheistic neo-Darwinian ethics, both the survival of the fittest and the co-operation emphases have trouble accounting for high altruism (i.e., the virtue of self sacrifice). High altruism is alleged by some to be due to an evolutionary misfiring.

Misfiring or not, once we realize (in our atheistic neo-Darwinian “enlightened” consciousness) that the urge to self-sacrifice is merely an evolved instinct—i.e., just a useful evolutionary illusion/trick, nothing more—we begin to wonder whether self-sacrifice is virtuous at all.

But such thoughts don’t sit well with our deep pre-theoretic first-order moral intuitions (i.e., our moral-rational insights prior to succumbing to atheistic neo-Darwnian ethical theory). The neo-Darwinian explanation, which is a second-order ethical theory, must compete with the first-order moral experience that it purports to debunk—but the first-order moral experience isn’t easily dislodged.

In plain English: The atheistic neo-Darwinian theory of ethics threatens to explain away what we know morally, but runs amok philosophically because of what we know morally.

Atheistic neo-Darwinian ethics? Go figure.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, teaches philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

Atheistic Darwinian Evolution and Ethics

2010-03-12T22:29:00.009-06:00

APOLOGIA

By Hendrik van der Breggen

(The Carillon, March 11, 2010)

Atheistic Darwinian evolution and ethics

In my previous column I quoted serial killer Ted Bundy, who asked: "Why is it more wrong to kill a human animal than any other animal, a pig or a sheep or a steer?"

Bundy’s answer: It isn’t. In fact, according to Bundy, it’s not wrong to kill humans at all if it gives you pleasure, because morals are wholly subjective, i.e., just a matter of feeling or taste, nothing more.

On the blog version of this column, an atheist proponent of Darwinian evolution answered Bundy’s question as follows: “That's too easy, Doc. We evolved by preserving our species.”

This particular atheist’s answer is a typical response of many persons who are atheistic evolutionists. Here’s my reply (which I set out in my blog, worth repeating here):

I’m not convinced that it’s as easy as you say. I think that, yes, the value we place on human life would help us evolve (assuming an unguided, wholly naturalistic evolutionary process) by being useful in guiding actions that help preserve us.

However, now, once we realize that we have simply evolved (wholly purposelessly, by natural selection acting on genetic mutation) it would seem that we should also realize that standards of right and wrong, i.e., our values, are mere guidelines for the preservation of our group. That is, we should realize that ethics aren’t about an objective good that is deeply real or deeply binding; ethics are merely a set of helpful rules that culture has handed down to us to help us survive.

In other words, as atheist philosopher Michael Ruse writes, “Morality is just an aid to survival and reproduction...and any deeper meaning is illusory.” So ethics, it seems to me, could vary from culture to culture, if the principles and values help a group or society, one way or another, to survive.

But things become problematic at this juncture. Enter: the evil regime problem that I mention in my column. That is, we end up having no deeply real good or deeply binding basis for disagreement with groups led by the likes of Hitler, Idi Amin, Pol Pot, etc. After all, they are merely doing what helps them survive. Their values primarily concern their survival, not ours.

Enter, too, the evil individual problem that I also mention in my column. That is, we end up having no deeply real good or deeply binding basis for disagreement with the likes of individuals such as Karla Homolka, Ted Bundy, etc.

Ethics, it seems, end up being reduced to personal preference and power, and we have no grounds for criticism other than our personal preference and power. Morality reduces to might makes right.

Phillip Johnson (a lawyer and Darwin critic) has an insightful comment that’s relevant here: “[M]any people have made an effort to build ethical systems out of an evolutionary background—one of the things that has evolved is the human need to form societies; societies need rules; we as rational beings can recognize the need for rules.

“You can even see how certain rules and standards like promise-keeping, for example, or parents caring for children, would enable a tribe to provide better and to do better in competition with other tribes. And so you can get a grounding for ethics in that sense in the evolutionary process itself.”

So far, so good. But Johnson quickly (and rightly) adds the following: “[T]he problem [with evolutionary/ survivalist ethics] is that while promise-keeping can be justified on an evolutionary basis, so equally can genocide, you see, because what genocide just is is the replacement of one gene pool with another. You wipe out the tribe down the way and your gene pool survives....”

It seems to me that we find genocide and serial killing wrong because we have a deep moral intuition (i.e., moral/rational insight) of the following objective truth: that people have real intrinsic moral worth. And I am very inclined to think that people in general, whether atheist or theist or whatever, can and generally do recognize this worth.

I have found that a couple of my good friends who are atheist/agnostic tend to agree with me on this. We agree that people have real intrinsic moral worth and deserve respect (i.e., shouldn’t be tortured for fun, murdered, raped, etc.); where we differ is in how to explain that worth. We differ on how to account for it, not on that it is the case. I tend to think it’s due to being made in God’s image; my atheist friends disagree.

My friends who are atheists/agnostics and I have a deep disagreement here, to be sure. But there’s also some very important common ground. I believe that this common ground allows us to work together and respect each other and others as we work to maintain and protect and encourage what’s good and excellent in our world.

Nevertheless, a philosophical problem remains, and its implications should be faced squarely. My belief that people are made in God’s image reinforces my intuition (moral-rational insight) that all people have real intrinsic moral worth. However, the atheistic neo-Darwinian view that people are accidents of a purposeless nature undermines and weakens the intuition (moral-rational insight) that all people have real intrinsic moral worth.

After all (and again), as the atheistic evolutionist Michael Ruse makes clear, “Morality is just an aid to survival and reproduction...and any deeper meaning is illusory.” Ruse means that the intuition that people have real intrinsic moral value is false.

Shouldn’t the atheistic survivalist-evolutionary view, then, tend to favor, morally speaking, the fittest and strongest? Shouldn’t the atheistic survivalist-evolutionary view, then, reinforce the subjective pleasures (the enlightened self-interest) of the powerful?

In other words, the atheistic survivalist-evolutionary view seems to provide strong philosophical support for Ted Bundy’s subjectivist view of ethics. And this is troubling.

Please let me be clear. I haven’t argued that atheists are bad or cannot be good (in fact, most of the atheists I know impress me as caring, good people). Rather, I have argued that atheism—especially when wed to neo-Darwinian evolution—lacks the philosophical resources to lend credence to the moral judgment that some actions which violate or destroy people are truly bad and some actions which help people flourish are truly good.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, teaches philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

Are Morals Wholly Subjective?

2010-02-26T20:35:00.010-06:00

Photo: Ted Bundy in custody

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, February 25, 2010)

Are morals wholly subjective?

A few weeks ago in Apologia, I examined a presently popular view of ethics known as moral relativism. According to moral relativism, there are no moral principles or values objectively real and applicable to everyone; rather, what’s right/wrong or good/bad essentially depends on individual preference or culture, and this varies from person to person or group to group.

I evaluated moral relativism via an argument strategy known as reductio ad absurdum or the absurd consequences move. That is, to show that moral relativism is problematic, I assumed, temporarily for the sake of argument, that the view is true. If the logical consequences of the assumed truth of moral relativism are false or otherwise deeply problematic, then it follows logically that moral relativism is false or otherwise deeply problematic, or both.

I then set out various logical consequences that are false or otherwise deeply problematic. Hence, I concluded, there are good reasons for rejecting moral relativism. (For a review, see the blog version of my column.)

I think that my reductio ad absurdum arguments are strong (from the point of view of good reasoning and truth). Nevertheless, I would like to add one more argument against moral relativism, especially in its individualistic form (a.k.a. moral subjectivism), as a reply to those persons who still might think that we needn’t be concerned about whether morality is wholly subjective.

More specifically, I wish to respond to the shoulder-shrugging dismissive attitude toward careful moral thinking summed up in the all-too-popular mind-numbing mantra “whatever.”

Here, then, is my response. It’s a paraphrase of a tape-recorded conversation between serial murderer Ted Bundy and one of his victims:

"Then I learned that all moral judgments are ‘value judgments,’ that all value judgments are subjective, and that none can be proved to be either ‘right’ or ‘wrong.’ I even read somewhere that the Chief Justice of the United States had written that the American Constitution expressed nothing more than collective value judgments.

“Believe it or not, I figured out for myself—what apparently the Chief Justice couldn’t figure out for himself—that if the rationality of one value judgment was zero, multiplying it by millions would not make it one whit more rational. Nor is there any ‘reason’ to obey the law for anyone, like myself, who has the boldness and daring—the strength of character—to throw off its shackles….I discovered that to become truly free, truly unfettered, I had to become truly uninhibited.

“And I quickly discovered that the greatest obstacle to my freedom, the greatest block and limitation to it, consists in the insupportable ‘value judgment’ that I was bound to respect the rights of others. I asked myself, who were these ‘others?’ Other human beings, with human rights?

“Why is it more wrong to kill a human animal than any other animal, a pig or a sheep or a steer? Is your life more to you than a hog’s life to a hog? Why should I be willing to sacrifice my pleasure more for the one than for the other? Surely, you would not, in this age of scientific enlightenment, declare that God or nature has marked some pleasures as ‘moral’ or ‘good’ and others as ‘immoral’ or ‘bad’?

“In any case, let me assure you, my dear young lady, that there is absolutely no comparison between the pleasure that I might take in eating ham and the pleasure I anticipate in raping and murdering you. That is the honest conclusion to which my education has led me—after the most conscientious examination of my spontaneous and uninhibited self."

[Ted Bundy (proponent of wholly subjective ethics and murderer of at least 20 women), cited in Louis P. Pojman, Ethics: Discovering Right and Wrong, 3rd edition (Belmont, CA: Wadsworth/Thomson, 1999), 31-32.]

Surely, we should be concerned when right and wrong are alleged to be wholly subjective. Surely, too, shrugging off careful moral thinking with “whatever” is socially irresponsible as well as morally repugnant.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, teaches philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba.)

Morals By Argreement?

2010-02-12T19:35:00.006-06:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, February 11, 2010)

Morals by agreement?

A contemporary view of ethics (popular in theory and practice if not in name) is contractarianism, a.k.a. morals by agreement. Let’s get clear on this theory of ethics, and then let’s assess it from the point of view of critical/ careful thinking.

Contractarianism can be traced back to the English philosopher Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679). Hobbes believed that there is no God, that there is no natural/intrinsic Right or Wrong, and that people are self-interested. Famously, Hobbes summed up the human predicament as follows: In a state of nature (i.e., in a situation with no God, no objective moral values, but with lots of self-interested people), humankind faces a “war of all against all” and life is “nasty, brutish, and short.”

Nevertheless, according to Hobbes, there is hope. Because people are in fact self-interested, they desire peace to escape fear and conflict and to protect the fruit of their personal industry. Moreover, because people are also intelligent, they give power to a Sovereign (i.e., a government) in exchange for peace and the arbitration of disputes. Morality, then, emerges from enlightened self-interest.

Ethics essentially consist of some agreed-to prohibitions against force and fraud, i.e., some agreed-to constraints on unbridled self-interest, which are backed up with government force (e.g., police, soldiers) and reinforced by culture (e.g., school, church).

Contemporary philosopher Antony Flew: “A general explanation of morality and [self-]interest might be stated thus: all our benefits come from the existence of a stable society; the observance of certain moral rules is a necessary condition of such a society; hence we have an interest in maintaining moral order.”

Therefore, according to contractarianism, ethics are ultimately and merely a social contract (implicitly or explicitly held) that is prudent for everyone to accept.

What should we think about Contractarian ethics? Is it reasonable to hold? It seems to me that there are pros and cons, but the cons outweigh the pros.

Here are some pros:

Pro 1. Contractarianism appeals to our sense that people should be free to decide which moral views they think is best. Personal autonomy, after all, is important.

Pro 2. Contractarianism appeals to our sense that we should have a minimal morality to allow us to live together via agreement in the midst of (apparently) diverse moral views. Prudence and an element of practicality in morality are important, surely.

Pro 3. Contractarianism seems to harness and direct people’s self-centeredness in a positive other-oriented direction. This is especially appealing in a democratic free-enterprise economic system that relies on agreements between employees and employers, buyers and sellers, governed and government. The idea is that I’ll do what you want, if you do what I want. Win-win!

So far, so good. But there are cons, too, which shouldn’t be ignored:

Con 1. Yes, contractarianism is attractive; however, its attraction seems to arise from confusing a political view for an ethical view. Keeping agreements is important for a society to function, to be sure, but on contractarianism the agreements become mistaken for morality, the latter of which is more basic than the former. In turns out that on contractariansim the social contract between government and governed, or between self-interested individuals or groups, is substituted for the deep understandings of right and wrong by which we can and should judge the social contract in the first place.

Think of it this way: We are willing to agree to prohibit act X because we think X is wrong (so far so good); but then, on contractarian moral philosophy, act X ends up being wrong merely because we agree that X is wrong. But this is to engage in philosophical sleight of hand—agreements are substituted for morals.

Con 2. Following closely on the heels of the previous point, contractarianism locates the wrongness of an act merely in the breaking of an agreement. But this means that on the contractarian view, obvious evils such as murder, rape, torture, and child molestation are not wrong in themselves, they are wrong only insofar as a contract is broken.

What is worse, it would actually be okay to murder, rape, torture, etc. if you didn’t mind paying the price for breaking the contract if you got caught. By “buying” your way out of the contract (by paying a fine or going to jail) you in effect live up to your end of the contract, and so your murder/ rape/ torture/ molestation isn’t actually wrong in itself. There is no real wrong; the problem is merely your lack of enlightened self-interest—you simply weren’t smart enough not to get caught!

Con 3. Because, on contractarianism, the wrongness of an act is located in the breaking of an agreement, it turns out that those who are outside of the circle of agreement (outside of the “club”) are not morally relevant. But this means that dastardly things can be done to those with whom you do not enter into agreements. It would not be wrong, then, to murder/ rape/ torture/ molest those who are not part of your society (club). In other words, ethics turns out to be essentially relative to one’s group. Enter: the factual, logical, and moral problems of moral relativism (as presented in my previous two columns).

In sum, contractarianism is deeply problematic because it fails to account for two facts: (1) that human beings have objective moral value (intrinsic worth) and so, at the very least, should not be violated; and (2) we know this.

Agreements are important, but they are not the whole story about ethics.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, teaches philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba.)

Assessing Moral Relativism, continued

2010-01-29T20:35:00.005-06:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, January 28, 2010)

Assessing Moral Relativism, continued

A presently popular view of ethics is moral relativism. According to moral relativism, there are no moral principles or values objectively real and applicable to everyone; rather, what’s right/wrong and good/bad essentially depends on individual preference or culture, and this varies from person to person or group to group.

Moral relativism seems tolerant (“you do your thing and I’ll do mine”), but is it reasonable to believe? We should think not.

First, let’s get clear on moral relativism by looking at it in its group or cultural form; let’s call it cultural relativism (CR for short). (Last time we looked at individual/subjective relativism.)

According to CR, ethics essentially depend on one’s culture or tribe. That is, CR says action X is right or good if culture says X is right or good, and X is wrong or bad if culture says X is wrong or bad. Action X may be right in one culture but wrong in another. Our culture may hold that apartheid is wrong, but another culture may be okay with apartheid, because of a difference in the history of interracial relations.

On CR, then, morality is wholly a matter of cultural invention, i.e., social construction, to cope with historical circumstances, and because such circumstances vary from group to group, so do the constructed moralities. Thus, we shouldn’t impose our culture’s moral values on others, and others shouldn’t push theirs on us.

CR sounds good, but is it sound? To show that CR is not sound (i.e., is not reasonable to believe), let’s assume, temporarily for argument’s sake, that CR is true. If the logical consequences of CR’s assumed truth are false or otherwise deeply problematic, then it follows logically that CR is false or otherwise deeply problematic, or both. (This argument strategy is known as reductio ad absurdum or the absurd consequences move.)

If CR is true, then six problems result.

1. CR ends up giving support to obviously evil regimes and evil cultural practices. On CR it becomes impossible to criticize the Nazis. If Nazi culture says that genocide is right, then, for Nazi Germany, genocide is right. In other words, if CR is true, then we cannot condemn the following: the Jewish Holocaust, Stalin's murder of millions, human trafficking in Asia and eastern Europe, torture of political prisoners in Afghanistan, the Hindu practice of Suttee (cremation of a widow on her husband's funeral pyre), the African practice of clitoridectomy (wholly or partially removing a woman's clitoris so she will not be distracted from her family duties), Chinese foot binding (so women’s feet remain tiny and pretty, albeit crippled).

Moreover, if CR is true, then we cannot condemn atrocities committed by Christians in the Crusades and in the Spanish Inquisition. It was just their culture, after all. But we think—we know—that we can and should condemn such regimes and practices.

2. If CR is true, then internal cultural reform is disabled. On CR what the culture says is right is right, so it's not possible for one's culture to be mistaken let alone reformed. Yes, one can critique acts according to cultural standards, but it's not possible to criticize one's own cultural standards. The result: moral quietism—no prophets or independently-minded moral reformers could arise to preach a social justice hitherto unknown.

But, obviously, they do arise. Examples: Old Testament prophets, Jesus, William Wilberforce, Martin Luther King Jr., Ghandi, etc. In other words, the existence of cultural reformers is a fact, and this fact counts against CR.

3. CR self-refutes. If CR is true, it allows for the possibility of a society having a non-relative or absolute morality. That is, on CR a society could hold that CR is false, and CR would say that this morality is true. So, if CR is true, then CR also is not true. This is a serious logical problem.

4. CR has a practical problem. According to CR, what the culture says is right is right. But the question arises: Which culture? The one you're born into or the one you presently occupy? I asked this question when I visited a university in Russia a few years ago: What should I do, since I was born in Venezuela, grew up in a Dutch family, became a Canadian as a teen, teach at a Christian college, study at a secular university, and yet I was spending some time in Russia?

And what about the Arab-American father who kills his daughter in accordance to Arab custom, because she refuses to marry the man the family had arranged for her to marry? American culture says this is wrong, but the father’s Arab culture says this is right. Which culture should be followed? These questions throw a wrench into the practice of CR.

5. CR does not provide a satisfactory answer to yet another important question, specifically: Why obey the tribe’s rules? Tribe's answer: Because the tribe says. But it makes good sense to ask: Why? Significantly, any non-question-begging answers (i.e., any answers other than “culture says its rules are right because culture says its rules are right”) lead us to reasons other than mere accordance to what culture says. But this means that culture is no longer the fundamental ground for ethics.

If we are told to follow culture because, say, human life has intrinsic worth, then intrinsic worth of human life is what's most important, not culture. But this means ethics are not essentially dependent on culture, and so any good reason for CR actually counts against CR. This nuttiness counts against CR too.

6. CR, if true, is useless in conflict resolution. CR says, “You’re right because your culture says you’re right.” But saying this to a bully-nation and a bullied-nation—that is, saying this to Nazi Germany and Nazi-occupied Netherlands, or to a Holocaust-denying nuclear-armed Ahmadinejad-ist Iran and its Jewish targets—is a recipe for disaster. Morality is usually thought to be useful in social conflict. CR, however, simply stares blankly and shrugs its shoulders.

In view of these problems which arise logically from CR, it’s reasonable to conclude that cultural moral relativism is flawed—logically, factually, and morally—and so should be rejected.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba.)

Assessing Moral Relativism

2010-01-16T13:05:00.007-06:00

(Click on graphic to see details and source more clearly.)
APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, January 14, 2010)

Assessing Moral Relativism

A presently popular view of ethics is moral relativism. According to moral relativism, there are no moral principles or values objectively real and applicable to everyone; rather, what’s right/wrong and good/bad essentially depends on individual preference or culture, and this varies from person to person or group to group.

Moral relativism seems tolerant (“you do your thing and I’ll do mine”), but is it reasonable to believe? We should think not.

First, let’s get clear on moral relativism by looking at it in its individualistic form; let’s call it individual relativism (IR for short). (Next time we’ll look at the cultural or group version, a.k.a. cultural relativism.)

According to IR, ethics are merely a matter of individual preference. That is, IR says action X is right or good if I like X, and X is wrong or bad if I don’t like X. Depending on our feelings, action X may be right for you but wrong for me. You may not like abortion, but I may be okay with abortion, if my feelings are not as troubled by it as yours are. Morality, then, is basically a matter of taste, and tastes vary. I shouldn’t impose my tastes on others, and others shouldn’t push their tastes on me.

IR sounds good, but is it sound? To show that IR is not sound (i.e., is not reasonable to believe), let’s assume, temporarily for argument’s sake, that IR is true. If the logical consequences of IR’s assumed truth are false or otherwise deeply problematic, then it follows logically that IR is false or otherwise deeply problematic, or both. (This argument strategy is known as reductio ad absurdum or the absurd consequences move.)

If IR is true, then six problems result.

Problem 1: Intra-personal criticism is lost. If IR is true, whatever we feel is right is right. In other words, on IR we can never be wrong morally and we cannot criticize ourselves (all we can be is true to our feelings). This is not a knock-down argument against IR, but it serves as a red flag against IR, because our pre-theoretic experience of morality is that we sometimes make moral mistakes, in spite of our feelings.

Problem 2: Inter-personal criticism is lost. If IR is true, then we cannot criticize others. On IR we can’t truly morally condemn the behaviour of, say, Robert Picton (the British Columbia pig farmer who murdered as many as dozens of women) and Josef Fritzl (the Austrian man who locked his daughter in his basement for 24 years and raped her repeatedly, fathering as many as seven children, three of whom were also locked up in the basement). After all, Picton probably liked killing the women and Fritzl probably liked raping and wielding power over his daughter.

On IR, the feelings of these men justified their actions. In other words, according to IR: Who are we to judge them? I have my feelings; they have theirs. I like chocolate ice cream; Picton and Fritzl like strawberry ice cream. Sure, if I had the power to stop them, I would; but then, on IR, I’m just reinforcing my taste with power, so might makes right. It turns out that Picton and Fritzl were the more powerful in their situations, so, on IR, they were still right. Surely, though, this is morally wrong—and we know it to be a fact.

Problem 3: IR has a practical problem: it seems psychologically impossible to practice. For example, for IR to work I should be able to believe that it’s wrong, say, for me to torture my sons for fun, but okay for others to do so if they want to. But I simply cannot believe this. This is a serious practical/psychological problem for IR. (Interestingly, if somebody can practice IR, then what IR upholds as a moral model is the psychopath. That is, someone like the Joker in the Batman film The Dark Knight would be our moral model. This seems wrong, plain and simple.)

Problem 4: IR self-refutes. If IR is true, it allows for the possibility of an individual having a non-relative or absolute morality. That is, on IR an individual could feel that IR is false, and IR would say that this morality is true. So, if IR is true, then IR also is not true. This is a serious logical problem.

Problem 5: IR proponents tend to be inconsistent in the face of IR’s (alleged) truth. If, say, we were to abuse the proponent of IR, the abused proponent would probably say that the abuse is wrong—truly wrong—i.e., actually wrong for all, not just for him/herself. A person may mouth IR, but when I steal his iPod, he will probably say that’s truly wrong. A student may mouth IR but when I give her an F for actually excellent school work, she will probably say that’s truly unfair. This counts against IR. (Interestingly, if the IR proponent is okay with others abusing him/her, then the moral ideal/model that IR upholds is the masochist. Surely, this is weird, and also counts against IR.)

Problem 6: IR, if true, is useless in conflict resolution. Saying “You’re right if you feel you’re right” to a bully and the bullied, or to the abortionist doctor and the person who kills abortionist doctors, is a recipe for disaster. Morality is usually thought to be useful in social conflict. IR, however, simply stares blankly and shrugs its shoulders.

In view of these problems which arise logically from IR, it’s reasonable to conclude that individual moral relativism is flawed—logically, factually, and morally—and so should be rejected.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba.)

Thinking about names

2010-01-01T13:20:00.007-06:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen

(The Carillon, December 31, 2009)

Thinking about names

WARNING: The following topic is not on the list of usual matters taken up by Apologia; rather, for better or for worse, it is an attempt to end 2009 with a wee bit of humour.

I enjoy names. Not being called names, but the meaning of names.

Interestingly, some names fit their bearers like a glove.

I teach philosophy. The etymology of the word "philosophy" tells us that philosophy is, or is supposed to be, the love of wisdom. (The word philos is Greek for loving; the word sophia is Greek for wisdom.) It turns out that a very bright and wise colleague of mine from philosophy graduate school has the last name Wiseman. Professor Wiseman. Sigh. It is just sooo right.

It turns out too that there is a well-known philosopher whose name is John Wisdom. Professor Wisdom. Sigh. How wonderfully appropriate. I confess: When I think of philosophers Wiseman and Wisdom, there wells up in the depths of my heart a dark green gooey substance called envy.

But some names don't fit, or maybe they fit too well. And I don't envy the folks who bear these names.

Think of some of the financial scandals perpetrated in the not-so-distant past by some Christian televangelists. It turns out that I have a book on my shelf titled Introduction to Christian Ethics authored by a fellow whose name is Roger H. Crook. Go figure.

Speaking of books, a couple of years ago I received an advertisement from an academic publisher for a book titled Anxiety Disorders. One of the psychologists who authored this book has the name David Nutt. Dr. Nutt. I am not kidding.

Of course, the institution of marriage can do funny things to people’s names.

A philosopher acquaintance recently told me that he knows of a female ethicist named Sharp who married a man named Paine—and she combined her last name with his. Professor Sharp Paine. And some of my ethics students think ethics professors are a mere pain.

The nature of some names may actually be beneficial to others by encouraging the name-bearer to keep out of specific fields of employment. I knew a man whose last name was Coward. I shudder at the thought of him being an infantry officer. Major Coward. It just wouldn’t inspire confidence in the troops.

While on the topic of names and the military, please indulge me as I reminisce about a time at the dinner table when my wife’s and my two sons were quite young. During dinner I mentioned to our boys my penchant concerning the meaning of names. A bit later, just before desert, the boys were giggling, but with suspicious grins on their faces.

Carla and I asked what was going on. Our eldest responded politely with a question: "What if there was a soldier whose last name was Parts?" What if there were such a soldier, my wife and I asked. Both our sons quickly answered: "His name would be Private Parts!"

It’s been quite a few years, but I still laugh at our sons’ joke.

The year 2010 is just around the corner. I hereby wish my readers a Happy New Year—and I pray that you would be blessed by Him whose name is above all names.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba.)

Believing Christmas because of Easter

2009-12-17T19:54:00.011-06:00

Caravaggio's "Doubting Thomas"/ "The Incredulity of Saint Thomas" (c. 1602-03)

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, December 17, 2009)

Believing Christmas because of Easter

Christmas is the time of year to reflect on the birth of Jesus. The heart of the Christmas story is that Jesus is God (God the Son) come to earth as a human being. Jesus is Emmanuel—God with us.

It’s an interesting story. But why believe it?

This, it seems to me, is where publicly-accessible knowledge of the historical reality of Jesus’ subsequent death (30-something years later) and resurrection (a few days later yet) becomes crucially important.

If Easter is true, that is, if Jesus really resurrected after His death, then this event would constitute a miraculous sign, i.e., an extraordinary supernaturally-caused, empirically-observable event that provides grounds (1) for believing Jesus is who He claimed to be (God in the flesh) and (2) for placing our faith in Him (as Lord and Saviour).

Significantly, careful New Testament scholarship provides excellent historical reasons for believing that, in actual fact, Jesus was killed and subsequently resurrected bodily (physically).

Some contemporary critics, however, inspired by philosopher John Stuart Mill (1806-1873), object as follows: Even if Jesus’ resurrection occurred, isn’t it likely that the alleged miracle will someday be better explained naturalistically, i.e., as produced by hitherto unknown laws of nature, without recourse to the supernatural?

In reply, I think that a reasonable answer to this objection is No. Here are some reasons for thinking that Jesus’ resurrection is supernaturally caused.

Concerning death, we have excellent knowledge of what relevant natural causes can and cannot do. Our universal experience (with the exception of Jesus' case) over thousands of years is that dead people, when left to themselves, do not resurrect or transform themselves into living bodies made with rejuvenated flesh and new powers. (Reminder: we are talking here about resurrection, not mere resuscitation). Also, our knowledge of cell necrosis (cell death) tells us that dead bodies not only stay dead, if no intervention occurs, but also begin, irreversibly, to decay. Bodily decomposition starts within minutes after death and, after a day or more without refrigeration, renders resuscitation, let alone a resurrection (on naturalistic assumptions), physically impossible.

In terms of naturalistic causes, then, a resurrection is, as philosopher Francis Beckwith points out, "more than presently inexplicable.” In fact, the more we learn about nature, the more we know that naturalistic hypotheses are not even remotely possible as plausible accounts of a resurrection.

Of course, to think that there are some previously unknown natural laws waiting to be discovered may be reasonable in some not well understood fields of investigation (say, a healing of cancer as an apparent answer to prayer); and so in those fields one must explain why one thinks one is not being rash in saying those laws cannot be found (perhaps our bodies have built-in, non-miraculous healing powers which become activated when we exercise an attitude of faith).

The fact remains, however, that it is not reasonable to think this way in the well understood realm of human death. As philosopher C. Stephen Evans observes, “we surely know enough about the natural order to know that it is most unlikely that there could be any natural explanation for a person who has been dead for three days being restored to life."

What is worse (for naturalistic explanations), in the case of Jesus’ resurrection we also have the resurrectee claiming to be God, thereby further pointing to supernatural causation.

Thus, and contrary to what some critics would have us think, if Jesus’ resurrection were to occur, as the historical evidence strongly suggests, it is reasonable to conclude that Jesus’ resurrection would be a supernaturally caused sign—a miracle.

In view of the publicly accessible historicity of Easter, Christmas clearly is not just another religious story. Easter gives us good reason to think that the heart of the Christmas story—the story of the supernatural God becoming a human being—is true.

Jesus is Emmanuel—God with us. This, it seems to me, is life-changing information.

Merry Christmas!

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba.)

Skepticism about Evolution

2009-12-04T20:11:00.004-06:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen

(The Carillon, December 3, 2009)

Skepticism about Evolution

I am skeptical of (at least) one sense of evolution. To explain, I will do the following: First, I will clarify several senses of “evolution”; second, I will specify the sense of evolution about which I am skeptical; third, I will set out some reasons for my skepticism.

1. The word “evolution” has several meanings, which, for the sake of clarity and truth, should be kept distinct.

Evolution can mean mere physical change over time, as, say, stars “evolve”—i.e., change—after they burn for a few million years.

Or evolution can mean chemical evolution, that is, a coming together of non-living material stuff to form the first living cell.

Or evolution can mean common descent, which means that all organisms have the same ancestor somewhere in the distant past.

Or evolution can mean, as it usually does mean, neo-Darwinian evolution, which is to say that, after the first life has begun, natural selection operates on random genetic mutation to produce the various complex organs and forms of life we now observe.

Or evolution can mean a combination of all of the above.

Moreover (to add a bit more complexity to the issue), each of the above meanings of “evolution” or combinations thereof can be understood either theistically (i.e., as guided by the Creator who created matter and its properties/laws) or atheistically (as wholly unguided and undesigned).

Furthermore (to add one last wrinkle), “evolution” can also be understood in a much more limited neo-Darwinian sense, that is, as micro-evolution, which is natural selection operating on genetic mutation merely to produce small-scale changes in an organism’s development.

An example of such small-scale or micro-evolution would be the changes in the beak sizes of the finches Darwin observed on the Galapagos Islands, changes which occurred as the type of available food changed. In contrast, an example of macro or large-scale neo-Darwinian evolution would be the production, via natural selection and genetic mutation, of the beaks of Darwin’s finches, and the finches themselves, in the first place.

2. I am skeptical of “evolution”—whether understood theistically or atheistically—when it means large-scale neo-Darwinian evolution, that is, when it means that after the first life began, the various complex life forms we now witness are wholly or primarily due to natural selection operating on random genetic mutation.

3. Why am I skeptical? First, I think that the arguments for large-scale neo-Darwinian evolution are not strong. Also, there are some claims from important scientists and philosophers, claims about large-scale neo-Darwinian evolution, claims that push me further in the skeptical direction:

“Molecular evolution is not based on scientific authority. There is no publication in the scientific literature…that describes how molecular evolution of any real, complex, biochemical system either did occur or even might have occurred. There are assertions that such evolution occurred, but absolutely none are supported by pertinent experiments or calculations.” Michael Behe, Darwin’s Black Box (The Free Press, 1996, 2006). Behe is professor of biochemistry at Lehigh University, Pennsylvania.

“We must concede that there are presently no detailed Darwinian accounts of the evolution of any biochemical system, only a variety of wishful speculations.” Franklin Harold, The Way of the Cell (Oxford University Press, 2001). Harold is emeritus professor of biochemistry and molecular biology at Colorado State University. According to Oxford University Press, Harold is “one of the world’s most respected micro-biologists.”

"We are skeptical of claims for the ability of random mutation and natural selection to account for the complexity of life. Careful examination of the evidence for Darwinian theory should be encouraged.” This is from a 2008 document titled “A Scientific Dissent from Darwinism,” signed by 700 highly credentialed scientists. The list of scientists who signed this document can be found at the Discovery Institute’s Center for Science and Culture (click on "Dissent from Darwinism").

The Center for Science and Culture adds: “The list is growing and includes scientists from the US National Academy of Sciences, Russian, Hungarian and Czech National Academies, as well as from universities such as Yale, Princeton, Stanford, MIT, UC Berkeley, UCLA, and others.”

So, is it reasonable to be skeptical about large-scale neo-Darwinian evolution? I am inclined to think so.

P.S. I am inclined to think that it’s also reasonable to be skeptical about unguided chemical evolution, i.e., the purely accidental coming together of non-living material stuff to form the first living cell. But this is a topic for another column. See for starters my column “DNA & Intelligent Design” (March 26, 2009). See too Stephen C. Meyer’s recently published book Signature in the Cell: DNA and the Evidence for Intelligent Design (HarperOne, 2009).

P.P.S. For a fine debate between a highly-respected scientist and defender of large-scale neo-Darwinian evolution (Francisco Ayala) and a highly-respected philosopher and proponent of intelligent design (William Lane Craig), I encourage readers to check Apologetics315.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College. Van der Breggen’s views do not always reflect the views of his colleagues at the college at which he teaches. Some colleagues are young-earth literal six-day creationists, some are theistic evolutionists, and some are intelligent design proponents. Nevertheless, all are disciples of the Lord Jesus Christ.)

Stephen Hawking, the Big Bang, and the North Pole

2009-11-19T19:29:00.005-06:00

APOLOGIA

By Hendrik van der Breggen

(The Carillon, November 19, 2009)

Stephen Hawking, the Big Bang, and the North Pole

For many thoughtful people, it seems that if the big bang occurred, that is, if the physical universe—all matter/energy, space, and time—exploded into being out of nothing physical, then this would strongly suggest that there is a powerful cause of the universe. Because this powerful cause would transcend the physical universe, it could provide evidence (as a part of a cumulative case argument) for the existence of God.

According to some critics, however, talk of a cause of the universe's beginning should be dismissed as nonsense. Why? Because to ask what caused the big bang assumes that the universe's cause came "before" time, but time itself came into being at the big bang, and so to think that something comes “before” time as the cause of time is to think that there is time before time, which is silly.

In other words, as Cambridge physicist Stephen Hawking has famously pointed out, asking what caused the big bang is like asking "What is north of the North Pole?" It's logically absurd. So thinking that the big bang has a cause is logically absurd too.

The above criticism sounds good, and persuades many, but is it sound? That is to ask, is it reasonable to accept? We should think not.

The objection gains philosophical traction only if causality is essentially a temporal notion. That is, the objection works only under the assumption that all causes must precede their effects in time. But it turns out that causality is not an essentially temporal notion. It turns out that some causes occur with their effects simultaneously.

Significantly, this latter understanding of causality is all that is needed for the notion of the universe’s cause to remain within the realm of reason.

Think of a bicycle chain that moves the rear wheel sprocket. Or just consider the rear wheel sprocket moving the axle that moves the rear wheel. In these everyday cases there is simultaneous cause and effect. (Imagine too that the molecules of the sprocket and axle are “welded” together, so there is no time lag in the motion transfer.)

Or think of a ball sitting on a pillow for an eternity, causing an indentation on the pillow for all eternity.

In these instances of simultaneous cause and effect we see that some causes are (to use philosophical talk) ontologically prior to the effect, but not temporally prior. That is, they come first in terms of being, but not time. Although most causes do precede their effects in time (and no causes occur after their effects), and although we perceive simultaneous causation within time (we exist in time after all), it is nevertheless clear that causation is not essentially a temporal notion. Time is not a necessary condition of causality per se.

It's not unreasonable, then, to think that time's creation could occur simultaneously with its cause. Therefore, to talk of a cause of time is not logically absurd.

Contrary to what Hawking and company think, then, we are not asking something like "What is north of the North Pole?" Rather, we are asking something like "What is above the North Pole?" Because the answer to the latter question is not logically absurd, neither is the idea that the big bang—the beginning of all matter/energy, space, and time—has a cause.

Such a cause would seem to be not only very powerful and universe transcendent, but also timeless. Such characteristics strongly and reasonably suggest God.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba.)

P.S. The photo above is of the Aurora Borealis (Northern Lights) as viewed from the International Space Station Expedition 6.

Universe's Fine-Tuning vs. Multiple Universe Theory

2009-11-05T21:23:00.004-06:00

APOLOGIA

By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, November 5, 2009)

Universe’s Fine-tuning vs. Multiple Universe Theory

Contemporary science tells us that the initial conditions of the universe’s coming into being are exquisitely fine-tuned for life, so much so that many thoughtful people conclude that this fine-tuning is evidence of a supernatural intelligent designer.

The idea is this: Because there are an astronomical number of conditions that have to be “just right” for life to exist, and because life has intrinsic moral worth, it very much seems that there is a delicate orchestration of factors (instead of just a huge number of mere coincidences) aimed to bring about an end or value—and this smacks of intelligent design.

Thus, the universe’s fine-tuning for life provides one more sub-argument for a cumulative case argument for God’s existence.

Some critics, however, dismiss the above argument by making an appeal to what is called Multiverse or Multiple Universe Theory (MUT).

The idea is that our universe is but one of trillions or an infinite number of universes and so it is reasonable to think that the occurrence of the fine-tuning of our universe happened by undirected chance. Because trillions or an infinite number of arrows were shot, it is reasonable to think that no archery skill—that is, no direction by an intelligent agent—is required for an arrow to hit the bull’s-eye.

MUTs, however, are seriously problematic explanations, for (at least) five reasons, which have a cumulative force.

First, MUTs lack strong positive evidence. Scientist-theologian John Polkinghorne writes: "Science speaks only of one universe of our own experience. People try to trick out a 'many universe' account in sort of pseudo-scientific terms, but that is pseudo-science. It is a metaphysical guess that there might be many universes with different laws and circumstances."

In fact, as philosopher John Leslie points out, "all multiple universe theories are highly speculative and some may verge on the fantastic."

Moreover, even theoretical physicist Lee Smolin describes his own multiverse model as “frank speculation” and “fantasy.”

Second, MUTs require a "generator" to bring about the various different universes (to shoot the various arrows), but such a mechanism would have to be randomizing to ensure the eventual actualization of the very remote possibility of our universe (the bull's-eye), which seems unlikely to be the case. Indeed, as philosopher Robin Collins points out, for such a generator to ensure randomness would require fine-tuning—i.e., a "conspiracy of factors"—and, hence, would suggest a designer of the generator.

Third, MUTs seem less simple than design theory. An appeal to one very powerful and transcendent designing mind (or even a few thousand of such minds) seems more elegant than an appeal to gazillions of different universes (which probably would contain all sorts and multitudes of minds).

According to philosopher Richard Swinburne, "To postulate a trillion trillion other universes, rather than one God in order to explain the orderliness of our universe, seems the height of irrationality." In other words, MUTs seem very much to violate Ockham's Razor (the principle that in explaining X, entities are not to be multiplied beyond what is needed to explain X).

Fourth, the appeal to an MUT is not a natural extrapolation from our common experience.

As Collins observes, “In the case of fine-tuning, we already know that minds often produce fine-tuned devices, such as Swiss watches. Postulating God—a supermind—as the explanation of the [universe's] fine-tuning, therefore, is a natural extrapolation from what we already observe minds to do. In contrast, it is difficult to see how the atheistic many-universes hypothesis could be considered a natural extrapolation from what we observe.”

Fifth, the appeal to MUTs commits what philosopher William Dembski calls the inflationary fallacy, the mistake of "bolster[ing] an otherwise failing chance hypothesis by artificially inflating its probabilistic resources (i.e., the number of opportunities for the event)."

This fallacy is well illustrated by the following hypothetical example from philosopher William Lane Craig: “[A] card player who gets four aces every time he deals could explain this away by saying, ‘there are an infinite number of universes with poker games going on in them, and therefore, in some of them someone always by chance gets four aces every time he deals, and—lucky me!—I just happen to be in one of those universes.’"

In other words, making an appeal to the existence of a multitude of other universes to avoid the design inference seems very much to be a move that is philosophically dubious.

Thus, the universe’s initial conditions, which are exquisitely fine-tuned for life, continue to point to an intelligent designer.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba.)

The Question-Begging Fallacy, God's Word, and Apologetics

2009-10-22T20:23:00.010-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen

(The Carillon, October 22, 2009)

The Question-Begging Fallacy, God’s Word, and Apologetics

A fallacy is a mistake in reasoning or argument. Some fallacies are so common that they have been given their own names. The fallacy of question-begging occurs when an argument assumes as proven that which is at issue. In other words, the conclusion, which is the claim in dispute, is used as a premise, which is provided as support for the claim in dispute—and the result is that the disputed claim is provided as support for itself. Appropriately, the fallacy of question-begging is also known as circular reasoning.

Sometimes the question-begging fallacy is easy to spot. Consider the following lone argument presented by a lawyer whose job is to establish the defendant’s guilt in a murder trial: “Joe is the murderer, therefore he should be found guilty of murder.” Clearly, if the issue is whether Joe actually did the crime, then merely asserting that Joe is the murderer is to assume as proven that which is at issue, which is to beg the question.

In other words, the argument is circular: Joe is guilty (conclusion), because Joe is guilty (premise). [The disputed claim is offered as support for the disputed claim, i.e., the conclusion is offered as the premise.] What is needed is evidence of Joe’s actual doing of the crime, that is, what is needed are grounds which establish Joes’ guilt. Such evidence could consist of an accumulation of the following: Joe’s footprints at the scene of the crime, Joe’s fingerprints on the murder weapon, gun powder residue on Joe’s hand, the victim’s blood on Joe’s jacket, credible testimony from a witness who saw Joe commit the killing, etc. (For more about this sort of evidence, see TV shows such as CSI New York, CSI Miami, CSI Las Vegas, CSI Ad Infinitum, CSI Ad Nauseum.)

Sometimes the question-begging fallacy is not quite as easy to spot, especially when it comes to religious or worldview matters. Consider the argument set out in the following discussion:

· Believer: “The Bible (or Qur’an, etc.) is the Word of God.”
· Skeptic: “Why should I think that?”
· Believer: “The Bible (or Qur’an, etc.) says it’s the Word of God, and we should believe whatever the Bible (Qur’an, etc.) says, because it’s the Word of God.”
· Skeptic: “Umm, there’s something wrong here.”

It seems to me that the skeptic is correct here. If the issue (point of dispute) is whether the Bible (or Qur’an, etc.) is the Word of God, then simply restating the issue (point of dispute) as a premise—i.e., that the Bible (etc.) is the Word of God—in support of the conclusion—i.e., that the Bible (etc.) is the Word of God—is to commit the question-begging fallacy. It’s to assume as established that which is at issue. It’s to argue in a circle.

In such a dispute, what is needed is some way to break out of the circle. That is, what is needed is some evidence or grounds for thinking that the Bible (or Qur’an, etc.) is true or at least contains important truths—in the mundane, everyday, lower-case “t” sense of “truth”. Such evidence or grounds could consist of an accumulation of the following: the book’s historical accuracy (especially concerning its central figure), its fit with what we know of the cosmos (especially the findings of the sciences as well as the very possibility of doing science in the first place), its accuracy in understanding the human condition (including our apparent brokenness or penchant to fail at love), plus its moral fruit (that is, its overall impact on the world in spite of the obvious failures of those who don’t practice its core doctrines).

In a world in which various worldviews (whether religious or secular) compete for our deepest allegiances, but are in their core tenets mutually contradictory (e.g., the Bible teaches that Jesus is God in the flesh and that Jesus was killed and subsequently resurrected; the Qur’an denies both of these teachings), to commit the question-begging fallacy in defence of one’s worldview is not at all helpful for those who desire to know or reasonably believe which worldview (if any) is really the way, the truth, and the life.

Hence, there is a need for truth-seeking apologetics, done by Christians, Muslims, Atheists, and whomever—and, of course, done with gentleness and respect.

P.S. On a more personal note, in my journey through life I have come to believe that the New Testament documents of the Bible provide us with good publicly-accessible historical reasons for thinking that the man Jesus, who identifies himself as the biblical God, actually lived and died and resurrected bodily from death. This, it seems to me, is good grounds for taking Jesus’ teachings to heart and worshipping Him as Lord.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, Ph.D., is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba.)

Universe's Fine-Tuning vs. Anthropic Objection

2009-10-09T11:32:00.006-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, October 8, 2009)

Universe’s Fine-tuning vs. Anthropic Objection

Contemporary science tells us that the initial conditions of the universe’s coming into being are exquisitely fine-tuned for life, so much so that many thoughtful people conclude that this fine-tuning is evidence of a supernatural intelligent designer.

The idea is this: Because there are an astronomical number of conditions that have to be “just right” for life to exist, and because life (especially human life) has intrinsic moral worth, it very much seems that there is an orchestration of factors (instead of just a huge number of mere coincidences) aimed to bring about an end or value—and this smacks of intelligent design.

Thus, the universe’s fine-tuning for life provides one more sub-argument for a cumulative case argument for God’s existence.

However, some critics, such as Richard Dawkins (author of The God Delusion and professor of the public understanding of science at Oxford University), object to the fine-tuning argument on the basis of what is sometimes called the Anthropic Principle.

According to this objection, it is not surprising that we observe the large number of apparent coincidences which make the universe's initial conditions conducive to life. Why isn't it surprising? Because, Dawkins and company point out, those conditions obviously constitute the set of conditions required for our existence. If those coincidences didn’t occur as they did, then we wouldn’t be around to observe them, let alone think about them.

Therefore (so the objection goes) there is no puzzle or mystery that suggests intelligent design. In fact, Dawkins asserts, the Anthropic Principle “provides a rational, design-free explanation.”

The objection sounds good and persuades many, but is it sound? That is to ask, is the objection rationally acceptable?

We should think not.

Consider the following thought experiment, set out by the philosopher William Lane Craig (in a debate at Queen’s University in the early 1990s): "You're dragged before a firing squad of a hundred trained marksmen with rifles aimed at your heart; you hear the command; you hear the roar of the guns; and you see that you're still alive, that they all missed [i.e., you see one hundred 'apparent coincidences']. You say: 'That's not surprising, because their missing is obviously required for me to be alive.'"

Now, Craig astutely points out: "The fact that you are making the observation is not surprising given that they missed. But the 'coincidence' of missing needs explanation!"

Similarly, the fact that we are observing the large (astronomical) number of "apparent coincidences" which led to life in the universe isn't surprising given that these coincidences occurred. But the incredible life-sustaining/life-generating "coincidences" themselves still call out for explanation!

Craig adds (in an academic article on the same topic, apparently not read by Dawkins): "Certainly we should not be surprised that we do not observe features of the universe which are incompatible with our own existence. But it does not follow that we should not be surprised that we do observe features of the universe which are compatible with our existence."

In other words, merely pointing to the conditions required for our existence, as Dawkins and company do, does not explain those conditions. The conditions that are favourable or “propitious” (Dawkins’ word) to our existence continue to call out for explanation. What is worse (for Dawkins and company), merely asserting that our capacity to notice these conditions is the result of some required favourable conditions doesn’t provide any explanation of the conditions themselves, let alone a “rational” explanation or a “rational design-free explanation.”

Here is the point: Dawkins and company confuse pointing to a condition with explaining that condition, but the former is not an instance of the latter.

Think about it. Yes, the conditions that are favourable or “propitious” to our existence are necessary for us to be alive and able to notice those conditions. But the question remains: Why do those conditions exist? Pointing out that the conditions are needed for life and observation is interesting, to be sure, but leaving it at that doesn’t account for their existence in the first place, which is the issue at hand.

Thus, the fine-tuning argument is untouched by the so-called Anthropic objection. The universe’s initial conditions, which are in fact exquisitely fine-tuned for life, continue to point to an intelligent designer.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba.)

Kalam Cosmological Argument

2009-09-24T19:54:00.007-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, September 24, 2009)

Kalam Cosmological Argument

The kalam cosmological argument is an argument for God’s existence which has its origin in medieval Islamic philosophy and has been rejuvenated and defended by contemporary philosophers William Lane Craig and J. P. Moreland. Significantly, the argument can be used as part of a cumulative case argument for the existence of the Christian God.

Here is a sketch of the kalam cosmological argument:

· Main premise 1: The universe began to exist.
· Main premise 2: Whatever begins to exist has a cause.
· Sub-conclusion: The universe has a cause for its beginning.
· Further inferences: This cause has some attributes that are very suggestive of God.

Arguments in favour of main premise 1—that the universe began to exist—are based on (a) philosophy and (b) science. (a) Logico-philosophical problems associated with the existence of an actual infinite collection of past events point to a finite past. That is, an actual infinite collection of discrete parts implies logical contradictions, so an actual infinite past is not possible, so the universe has a beginning. (b) Scientific evidence points to a finite past. That is, according to standard big bang theory, the universe—i.e., all physical matter/energy, space, and time—had a beginning.

Arguments in favour of main premise 2—that whatever begins to exist has a cause—are based on (c) the rational intuition/insight that out of nothing nothing comes (think about it) and (d) our empirical experience that all things which begin to exist are caused to exist (as substantiated by science and everyday life).

From the truth of the two main premises, it follows logically that the sub-conclusion—that the universe has a cause for its beginning—is true too.

Now, from the sub-conclusion several inferences can be made quite reasonably.

Inference 1: The cause of the beginning of the universe is physically transcendent, i.e., immaterial. Why? Because in the beginning the cause brings all of the universe’s physical matter/energy and space into being in the first place.

Inference 2: The cause of the beginning of the universe is eternal in the sense of timeless. Why? Because in the beginning the cause brings about the beginning of time.

Inference 3: The cause of the beginning of the universe is very powerful, if not all-powerful. Why? Because in the beginning the cause brings about the beginning of the universe.

To be sure, many objections have been raised to the above premises and inferences. Having taken several years to study these objections, I (and others much brighter than me) have come to the conclusion that the objections fail.

To gain a sense of the force of these objections and how they fail, here are two popular objections (aimed at main premise 2).

Objection 1: If everything has a cause, then the alleged God must have a cause, so if we’re going to arbitrarily stop with God, why not arbitrarily stop with the universe and skip God? This objection persuades many, but it commits the straw man fallacy (i.e., the mistake of misrepresenting the opponent’s position). The objection fails because it misrepresents main premise 2, which says whatever begins to exist has a cause, not everything has a cause. Also, we have evidence for the universe’s beginning, but we have no evidence for a beginning of the cause of the universe’s beginning.

Objection 2: In the quantum realm (the realm of the very small) we have evidence of uncaused beginnings when a quantum particle pops into existence in a quantum vacuum, so (so the objection goes) it’s not the case that whatever begins to exist has a cause. This objection seems persuasive, but it commits the fallacy of problematic premise (i.e., the mistake of using a false or otherwise faulty claim as a premise). The objection fails because the quantum vacuum is not nothing—it is, rather, a sea of energy—and so the particle’s coming into existence is embedded in a physically necessary set of causal conditions, which means that it does not come onto the scene causelessly.

Interestingly, the kalam cosmological argument makes it reasonable to think that a very powerful, physically transcendent, and timeless cause of the universe exists. This argument can be coupled with other evidence—for examples, the fine-tuning of the universe’s initial conditions, the language/code in DNA, the molecular machinery in the cell, the intrinsic worth of human beings, the peculiarity of human free will, the marvel of the human mind and its capacities (which go way beyond what’s needed for mere survival), plus, and most importantly, the historical evidence for Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection (as found in the New Testament)—and all of this adds up to a powerful cumulative case argument for the existence of the Christian God.

Yes, a leap of faith (i.e., belief and trust in Jesus Christ) is still required, but it needn’t be a blind leap.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba.)

On Faith Seeking Understanding

2009-09-10T21:34:00.006-05:00

APOLOGIA

By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, September 10, 2009)

On Faith Seeking Understanding

Anselm of Canterbury (1033-1109) is famous for the motto “faith seeking understanding.” It may be tempting to take this motto as a criticism of Christian apologetics, i.e., that to become a Christian one should first take a leap of faith blindly—i.e., without evidence or reason as a guide—and only subsequently come, via reason, to an understanding of the faith from within the faith position or paradigm. Interestingly, this faith-first-reason-later criticism of Christian apologetics seems not to be what Anselm had in mind.

(Caveat: In what follows I will defend an understanding of Anselm, which, although there isn’t a complete scholarly consensus on this, seems to me where the preponderance of good reasons point.)

To understand that Anselm is not a proponent of a faith-first-reason-later, anti-apologetics understanding of the phrase “faith seeking understanding,” it helps to understand what Anselm means by “faith.”

According to the respected contemporary Anselm-scholar Thomas Williams (in Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy), “Faith for Anselm is more a volitional state than an epistemic [knowledge] state: it is love for God and a drive to act as God wills.” So, Williams goes on to suggest, Anselm’s phrase “faith seeking understanding” is better understood as “an active love of God seeking a deeper knowledge of God.”

But there is more. As Cardinal Avery Dulles argues (in A History of Apologetics), Anselm’s own words clearly show that Anselm’s arguments concerning God are intended not merely to edify intellectually those who already believe or already have faith (though this project falls within the scope of Anselm’s intent), but also to convince via reason those persons who do not believe or do not have faith.

Anselm writes (in his treatise Monologion): “If anyone does not know, either because he has not heard or because he does not believe, that there is [a God who has various biblical characteristics], I think he could at least convince himself of most of these things by reason alone, if he is even moderately intelligent.”

Also, Anselm sets out (in his treatise Proslogion) his famous “ontological” argument for God’s existence—not just for believers to understand God as “that than which nothing greater can be conceived,” but also to convince “the fool” who, according to Psalms 14:1 and 53:1, “says in his heart, ‘God does not exist.’” (Anselm argues that from the very idea of God as “that than which nothing greater can be conceived,” i.e., the very idea of God as the greatest conceivable being, an idea which even the unbeliever holds when he/she denies God’s existence, it follows logically that God exists, because if God didn’t exist, then God, which is the greatest conceivable being, would also not be the greatest conceivable being, which is absurd.)

Here is the philosophical-apologetical upshot. The motto “faith seeking understanding,” as understood by Anselm, is definitely a mandate to seek to understand via reason the deep theological truths already accepted by faith. However, this does not preclude the careful use of reason to help people come to faith in the first place, nor does it encourage a blind leap of faith. Rather (and regardless of whether or not Anselm’s arguments for God’s existence and God’s attributes are successful), it’s reasonable to think that the motto, when taken in the context of Anselm’s arguments, commends the careful use of reason to help unbelievers come to faith.

Yes, it should be conceded that one can take a blind leap of faith and subsequently hope to achieve understanding. However, in a world in which competing and contradictory voices call for our religious or secular allegiance—a world in which deceiving spirits (whether human or demonic) also exist—blind leaps of faith can be dangerous, if not disastrous. But this is where some good news enters into the picture: God, via our humble and Holy Spirit-directed use of good reasons (as well as via any other means God may choose), can encourage the repentant lover of truth to place his/her open-eyed faith in Him who is the Truth.

This, it seems to me, is consistent with Christian Scripture. Salvation is by faith (and faith only) in Jesus Christ, i.e., in God the Son who came to Earth as a human being to live, die for our sins, and resurrect bodily, thereby revealing God’s love for us (John 3:16). However, to the curious or questioning unbeliever, Christians are also asked to give, with gentleness and respect, an apologia—a reasoned defence—for their hope (1 Peter 3:15).

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba.)

Pointless Evil Versus God's Existence?

2009-08-27T19:41:00.017-05:00

Associated Press: In this photo distributed by the official Xinhua news agency, rescuers search for students at Juyuan Middle School in Juyuan Township of Dujiangyan City, about 100 kilometers from the epicenter in Wenchuan county of southwest China's Sichuan province, on Monday May 12, 2008. Nearly 900 students here were feared buried when a high school building collapsed in the earthquake, Xinhua said. (AP Photo/Xinhua, Chen Xie)

APOLOGIA

By Hendrik van der Breggen

(The Carillon, August 27, 2009)

Pointless Evil Versus God’s Existence?

Some critics object to the Christian God’s existence as follows: If God exists, then there shouldn’t be any pointless evil in the world; but there is pointless evil in the world; therefore, God does not exist.

Should we be persuaded by this objection? I don’t think so.

Let’s get clear on the objection. A pointless evil is a horrendous event for which there is no moral justification. For examples of such events, critics point to the deaths of innocent schoolchildren in an earthquake, or, say, to a fawn severely burned in a forest fire, suffering several days before dying. Surely, an all-good God would want to stop such pointless evils. Surely, an all-knowing God would know how to stop these evils. Surely, an all-powerful God could stop such evils. But the pointless evils exist. Therefore, God does not exist. Or so the objection goes.

The objection seems strong: there definitely are horrendous evils in the world; many of these evils do appear pointless; plus their horror tugs powerfully at our emotions.

Seemingly strong objection or not, wisdom requires that we should think carefully about matters having to do with God (whether one is a believer or not). Significantly, it turns out that careful thinking can weaken the logical if not emotional force of the above objection.

Two points require attention.

First, if we assume, for the sake of argument (as the objector does), that there is a God, then it follows logically that we should expect a huge intellectual gap between the human mind and the divine mind. Put it this way: If there is a God, then we humans would be like kindergarteners and God would be like Einstein, but much much smarter. In other words, intellectual humility is philosophically appropriate here.

Second (following closely on the heels of the first point), the critics’ claim that there is pointless evil in the world should be revised, for accuracy’s sake, to read as follows: there is apparently pointless evil in the world.

Think about it. If we kindergarteners happen to be with Einstein in his laboratory, Einstein would have reasons for doing what he is doing—and we would not be privy to all of his reasons. Why not? Because we simply couldn’t understand them. So, to a kindergartener some things Einstein does would appear pointless, whereas Einstein would know that they are actually not pointless.

Allow me to drive home the previous point. In the book The Fight (InterVarsity Press 1976), former University of Manitoba psychiatry professor John White (1924-2002) tells of an incident when he and his toddler son were far from home (and far from medical help) and the little boy fell, deeply gashing his chin. Realizing immediate medical attention was required, White used what was available—eyebrow tweezers, thread, household needles, but no pain relievers—and proceeded to stitch up his tiny son’s large wound.

White writes: “I agonized over [my son’s] ordeal as I gripped his tender skin with eyebrow tweezers and brutally jabbed a sewing needle again and again into his chin.”

We can easily imagine the bewildered and terrified boy saying or thinking something like the following (if he had the vocabulary): “Daddy, please don’t hurt me! Why are you doing this to me? I thought you loved me?! I don’t understand! Please don’t let this pointless evil continue…”

On the Christian view of God, our knowledge situation is like that of the toddler who is suffering apparently pointless evil, and the father is like God who has reasons—morally sufficient reasons—for allowing the pain. Like the boy, we are simply not privy to all of God’s reasons.

Significantly, given the evidence of God’s power, knowledge, and care in having created life itself and a universe finely-tuned for life, plus given the evidence of this God coming to our world in the man Jesus to suffer and die for us, as well as defeat death via His resurrection—that is, given this wonderful evidence of divine love—it is reasonable to believe that, even though we may not know all of God’s reasons for allowing apparently pointless evils, God has good reasons.

Yes, horrendous evils are horrendously evil, but, if God exists, it’s reasonable to think they’re not pointless, appearances to the contrary. Therefore, the objection fails.

And hope prevails.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, located in Otterburne, Manitoba, Canada.)

The Straw Man Fallacy

2009-08-13T13:32:00.005-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen

(The Carillon, August 13, 2009)

The Straw Man Fallacy

A fallacy is a mistake in reasoning or argument. Some fallacies are so common that they have been given a name. The straw man fallacy occurs when a person criticizes a weak position that an author did not really hold and then concludes—on the basis of the criticized misrepresentation—that the author’s real position is logically flawed.

In other words, instead of the real flesh-and-blood version of the opponent’s view or argument, the critic sets out a straw scarecrow or fake target-practice version of the opponent’s view or argument, and then proceeds to knock down the straw version as if it were the real McCoy.

But finding a logical flaw in a misrepresentation isn’t the same as finding a logical flaw in the original argument.

Some instances of the straw man fallacy are easy to spot. Jane says to John: “Valentine’s Day is overrated, so please don’t purchase me any expensive gifts.” John later tells Jake: “Jane thinks Valentine’s Day exploits men, so she should be okay with me not giving her anything.” Clearly, John has misrepresented Jane’s view (and John may be in some serious trouble).

But other instances of the straw man fallacy are not so easy to spot.

In the preface of an academic book criticizing Intelligent Design theory, Richard Dawkins (Oxford University’s professor for the public understanding of science) writes the following as a summary representation and dismissal of the case for Intelligent Design: “[Intelligent Design] leaps straight from the difficulty—‘I can’t see any solution to the problem’—to the cop-out—‘Therefore a Higher Power must have done it.’” [Richard Dawkins, "Foreword," in Niall Shanks, God, the Devil, and Darwin: A Critique of Intelligent Design Theory (Oxford & New York: Oxford University Press, 2004), ix.]

In other words, Dawkins characterizes Intelligent Design (ID) as an argument from ignorance or gaps in our knowledge: I don’t know how X happened, therefore X must have been due to an intelligent designer—and, of course, such an argument is weak (a “cop-out”).

If this is what ID actually does, then Dawkins would have a point. Dawkins’ point is beside the point, however, because he misrepresents the view he is criticizing.

In my study of ID literature (for part of my PhD), I found that ID proponents do not argue, “I can’t see any solution to the problem…therefore a Higher Power did it.” Rather, they argue in a much more sophisticated manner, as follows: (1) The scientific community knows that, after years of investigating X and learning about nature’s capacities regarding X, there is much positive evidence for thinking that non-intelligent causes are not able to produce X; (2) the more we investigate X, the more we know that the structure of X bears features that closely resemble the effects of known intelligent causes; (3) therefore, in view of what we know, it is reasonable to think that an intelligent cause is responsible for X; (4) of course, we could be mistaken, but this is where the known evidence presently points us.

In other words, and contrary to what Dawkins would have us believe, ID’s appeal to an intelligent cause is based on what we know, not on what we don’t know. It’s based (tentatively) on positive knowledge, not on knowledge gaps or ignorance.

In the above case, then, Dawkins commits the straw man fallacy: he criticizes ID by misrepresenting it as a feeble straw caricature.

Whether we agree with Intelligent Design or not, this principle of careful logical thinking remains: If we are going to critique a view, we should at least represent it accurately. No straw men allowed.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba.)

Hiatus

2009-07-07T21:38:00.005-05:00

APOLOGIA

By Hendrik van der Breggen

(July 7, 2009)

Hiatus

Apologia will cease publication for a few weeks so its author can focus on some other matters. The picture posted above is there merely because it is colourful and attractive. The author will be in his office, which isn't close to any beaches, as far as he is aware. Cheers!

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba.)

The Ad Hominem Fallacy

2009-07-06T19:56:00.007-05:00

APOLOGIABy Hendrik van der Breggen

(The Carillon, July 2, 2009)

The Ad Hominem Fallacy
A fallacy is a mistake in reasoning or argument. Some fallacies are so common that they have been given their own names. The ad hominem fallacy is the mistake of criticizing an arguer instead of his/her argument, when doing so is not relevant. (Argumentum ad hominem is Latin for “argument to/against the man.”)

The ad hominem fallacy occurs when something about the arguer’s person—his/her character, attitude, ethnicity, race, religion, sex, circumstance, or even behaviour—is attacked instead of the truth claims or logical structure of the argument presented, when this something about the arguer’s person has no bearing on the truth or logic of the argument presented.

Some instances of the ad hominem fallacy are easy to spot. Consider the following arguments:

“Einstein is Jewish, therefore his theory of relativity should be rejected.”

“Your doctor is a woman, therefore don’t believe what she says about prostate cancer.”

Clearly, in the above arguments the premise (i.e., the bit before “therefore”) is not relevant to the conclusion (the bit after “therefore”).

But some instances of the ad hominem fallacy are not so easy to spot.

Consider an example from the abortion debate. A pro-life spokesperson—a man—has just set out several detailed arguments for thinking that what is aborted is in fact a human being with the right to life. After his presentation, someone from the audience says the following (loudly and angrily): “You are a man, therefore your arguments against abortion don’t count!”

The above “critique” commits the ad hominem fallacy.

The arguer (the pro-life spokesperson) is being criticized (for being male) resulting in the dismissal of the arguer’s argument (his case concerning the fetus’s status as a human being having rights). Neglected by the critic, however, is the fact that an argument should be assessed on the basis of its merits (or lack thereof), not on the basis of whether the argument has been set out by a male or a female.

The crucial but missed issue is whether the argument is logically cogent; the sex/gender of the arguer is wholly beside the point.

Now consider an example from the homosexuality debate. A gentleman respectfully sets out an argument for questioning the wisdom of celebrating Gay Pride parades, which promote homosexual sex. His argument appeals (1) to a couple of serious medical problems associated with some homosexual sexual practices, especially for males, and (2) to the apparent general difficulty of homosexual couples maintaining long-term monogamous relationships. The response from several critics (stated loudly and angrily): the man is a “homophobe,” therefore we should ignore him.

The above “critique” also commits the ad hominem fallacy.

First, it is important to note that a person can have legitimate, reasonable concerns about a behaviour if there are in fact some serious medical and/or social health issues associated with the behaviour. In other words, not all such concerns are irrational fears or phobias. (As politically incorrect as this may sound, the public does have a legitimate interest in behaviour that may harm people, cost public health dollars, and/or promote domestic arrangements which aren’t in the best interests of children.)

Second, neglected by the critics is the fact (again) that an argument should be assessed on the basis of its merits (or lack thereof), not on the basis of whether the argument has been set out by a homophobe or a non-homophobe.

The crucial but missed issue is whether the argument is logically cogent; the homophobic/non-homophobic attitude of the arguer is wholly beside the point.

A homophobic attitude of the arguer might provide grounds to suspect that the arguer’s argument is poorly constructed; nevertheless, the argument itself should be assessed to determine whether it is in fact poorly constructed.

Of course, sometimes ad hominem arguments are not fallacious, as, say, when a smart lawyer presents good evidence for thinking that a witness is not trustworthy and so the witness’s testimony should not be accepted.

How, then, can we tell the difference between acceptable and non-acceptable ad hominem arguments? Answer: Via the art of critical thinking—coupled with the courage not to be intimidated by irrelevant personal attacks.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba.)

More Critical Thinking Clarifications: Tolerance vs. Tolerance

2009-06-18T14:09:00.007-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen
(The Carillon, June 18, 2009)

More Critical Thinking Clarifications: Tolerance vs. Tolerance

In previous installments of Apologia we disentangled three blurred conceptual distinctions which hinder the art of argument and critical thinking: judge vs. judge (i.e., damn vs. cognitive discernment), argument vs. argument (i.e., quarrel vs. premises supporting a conclusion), and opinion vs. opinion (i.e., mere guess vs. reasonable belief).

This week we will disentangle a fourth blurred distinction: tolerance vs. tolerance.

“Be tolerant” is today’s oft-heard moral imperative. This principle of tolerance sounds good, but critical thinkers should ask: Is it sound?

Answer: No and yes.

It turns out that there are two senses of “tolerance.” Let’s call them tolerance 1 and tolerance 2. (If my labels seem to lack imagination, blame Dr. Seuss.)

Tolerance 1 is the contemporary popular understanding of tolerance. On this understanding, all views or lifestyles are accepted as somehow equal and true and good. “It’s all interpretation,” so a view/behaviour may be “true for you, but not for me” (and vice versa).

According to tolerance 1, you are intolerant if you disagree with someone’s ideas or conduct, that is, if you think someone is actually mistaken or wrong. According to contemporary popular culture, such intolerance is always a sin.

Sin or no sin, tolerance 1 is false. From the point of view of reason and morality, it’s simply not the case that all ideas and acts are equal, it’s simply not the case that all interpretations are equal.

Think about it. That the Holocaust occurred is true and well supported by evidence, whereas the belief to the contrary is false and not well supported by evidence. That 5+5=10 is true logically, whereas 5+5=11 isn’t true logically.

Think about it some more. Western democracy is a better idea morally than a Nazi government (because the former tends to respect the intrinsic moral worth of people whereas the latter does not). Talking with one’s spouse to resolve a dispute is a better idea morally than beating one’s spouse (because ditto). Child care is a better idea morally than child abuse (because ditto). You get the picture.

Now, consider tolerance 2, which is the classic understanding of tolerance. Tolerance 2 is the practice of forbearance (i.e., patience, self-control, and respect in the face of provocation) toward other persons who hold beliefs or engage in conduct with which we strongly disagree. It’s a willingness to accept a person’s right to espouse a view or engage in a behaviour even though we think the idea is mistaken or the conduct unwise or even immoral.

According to tolerance 2, intolerance is not always a sin. We may be appropriately intolerant of an idea if the idea is truly false and can be shown to be false, and we may be appropriately intolerant of a behavior if the behavior is truly harmful to others and can be shown to be harmful to others.

For example, according to tolerance sense 2, teachers are appropriately intolerant of false answers on an exam and of bullies on the school playground. Also, judges are appropriately intolerant of perjury and of murderers. Also, citizens are appropriately intolerant of governments or other organizations which engage in disinformation or commit (or prepare to commit) genocide.

Clearly, the classic understanding of tolerance (tolerance 2) is superior, intellectually and morally, when compared to the contemporary popular understanding of tolerance (tolerance 1).

Of course, the question now arises: Who’s to say what’s true and good? That is to ask: How do we arbitrate between competing claims about what’s true and good?

Answer: We are to say what’s true and good. How? By discerning what’s true and good via critical thinking—i.e., careful investigation coupled with a humble and truth-seeking heart.

Prayer is helpful too.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba.)

P.S. The photo above is of the Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington D.C., shortly after white supremacist Holocaust-denier James W. von Brunn went on a shooting spree, killing security guard Stephen T. Johns.

Critical Thinking Clarifications Continued: Opinion vs. Opinion

2009-06-04T20:52:00.007-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen

(The Carillon, June 4, 2009)

Critical Thinking Clarifications Continued: Opinion vs. Opinion

In contemporary popular culture the art of argument and critical thinking seems to have become a sometimes forgotten art, if not a lost art. Moreover, lack of proficiency in this art seems due in part to a blurring of (at least) four important conceptual distinctions.

In a previous installment of Apologia we disentangled two of these blurred distinctions: judge vs. judge (damn vs. cognitive discernment), and argument vs. argument (quarrel vs. premises supporting a conclusion). This week we will disentangle a third blurred distinction: opinion vs. opinion.

The following claim often signals the end of what may have begun as an interesting conversation about an important topic: “Everyone is entitled to their opinion.” The idea is that all opinions are equal, and so we can’t go any further intellectually. In other words: please shut up.

Legally and politically, the claim that everyone is entitled to their opinion is true (at least in most Western countries). Logically and evidentially, however, the claim often is not true.

In other words, yes, we do have the right to hold any opinion, but that doesn’t automatically make the opinion right. I have the right to believe that the moon is made of cheese, but that doesn’t mean the moon is made of cheese. Members of the Heaven’s Gate religious cult have the right to believe that killing themselves will get them onto a spaceship behind a comet, but that doesn’t make this religious claim reasonable to believe.

Also, yes, we do have the right to hold any opinion, but that doesn’t automatically make the opinion wrong either. It could be that an opinion corresponds with the facts. In my opinion, the moon is made of some sort of rock. In my opinion, there’s no good evidence for thinking that suicide is a ticket to ride on a spaceship.

To avoid being bamboozled by everyone-is-entitled-to-their-opinion, careful thinkers should make a distinction between (a) mere opinion and (b) opinion as reasonable belief. Careful thinkers should also understand that these sorts of opinion are on opposite ends of a continuum.

On the mere opinion end of the continuum, an opinion is basically a guess or an ungrounded intellectual stab at getting something right. For example, in my (mere) opinion, when my car engine sputters it’s because of some moisture in the gas line. I confess: I am not mechanically inclined, so I’m guessing—and I’m probably mistaken. The sputtering is probably due to dirty spark plugs, or a plugged air filter, or a malfunctioning carburetor, or…. You get the picture. (And, yes, unscrupulous mechanics usually smile with dollar signs in their eyes when they see me walk into their garage.)

On the other end of the continuum, we have opinion as reasonable belief. Such an opinion is well supported by good arguments and evidence and so we are justified in our confidence in thinking the opinion is probably true. Such opinion verges on knowledge or perhaps even is knowledge.

For example, my son’s opinion that his BMW has more horsepower than Ma and Pa’s ancient Mazda is an opinion that’s supported not just by the wonderful (but all too short) drive I was allowed to have in the BMW, but also by various reports from automotive experts. My son’s opinion is not a mere opinion; it’s a reasonable belief.

Another example: Let’s say that you have five doctors’ opinions which say you have cancer. Surely, it would be reasonable to think that you do have cancer! (Hopefully you don’t have cancer, but you get the point.)

In between the two ends of the opinion continuum—i.e., between mere opinion and opinion as reasonable belief—we have opinions that are either weakly or strongly supported, depending on the quality of the evidence and arguments that have been mustered.

So, what should we do the next time we set out a claim backed up with some good reasons and then someone dismisses our view saying, “Well, that’s just your opinion” or “Everyone has a right to their opinion”? We can respond (politely), “Yes, this is my opinion, but it’s not a mere opinion; it’s a reasonable opinion. I’ve got some good reasons for it. So which of these reasons do you think are problematic, and what are your reasons for thinking this?”

Happily, having dispensed with the mind-numbing everyone-is-entitled-to-their-opinion mantra, we could now have a conversation that actually respects the mind of the person with whom we’re talking.

Next week: tolerance vs. tolerance.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba.)

Critical Thinking Clarifications: Judge vs. Judge, Argument vs. Argument

2009-05-21T13:50:00.015-05:00

APOLOGIA
By Hendrik van der Breggen

(The Carillon, May 21, 2009)

Critical Thinking Clarifications: Judge vs. Judge, Argument vs. Argument

Part of the core of a liberal arts education is the art of argument and critical thinking. I hope I don’t sound snobby saying so, but in contemporary popular culture the art of argument and critical thinking seems to have become a sometimes forgotten art, if not a lost art. Moreover, lack of proficiency in this art seems due in part to a blurring of (at least) four important conceptual distinctions.

In today’s installment of Apologia I would like to disentangle two of these blurred distinctions.

Blurred distinction #1: Judge vs. judge

“Don’t be judgmental,” we are often told. Many people today take this to mean that we should not judge positions/ views as true or false, plausible or implausible, right or wrong. With all due respect, these people are mistaken.

Yes, of course we shouldn’t be judgmental if by “judge” we mean to dismiss another person as morally inferior or worthless (usually when compared to oneself) or we mean to damn that other person (to hell). After all, Jesus said, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged” (Matthew 7:1). It would seem that this sort of judging is God’s job, not ours.

However, Jesus also said, “Stop judging by mere appearances, and make a right judgment” (John 7:24). There is, then, another sense of “judge” which is our job, not just God’s. By this sense of “judge” we mean the cognitive activity of making an accurate discernment.

Surely, some judgments are true and right: e.g., that the earth revolves around the sun; that clean drinking water and food are necessary for good health; that we should try to alleviate the suffering of others. Surely, too, some judgments are false and wrong: e.g., that the earth is the centre of our solar system; that oil spills help animal life flourish; that it’s morally permissible for a father to lock his daughter in a basement so he can rape her.

So, contrary to popular opinion—and as odd as it may sound to contemporary ears—sometimes we should be judgmental (in the sense of making an accurate discernment). Significantly, this requires proficiency in the art of argument and critical thinking.

Blurred distinction #2: Argument vs. argument

“Don’t argue,” we are often told too. Again, an unnoticed ambiguity needs to be brought to light.

The word “argument” can mean quarrel, which happens when voices are raised, fists are clenched, and more heat than light is generated. If this is what we mean by “don’t argue,” then—yes, please—do not argue!

However, the word “argument” can also mean rational persuasion. In this sense, an argument involves a set of statements (premises) which are used to support, prove, or give reasons for another statement (conclusion). Such arguments are used in courts of law, in medicine, in the sciences, in history, in theology, in philosophy—in all careful investigation.

In this second sense of “argument”—i.e., argument as rational persuasion—the art of arguing is a collaborative affair. That is, when engaging in argument (sense 2) people work together to discern which position has the best reasons for thinking it’s true (or not). An important aid to success in this collaboration is that people show respect to those with whom they disagree. In this way, one’s ego or culture doesn’t readily get in the way of truth, since others often know more than we do, and their arguments may be better than ours.

If “don’t argue” means that we should not engage in argument as rational persuasion, then we are inadvertently promoting forms of non-rational persuasion: e.g., propaganda, emotional manipulation, and appeals to force. Significantly, to avoid such non-rational persuasion requires proficiency in the art of argument and critical thinking.

The art of argument and critical thinking is a staple of a liberal arts education. Clearly, a society that promotes liberal arts education is a society that respects and nourishes the minds of its citizens.

Next: Opinion vs. opinion, and tolerance vs. tolerance.

(Hendrik van der Breggen, PhD, is assistant professor of philosophy at Providence College, Otterburne, Manitoba. Providence is a Christian liberal arts college.)