Up@dawn 2.0

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Chapter Two: The Case for Atheism


Show Me the Money!

How do we make the case for atheism—or anything for that matter? Few would disagree that it’s impossible to get to work in an imaginary car, open a bank account with imaginary money, or seek shelter in an imaginary home (although it’s possible to have a show business career with imaginary talent—but that’s a whole other discussion).  How do we convince our friends they don’t have invisible fire breathing dragons in their gym lockers or their Facebook page isn’t possessed by the devil? Generally, one can make this case with argument, evidence, and rhetoric. Baggini argues in chapter 2 why we shouldn’t make an exception for belief in gods.
  
Baggini begins by saying that atheism as a negative position, derived from the genesis of the term “atheism.” Stating this truth doesn’t further the argument. On page one, last line of the first paragraph Julian Baggini defines atheism: “a person who believes there is no God or gods.”  Baggini stakes his claim for what he calls a “rational case for atheism,” or euphemistically but argumentatively: a “positive case for atheism.” I was initially concerned about entertaining a positive case for atheism since this feeds the line of thought and question often espoused by theists, “Why is atheism true?” leaving atheists in a position to prove the negative: God does not exist, which is impossible to prove. So I thought. Baggini indicts this line of thinking as committing the etymological fallacy of trying to understand the meaning of the word from it origin. Baggini maintains this gets us nowhere and should instead focus on his positive case for atheism, which is backed up by evidence and argument.

Baggini explains that not all evidence good evidence. This notion can further be broken down into two categories:  good and bad evidence. Good evidence is independently verifiable and bad evidence is anecdotal arguing that, as Hume noted, that anecdotal evidence must be weighed against a much large body of evidence based on principle.

Therefore, the positive argument for atheism hinges on the strong evidence of naturalism—from which atheism is borne—and contrasted with the weak anecdotal evidence (i.e., personal experience and revelation) on which theism is based. One reason weak evidence (anecdotal) can be disregarded is that humans have been notoriously bad at introspection. The strong observational evidence simply points to the natural biological nature of humans that is independently verifiable. Even though human consciousness may be a mystery, there is no reason to presuppositionally posit a god into whatever strikes us mysterious or unexplainable at the current moment. Naturalism allows for this mystery to be an open question.
  
Baggini also debunks the ‘theistic defense’ based on the assumed aphorism: “absence of evidence is not evidence of evidence of absence.”

But what can Baggini make of the statement? In one sense it’s true, but others it’s not. Evidence or absence of evidence is contingent upon observation. If we don’t investigate a claim, then, yes, absence of evidence is not evidence of absence because there is simply no data to support the claim either way. But, upon observation, the lack of data (absence of evidence) is, by logical default, evidence of absence, which is confirmed by the lack of data. Therefore, absence of data is evidence of non-existence.

Baggini notes two other counter-objections made against atheists. One is that atheists are too sure of themselves since there is so much we don’t understand about consciousness, and the other claim is that theists have evidence for the existence of God. He reminds us that the latter argument is based on very weak evidence noting the theist has to make a case other than by the repetition of hearsay.

The former criticism, which is a psychological projection of appeal to authority, has no basis in light of independently verifiable evidence.

An interesting point Baggini makes in what I would call the anti-William James argument, is to criticize the reluctance to form conclusions based on the ‘permanent possibility’ principle of undiscovered evidence. He argues that failing to form conclusions in the spirit of possible further evidence allows a whole host of possibilities to exist for any belief. He argues that, although these conclusion don't have to be permanent, the ‘evidence to date’ rule that weighs against something not being true is reason enough to believe them. We can still manage to get out of Plato's cave without absolute knowledge. 

In fact, we don’t need absolute certainty on either end of the belief-disbelief continuum to make claims about the world in which we live. Perhaps we should, as Baggini noted, take the pragmatic notion of abduction, and really take a serious look at what would be the best explanation of the human condition and the world around us.


15 comments:

  1. I especially liked Baggini's examination of the difference between feasible and indefeasible ideas, and the general section explaining the problem with dogmatism of any type. It's certainly something that even I find myself having to watch out for, as a very avowed pluralist.

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  2. I like the acknowledgment that the evidence for naturalism is the evidence for atheism. All the strong evidence counts for it, and only the weak count against it. Here here.

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  3. Agreed, up and down. I just don't see any of this as finally "anti-James." WJ also liked to "criticize the reluctance to form conclusions based on the ‘permanent possibility’ principle of undiscovered evidence," and defended provisional, actionable, fallible, revisable conclusions. He was not afraid to endorse the perpetual risk of error in belief, which as he said we're bound to commit in any event. He only scorned the deeply-hesitant agnosticism of waiting, waiting, waiting for the evidence. Do something, believe something, take a chance...

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    1. Well said and fair enough.

      Maybe it's a matter of perspective. James seems to be in front of belief, i.e., experiencing the possibilities, whereas I'm sitting on the sidelines judging the results, which, in light of the whole of Pragmatism, might not be a fair assessment.

      I made a note that I thought he was stepping on James's philosophical toes, if you will, starting at the last paragraph of page 19 through page 20, ending with the line, "...but to make the case that is more than just a repetition of hearsay."
      I take this in relation to experienced fact.

      Do you read it as such or are we discussing mid-argument arguments that don't necessarily reflect the conclusion?

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  4. The latter, maybe. I'm not sure. But you know, WJ was pretty much "on the sidelines" too. He was one of those who, as Dennett says, "believed in believing," devoutly wished to get off the sidelines and acquire firm beliefs of his own but never really did. Kinda explains his impatience with agnosticism, knowing it so intimately from the inside.

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  5. As far as sidelines go -- I'm there with you guys.

    Baggini helped me redefine atheism for myself. I have, for years now, been a subscriber to the agnostic belief structure of "I don't know and neither do you". After reading Baggini, however, I find myself, now, with one foot in the atheism boat.

    Faith in the Divine is something so unattainable for the doubter, it's no wonder that philosophers like James envy it. We all wish that everything was as simple as God and the devil, but it isn't. These symbolic figures of good and evil are but shadows of the morality of man. When we strive to prove or disprove their existence, it's almost as if we're taking steps away from our own lives and our morality. We distract ourselves with erroneous arguments. James' impatience is understandable yet unnecessary, especially considering his agnosticism. Why do humans crave the supernatural so much?

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    1. I'm sure you've heard it before, but it's worth saying again: Come to the Dark Side, we have cookies.

      I would say that humans crave *explanation*, and if the supernatural seems fit the facts, then people will grasp onto it. As I pointed out in class, though, the supernatural no longer does a good job of explaining much of anything.

      Sure, you can slap a label of "supernatural" or "divine" or "mystery" on whatever current area of ignorance we have. Some people still favor a poor explanation rather than no explanation at all. In fact, we're probably wired like that as an agency-seeking species. But that doesn't mean we can't do better.

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  6. I think it was Jerry Coyne who (ironically) coined the word "faitheist" to describe those atheists who still maintained a belief in belief. I thought it had a nice ring to it.

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  7. I have never understood the strict agnostic mindset, from a practical point of view. It only ever seems to be applied to the idea of the supernatural, since it would be laughable in most other circumstances. This notion of "knowing" suddenly takes on the demand for absolute certainty before we can weigh in one way or the other.

    Especially in regards to theism, it seems that one is either in or not. You either believe in a theistic deity or you don't. You either accept the evidence as sufficient, or you don't. What other option is there for belief?

    Belief and knowledge seem (to me) to be inextricably linked. If a person says "I don't know if God exists or not", what does that say about the status of their belief in God's existence?

    I am perfectly comfortable calling myself an agnostic atheist. The statement "I don't know whether God exists or not, but I certainly don't believe that he does" is completely consistent with agnosticism and atheism.

    I have considered mountains of evidence for the existence of the supernatural, and I have found it to be exceedingly weak. Does the poor quality of the evidence prove that God doesn't exist? Of course not. But neither does it give me any good reason to believe that a god exists.

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    1. Well a true skeptic (in the philosophical sense) would say you could never know anything at all. Remember, in Hume's examination of necessary connection he said you can never even know that cause and effect are a real thing, only that you have observed that repeated experimentation of doing A seems to always lead to B

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    2. Exactly. If a person insists on defining the word 'know' in some context of 100% certainty, then we don't really 'know' anything. While this is fine in a philosophy discussion, it does no useful work in a pragmatic sense. Should I be paralyzed by doubt because I can't really know anything? No, I shouldn't. I should take care to avoid dogmatism, while acknowledging that I can make it thru my day with incomplete knowledge.

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  8. Having said that, it is of course a fact that we find ourselves in a philosophy class. So while I find little practical use for strict agnosticism, I am happy to discuss it and perhaps tease out some aspect of it that I have overlooked or under appreciated.

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  9. Right, but despite his true skepticism Hume was no fence-sitter on "natural religion," miracles, the problem of evil etc. You can be a skeptic with regard to knowledge and still know what you believe. That's why I finally slipped over the rails and declared myself an atheist even though I'd never claim certain knowledge.

    "Faitheist" is nicer than Dawkins' "faith-head" but still a bit condescending.

    The blog project idea is open to your suggestions, but my thought is that you pick a particular A&P theme ("Good without God," "Religion for Atheists," whatever) and do a series (3 or more posts?) of standard blog-length posts which I'll evaluate on the basis of cogency, pith, insight, entertainment value, comment interactions etc. We'll talk 'em up to encourage the class to comment.

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    1. That sounds great to me. Since I have more free time than some (I am lucky enough to not have to work while I'm attending school,) I tend to spend a good amount of time on the website anyway. I see nothing wrong with the format you suggest, and submit that I do at least three blog posts dealing with particular aspects of "Good without God." Would this project be counted as Exam #1, to be completed in the same time frame?

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    2. It would be Report #1 (exams are the little objective tests that cover the texts we're reading), and the series would need to be completed (or at least well underway) by Spring Break. Or as a replacement for the final report it'd need to be completed approximately when classes end. We can discuss details further on Tuesday.

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