Friday, August 27, 2010

A Critique of Sye Ten Bruggencate’s www.proofthatgodexists.org

A visitor to my website recently informed me about a debate he had on Premier Christian Radio with a presuppositional apologists named Sye Ten Bruggencate.
I’ve seen Sye’s website before (it is located here: http://www.proofthatgodexists.org/). On this site, Sye seeks to prove the existence of his god by leading visitors through a series of pages which present various alternatives regarding the laws of logic, mathematics, science and morality. The first four steps ask the visitor to affirm whether or not the laws of logic, mathematics, science and morality even exist. If at any point the visitor disaffirms the existence of one of these features, he is taken to a page which reminds him that he makes use of what he has denied on a daily basis. So the visitor is compelled to affirm the existence of the laws of logic, mathematics, science and morality.

At Step Five the visitor is asked to decide whether those laws, whose existence he has just affirmed, are “immaterial” or “material.” It is at this point that I think Sye’s proof begins to suffer its most profound problems. The alternative “immaterial” versus “material” strikes me as a false dichotomy, since “immaterial” only tells us what something is not, not what it is. This negative term is contrasted with its positive counterpart, namely “material,” suggesting that these are the only two options available. The descriptor “immaterial” has no positive meaning of its own and could refer to just about anything one imagines (for according to Christian apologist Peter Pike, imaginary things are “immaterial” – see here). Sye’s case might raise fewer suspicions if his question at Step Five asked whether the laws of logic, mathematics, science and morality were material or not material. This correction would improve things two-fold: first it would undo the mistake of treating “immaterial” as if it had a positive meaning; also, it would generate a question which Sye seems unprepared to ask: If the laws of logic, mathematics, science and morality are not material, then what are they? It would be erroneous to suppose that calling them “immaterial” satisfies this question.

By framing the alternatives in the manner which he chooses, Sye seeks to tip the scales artificially in favor of his desired conclusion. But we will find that, even though he does this to give his position an advantage, it does not work. Let’s explore the two alternatives as Sye understands them.

If we click the box in Step Five which says “Laws of logic, Mathematics, Science, and Absolute Morality are Material,” we are scolded with the following statement:
If you believe that laws of logic, mathematics, science, or morality are made of matter, please show me where in nature these laws are. Can you touch them, see them, smell them, hear them, or taste them? Rather than have you produce a material, physical law I will narrow down the field for you... just show me the number '3' somewhere in nature. Not 'three things,' not a written representation of the number 3 but the real physical, material number 3.
Statements like this strongly suggest that Sye has something *conceptual* in mind when he speaks of “the immaterial.” This is because his example of something “immaterial” is the number ‘3’, which in fact is a concept (Sye disqualifies objects in the quantity of three and symbolic representations). This raises yet a further question about the terms in which Sye chooses to inform his proof:
Why doesn’t he frame his question about the ontology of the laws of logic, mathematics, science and absolute morality in terms of conceptual versus material instead of “immaterial” versus material?
The reason why Sye does not cast the alternatives in these terms is most likely because (a) he probably has no conceptual understanding of logic, mathematics, science and morality, and (b) doing so would jeopardize his case for theism. Not only does Christianity not have a theory of concepts (which would explain why Sye does not treat these issues as conceptual phenomena), his god is not supposed to be merely a concept, but an independently existing being.

The problem is even worse for Sye. As noted above, at Step Five Sye contrasts “material” with “immaterial.” Another expression which he uses to designate “the immaterial” is the term “abstract entities.” Does Sye really want to say that his god is “abstract” in nature, like the number 3 or any other abstraction? I wouldn’t think so. Abstractions are not living entities, they have no consciousness of their own, and they are not independently existing entities: they require minds to form and make use of them. But the Christian god is supposed to be an independently existing entity possessing its own consciousness, not needing a mind which forms it (such as in the believer’s imagination).

So just by citing a concept as an example of something “immaterial,” Sye is letting on that “God” refers to something psychological rather than existential, to something in his mind rather than an independently existing entity. Concepts are products of a mental process. By characterizing both “God” and concepts as “immaterial,” Sye is saying that his god is analogous to products of a mental process. Only instead of constituting genuine knowledge about the world (as in the case of concepts formed on the basis of perceptual input), Sye’s god-belief finds its residence in his imagination.

If at Step Five we click the box which says “Laws of Logic, Mathematics, Science and Absolute Morality are Immaterial,” we are taken to Step Six, which has us decide whether these laws “are universal or up to the individual.” Again we seem to have a false dichotomy on our hands. Sye asks: “Does 2 + 2 = 4 only where you are, and only because you say it does, or is this a universal law?” Sye implies that something must be universal in order to be what it is independent of our personal dictates and circumstances. But I’m sure that Sye would agree that this is not the case. In contrast to universal laws and truths, particular objects exist independent of our conscious intentions, and our actions in regard to them show that we recognize this, albeit perhaps only implicitly.

At any rate, most will likely agree (and rightly so) that the equation 2 + 2 = 4 (assuming equivalent units) applies everywhere and not just in one specific location and not just because we might happen to say it does. If this is what is meant by universality in this context, then one can agree that the laws of logic, mathematics, science and morality apply everywhere and are thus universal in this sense. (I have presented the proper understanding of universality in my blog Demystifying Universality.)

Before proceeding with Sye’s proof, however, it should be noted that Sye contrasts “universal law” with something being the case because someone says so. This is noteworthy for it is in the theistic worldview where we find the view that a consciousness has the power to speak things into existence and alter them according to its will. Sye keeps this aspect of his theism safely out of view while suggesting that such a position is antithetical to universality as such in the dichotomy he introduces at this point.

If we take the option at Step Six which affirms that the laws of logic, mathematics, science and morality are indeed universal, we are then asked at Step Seven to affirm whether or not those same laws unchanging. Sye summarizes how far we’ve come once we’ve made it this far in his proof:
You have acknowledged that laws of logic, mathematics, science, and absolute morality exist, that they are not made of matter, and that they are universal. The next question is whether you believe they are changing or unchanging.
We are asked to decide whether or not, on our own view, the law of identity, for instance, or 2 + 2 = 4, man’s need for values, etc., can be altered in some way or another, either on its own or by means of some external force. Of course, there’s no good reason to suppose that these laws will do this, we do not experience them changing, and the idea that they could or would change seems entirely self-refuting. Indeed, what would cause the laws to change? But causality is one of those laws. To expect a cause to change the laws invokes the laws. But couldn’t they change without a cause? No, because causality is the identity of change; if there’s change, that change – because it exists – would have identity, and thus the law of causality would be in play.

Apologists like Sye, however, think that this state of affairs implies or entails the existence of a god which makes this state of affairs – namely the immutability of the laws in question – obtain, or at any rate that this would not be the case unless their god were real. Of course, with reasoning such as this, we are still left with imagining the god in question, and projecting it as the solution to what may in fact not be a problem at all in the first place (I say this because we have The Axioms and the Primacy of Existence). Besides, presuppositionalists do not make a very clear case for why their god is a necessary precondition for the existence, universality and immutability of the laws of logic, mathematics, science and morality. In fact, it seems that these laws imply the very opposite: that the very notion of a god is completely arbitrary, even antithetical to them.

At this point, we come to the ”preproof” page in Sye’s case, where he announces:
To reach this page you had to acknowledge that immaterial, universal, unchanging laws of logic, mathematics, science, and absolute morality exist. Universal, immaterial, unchanging laws are necessary for rational thinking to be possible. Universal, immaterial, unchanging laws cannot be accounted for if the universe was random or only material in nature.
We saw above that characterizing the laws in question as conceptual in nature – i.e., as generalized identifications composed of concepts – is vastly preferable to characterizing them as “immaterial,” which ignores their conceptual nature and leaves them subject to whatever arbitrary investment one’s imagination may ascribe to them. In fact, recognizing that these laws are conceptual in nature explains the remaining two attributes: universal and unchanging. Universality is essentially the open-endedness of conceptual reference. For instance, the concept ‘man’ includes not just one man or five men, but all men who exist, who have existed and who will ever exist. It is because of this open-endedness that we can speak of men in the past and in the future as well as in the present, and still have the same essential features in mind – i.e., a biological organism possessing the faculty of reason. Concept’s owe their open-endedness of reference to the process of measurement-omission which is a key aspect of concept-formation, an action performed by the mind. There’s no mystery here, so there’s no reason to attribute universality to something beyond man’s own mental abilities.

Similarly with the attribute of immutability: conceptual reference rests on the proper orientation of the subject-object relationship and the process by which concepts are formed. The orientation between consciousness (the subject) and its objects does not change; the subject and its objects do not and cannot switch places. Moreover, the truth of the axiomatic concepts ‘existence’, ‘consciousness’ and ‘identity’ do not change. For instance, the fact that there is a reality (“existence exists”) does not change. The immutability of conceptual reference is thus grounded in facts, facts which do not conform to conscious intentions, facts which obtain regardless of the actions of any consciousness (whether real or imagined).

So in a sense, just by preferring to characterize these laws as “immaterial” instead of conceptual, Sye has stacked the deck against their real nature in order to underwrite them with theistic presuppositions which have no basis in reality whatsoever, and which in fact violate the very axioms which ground those laws in the first place.

Sye says that these laws “cannot be accounted for if the universe was random or only material in nature.” But they can be accounted for if the universe exists independent of consciousness (the primacy of existence ensures this), if the axiom of consciousness is true (there are organisms which possess the faculty of consciousness), and if one has a theory of concepts which explains how conceptualization is possible. And we have all three of these in the philosophy of Objectivism.

Meanwhile, Christianity defaults on all three of these points. For one thing, it holds that the universe does not exist independent of consciousness. It holds to the primacy of consciousness, claiming that the universe was created by an act of consciousness, and that its contents conform to the dictates of that consciousness (to its “will”). Moreover, Christianity in essence denies the axiom of consciousness, for it must assume that consciousness can exist without an independent object (see my blog Before the Beginning: The Problem of Divine Lonesomeness). Lastly, Christianity has no theory of concepts, which means its adherents have no philosophically native means of understanding the nature of concepts or the processes by which the human mind forms them.

It is because of these fundamental problems that I wager that Sye’s proof ultimately relies on an argumentum ad ignorantium - an argument from ignorance. It is primarily because one lacks knowledge of the axioms, the issue of metaphysical primacy and concept theory that one would seek to exploit the resulting mysteriousness of the nature of the laws of logic, mathematics, science and morality and attribute them to the “supernatural”.

Sye continues, saying:
The Bible teaches us that there are 2 types of people in this world, those who profess the truth of God's existence and those who suppress the truth of God's existence. The options of 'seeking' God, or not believing in God are unavailable. The Bible never attempts to prove the existence of God as it declares that the existence of God is so obvious that we are without excuse for not believing in Him.
Sye must appeal to the contents of a storybook in order to affirm the antithetical categories into which he wants to fit all men. In doing so, he seeks to wipe out the sheer honesty of many non-believers: those who honestly do not believe any mystical claims, including the claim that a “God” exists. It is honesty which is the casualty of such pronouncements, and this is what we need to understand. If Sye’s proof were built on honesty, why does it seek to exploit ignorance in such a predatory manner? Blank out. Again, he appeals to the storybook, acknowledging that it presents no arguments for the existence of its god, but rather “declares” – i.e., merely asserts, without argument – its existence, claiming (with blatant contradiction at Romans 1:20) that its existence is “so obvious that we are without excuse for not believing in Him.”

What the bible offers, and what Sye repeats here, is essentially an accusation against non-believers. This is one of the oldest tricks in the book: if someone doesn’t believe your claims, accuse them of some moral shortcoming. In this case, we’re accused, given our non-belief in Sye’s god, of purposely “suppressing the truth.” The allegation here is that we are willfully and deliberately denying something that we really know to be true. But again, neither Sye nor any other apologist has any rational basis for making such a charge. He cites no facts or evidence to support his claim; rather, he simply repeats what the sacred storybook already says. The passage where he gets this comes from the apostle Paul. Paul wrote this passage some 1900 years ago, long before anyone reading this was even born. In other words, we were accused of this moral breach before we even existed, without trial, without a hearing, without weighing any evidence, without any investigation into any of our souls.

Essentially, we have the theist saying, “Well, if you do not confess that my God exists, then I’m going to accuse of denying what you really know!” This is somehow supposed to compel us. Who would want people to believe his claims on such a basis? Wouldn’t that make one’s own confidence in said belief all the more shaky? It is noteworthy that apologists want to make the issue a moral matter. Are they not tipping their own cards by doing so? Are they not tacitly admitting that their god-belief is ultimately a matter of choice by telling us that we’re immoral for essentially choosing not to believe? Should we just up and choose to believe that Sye’s god exists, with no reason other than that we do not want to be guilty of his charge of “suppressing the truth”? Should we just retreat into our imaginations on Sye’s say so, on the basis of fear of the imaginary consequences of the alternative, and agree with his claim that his god is needed for any proof in the first place?

I trow not.

So it appears, upon inspection, that what Christians really mean by “believe in Him” is nothing more than “imagine Him.” For no matter what the apologist offers in defense of his god-belief, we still have no alternative to imagining his god which he insists exists.

This conclusion bears out in the claim which Sye presents as his “proof”:
The Proof that God exists is that without Him you couldn't prove anything.
This hardly constitutes any kind of proof. Indeed, it seems merely to be the opinion of someone who already believes the claim that said god exists in the first place. In fact, I see no reason why someone who believes in the Muslim god could not make essentially the same claim about his god:
The Proof that Allah exists is that without Him you couldn’t prove anything.
To bring the point home, we could imagine any god in place of Sye’s “God” and wonder why it would not stick for that god for the kinds of reasons Sye supposes it works for his god:
The Proof that Blarko exists is that without Blarko, you couldn’t prove anything.
I’m guessing that Sye would not find these latter two variations on his own them very compelling.

Finally, after all the steps in Sye’s presentation are exhausted, we come to the question what do you believe? We are given only two options at this point:
“I believe that God exists”
and
“I do not believe that God exists”
If we choose the first option, Sye finally rewards us by taking us to his site’s main page, where he asks visitors who have not gone through his eight-step program to go to his proof’s first step. For those who made it here by following the desired alternatives of Sye’s proof and choosing the “I believe that God exists” path, Sye writes:
For those who have gone through the proof to get here, it may have been a huge step to finally admit that God exists. While it may be a relief to finally make such an admission, it is just the first step, not the last.
He apparently thinks it requires a lot of courage to “admit that God exists,” even though after going through Sye’s proof we still have no alternative but to imagine the god whose existence he’s been trying to prove. Nothing has changed in this regard: before Sye’s proof, we could only imagine his god, and now that he’s presented his 8-step proof, we can still only imagine it. We cannot perceive this god, we cannot conduct a conversation with it, we cannot verify its existence by asking it to reveal itself in some unmistakable, demonstrative manner (such as levitating a book from the book shelf – something that should be easy for the creator of the universe to do). True to presuppositional form, Sye’s god remains marooned in our imagination, even after all his gyrations about absolute truth, the laws of logic and universality. Indeed, while I went through the steps of Sye’s proof, I never experienced any compulsion to “admit that God exists.” Rather, I sensed only that our leg was being pulled.

But Sye makes it sound like “admit[ting] that God exists” lifts some terrible burden off our shoulders. But there was no burden there in the first place. There is no strain in recognizing the fact that there is a fundamental distinction between what is real and what is merely imaginary. In fact, if there’s any “relief” to be achieved, it is in grasping the nature of this fundamental distinction and “admitting” that the imaginary is not real, even if Sye’s god doesn’t like it. But surely even Sye Ten Bruggencate recognizes the fact that there is a fundamental distinction between what is real and what is imaginary, does he not? If so, why then does his proof show no concern for this fact? Why does Sye not tell us how we can distinguish between his god and what is merely imaginary? Why does he not build any safeguard into his proof which ensures that the god whose existence he wants to prove is not something we set up in our imagination as we go through its several steps? And if he were to build such a safeguard into his proof, how would it integrate with the terms of his proof, and how would it affect its intended conclusion? We may never know.

If we go through Sye’s eight-step proof and choose the latter option, namely “I do not believe that God exists,” Sye will naturally be disappointed. Only stubbornness and hardheartedness could lead one to choosing this option. It is by choosing this option that we are lead to a new page where Sye scolds us yet again. There he writes:
Denying the existence of God is not unbelief but an exercise in self-deception. You may know things, but you cannot account for anything you know.
Is it truly an instance of “self-deception” when one recognizes the fact that there is a fundamental distinction between what is real and what is imaginary? Indeed, it seems that ignoring this distinction is a telltale indication of self-deception, and I have yet to see how god-belief is possible without downplaying this distinction. If something does not exist, then how can denying its existence when someone insists that it does exist, constitute an instance of self-deception?

Sye betrays the inherent argumentum ad ignorantium nature to presuppositionalism when he tells us “you may know things, but you cannot account for anything you know.” He grants that his visitors can know things, but essentially says that they don’t know how they know what they know. How does he know this about those who visit his website? Is he omniscient? Does he confuse himself with the god he claims he worships? He may have never made their acquaintance before, and yet he professes to know that they can’t know how they know what we know. He apparently takes his website’s visitors for fools.

Perhaps Sye is expressing a hope here, namely the hope that his visitors are unable to “account for anything” they might happen to know. But why would he hope this? Or perhaps he’s projecting his own ignorance here. Either way, he seems to think he’s on safe grounds here, since he provides no support at all for his claim about people who may very well be complete strangers to him. He talks about being able to “account” for one’s knowledge, but presents no basis to “account” for the knowledge he claims for himself about people he’s never met. Sye is telling us that the basis for his visitors’ knowledge is a mystery to them. And yet isn’t this precisely what Christianity ends up teaching about the “knowledge” believers are supposed to claim for themselves when push comes to shove? Look at what presuppositional apologist John Frame tells us when he wrestles with the question of how the believer can “account for” the “knowledge” he is supposed to claim for himself:
I cannot explain the psychology here to the satisfaction of very many. In this case as in others (for we walk by faith, not by sight!) we may have to accept the fact even without an explanation of the fact. Somehow, God manages to get his Word across to us, despite the logical and psychological barriers. Without explaining how it works, Scripture describes in various ways a “supernatural factor” in divine-human communication. (a) It speaks of the power of the Word. The Word created all things (Gen. 1:3, etc.; Ps. 33:3-6; John 1:3) and directs the course of nature and history (Pss. 46:6; 148:5-8). What God says will surely come to pass (Isa. 55:11; Gen. 18:149; Deut. 18:21ff.). The gospel is “the power of God unto salvation” (Rom. 1:16; cf. Isa. 6:9-10; Luke 7:7ff.; Heb. 4:12). (b) Scripture also speaks of the personal power of the Holy Spirit operating with the Word (John 3:5; 1 Cor. 2:4,12ff.; 2 Cor. 3:15-18; 1 Thess. 1:5)10. Mysterious though the process may be, somehow God illumines the human mind to discern the divine source of the Word. We know without knowing how we know. (Presuppositional Apologetics: An Introduction - Part 1 of 2: Introduction and Creation)
Frame construes the problem as a matter of psychology, but what we’re really after here (and what Sye is presumably interested in) is a matter of epistemology, not psychology. For what we’re supposed to be concerned with is giving an “account for” the knowledge we claim to have, right? So this in itself is quite an admission on Frame’s part: it tells us that he has no epistemological “account for” the “knowledge” he claims to have acquired from a supernatural source. And that would be accurate: knowledge that is dispensed from a supernatural source would have no epistemological basis, since it would not be knowledge which one infers from previously validated knowledge, but which would have been forcibly inserted into his mind by means of irresistible magic.

And this analysis is not at all uncalled for: Frame admits that the bible fails to “explain… how it works,” but mentions that it involves some kind of “power,” a power which is powerful enough to “direct… the course of nature and history” (so how could puny little man resist it?). This “power” is something which “operat[es] with the Word” which the believer reads in the sacred storybook, so just by reading the storybook the believer is supposedly giving this power access to his mind to do whatever it chooses to do. Frame himself concedes that he does not understand how this all works, calling the “process” by which this power inserts knowledge into the believer’s mind “mysterious,” insisting that “somehow” his god “illumines the human mind to discern the divine source of the Word,” while failing to explain how this supposed illumination is any different from the believer’s own imagination. It is at this point that Frame throws up his arms in utter cognitive resignation to make the damning admission “We know without knowing how we know.”

This is the philosophical heritage of presuppositional apologetics. And yet, given this concession of defeat on a most important epistemological matter (indeed, the most important matter for the believer if there were any!), Sye wants to exploit the non-believer’s supposed inability to “account for” what he knows. Presuppositionalists have always told us that non-believers cannot “account for” their knowledge, so Sye tells us nothing we haven’t already heard. But if accounting for knowledge were in fact so important to Sye, why doesn’t he make up for Frame’s admitted defeat and get down to the business of accounting for his own so-called knowledge, beginning with explaining how we can reliably distinguish between what he calls “God” and what he may merely be imagining?

The silence on these points is indeed deafening!

But if Christians can give themselves a pass when it comes to giving an “account for” their knowledge and ultimately appeal to “mystery,” why is it an issue of the non-believer is unable to articulate the epistemological grounding of his own knowledge?

Perhaps it is because – and this is what we should expect if Christianity were in fact false – Christianity has no genuine epistemology, and non-believers – who claim no supernatural source for the knowledge they have – should have an epistemological basis for the knowledge they have, since they acquire their knowledge through processes governed by the nature of their consciousness and its perceptual contact with reality. In other words, while believers should not be expected to provide any epistemological accounting for the knowledge they claim to have about “the supernatural” (since such “knowledge” is summarily arbitrary in nature), non-believers do not claim to acquire their knowledge from some “supernatural” source, but instead rely on their own faculties to discover facts, formulate general principles and infer higher-level truths through some understandable process. So the Christian is right on schedule in giving himself a pass, since he has no “account for” the knowledge he claims, and he is clever in challenging non-believers to explain how he acquires the knowledge he has.

But this does not in any way justify the believer’s appeal to “mystery” or some “supernatural power.” By taking this route, the believer announces that his god-belief rests ultimately on his own ignorance: he has no idea how to “account for” knowledge at all, and yet it is on the basis of this ignorance that he hopes to establish the validity of his god-belief. The circular tail-spin of crash-and-burn presuppositionalism leaves its practitioners stranded on a deserted island, unable to fend for themselves, unable to do nothing more than rest on the futile hope that some unsuspecting victim will come along and fall for his pretenses.

That being said, it is true that many non-believers do find it difficult to wrestle with presuppositionalism’s devises and challenges. There are, among others, two fundamental reasons why this may be the case. For one, while individual thinkers do have a great store of knowledge in their minds, they typically do not learn the processes by which they acquire knowledge in an explicit, systematic manner. They started learning knowledge when they were toddlers, and just continued with the processes that they naturally developed over time, never really understanding how their knowledge relates to what they perceive, never exploring how they form a concept, never identifying the process by which they can infer general truths from what they are aware of directly. Since their childhood, the processes by which they acquire their knowledge has been automatized, something they do without fully understanding how they do it. In this way, many non-believing thinkers’ orientation to their own knowledge is no different from what Frame indicates about the religious knowledge he claims when he concedes that “we know without knowing how we know.”

The solution to this is not what the presuppositionalist offers, which is to retreat further into the cave of his religion’s darkness, but to recognize the fact that since consciousness and knowledge both have identity, they can both be understood, since knowledge is essentially a process of identifying that which has identity. This is where Objectivist epistemology, the objective theory of concepts, sheds light where presuppositionalism can only prey on ignorance. (For details, see Ayn Rand’s Introduction to Objectivist Epistemology.) I contend that, without a theory of concepts, one will be unable to answer presuppositionalism’s challenges in any definitely resolute manner.

Sye’s next statement is noteworthy:
Arguing against God's existence would be on par with arguing against the existence of air, breathing it all the while.
It’s curious that Sye would compare “arguing against God’s existence” with “arguing against the existence of air,” for his proof makes it clear that his god is supposed to be immaterial while air is undeniably material in manner. We do in fact breathe air, and can feel it rushing into our lungs and out our noses as we breathe. We can directly sense air, since our air channels are equipped with nerve endings which register the passage of air as it moves across them. But the Christian god is supposed to be immaterial, invisible, and beyond the reach of our senses. It’s said to be “out there” some place, but without any ability on our part to perceive. All we can do is imagine it (which we aren’t supposed to talk about). So Sye’s comparison of his god with the air that we breathe, is at the very least highly questionable. If Sye could say this about his god, couldn’t we say this about anything we imagine?

Sye then says:
You use the universal, immaterial, unchanging laws of logic, mathematics, science, and absolute morality in order to come to rational decisions, but you cannot account for them.
How does Sye know that we “cannot account for them”? If we have the objective theory of concepts, we surely can “account for” logic, mathematics, science and morality, since these are conceptual in nature. Indeed, how could these endeavors be possible to any consciousness lacking the ability to form concepts? Blank out! Sye certainly does not explain this. He does not even consider this question. I have already discussed the proper understanding of universality (see here). Universality is essentially nothing more than the human mind’s ability to form open-ended classifications of reference (namely mental integrations) into which new units can be integrated when they are discovered or considered. There is nothing mysterious about universality when it is understood as an aspect of conceptual awareness. But notice that presuppositional apologetics does not encourage an *understanding* of universality, but instead seeks to utilize universality as a point of ignorance against the non-believer.

Similarly with the quality of being “immaterial”: since Sye is talking about universality, he’s clearly talking about the mind’s ability to formulate open-ended classifications of reference. But the mind does not experience its own activity in the same manner that it experiences the concrete entities which it perceives in the world. The mind acts according to its own nature, and this activity is certainly different from the nature of the objects of which one is aware by means of sense perception. A tree which one perceives is different from the concept ‘tree’ which one forms in his mind to integrate and identify the many trees he perceives.

Sye continues:
These laws are not the only way God has revealed himself to you, but they are sufficient to show the irrationality of your thinking, and expose your guilt for denying Him.
The “laws” to which Sye refers here, if they have any objective basis, are not the means by which an invisible magic being “reveals” itself to human beings, but in fact the conceptual form in which human minds identify and integrate general truths which they discover about the world in which they exist. There’s nothing otherworldly about these laws. In fact, they pertain in this world precisely because they are formed on the basis of what is discovered in this world. The reason why religious thinkers treat them as indications of a supernatural dimension is precisely because they do not understand their inherent relation to this world, which again implicates the argumentum ad ignorantium nature of presuppositional apologetics: the apologists do not know how the laws of logic, mathematics, science and morality can be derived by the human mind from their awareness of the world around us, therefore they couldn’t possibly be derived from awareness of the world around us. Consequently, they must derive from some awareness alien to this world, they must derive from a supernatural mind. After all, goes the reasoning, this world is nothing but matter in constant flux, particulars that are ever-changing. So how could these laws, which are “immaterial,” unchanging and universal find their basis in this world? If such reasoning were true, how could these laws have any applicability in this world if they didn’t have any basis in it? Again, to address such questions, apologists appeal to the supernatural: because the laws reflect the nature of a supernatural being, and the supernatural being created this world (this world which is a chaos of particulars constantly undergoing change). Still we are left with imagining something beyond what we perceive, beyond what we can infer from an objective basis, beyond what we can reach by means of reason. You just have to have faith in the apologist’s claims that the defense he gives for his god-belief is true, for it will never make sense on the basis of reason.

Sye’s presumptuousness seems to know no bounds when he writes (again, he’s writing this to whoever happens to visit his website and finds his way to this page):
There is a reason that you deny the existence of God and it has nothing to do with proof. I can show this to you. Examine what your initial reaction was to the proof of God's existence offered on this website. Did you think that you could continue to deny God because you are not a scientist, or philosopher but 'Surely somewhere, sometime, a philosopher or scientist will come up with an explanation for universal, immaterial, unchanging laws apart from God?' Did you try to come up with an alternate explanation on your own? OR Did you even consider that the proof was valid?
The problem with Sye’s proof is not whether it is valid or invalid. Validity is a formal concern in logic; one can produce a valid argument that the earth rests on the back of a giant tortoise swimming through space. The question is whether or not Sye’s argument is sound, and this should be his concern. It should be our concern as well, for even if we object that Sye’s argument is invalid, it would not take a lot of effort to make it valid, and then what? The concern should be whether the premises in Sye’s argument are true as well as whether or not they in fact support his intended conclusion. On this note, Sye’s argument does not make it clear how the conclusion that his god exists follows from the premises that the laws of logic, mathematics, science and morality are “immaterial,” unchanging and universal. He insists that such laws “cannot be accounted for if the universe was random or only material in nature” (Sye makes this claim on the pre-proof page). But it does not follow from this that his god therefore exists. Nor does Sye’s claiming that these laws “reflect the very nature of God” given their so-called “immaterial,” universal and unchanging nature (as he does here). It is one thing merely to claim that these laws “reflect the very nature of God,” another thing entirely to prove (a) that said god exists and (b) that the laws in question actually do reflect its nature. Sye has merely presented the claim that they do (thus assuming the existence of his god, which is what he was supposed to prove in the first place); he has not at all come close to accomplishing the latter tasks.

Notice Sye’s glaring presumptuousness in speaking on behalf of his visitors, most of whom he will never personally meet. How does Sye know that any given reader’s reason for rejecting the claim that his god exists has nothing to do with proof? Presuppositionalists are constantly asking non-believers to “account for” their knowledge; why doesn’t Sye “account for” what he claims to know here? It could be that readers find Sye’s “proof” deficient (they’d be right to do so), and this would be sufficient to reject its conclusion. Sye says that he can show that his readers’ rejection of the claim that his god exists by examining their initial reaction to his website. But even Sye does not know what his readers’ initial reaction to his website may be. That he does not know this is given away by the fact that he must ask his readers questions in order to probe for those reasons. Sye notes several possible initial reactions, but hardly provides an exhaustive list. It could be that his readers came to his website with a willingness to let Sye make his case, and upon examining his case found it to be insufficient to the task he put before himself. It may be the case that some readers are simply being honest when they examine Sye’s case and find it surreptitious or deceptive. Would Sye fault any of his site’s visitors for being honest?

Sye clearly wants to forestall any alternative to his god-belief:
Hoping that an alternate explanation for universal, immaterial, unchanging laws can someday be found apart from God, is a blind leap of faith, or wishful thinking. Isn't it interesting that this is exactly what professed unbelievers accuse Christians of?
In other words, Sye chides putting hope in what merely be imaginary as an alternative to putting hope in what believers can only imagine. A leap of faith in favor of some mystical concoction of human imagination which starkly departs from the realm in which we exist is to be preferred over man’s potential when it comes to what he may produce in the future (human beings have quite a track record, from the Empire State Building to the Declaration of Independence).

But all of this is for naught, for we already have a rational explanation for the universal, unchanging and objective laws which Sye has in mind. And that explanation is found in the philosophy of Objectivism. (If what he presents to us on his site is any indication, it appears that Sye has no familiarity with this philosophy; he certainly does not interact with it.) So there is no need to “hope” that “someday” an “alternative explanation” can be “found apart from God” (as if positing “God” explains these things to begin with!). No “leap of faith” is required, either for some imagined future explanation or for some supernatural deity which one can only imagine. No “wishful thinking” is needed.

And yes, hoping, leaps of faith, and wishful thinking, are indeed the kinds of things non-believers observe Christians indulging in when it comes to their god-belief. And no, non-believers are not constrained to doing the same, so long as they choose rational philosophy.

But rational philosophy, the philosophy of Objectivism, is precisely what believers do not want to consider. Indeed, does Sye consider the possibility that there is a rational alternative to his god-belief? Not that I can see.

Does Sye Ten Bruggencate present a genuine proof for the existence of “God”? Not if what is imaginary is distinct from what is real. If his god were real, why would Sye rely on the usual tactics of presuppositionalism to demonstrate its reality? I submit that he relies on these tactics precisely because his god is not real, and yet wants it to be real.

by Dawson Bethrick

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Nocterro's Anti-Objectivist Pseudo-Terrorism

There’s another critic of Objectivism who's hit the internet, and this guy’s got us on the run big time!! Finally someone has come along and refuted Objectivism. In his sleep, even!

No, I’m not making any of this up. Check out the original post for yourself right here: Why Objectivism Sucks

Nocterro raises numerous “challenges” (sic) against Objectivist philosophy. Let’s see how well they stand.

Problem #1: Nocterro says that Objectivism “tries too hard.” Thinkers should be so ambitious. They should cut themselves down to size, humble themselves before sovereign academic authorities who know better, or someone in the approved philosophical establishment might denounce or (gulp!) ignore them.

Nocterro writes:
Objectivism includes theories of metaphysics, epistemology, ethics, politics, and aesthetics.
That’s right – no philosophical system should attempt this. Therefore “Objectivism sucks.”

Nocterro writes:
Not only that, it is touted by some of its proponents as a massively complete philosophy that pwns pretty much everything else in existence. Nothing else in philosophy, as far as I have seen, makes such an incredibly bold claim.
Adherents of Objectivism think Objectivism is true. How preposterous! Imagine adopting a philosophical system because you’re persuaded that its principles and the application of those principles to every field of philosophy are sound! No one should dare do this! Thinkers should be contented with the intellectual shipwrecks endorsed at the college level, and never consider the possibility that a sea-worthy view of reality and life is available. Therefore “Objectivism sucks.”

Nocterro writes:
Consider, for example, metaphysical naturalism. It makes a claim regarding what sorts of things exist - nothing more. It doesn’t say ‘here’s a theory of knowledge’ or ‘here’s a political system’ - many different options are available for these things for a naturalist.
On Nocterro's view, one should never strive for an integrated worldview: he should not strive to develop an epistemology which is consistent with his metaphysics, or a theory of values which can stand on his metaphysical and epistemological views without contradiction. Rather, he should ensure that his worldview is a compartmentalized hash of conflicting elements, regardless of their discontinuity with each other. Objectivism is too principled in this regard. So instead of striving for non-contradiction among all its parts, today’s thinker should treat his philosophical needs as if it could be satisfied by channel-surfing the Ivy League – whatever demagogue happens to mesmerize him first rules the day.

Nocterro writes:
The first weakness of Objectivism lies in it’s incredible scope. Successfully challenge one part of it, and the entire thing crumbles. There’s too many possible weak points. Offer a counterexample to what its ethics entails - gone. Show that its political system doesn’t work - gone. For Objectivism to withstand any philosophical criticism at all, it must either narrow its scope, or be developed into the most mind-bogglingly airtight position philosophy has ever seen.
I’ve seen dozens and dozens of attempts to uncover any of the “many possible weak points” which Nocterro tells us afflict Objectivism. Unfortunately, almost all of them suffer from the very deficiency which characterizes Nocterro’s rant from beginning to end: a profound lack of firsthand familiarity with what Objectivism actually teaches. A telltale sign in Nocterro’s case is a complete absence of quotations from Objectivist sources. That alone ensures that he’s at a disadvantage. Additionally, he does not even interact with anything that Objectivism teaches through secondhand sources; he doesn’t address anything that Objectivism teaches. Objectivism’s great sin, in Nocterro’s mind, is that it academic philosophers do not, for whatever reason (critics love to insert their own list of complaints here), take it seriously. If the preferred group doesn’t take it seriously, then only a moron would take it seriously. This is how party insiders take care of their own. Nocterro is welcome to it.


Problem #2: Objectivism “has virtually no support in the modern-day philosophical community.” Never mind the fact that Objectivism never needed or asked for support in the modern-day philosophical community. They have their own problems (just look at today’s global mess), and Objectivism is more than happy to make a clean break from them.

Nocterro writes:
I suspect the first objection to this point will be something along the lines of “So? All those other philosophers are wrong!
Preposterous! All those philosophers have Ph.D.s! How could they possibly be wrong on anything? By the way, who are these folks? Oh yes, they remain unnamed. Nocterro has so much confidence in them that he doesn’t name one of them. Apparently they’re all supposed to be infallible thinkers whose views are to be accepted unquestionably. Otherwise, if you dispute what they say, Nocterro will accuse you of “wonkyness.” And nobody wants that!

Nocterro writes:
But consider this - there’s something else that A) Doesn’t have any support in the relevant community, and B) would have at least a moderate level of support if it were even plausibly true. So, what is this mysterious thing that’s analogous to Objectivism?
Only one other thing? What is that one other thing?

Nocterro writes:
Young-earth creationism.
Ah, guilt by superficial association. Nocterro would have us believe that everything that finds “backing” in “the relevant community” is perfectly sound and rational. That same community is what has given us the welfare state we now live in.

Now Nocterro ridicules the idea that Objectivism’s critics might be dishonest. And yet here he puts Objectivism on the same level of “Young-earth Creationism.” It should not be difficult for anyone with firsthand familiarity with Objectivism and any form of creationism to see the crass dishonesty in this. Nocterro inadvertently offers himself as confirmation of the suspicion of dishonesty (perhaps he thinks no one could ever be dishonest).

Nocterro writes:
YECism, like Objectivism, has little to no backing in the relevant community (science to Objectivism’s philosophy).
Is Nocterro saying that Objectivism has no confirming basis in the sciences? Clearly he’s not familiar with the work of David Kelley, Harry Binswanger, David Harriman and numerous others who have done their homework in this regard.

Nocterro writes:
Why is this? I think the most likely explanation is that the experts just don’t think it’s strong enough to be taken seriously, and thus dismiss it.
Yes, the high school clique of modern academia do tend to move in unison on many matters. No one wants to “stick his neck out.” If others in the academic establishment aren’t taking it seriously, then by all means, don’t touch it with a ten foot pole. You might lose tenure! You might lose your prime parking space. You might miss out on ice cream on Friday afternoons!

But where are the academic papers which present these devastating critiques of Objectivism? Oh, that’s right, the academics won’t give Objectivism the time of day. So if they denounce Objectivism, they may be doing so out of utter ignorance of what it teaches. Of course, this does not concern Nocterro. All that matters to him is that he does not find an entry on the issue of metaphysical primacy in Blackwell’s Companion to Philosophy or discussion of the hierarchical nature of knowledge in his introductory philosophy course in college. If it’s not taught in these infallible and omniscient sources, then only a kook would take them seriously.

Meanwhile, in response to Nocterro’s gratuitously uninformed rant against Objectivism, Gil S., another forum member, gave his glowing thumbs up response, saying he “couldn’t agree more” with what Nocterro has posted, and pointed to a diatribe by none other than “the Maverick Philosopher.” We’ve already seen examples of the kind of “rigor” one can expect from this inbred party-liner in examining Objectivism (see here).

Nocterro writes:
It’s a sad truth that there are many ideas posited that really aren’t worth taking seriously - see Jesus as myth, moon landing hoax, and 9/11 truthers.
So play it safe – don’t affirm any new ideas and bury your head in the crowd. If you propose an idea of your own, you might be shunned by the academic community, and for the secondhander that’s a fate worse than death.

Nocterro gives his recommendation:
We probably shouldn’t even be addressing these things - they should be ignored, or in the case of those that are immoral as well as silly (such as holocaust denial), ridiculed.
So far, it’s wholly evident that Nocterro has done precisely this in regard to Objectivism: he’s ignored it completely, demonstrating no informed familiarity with what it teaches, and showing more concern for the fact that academics joined at the click of the heel don’t like it than for interacting with its teachings intelligibly.

Nocterro writes:
Objectivism is almost certainly one of these - it’s an idea that’s been around for awhile, so the relevant experts have had a chance to look at it.
But have they? Where are the peer-reviewed papers criticizing Objectivism, tearing it apart to shreds?

Nocterro writes:
Very, very few accept it.
How many have even examined it? Nocterro gives the impression that they're all intimately familiar with Objectivism. My experience has confirmed quite the opposite in fact. Notice how unfamiliar Nocterro himself is.

Nocterro continues:
It’s certainly not “mainstream”.
I don't know of any Objectivist who has ever claimed that Objectivist is "mainstream."

Nocterro writes:
Not only that, there’s also the issue of conspiracy. What I mean by this is that to hold that Objectivism is philosophically tenable, one must posit the bizarre notion that almost every professional in the relevant field is either dishonest, or mistaken, in rejecting it.
It could be that they’re just not informed about what Objectivism actually teaches. Nocterro is a case in point. He doesn’t quote anything from Objectivist sources to make his points. His goal is simply to malign Objectivism, not to criticize what it teaches, and he does this (as has already been seen up to this point) in a manner that only a high-schooler would appreciate.

Nocterro:
So, you may ask, why am I addressing Objectivism? Simple: I’m an insomniac, and I’m bored at the moment.
Is that really why? Is Nocterro really being honest here?


Problem #3: In the next section, titled “Wonkyness,” Nocterro identifies his standard of measure:

“What”, you may ask, “is wonkyness?” Wonkyness is a measure of the amount of phrases that some idea employs that seem to be meaningless in the field of study of which the idea is a part. For example, the Intelligent Design crows commonly cites “complex specified information” or “specified complexity” as evidence. However, these terms don’t mean much to either biologists or information theorists. So, Intelligent Design has a certain level of wonkyness.
Since Nocterro styles “wonkyness” as “a measure” of something, what are the degrees by which that measurement is meted? Perhaps we could call it the “wonk.” Nocterro cites as an example theistic creationism in its latest garb, “Intelligent Design.” Nocterro does not indicate how many “wonks” can be calculated in examining Intelligent Design, but I’m sure he’d agree it is many. But notice how Nocterro thinks this system of measurement can be reliably applied: by going outside a system and seeing if that system’s terminology has any meaning to those who may very well be completely unfamiliar with the specifics of the system in question. The method of measurement he prefers makes no guarantee that those consulted will have the familiarity needed to generate a reliable wonk rating, nor does it seem to allow for an internal critique of the system in question. Also, it invites subjectivism since it provides no standard for determining the suitability of consultants. It’s essentially a method of surveying others’ opinions, a common theme in Nocterro’s remarks about Objectivism. Of course, if you ask an accounting expert about metallurgical terminology, you may find that metallurgy’s terms “don’t mean much” to the accountant. Therefore, according to Nocterro’s standard, metallurgy must have a certain level of wonkyness.

In applying this system of measurement to Rand’s philosophy, Nocterro ignores the fact that Rand was often careful to explain her terms, especially terms that are key to her system’s essential principles. She not only gave her own definitions (and that in itself bothered a lot of folks – how dare she!), she developed those definitions in accordance to her own theory of definition (a major component of her theory of concepts). Moreover, the system she developed applied those definitions consistently. Perhaps this annoys folks like Nocterro as well. After all, Nocterro thinks it’s wrong to develop a comprehensive view of life and reality that is integrated without contradiction. We learned this in his opening statement.

Nocterro writes:
Now, back to Objectivism. One example I’ve seen cited in discussion regarding Objectivism is ‘the hierarchial nature of knowledge’. I’ve not seen this idea in any literature in the field of Epistemology that I can recall, and I’ve only seen it (briefly) explained once (here: http://tinyurl.com/27w5mnf).
That’s right: Nocterro’s never seen this idea before (he’s been learning about philosophy from under a rock apparently), so it can’t possibly have any merit to it. Therefore, “Objectivism sucks.” Nocterro’s “rigor,” wit and wisdom are simply amazing! He should run for president – he’d fit right in with the Washington crowd.

You will notice that Nocterro linked to this article on the Importance of Philosophy website. Nocterro is thus aware of a source where he can go to get some introductory information on the idea. But he does not tell us why it “sucks” or why it makes Objectivism “suck.” Again, he just tells us that this idea is new to him. Perhaps he thinks it’s a bad idea because of this.

Nocterro writes:
Another example of wonkyness is the ‘fallacy of the stolen concept’. A search for “stolen concept” on http://www.logicalfallacies.info/ returns no results. The only mention of this fallacy I can find on the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy is on the Ayn Rand page.
So Nocterro must mean that, since he cannot find information about the fallacy of the stolen concept on the one website he’s checked, a stolen concept can’t possibly be a real fallacy. Go ahead and affirm the validity of geometry while denying the truth of basic number theory, of measurement, of addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, square roots, Pi, etc.

Of course, some critics of Objectivism have insisted that Rand’s identification of the fallacy of the stolen concept is nothing new (though they have a really hard time pointing to a prior thinker who identifies it explicitly). Those same critics agree that it is a fallacy, but want to deny Rand any credit for discovering it. Nocterro pretty much put a capper on that one, all by citing a single source!

Nocterro writes:
There are most likely many other examples of wonkyness in Rand’s work; however to page through “The Fountainhead” and “Atlas Shrugged” looking for them is a bit more than I can bear.
Oh, but those examples of “wonkyness” are there, Nocterro assures us. He can’t produce any for us, even though they’re on every page of Rand’s novels. Just take Nocterro’s word for it. He’s shown himself to be really informed expert on Objectivism so far, hasn’t he?

Nocterro writes:
In any case, it’s apparent that at least these two ideas, upon which Objectivism seems to depend entirely, are in fact examples of wonkyness.
Now here’s something worse than “wonkyness”: Nocterro thinks that Objectivism depends entirely on 1) the idea that knowledge has a hierarchical structure, and 2) the identification of the fallacy of the stolen concept. Nothing about a theory of perception, a theory of concepts, axioms, the issue of metaphysical primacy, unit economy, a theory of entities, and all the other things that we’d apparently be mistakenly led to think are involved in informing the fundamentals of Objectivist philosophy were we to go by Objectivist sources.

Nocterro seems to put no limit on how far he can embarrass himself:
Now, you might ask: isn’t the idea of wonkyness itself an example of wonkyness? Well, no. Wonkyness, far from being some sort of logical or metaphysical core of this critique, is merely a name, or label I’ve given to ideas which are not employed in a relevant field. You can call it whatever you like - the idea behind it is that sometimes people have no clue what they’re talking about.
As if Nocterro’s shown himself to be a real expert on the matter that he’s been talking about.

In a section titled “Final Thoughts,” Nocterro writes:
Before I get a slew of comments from Objectivists attempting to defend their pet theory, I’d just like to point out one thing. This is not entitled “why Objectivism is false” or “why Objectivism fails”; but “why Objectivism sucks”. I am well aware that I have only indirectly critiqued what Objectivism actually posits. I have not addressed, for example, ethical egoism, or the relationship between consciousness and objects. However, I don’t really see a need to.
Exactly: not only has Nocterro failed into interact with what Objectivism actually teaches, he knowingly has failed to do so, and doesn’t think it’s necessary to do so. It’s more likely the case that he wouldn’t stand a chance had he attempted a more “rigorous” examination of Objectivism (academics are always patting each other on the back for their “rigor”).

Nocterro writes:
Objectivists, like others who have “dogmas” (YECs, Mormons, etc.) will most likely never give up this philosophy - at least not because of any argument against it.
Perhaps this is what’s behind Nocterro’s resentment against Objectivism – it has a loyal following. And if “argument against” Objectivism is what Nocterro has presented in “only indirectly critique[ing] what Objectivism actually posits,” guess again. He hasn’t even done that. Really, he’s simply given us an opportunity to be entertained.

Nocterro writes:
Rather, like the other aforementioned groups, they must come to realize it is untenable on their own.
If “critiques” like Nocterro’s are the worst that are available (and I’ve seen many attempts which were actually serious), then if there really is something wrong with Objectivism, we certainly will not learn what it is from Nocterro.

Nocterro writes:
This post was written because I was bored, and for anyone considering studying Objectivism to see whether it’s a decent idea.
Nocterro wants his readers to think that he wrote his pile of slander because he was bored, as this would give the impression that it takes little effort to challenge Objectivism. And though it’s true that his spew indicates that he’s put precious little effort into examining Objectivism (has he shown that any one thing which Objectivism teaches is false? Not that I can see), someone who is truly interested in determining whether Objectivism is “a decent idea” or not would do better to examine Objectivism from its own sources rather than through third-hand and fourth-rate displays of uninformed naysaying that Nocterro serves up.


So there you have it: another devastating critique of Objectivism without one quotation from an Objectivist source modeling extravagance of attitude and scarcity of content. It all goes to confirm what I’ve said before: the only alternative to Objectivism is some form of subjectivism. For Nocterro, Objectivism “sucks” because his crowd is either ignorant of it, they don’t like it, or they resented Rand for daring to speak on philosophical matters without their approval. And while we can point to the results of the academic establishment’s ideas put into action (national stagnation, welfare statism, government confiscation of wealth, collectivization of “the masses,” the sacrifice of the individual to the in-crowd’s designs, genocidal pogroms, etc.), Nocterro cannot point to anything like this that has come about as a result of Objectivism. Objectivism provides a defense of human reason and individual liberty. It is therefore to be denounced, ridiculed, vilified and condemned by the establishment community, as reason and liberty are direct threats to their self-enthronement.

Like many secular critics of Objectivism, Nocterro gives no indication of what he considers a worthy alternative to Objectivism. Though it’s clear that any alternative must bear the academic community’s inbred stamp of approval. His profile identifies him as a “deist,” which tells us that whatever specifics his worldview affirms, he grants metaphysical primacy to consciousness at least insofar as his deism is concerned. But deists are a mixed bag when it comes to other things that they endorse. Deism has no inherent theory of concepts (in fact, Nocterro seems to think that talk of concepts is “meaningless” – a stolen concept if there ever were one), no inherent view of morality, of politics, etc.

Also, just as theists who seek to rescue their god from the problem of evil tell us about themselves, Nocterro’s tirade against Objectivism is more autobiographical than anything else: his laziness as a thinker is conspicuous, he writes in a state of drowsiness , he shirks the responsibility of honest interaction, he comes across as so preoccupied with his own bitterness against Objectivism that it’s clear that his attitude will probably get in the way of any learning he’s capable of for quite some time. He also tells us that he prefers the safety of anonymous numbers, as if the consensus of an anonymous group who presumably agree with everything he says were the key to unlocking the deeper secrets of truth.

If Nocterro were to try to put some actual content to his raging beef against Objectivism, what would the result be? If he challenged the primacy of existence, would he not be affirming his position’s adherence to the primacy of consciousness while smuggling the primacy of existence in the process? If he challenged the view that nature has a hierarchical structure, would he not be likening knowledge to “a village of squat bungalows, with every room huddling down against the earth’s surface” (Peikoff, Objectivism: The Philosophy of Ayn Rand, p. 130), thus confirming Rand’s prediction that her critics were burdened by what she called “concrete-bound thinking” (cf. “How to Read (and Not to Write),” The Ayn Rand Letter, I, 26, 5)? If he were to challenge Objectivism’s egoism, would he not be endorsing some form of sacrifice in ethics? Nocterro has learned academia’s lessons well: don’t stick your neck out, don’t take a stand, hide in the shadows, keep your head lowered in the huddle, and hope for the safety of the group.

It is no secret that Rand was an outsider who had no interest in acquiring the necessary passkeys to the prestige of inbred academia. She was a successful businesswoman, a defender of individual liberty and capitalism, an intransigent atheist and an outspoken critic of communism abroad and the New Left at home. Each of these put her in the academic establishment’s sights. How dare she question their authority!

Just take a quick look at the consistent record of intellectual bankruptcy that academic insiders have given the world, from Cartesian rationalism to Kantian idealism, from Humean skepticism to Dialectical Materialism, from Logical Positivism to Linquistic Analysis, from Anal Phil to Pragmatism, from the Existentialist worship of nausea to Post-Modernism, etc., etc., etc. The list goes on. Objectivism represents a clean break from this track record of disappointment and letdown which are the heritage of the philosophical establishment. A rejection of Objectivism is a vote for a continuation of the tragedies that these highbrowed failures have brought on men throughout the ages. But the Nocterro’s of the world are not concerned about the results of their philosophical views when put into practice; their chief concern is to be part of the in-crowd, to assume the role of a useful idiot and achieve a rank in some ruling class.

by Dawson Bethrick

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Is the Christian God's Existence "Self-Evident"?

Below are some comments I left over at a blog post on Choosing Hats. They are presently awaiting moderator approval. I do not know if they will be published on that site, but I wanted to share them with my readers here. Don't worry, I won't be moderating any comments on my blog. Feel free to have your say if you have a response to what I've written.


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Agreus: “There is no need to provide an argument justifying the existence of logic and in fact such an endeavor would be pointless. The same does not hold true for the existence of God.”

Zao Thanatoo responded: “Special pleading fallacy.”

Agreus’ position could occasion the special pleading fallacy only if the word “God” refers to some cognitive aspect of man’s consciousness, just as the concept ‘logic’ does. In this sense, logic is self-evident (at least its fundamental principle of identity) in the same sense that consciousness is self-evident. Consciousness is axiomatic, just as the law of identity is (i.e., the most fundamental law of logic).

But the Christian god is supposed to be an independently existing entity, not a cognitive aspect of man’s consciousness. So there is a fundamental distinction here which Zao is missing, and the fact that he’s missing it tells us something that Christians do not want to admit.

The reason why Chris Bolt thinks there’s “an opportunity to reply with the same statement substituting ‘God’ for ‘Logic’” is because the Christian god is actually imaginary, not real. It’s all in the believer’s mind, not an independently existing entity. This is precisely why apologists continually point to cognitive phenomena – such as logic, universals, moral principles, and the like – as if they were in the same class of objects as the Christian god. While logic, universals, moral principles, etc., are components of conscious operations, the Christian god seems so close to these in the believer’s understanding precisely because it is imaginary – i.e., residing in the believer’s mind.

The only way that “God” would be “self-evident” in the same sense as logic is, is that if “God” were cognitive or psychological in some sense, available to man’s awareness by means of introspection. But Christians tell us that it is a real entity, existing independent of human conscious operations. So Zao’s charge of fallacy here doesn’t stick. In fact, it is a tacit admission of the fact that the Christian god is imaginary in nature.

Agreus: “God’s existence is not self-evident.”

Zao Thanatoo: “Ipse dixit fallacy.”

I think Agreus is simply making an honest observation here. After all, by what means is he supposed to have direct awareness of the Christian god? Even the bible tells us that it is invisible, that it has no body, that it is incorporeal, immaterial, non-physical, etc. Certainly Agreus cannot perceive the Christian god through his senses. But, Agreus could *imagine* it, just as Christians do. Then it might seem “self-evident” if one subscribes to a metaphysics which allows for the distinction between the real and the imaginary to be blurred (as Christianity does).

Agreus: “The fact that Christian apologists attempt to argue for the existence of God seems to indicate that God’s existence is not self-evident.”

Zao Thanatoo: “Enthymeme suppressing premise to conceal unsoundness.”

I would agree with Agreus here, and find no compelling reason to agree with Zao’s unargued counter-retort. Agreus is right: the apologist’s own actions speak louder than his words. We do not need to argue for the existence of something which we can perceive directly – i.e., for that which is self-evident. Argument is a vehicle for articulating inference from what is ultimately directly perceived to that which is not directly perceived. So just by trying to argue for the existence of their god, Christians are in effect conceding that its existence needs to be established by means of argument, and this would not be necessary if it were in fact self-evident. Again, by what means is Agreus supposed to be directly aware of the Christian god, if not by means of imagining it (as Christians do)? By “faith”?

Agreus: “I would have no problem with the theist stating God is self-evident, if that is how they desire to express their belief in God.”

Zao Thanatoo: “God is self-evident.”

Ipse dixit fallacy. Just by saying that “God is self-evident,” along with all the other characteristics that Christians attribute to their god, Christians are in fact conceding that their god is imaginary in nature.

by Dawson Bethrick

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

The Storybook Worldview

Presuppositionalists prefer to deploy their apologetic devices in terms of an antithesis between Christians and non-Christians. Much of the way in which they conceive of this antithesis is imaginary in nature, as it is framed in terms of their theology, and their theology is informed by elements culled from a book of stories which only take life in the imagination of the reader. The presuppositionalist concept of antithesis consists of deliberately filtering their understandings and inferences in terms of an us-versus-them perspective, as the pitting of one collective locked in a death match against an opposed collective. In the end, on the Christian’s faith-based presuppositions, one’s ethical import is determined by which collective he belongs to. Like giddy high-schoolers anxious to be part of the clique, it’s all about belonging to a group, because validation is attainable for such persons only by being accepted by the group. (Notice how many Christian blogs have a team of contributors who have found it necessary to join forces, apparently unable to stand alone.)

But there is a hint of truth to the claim that an antithesis exists, at least between the Christian on the one hand, and the one who adheres to an objective understanding of the world on the other. Unlike the rational human being, who recognizes the fact that reality sets its own terms independent of human inventions, the Christian intentionally views everything through the prism of a collection of stories, stories which even on the his own premises the Christian could not genuinely know to be true, regardless of how strongly he believes them to be true. Indeed, it is one thing to believe that something is true, and another to know that it is true. This distinction is lost on most presuppositionalists, since they tend to construe knowledge in terms of belief in the first place (I have already criticized this view here).

Christians tend to portray themselves as a collective bound together by a story, a story which they insist is true, even when facts are brought against it. In actuality it is their acceptance of this story – which is a volitional action on each adherent’s part – which gives them this shared sense of mutual connection and commonality. Just accept the story, and Presto! you’re immediately part of the beloved clique, the 'happnen' in-crowd.

Not only does this acceptance of a story give Christians a sense of unity (mind you, a unity which crumbles into splinters very easily), it also shapes in the way they understand the world. As Cornelius Van Til puts it in the Mein Kampf of presuppositionalism:
Christians interpret every fact in the light of the same story. For them the nature of every fact in this world is determined by the place it occupies in the story. The story they cannot get from any other source than supernatural revelation. The Christian finds that his conscience agrees to the truth of the story. He holds that those who deny the truth of the story have an axe to grind. They do not want the story to be true; they do not want the facts to be what the story says they are. (The Defense of the Faith, 4th ed., quoted in Hubner, Jamin, The Portable Presuppositionalist, p. 239).
It is a story, then, which serves as the believer’s filter in “interpret[ing] every fact” that he encounters and is willing to consider. The believer presumes, as an inherent consequence of his acceptance of the story as a fundamental truth about the world and as a non-negotiable premise of his worldview, that “every fact in this world is determined by the place it occupies in the story” which he has accepted as the ultimate standard of his waking cognition. Thus an implicit circularity installs itself in his outlook as the self-attesting reassurance that what he has accepted is true, in spite of its stark departure from the reality with which he interacts on a daily basis. On the Christian’s premise, the story as such supersedes facts as such, for any facts which the believer finds himself dealing with are to be “interpreted” in terms of the story’s dictates. The story provides an imaginative backdrop, an artificial overlay, which the believer actively projects onto the sum of his experiences in order to bring his mind into conformity with the prescribed devotional program of the bible.

Those who do not accept the story are characterized as willfully resisting what the believer considers an incontestable truth: “They do not want the story to be true; they do not want the facts to be what the story says they are.” Non-believers are represented in the literature as slaves to their nefarious, truth-denying desires: they don’t want the story to be true; they do not want the facts to be what the story says they are. Acceptance of the story somehow provides the believer with intimate familiarity of non-believers’ motivations. The believer is not at the same time encouraged to consider the possibilities that non-believers honestly do not believe the story is true, and that believers are the ones who are held captive by their desires in wanting the story to be true. Such proposals are kept safely out of sight, as they are not to be considered, for the believer has no rational defense against them.

As with other specimens of fiction, the bible-believer’s story takes its residence in the believer’s imagination. However, it is not a story which the believer’s own imagination creates, but which his own imagination informs as he tries to digest its contents into the sum of his cognition, whose inner workings are situated beyond his own understanding (for he does not endeavor to understand the nature of his imaginative indulgences when it comes to his theism), given his focus on seeking to enshrine the elements of the story as a guide to his understanding of the world. The more concrete elements of the story are unavoidably open to being imagined differently from believer to believer, but certain stereotypes have as a matter of tradition inserted themselves into the images which believers cultivate as they recreate biblical scenes in their minds. When Jesus commanded the water pots to be full of wine at the marriage in Cana (cf. John 2:1-11), for instance, the believer may imagine that he wore a white robe and had a long beard, was he taller than most of the other guests, had an austere sense of omniscient awareness and wisdom, spoke softly and compassionately, that he radiated with a holy glow visible to “the chosen,” etc. These images have worked their way into the believer’s imagination courtesy of earlier believers who concretized their imaginings of the same story in media such as paintings and the silver screen. But they are all imaginary just the same.

In the passage by Van Til quoted above, the Christian is explicitly encouraged to believe that “those who deny the truth of the story have an axe to grind,” which is not intended to be complimentary. The believer’s experience of the world is carefully managed by those who watch over him, who oversee the constant surveillance over his devotion to the program, as he is told specifically how to view all outsiders to the faith, given the fact that they are outsiders to the faith. The us-versus-them collectivism inherent in the religious allegiance to the Christian worldview is affirmed explicitly in the substance of the narrative itself (cf. Mt. 12:30: “He that is not with me is against me”). To put it bluntly, those who have not chosen, as the Christian believer has chosen, to accept “the story” as some incontestable cosmic truth about reality, are to be seen as stubbornly resisting truth in an irresistible fit of contempt, a product of their depravity, as a result of some fundamental choice they have made in opposition to the ethical path which only the story can offer.

So acceptance of the story as truth, regardless of actual truth value, its content and its meaning under examination, is of paramount importance to the devotional program of Christianity. The believer is expected to adopt the disposition that the story is worth dying for. And even though it is never explained how the story can benefit from the believer’s self-sacrifice, he is told explicitly that “religious faith is something to die for and something to live every moment” (Kreeft and Tacelli, Handbook of Christian Apologetics, p. 14). The believer is to give priority, just as in Kreeft and Tacelli’s statement, to being willing to die for the story. The believer is not to consider the fact that differing interpretations of the same story are what has caused Christianity to implode on itself since its very inception, resulting in hundreds if not thousands of schisms, sects, denominations, factions and cultic offshoots. He is not to consider the fact that each believer’s imagination plays an essential role in his reading of the story and in his overall religious experience, a role which governs his interpretation of the story. What is important is that the believer do his best not to fall prey to the “false prophets” of other religions, and other interpretations of the same story. There is only one story, he is taught, and only one interpretation of that story. Anything else is heresy and depravity.

As Van Til states:
Scripture presents itself as being the only light in terms of which the truth about facts and their relations can be discovered. (The Defense of the Faith, p. 108)
In other words, for the Christian believer, the story comes first, and then the facts, which are admitted only after the story has been accepted as true, and which are “interpreted” in terms of the story as the believer comes to understand it. The facts themselves do nothing to inform or confirm the story. Rather, they are to be placed, by a selective process performed by the believer, into their proper role as the story is held to govern them. The story does not need to conform to facts that are independently discovered and integrated according to a rational system of cognition; rather, the facts are to be made to conform to the story. And the story is to be found in a storybook, which is to be revered as a sacred artifact having supernatural origins and supernatural content, and therefore unquestionably true no matter what it says. The storybook’s contents are to be accepted as true even before the believer has read what it says.

Christianity, then, is a worldview based on a storybook, and which requires that its adherents view the world through the prism of a storybook. For those who do interpret the world in terms of what the storybook would have them believe, those who do not take the storybook seriously and similarly look at the world in terms of what the storybook says, are to be scorned, despised, held in contempt and considered to be a threat. It is for this reason that believers always reserve for themselves the option of simply ignoring what critics of Christian philosophy have to say: since they do not accept the story, non-Christians are considered to be darkened in their understanding, given over to demonic influences, and beyond the reach of the “reasoning” which believers themselves find so persuasive and enticing.

For the Christian, the atheist is the most despicable of spoilsports. He’s a spoilsport because his very existence, given the fact that he is a non-believer, serves as a constant reminder to the believer that the storybook is actually a cauldron of deception. This is not only why non-believers are so despised, but why they are also the target of so much Christian animosity and resentment. Defeating the non-believer is of utmost priority to defenders of the Christian faith, as his very existence constitutes a lethal threat to the sanctity which they want their storybook to possess. Defeating the non-believer on his own terms is unnecessary and even to be discouraged, for it could end up in failure. Discrediting by means of insult is ultimately the only way out for believers, and they know this, which is why many internet apologists have learned to head directly for this path when they encounter criticism.

Philosophically, the storybook leads the believer into a pit of internal conundrums and contradictions, mental snares which are acknowledged to exist but characterized as “paradoxes” so as to construe them as evidence of the supernatural genius and mysteriousness of its alleged author, for “God must always remain mysterious to man” (Cornelius Van Til, The Defense of the Faith, p. 14). It portrays its god as a father which allows his only begotten son to be tortured and murdered by vicious villains, and equates this same god with “love” (I Jn. 4:8). It claims that its god is uncreated and equates it with light (I Jn. 1:5), and it tells us that light was created (Gen. 1:3). It tells us that “whatsoever is not of faith is sin” (Rom. 14:23) and that “the law is not of faith” (Gal. 3:12), but insists that the law is not sin (Rom. 7:7). It tells us that things which are invisible are “clearly seen” (Rom. 1:20).

The story which Christians accept as truth, characterizes man as inherently defective. And yet his creator is supposedly “perfect” (Mt. 5:48), whose “work is perfect” (Deut. 32:4), whose “way is perfect” (2 Sam. 22:31). This perfect creator created imperfection (see here). The perfect creator’s greatest creation – which is man – turns out to be one of the biggest bungles of all history, according to Christian doctrine itself.

Left alone, man will – according to the storybook-informed Christian worldview – automatically deviate from “the truth,” for “the truth” is not something that he can discover on his own. According to Christianity, truth is something that must be “revealed” to man from some supernatural source. Once the priests’ underlying premises are accepted, the believer has no basis to question their propagandistic influence and manipulation, and is thus prone to sacrificing himself to their lead, believing that such sacrifice is good, moral, noble. As for the problem that results from supposing that man is inherently defective on the one hand, and created by a perfect creator on the other, the priests have an explanation for this: man chose to depart from the true path. That is, one man chose to depart, and all men were thus infected with this defect as a result. Not only does this clue us in on the collectivistic conception of guilt which Christianity fosters in the believer’s psyche, it is also an example of blaming the product rather than the producer for the product’s faults. Not only are all the products vulnerable to the defects of one, but the producer continues to produce more products after its first product has proved defective, allowing the defect to propagate throughout the general population. The storybook would have us believe that this is the choice of a perfect creator. And responsibility for the summary deficiencies resulting from the choices on the part of the producer, is laid at the feet of every product. It’s the lemon’s fault that it is a lemon.

But this distortion of justice is all part of the story which the believer is supposed to swallow hook, line and sinker. Christian apologist John Frame puts it as follows:
As Calvin said, the Christian should look at nature with the “spectacles of Scripture.” If even unfallen Adam needed to interpret the world according to God’s verbal utterance, how much more do we!... To allow Scripture this corrective work, we must accept the principle that our settled belief as to Scripture’s teaching must take precedence over what we would believe from natural revelation alone. (Apologetics to the Glory of God, p. 23)
So while, according to the story, the entire creation is saturated with defects (cf. “sin”), the creator itself is to be revered as incapable of doing wrong, and “the creature” (i.e., the believer) is to take on “the spectacles of Scripture” and “interpret the world according to” the “verbal utterance” of the one who created the mess in the first place. And rather than correcting the problem in the product, the Christian god has chosen instead to offer a patch – namely the storybook – which the believer is required to apply to himself by accepting its contents as unquestionable truth and joining a group of people seeking to do the same.

Frame insists that he is “not advocating dogmatic adherence to ideas based on half-baked exegesis and rejection of, say, scientific theories on the basis of such sloppy theologizing” (Ibid., p. 23n.26), though he does advocate the rejection of the scientific theory of evolution because of its damning threat to the biblical worldview (cf. pp. 103, 129, et al.). It is interesting that Frame characterizes evolution as a form of idolatry, saying,
Nobody can prove evolution. Evolution is a hypothesis held by faith, and all supposed facts must be made to fit into its framework. It is a “paradigm” in Thomas Kuhn’s sense, a criterion for judging other proposals, itself not subject to judgment. Indeed, evolution is necessary, once one rejects creation. For either the earth was produced supernaturally (i.e., created0 or it was produced naturally, apart from God. Any naturalistic origin of the world will involve evolution, for it will be the result of natural laws operating upon primitive matter, producing complexity over time. Thus, the concept of evolution did not begin with Darwin. Rather, it has been characteristic of every non-Christian philosophy since that of Thales in the sixth century B.C. (Ibid., p. 197)
So, for Frame, and many other Christian believers, the theory of evolution is a story competing with the storybook of the Christian bible. As with the story line of the Christian bible, evolution requires its adherents to make “all… facts… fit into its framework.” It’s okay when the guiding story involves the supernatural beings of “Scripture,” but if it involves science which man can discover and validate by his own faculties, it is an unprovable “hypothesis held by faith,” and thus, apparently, to be abandoned, even condemned.

Are you following this?

Also, Frame tells us that he is not saying
that our settled beliefs concerning the teaching of Scripture are infallible… But I repeat: those settled beliefs must take precedence over our beliefs, settled or not, from other sources. Otherwise, we do not allow Scripture to be a true corrective to our understanding of natural revelation. (Ibid., pp. 23-24n.27).
Frame speaks of not allowing “Scripture to be a true corrective to our understanding” of nature, as if there were some dismal consequence to be worried about here. But what would be wrong in allowing nature to speak for itself? What is the danger here if not the fact that nature does not conform to what the storybook says? If nature did naturally confirm what the storybook says, would Frame have such concerns? I suspect not. If nature does not naturally confirm what the storybook says, what does this tell us about the value of the storybook?

I found the following statement from Frame most curious. He writes:
there are some who claim that proof is necessary for them… Scripture does more than simply rebuke them. It provides much persuasive testimony of God’s reality and also points us to sources outside itself where more testimony can be found. (Ibid., p. 66)
Note that the storybook’s content is characterized as “testimony.” And “testimony” for Christians, at least when it comes from a Christian source, is supposed to be taken as unimpeachably factual. If there is a non-circular argument for such a self-serving view, I’d like to see it.

What I find interesting about this statement is Frame’s view of proof. Presuppositionalists insist that their “transcendental argument” is “absolutely certain proof” of the Christian god’s existence and of “the truth of Christian theism” (cf. Van Til, The Defense of the Faith, 3rd ed., p. 103), and that it is the only apologetic scheme compatible with the bible. So if there is a “proof” of the Christian god’s existence which is so compatible with what Christians call their god’s verbal revelation, why would that verbal revelation rebuke or condemn those who expect proof?

In regards to presuppositionalism proper, notice how it involves appeals to a storybook in order to settle age-old philosophical questions. The problem of universals, for instance, is “answered” by pointing to a triune god – i.e., to a character in a storybook which the believer has no alternative but to imagine in his own mind. It is supposedly in the mind of this supernatural triune god where “the one” and “the many” – “unity” and “plurality” – are fundamentally related. Thus, instead of understanding the relationship between the multitude of concrete objects which we perceive and the abstractions by which we unite them in a conceptual manner, the presuppositionalist approach prefers to attribute this relationship to the mind of a character found in a storybook which takes residence in the believer’s imagination. Similarly with the so-called “problem of induction” raised by the Scottish philosopher David Hume. Instead of questioning the premises of Hume’s skeptical argument, presuppositionalists prefer to take Hume’s argument for granted and point to a character from their sacred storybook as the solution to the ill-conceived problem. On presuppositionalist grounds, the problem of induction is “solved” – not by recognizing the objective nature of reality and understanding the conceptual process by which the human mind performs inductive inferences – but by pointing to a storybook character which has allegedly “created the universe in which we live (Gen. 1:1, Col. 1:16), and who sovereignly maintains it as we find it to be (Heb. 1:3)” (Brian Knapp, “Induction and the Unbeliever,” The Portable Presuppositionalist, p. 132). Does this bring us any closer to a rational understanding of induction? Of course it doesn’t. But it conforms to the believer’s devotion to the view that the storybook is true, and that’s what’s important to the believer.

We cannot expect a storybook which departs from reality so radically as the bible does, to provide rational answers to such important questions. Instead, we are expected to simply don “spectacles of Scripture” and ignore its discrepancies with reality as if they did not exist, as if they would disappear if we ignore them long enough. Such is the presuppositionalist’s last resort, one which he takes more often than he’d like to admit.

by Dawson Bethrick