Two Quick Questions

May 23, 2009

Finals week is officially over, which means more time for life! And blogging. I have two quick questions for today, and by next week we should be back to the regular posting schedule.

I was taking out the trash this morning like I do every week. Every time I do this, our cats get scared, and I always get a chuckle out of watching them freak out. I know they're safe, but they can't seem to figure this out despite the fact it's happened once a week for their entire lives and nothing bad has happened yet. Still, they run the same program every time they hear the garbage man, and it's funny. Now here are the two quick questions:

1) Is it a violation of beneficence to behave in a way that frightens another sentient being if we know for certain they are completely safe?

2) Am I sick or twisted for finding amusement in my cats' fears?





False Argument #26: The Emptiness Of Theology

May 11, 2009

I will soon develop this into a detailed, point-by-point response to the source material, but for now, I would simply like to thank Professor Dawkins for providing me with the most easily refuted false argument in this series to date.

In a discussion concerning the "reconciliation" of science and theology, the following atheist sermon was ironically published in Free Inquiry Magazine, Volume 18, #2:

A dismally unctuous editorial in the British newspaper the Independent
recently asked for a reconciliation between science and "theology." It
remarked that 'People want to know as much as possible about their
origins.' I certainly hope they do, but what on earth makes one think
that theology has anything useful to say on the subject? …[T]he achievements of theologians don't do anything, don't affect
anything, don't mean anything. What makes anyone think that "theology"
is a subject at all?
–Richard Dawkins

The first sentence is Dawkins' subjective opinion entirely, and by implying that theology is not a subject in his second sentence, the Professor reasons in a circle. If our definition of subject is the study of an actual phenomena, that theology is not a subject begins with assumptions about the very questions at hand. As someone keenly points out in the thread, even if God is not real, theology can still be reasonably considered a subject – as much a subject as art or creative writing or music.

What do you think?





Another Question For DD

May 8, 2009

I don't know if it's the full moon or last night's aforementioned adult beverages or what, but I simply cannot seem to stop thoughts of logic from forcibly invading my mind today. You implied that it's reasonable to want to be with those we love forever, and I agree, but assuming you accept stock claims of theism's irrationality, have you thought of the disadvantage this puts you at?

If loving others is at least a partial motivation for theism, are not the subset of theists who share said motivation at least partially sustained by a rational and reasonable proposition?





A Sustainable Conclusion?

I honestly believe that 99% of however many people actually read my posts are going to laugh aloud and dismiss this to the absurd quantity of beer topped off with a Jameson and coke that violated a cardinal rule last night, but if theism is irrational – what says the rationalist of denying the irrational?

Atheism must be irrational if its aforementioned premise is true! I know that sounds preposterous, but please give it a chance. I'm being dead serious, and if I'm arguing from some sort of fallacy or misunderstanding, I'll shamelessly swallow it like the aforementioned adult beverages.





The Perfect Analogy For MiracleQuest?

May 7, 2009

So, I'm running a bit late on the next installment of the Atheist Universe series, but I happened to have an experience this morning that was quite an epiphany. The experience itself was nothing uncommon, grandiose or mystical, and it was something I'm willing to bet most all non-indigenous people experience quite frequently.

The weather is great today, which always makes the 5-mile skate to the warehouse that much more enjoyable. After I'd entered the front door, and as I was walking upstairs, I heard a very loud and unmistakable THUD coming from an adjacent room. Always naturally curious, I wondered what may have caused this noise, and no sooner than I'd finished wondering, the epiphany came on with such strong force that I subsequently wondered if somebody had slipped me a hit of ecstasy or something.

Can we deduce the specific attributes of a rock lobbed into a pond based solely on the ripples produced? Similarly, seeking to affirm or deny acts of supernatural beings puts one on the same epistemologically untenable level as seeking to affirm or deny the specific cause of the THUD one hears in an adjacent room.





A Huge And Hitherto Undiscovered Cretacious Beast, Part II

May 2, 2009

A few weeks back, commenter Mike aka MonolithTMA said that God always fell on the losing side of Ockham's Razor. I immediately wondered: If that's true, then why did
religion precede science? 

I'd say that overall, whether true or false, God fell on the winning side of Ockham's
Razor. The simplest explanation is the best explanation, and the simplest explanation was God; that's why it came first. That's why religion and religious explanations of things
preceded science and scientific explanations – and note I do not believe the two are mutually exclusive – I'm not suggesting that religion is right and science is wrong.

What do you think?





A Problem Of Evil: Did I Violate Omni-Benevolence?

April 19, 2009

I’m one of those people who thinks the Problem of Evil is far from solved. I know, I know… the audacity, right? Skeptics and atheists claim the Problem of Evil logically disqualifies certain definitions of God, specifically the Omni^3 God typically advanced by Judeo-Christian monotheists. I concede that this polemic has been commonly repeated in philosophy circles for over 2,000 years now, but is it true? I cannot consider the Problem of Evil any problem at all sans a reasonable explanation of when and why the allowance of suffering constitutes a genuine breach of omni-benevolence, and I maintain that the burden falls back to the skeptic to demonstrate how or why this is so. Earlier this week, a real-life scenario recalled this question to mind.

I sometimes work in a publishing warehouse where customers can ring a doorbell to signify their presence at the Western entrance. Late one evening this week, somebody rang the bell. I opened up the window and stuck my head outside, where I saw a man and a woman with a baby. I knew instantly that they weren’t our customers, and I made the reasonable presupposition they were here to see a tenant in the residential part of the building. So, being in “work-mode,” I initially ignored them and was about to go “back to work” when the human factor kicked in. Just because they weren’t our customers didn’t mean they didn’t need help, so I returned to the window. My next intuition was to immediately engage them, but that curiously gave way to a competing intuition suggesting I merely observe for a moment, remaining watchful to ensure they got whatever it was they needed, but still granting enough confidence in their independence to assume they can solve their own problems without my meddling. A brief moment passed.

I noticed the Bay cold along with their momentary uncertainty was causing the woman to suffer. The cold itself had been causing me to suffer all day long, and I was certain where I was – inside the warehouse with a hooded sweatshirt on! No sooner than I could ask myself another question or respond to another intuition, a tenant let them inside of the building, and they were once again happy and warm.

Although it’s certainly nice that this story has a happy ending, did I violate the principle of omni-benevolence in that brief moment of observance?

*See Also:

PE/QS vs. O^3 God, I

What Do You Mean By God?





The Instinctive Off-Switch

March 25, 2009

Today I overheard somebody make a statement that really caught my attention and got me thinking. The topic of discussion was Oscar Wilde's book De Profundis, in which Wilde talks about his views on many things, including art, Christ, and art and Christ, which was particularly interesting but a different story altogether. In response, a person whom we'll call J, said, "I was brought up Catholic so I have developed this instinctive off-switch that flips as soon as I feel God is unnecessarily being drilled into my head."

I didn’t get the impression that Wilde was unnecessarily drilling God in anyone’s head. Rather, he seemed to be speculating on alternative interpretations of God. Correct me if I'm wrong, but Wilde hints in the book that he gives little credence to the God of Catholics and Christians. It seemed to me that the instinctive off-switch flipped in error, at the mere recognition of language that provided cerebral cues as to the subject matter. These cues may or may not have been interpreted correctly, and I couldn't help but wonder how often logic gets obscured by this psychological tendency.

It cuts both ways. Many believers have an instinctive off-switch which flips as soon as anybody presents an objection to their beliefs. Evolution is perhaps the penultimate example. At the end of the day, whether in the head of an atheist, a believer, you, me or the guy at the 7-11 down the street, instinctive off-switches always hinder critical thinking to some degree. We would do well to identify and uproot them.

How about you? Do you have any instinctive off-switches?





Public Challenge To Rationalists: On What Evidence Might We Rest?

March 20, 2009

First let me be clear: I consider myself a rational person, and the point of this post is not to denigrate rationalism or rationalists. The value of rationalism as a truth-filter and its tremendous impact on modern society cannot be overstated. When appropriately applied, the philosophy of rationalism leads to or complies with all sorts of tried-and-true concepts: The presumption of innocence sans proof of guilt, the scientific method, the burden of proof, etc. All of these things are sound derivatives of an evidence-based epistemology and by no means do I intend to challenge them.

Yet, any idea can descend into dogma, and no philosophy is good when our application of it encourages rigidity. Consequently, I've noticed I don't always agree with the scope and popular interpretations of rationalism that have ascended to the apex of today's epistemological food chain. In my opinion, they lend themselves all too well to dogmatic thinking and provide the perfect cover for those who unconsciously make the converse mistake of the gullible.

Going further, I often wonder if contemporary interpretations of rationalism entail an irrecoverable contradiction, and therein lies the topic of the post: Contemporary rationalism tells us to assume all claims without evidence are false, yet there's no evidence to support the claim that all claims without evidence are false, so on what evidence might we rest?

**Note: This is not an argument, conclusion or suggestion that all claims are equally credible, either, so don't start flanking me from that direction.





Public Challenge To Atheists: Why Believe In What Can Only Prove False?

March 8, 2009

Every now and again I meditate on the fact that the atheist / naturalist / materialist position cannot be empirically vindicated. By atheist / naturalist / materialist position, I mean the Epicurean idea that death entails the complete and final cessation of consciousness – that after we die, there will be no more thought, no more experience, no more anything.

One of the many disadvantages of this world view is that no other option can potentially befall it other than falsification. That is to say, even if this position is correct, we can never prove it, for how could we ever be conscious of the cessation of consciousness to prove that such was indeed the case? You need consciousness to prove anything, and indeed, the atheist / naturalist / materialist position cannot be empirically vindicated. It can only prove false, because if even one iota of consciousness continues in any form after death, the idea is effectively bunk.

And so the challenge is for any atheist, naturalist or materialist to satiate my curiosity by reasonably or at least politely answering the following questions: Why believe in an idea whose only possible empirical verification is disproof? What of the hypocrisy in committing yourself to a position that claims to rely on proof as the highest measure of truth when the position itself cannot possibly be proven?

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