Broadly speaking, there are two general strategies for proving that God exists. One we might call the scientific approach. This is where you point to some empirical fact and argue that it is beyond the reach of natural forces. The classic example is Paley’s version of the argument for design. Paley argued that just as the complex, functional interweaving of parts in a watch immediately implies a watchmaker, so too does the complex functionality of living organisms demand a creator. This was a compelling argument for its time, and there is a reason it was accepted by almost everyone. But Darwin and his successors showed that it is based on a false premise. Natural forces can, under the right circumstances craft complex, functional systems. It just takes them a very long time to do so.
Modern ID proponents proceed in this manner, but their arguments are very weak. They assert that certain biological systems are “irreducibly complex,” or that they exhibit “complex, specified information,” and that such things are beyond the reach of purely natural forces. Such claims as they have made in this regard are easily shown to be false, their refusal to accept this fact notwithstanding. Sometimes they prefer instead to argue from physics, pointing to the fine-tuning of the physical constants of the universe. This argument is marginally better, since it is not based on any obviously false premises. However, it is plainly an argument from ignorance. We know next to nothing about why the constants are what they are, and the possibility of a multiverse explains fine-tuning without any need for God. The only reply you get from the ID folks on this one is mockery. But it is unclear, to put it politely, why the idea of a multiverse, which is strongly suggested by several lines of thought in modern physics, is somehow to be deemed less likely than the alternative theory that an omnipotent magic man poofed the universe into existence with an act of will.
The scientific approach is not successful, but the arguments made along these lines do, at least, provide food for thought.
By contrast, the second general strategy, which we might refer to as the philosophical approach, is far less interesting. When arguing in this vein, we try to reason our way from non-controversial premises about reality to the conclusion that God must exist. The ontological argument, which in its various forms essentially argues that our ability to conceive of God entails that He exists, is just a non-starter. It reflects poorly on philosophers that so much ink has spilled over it. Thomas Aquinas also argued in this manner, with his famous five proofs of God’s existence. There’s a reason, though, that modern philosophers are all but unanimous in finding Aquinas’s arguments unpersuasive. When Aquinas’s arguments are stated with proper precision, it is never hard to spot the dubious premise.
As a case in point, here’s Michael Egnor, of the Discovery Institute, presenting his version of Aquinas’s fifth way:
- Unintelligent things in nature tend to some outcomes rather than to other outcomes.
- Tending to specific outcomes entails a kind of foresight, which is a manifestation of intelligence.
- An Intelligence therefore guides natural outcomes of unintelligent things.
- This is what all men call God.
He fleshes out this argument as follows:
The universe behaves in accordance with consistent physical laws. Notice I said consistent — the remarkable thing is not so much that the laws are complex or elegant or specific, but that they are consistent. There is directedness to the universe.
It is the consistent directedness of change in nature — the fact that atoms and rocks and bodies and planets and galaxies and the entire universe have tendencies to do one thing and not another — that leads via reason to the existence of God.
And later:
The directedness of natural processes is salient. A single electron orbiting a single proton in accordance with the laws of quantum mechanics is every bit as powerful a demonstration of God’s existence as the whole of cosmology. When you drop a pebble and it falls to the ground, and not to the sky, you demonstrate God’s existence. When you strike a match and you get a flame, and not ice, you demonstrate God’s existence.
Do you find this argument convincing? I sure don’t. In fact, I’d say premise two is just flatly ridiculous.
Inanimate objects behaving in a consistent manner is pretty much the opposite of showing intelligent foresight. We can probably imagine a universe governed by different physical laws from the ones we know, but I defy you to imagine a world in which inanimate objects behave unpredictably. If Egnor’s pebble sometimes fell to the ground, sometimes floated upwards, and sometimes just hovered in place, that’s when we would conclude that powerful intelligent agents were at work. Consistent behavior is precisely what we expect from inanimate objects. It is inconsistent behavior that suggests intelligent intervention.
We can contrast Egnor’s argument with another common argument for God’s existence. It is often claimed that the reality of miracles implies that God exists. Miracles are generally understood to be events that occur in defiance of natural laws, or at least events that would normally be considered too improbable to have occurred naturally. It would seem, then, that theists are trying to have it both ways. When things behave in defiance of natural laws, that is evidence that God exists. But when they behave in accord with natural laws? Well, that’s also evidence that God exists. Who knew it was so easy?
Egnor is very casual with the word “teleology.” He acts as though it is a magical incantation that ought to have atheists quaking in their boots. (In ID parlance, the word “information” plays a similar role.) He seems unaware that “teleology” can mean different things in different contexts. Usually the word is used to refer specifically to the goals exhibited by intelligent agents. When the word is applied instead to the sort of goal-directedness we find in nature, philosophers are usually careful to modify it in some way, say by referring to “natural teleology.” Biologists in particular will sometimes use the word “teleonomy” specifically to distinguish the sort of goal-directedness we find in the evolutionary process from the true teleology exhibited by intelligent agents. These distinctions exist because most people regard it as obvious that goal-directedness is not the exclusive province of intelligent agents. Why Egnor is confused on this point is unclear to me.
This is typical of philosophical arguments for God’s existence. There always seems to be a premise that is just pulled out of thin air. Contingent existence in nature does not imply a necessary existent at the start of it all (and a necessary existent would not have to be God even if it did), and the reality of change or motion does not entail a first cause to start everything off. But those are subjects for another day.
from ScienceBlogs http://ift.tt/1zL6aZw
Broadly speaking, there are two general strategies for proving that God exists. One we might call the scientific approach. This is where you point to some empirical fact and argue that it is beyond the reach of natural forces. The classic example is Paley’s version of the argument for design. Paley argued that just as the complex, functional interweaving of parts in a watch immediately implies a watchmaker, so too does the complex functionality of living organisms demand a creator. This was a compelling argument for its time, and there is a reason it was accepted by almost everyone. But Darwin and his successors showed that it is based on a false premise. Natural forces can, under the right circumstances craft complex, functional systems. It just takes them a very long time to do so.
Modern ID proponents proceed in this manner, but their arguments are very weak. They assert that certain biological systems are “irreducibly complex,” or that they exhibit “complex, specified information,” and that such things are beyond the reach of purely natural forces. Such claims as they have made in this regard are easily shown to be false, their refusal to accept this fact notwithstanding. Sometimes they prefer instead to argue from physics, pointing to the fine-tuning of the physical constants of the universe. This argument is marginally better, since it is not based on any obviously false premises. However, it is plainly an argument from ignorance. We know next to nothing about why the constants are what they are, and the possibility of a multiverse explains fine-tuning without any need for God. The only reply you get from the ID folks on this one is mockery. But it is unclear, to put it politely, why the idea of a multiverse, which is strongly suggested by several lines of thought in modern physics, is somehow to be deemed less likely than the alternative theory that an omnipotent magic man poofed the universe into existence with an act of will.
The scientific approach is not successful, but the arguments made along these lines do, at least, provide food for thought.
By contrast, the second general strategy, which we might refer to as the philosophical approach, is far less interesting. When arguing in this vein, we try to reason our way from non-controversial premises about reality to the conclusion that God must exist. The ontological argument, which in its various forms essentially argues that our ability to conceive of God entails that He exists, is just a non-starter. It reflects poorly on philosophers that so much ink has spilled over it. Thomas Aquinas also argued in this manner, with his famous five proofs of God’s existence. There’s a reason, though, that modern philosophers are all but unanimous in finding Aquinas’s arguments unpersuasive. When Aquinas’s arguments are stated with proper precision, it is never hard to spot the dubious premise.
As a case in point, here’s Michael Egnor, of the Discovery Institute, presenting his version of Aquinas’s fifth way:
- Unintelligent things in nature tend to some outcomes rather than to other outcomes.
- Tending to specific outcomes entails a kind of foresight, which is a manifestation of intelligence.
- An Intelligence therefore guides natural outcomes of unintelligent things.
- This is what all men call God.
He fleshes out this argument as follows:
The universe behaves in accordance with consistent physical laws. Notice I said consistent — the remarkable thing is not so much that the laws are complex or elegant or specific, but that they are consistent. There is directedness to the universe.
It is the consistent directedness of change in nature — the fact that atoms and rocks and bodies and planets and galaxies and the entire universe have tendencies to do one thing and not another — that leads via reason to the existence of God.
And later:
The directedness of natural processes is salient. A single electron orbiting a single proton in accordance with the laws of quantum mechanics is every bit as powerful a demonstration of God’s existence as the whole of cosmology. When you drop a pebble and it falls to the ground, and not to the sky, you demonstrate God’s existence. When you strike a match and you get a flame, and not ice, you demonstrate God’s existence.
Do you find this argument convincing? I sure don’t. In fact, I’d say premise two is just flatly ridiculous.
Inanimate objects behaving in a consistent manner is pretty much the opposite of showing intelligent foresight. We can probably imagine a universe governed by different physical laws from the ones we know, but I defy you to imagine a world in which inanimate objects behave unpredictably. If Egnor’s pebble sometimes fell to the ground, sometimes floated upwards, and sometimes just hovered in place, that’s when we would conclude that powerful intelligent agents were at work. Consistent behavior is precisely what we expect from inanimate objects. It is inconsistent behavior that suggests intelligent intervention.
We can contrast Egnor’s argument with another common argument for God’s existence. It is often claimed that the reality of miracles implies that God exists. Miracles are generally understood to be events that occur in defiance of natural laws, or at least events that would normally be considered too improbable to have occurred naturally. It would seem, then, that theists are trying to have it both ways. When things behave in defiance of natural laws, that is evidence that God exists. But when they behave in accord with natural laws? Well, that’s also evidence that God exists. Who knew it was so easy?
Egnor is very casual with the word “teleology.” He acts as though it is a magical incantation that ought to have atheists quaking in their boots. (In ID parlance, the word “information” plays a similar role.) He seems unaware that “teleology” can mean different things in different contexts. Usually the word is used to refer specifically to the goals exhibited by intelligent agents. When the word is applied instead to the sort of goal-directedness we find in nature, philosophers are usually careful to modify it in some way, say by referring to “natural teleology.” Biologists in particular will sometimes use the word “teleonomy” specifically to distinguish the sort of goal-directedness we find in the evolutionary process from the true teleology exhibited by intelligent agents. These distinctions exist because most people regard it as obvious that goal-directedness is not the exclusive province of intelligent agents. Why Egnor is confused on this point is unclear to me.
This is typical of philosophical arguments for God’s existence. There always seems to be a premise that is just pulled out of thin air. Contingent existence in nature does not imply a necessary existent at the start of it all (and a necessary existent would not have to be God even if it did), and the reality of change or motion does not entail a first cause to start everything off. But those are subjects for another day.
from ScienceBlogs http://ift.tt/1zL6aZw
Aucun commentaire:
Enregistrer un commentaire