About Bob Seidensticker

I'm an atheist, and I like to discuss Christian apologetics.

Guest Post: Silent No Longer Over the Evils of Catholicism

This is a guest post by Richard S. Russell. Richard is a retired research analyst (Wisconsin Department of Public Instruction) and long-time activist in the realms of atheism, science fiction, and liberal politics. He has more opinions than any ten people should legally be allowed to have but makes up for it by giving them away as fast as possible. He blogs irregularly at richardsrussell.blogspot.com.

moral errors of catholic church

The recent news stories about sexual predators like Roger Ailes, Bill O’Reilly, and Harvey Weinstein have given rise to widespread puzzlement over how so many people who knew what was going on could have remained silent about it for so long.

Silence in the face of wrongdoing is hardly a new phenomenon. Jews refer to the “silence of the world” as the Nazis launched their genocidal death camps. (Martin Niemöller famously wrote about how he “did not speak out” as one group after another was targeted for oblivion.) The gay-rights group ACT UP likewise pointed out that “silence = death” in the 1980s, and Audre Lorde affirmed that Your Silence Will Not Protect You, as it had not protected black people or women.

It is well past time to break a similar silence by calling a spade a spade in an area where few dare to tread: the Roman Catholic Church, with its centuries-long record of being a force for bad, is one of the most evil institutions on Earth!

But let’s not dwell on the past, with its multiple Crusades, centuries-long Inquisition, pogroms, literal witch hunts, torching of astronomers as part of its general anti-intellectualism, the Reichskonkordat that enabled Nazi Germany to pursue its atrocities with zero moral outrage from Rome, and so on. What have you done to us lately?

Well, like the chronic drunk who used to get blotto, start fights, and bust up the bar, only to be hauled off to the slammer, the Catholic Church has learned not to be so blatant in its irresponsibility. Instead, it goes home and more surreptitiously (and safely) takes out its frustrated machismo on the wife and kids. Especially the kids.

The priesthood’s rampant pederasty and its subsequent coverup by church hierarchy got all the headlines in the United States and was the subject of the Oscar-winning 2015 film Spotlight. More recently similar abuses have come to light in Australia.

But abuses caused by Catholicism’s perfervid obsession with human sexuality don’t stop there. There’s the enforced peonage of unwed mothers in Ireland, rampant AIDS in Africa because of Catholicism’s irrational and irresponsible opposition to condoms, and the pervasive squalor and misery of the poverty-stricken barrios and favelas in Latin America due to gross overpopulation.

Money, misery, and misogyny also loom large in the Catholic scale of values, with baby sales in Spain, money laundering via the Vatican Bank, fawning adulation of Mother Teresa for her contemptible advocacy of poverty and suffering as the surest path to their imaginary paradise, and general denigration of women as not fully human.

And, with particular irony, the Catholic Church’s official position on the active role of Satan in worldly affairs makes it America’s foremost proponent of Satanism, the better to strike fear into the hearts of its gullible followers. (As Eric Hoffer remarked in The True Believer, “Mass movements can rise and spread without belief in a God, but never without belief in a devil.”)

Of the two great evil, corrupt, greedy, misogynistic, authoritarian, dehumanizing organizations that have spread their tentacles from Italy over the rest of civilization, why is it that only the less pernicious one, the Mafia, has the bad reputation?

This is not a rhetorical question, nor is the comparison inappropriate. The Mafia engages in things like protection rackets, promising to keep small merchants safe from imaginary dangers if they just shell out the weekly pizzo to the local goomba. For this the mafiosi are subject to prosecution in the U.S. under the RICO (Racketeer Influenced Corrupt Organizations) Act.

But in America, where the First Amendment provides great protection and latitude for religious groups, the Catholic Church can do essentially the same thing just by waving around its “Get Out of Jail Free” card. And the beauty part is that they don’t have to be bothered with occasionally delivering on the threat of disaster, since all of their foreboding consequences happen off stage.

Furthermore, the Catholic Church has a large presence in America, with concomitant political influence. It can get away with abuses here at home that, had they been perpetrated by religious groups like ISIS or Al-Qaeda abroad, would have generated a cacophony of loud, angry voices calling for immediate, violent retribution. Easy enough to talk big and nasty about guys halfway around the world, whom nobody here knows personally, but nobody’s about to advocate bombing Saint Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City.

Now this essay is the sort of “emperor has no clothes” story that regularly brings prompt and indignant accusations of anti-Catholicism from the Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights. And it’s possible that this one will do the same as well. But let’s be clear right up front about the ole switcheroo that the Catholic League regularly tries to pull in these matters. They’ll take legitimate criticism of the church as an institution and try to twist it into seeming like irrational bigotry against individual parishioners as people.

In fairness, it isn’t as if there was never a need for an outfit like this. Anti-Catholicism was once rife in America. It was never as awful as racism, or as widespread as sexism under color of law, or as virulent as anti-Semitism, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a serious problem, perhaps never more so than in the Philadelphia nativist riots of 1844. In fact, so bad was the insistence on Protestant prayer and readings from Protestant Bibles in the public-school classrooms that the Catholic Church felt compelled to start up its own parallel system of parochial schools.

There were economic consequences as well. Throughout the 19th century and well into the 20th, employers posting the chauvinistic caveat “no Irish need apply” seemed on the surface to be engaging in discrimination based “merely” on national origin, but underlying that veneer was a strong streak of religious prejudice, as Poles and Italians likewise discovered (except without the catchy faux-polite slogan).

But that was then, this is now. A series of Supreme Court decisions, from Everson v. Board of Education in 1947 through Wallace v. Jaffree in 1985, effectively required schools, as agents of government, to get out of the religion business (as the First Amendment had theoretically required at least since the Fourteenth Amendment in 1868). And the Civil Rights Act of 1964 explicitly forbade discrimination on the basis of religion or national origin and set up the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission to enforce it.

So authentic complaints that individual Catholics were being discriminated against had largely faded away toward the end of the 20th century. And it’s been getting even better since then. A recent study by the Pew Research Center showed that Catholics are the second most favorably viewed religious group in the US, just a tick below (believe it or not) Jews! (Atheists were well down the scale, just a couple of notches above Muslims.)

So there might well have been some justification for a group like the Catholic League back in 1844. But it was founded in 1973.

Why? Well, like the flag-waving super-patriots who claim to be pro-military but really just favor showering gargantuan amounts of cash on military contractors while screwing the troops, the veterans, and their dependents, so too does the Catholic League serve as a sycophantic apologist for the wealthy and powerful church hierarchy while turning a blind eye to what it’s doing to the common people in the pews.

And nothing fires up its fervor like challenges to parochial schools, whose whole ostensible raison d’être was largely obviated by the now decades-old religious neutrality of the public schools. But parochial schools had demonstrated their worth independently of freedom from discrimination: They had proven to be excellent indoctrination centers. And they’d be even more valuable if they could only gain access to some of those sweet, sweet public-tax dollars, thank you so very much. So: no better way to gain public sympathy and support than to play the victim card, over and over again, as loudly as possible.

Alarmingly, it may be about to get worse. Congress appears poised to repeal the Johnson Amendment, named for then-Senator Lyndon B. Johnson, who insisted that churches, in return for their tax exemptions, had to abstain from politicking. If you think that superPACs are a blight on democracy now, imagine what one would be like if it were being run by an institution which is the very antithesis of democratic—authoritarian and dogmatic from top to bottom!

But, once again, let’s be clear here. My beef is with the corrupt institutional church itself. I’ve got nothing against human beings who happen to be Catholic. Quite the opposite, in fact. They’re not the ones who are running the scam, they’re the dupes, the suckers who fell for it. They’re not the perpetrators, they’re the victims. As such, they deserve our understanding and pity. (Somewhat mitigating that sympathy is that some of them are also enablers, like the owner of that bodega who just quietly pays his baksheesh to the mob and never complains to the cops.)

Most importantly, individual Catholics are witnesses! They are closer to the nefarious doings of the Catholic Church than anyone else, and they are in a unique position to be able to step forward and denounce them. If only they would. If only they were not afraid. If only they were not cowed. If only they were not humbly submissive.

If only they were not silent.

To assert that the earth revolves around the sun is as erroneous
as to claim that Jesus was not born of a virgin.
— Cardinal Bellarmine,
during the trial of Galileo, 1615

Image credit: Friendly Atheist

6 Innovative Rebuttals to the Fine-Tuning Argument

balance

I’ve discussed the role of the multiverse in dismissing the fine-tuning argument here, here, and most recently here. This time, I’d like to look at a few less-well-known arguments.

Replacing “Science doesn’t know” with “God did it!” as this and other Christian apologetic arguments do, is simply renaming the problem. It’s only an attempt to stop the conversation; it doesn’t tell us anything new. It doesn’t answer the question but simply raises new ones: why did God create the universe? How? Which rules of physics were used, and which were broken? And so on.

1. What probability?

This argument is from Counter Arguments. If God is responsible for everything, both probable and improbable, then probability doesn’t exist. Said another way, the idea of independent events unchanged by any intelligence goes away if God is behind everything. And if there’s no probability, then the appeal to probability in the fine-tuning argument becomes impossible, and the argument collapses.

2. Would God be behind un-fine-tuned universes, too?

Imagine a different universe (Universe X) where the parameters didn’t look fine tuned for life, and life was guaranteed. How would the Christian apologist critique it?

If (hypothesis 1) they are consistent and use the same fine-tuning logic, that divine intervention would be necessary if life were very improbable, then (oops!) God was unnecessary to create life in Universe X. But if (hypothesis 2) they use the opposite logic—the more probable life, the more probable divine intervention is—then God must’ve created it in Universe X.

Which do you suppose they would go with—hypothesis 1 that God was unlikely to have created Universe X or hypothesis 2 that God was likely? They’re in the business of rationalizing their conclusion, so they would pick the one that pleases them most, and that’s possible because “God” is so poorly defined. He’s a clay sculpture that they can shape into whatever is called for so that they can continue to justify their beliefs. That’s great if they want to maintain their belief at any cost, but part of that cost is consistency (Source: Counter Arguments)

3. Coarse Tuning

This argument is from the article, “Probabilities and the Fine-Tuning Argument” by McGrew, McGrew, and Vestrup (paywall).

First, start with the fine-tuning argument. We have a handful of physical constants so carefully balanced that if any were tweaked by the tiniest amount, life in the universe would be impossible.

Imagine an n-dimensional space, with one axis for each of the different constants we’re considering. Assume that these constants can (in principle) be anything. There’s a tiny volume in this space within which life is possible, but the total space is infinite in size. What’s the probability that you’d hit the sweet spot by chance? Tiny volume ÷ infinite space = 0, so the probability is zero. And that’s the punch line for this argument: if the likelihood of randomly hitting this life-giving sweet spot is infinitesimally small, there must be a designer.

Now, imagine that the volume is actually very large and that the values that define our universe could be changed in any dimension by ten orders of magnitude, and life would still be possible. This is the coarse-tuning situation. If we’re in the middle of a sweet spot that’s this huge—it’s 10 billion on each side—who would be making the fine-tuning argument now? But the problem remains! That vastly bigger volume ÷ infinite space is still zero. The likelihood of randomly hitting this sweet spot remains infinitesimally small, but we’ve agreed that this is not remarkable. Conclusion: deducing a designer with the fine-tuning argument fails.

Said another way, the fine-tuning argument is no stronger than the coarse-tuning argument. Why then would no apologist make a coarse-tuning argument?

4. Monkey God

Physicist Vic Stenger directly confronted the fine-tuning argument with his Monkey God simulation. He took four constants from which can be computed the average lifetime of a star, the size of planets, and other traits that would predict whether a universe might allow life. His simulation randomly varies these constants within a range five orders of magnitude higher and five lower than their actual values to see what kind of universe the combination creates. His conclusion: “A wide variation of constants of physics has been shown to lead to universes that are long-lived enough for complex matter to evolve.”

We know so little about life that there is little to say about whether life would come from this complex matter, but this seems a strong counterexample.

This reminds me of physicist Sean Carroll’s observation, “I will start granting that [life couldn’t exist with different conditions] once someone tells me the conditions under which life can exist.”

To be concluded in part 2.

A universe with a supernatural presence
would be a fundamentally and qualitatively
different kind of universe from one without.
The difference is, inescapably, a scientific difference.
Religions make existence claims,
and this means scientific claims.
Richard Dawkins

(This is an update of a post that originally appeared 4/30/14.)

Photo credit: Wikimedia

 

William Lane Craig Replies to My Attack on Faith Statements (3 of 3)

goat

William Lane Craig (WLC) has responded to my attack on faith statements (or “doctrinal statements”) in “A Call for Honesty in Christian Scholarship.” Begin with part 1 here.

Let’s conclude our response to WLC.

Bias? That’s not a problem. We’re all biased!

WLC has an interesting response to the problem of bias.

Finally, and most importantly, the allegation of bias is ultimately irrelevant. . . . Every historian approaches a topic with his biases and point of view. . . . As the history is supported by the weight of the evidence, the historian’s personal biases become irrelevant.

This is the “So what if I’m biased? Everyone’s biased!” argument. I guess I’m old-fashioned on this subject, because I’d like to think that bias isn’t binary (you’re biased or you’re not) but is measured on a scale, and we can and should strive to be as unbiased as possible.

The point can be generalized. We all have our biases, including atheists. (If Christian scholars need to attach a disclaimer to their work, so do atheists!)

When I subordinate myself to an unchanging statement, I’ll do just that. Until then, I’m free to reach any conclusion the evidence leads me to, and I only have fear of embarrassment keeping me from changing. No job rides on this. The situation for the professional Christian scholar is quite different.

I agree with WLC on a point

WLC does make one important point, so let me take the opportunity to clarify my position. WLC said:

But our work is to be judged by the soundness of our arguments, not by our biases. So you’ll never find me dismissing the work of an atheist philosopher on the grounds that he is biased, even though it may be blatantly obvious. Rather I seek to expose the fallacy in his reasoning or the false or unjustified premiss in his argument.

So the answer to your question, How do we know if the work of a Christian scholar is to be trusted? is easy: you assess it by the arguments and evidence he offers in support of his conclusions. Ultimately, that’s all that matters.

Yes, it would be an ad hominem fallacy to reject the work out of hand solely because it came from a Christian scholar. “That article came from a Christian scholar bound by a doctrinal statement; therefore, it’s crap” would be an example of this error.

Here’s what I’m saying.

1. Christian institutions do themselves no favors with doctrinal statements because they put a cloud of doubt over their scholars’ work. Signing such a statement binds the scholars to never reach a contrary conclusion on any of its points of dogma. They can never agree with one of those points without our dismissing the work as an inevitable conclusion rather than the result of honest research. It’s a disservice to the scholars, and it’s a disservice to their work.

2. WLC is right that I can analyze the arguments in an article and judge for myself, but this is my only option. I can’t accept or reject the conclusion without that analysis because the doctrinal statement means the author has no inherent reputation.

3. Nonexpert readers will often be unable to do the analysis. Let me illustrate with an example. I recently had lunch with three Christians from the local Reasons to Believe chapter (RTB is an old-earth Creationist group). We were talking about whether Daniel accurately prophesied Jesus (it didn’t). I summarized the evidence that Daniel was written in the 160s BCE. One of my antagonists replied that that was impossible since the Septuagint (the Greek translation of the Old Testament) was written around 300 BCE. How could Daniel have been written in the 160s if it was included in the Septuagint? The answer, which I had to research afterwards to find out, is that only the Pentateuch (the first five books) were included in the original Septuagint.

Expert readers might be able to provide the devil’s advocate challenges to test the work, as WLC suggests, but not all readers are experts. WLC’s response becomes, “So you think that their conclusion is flawed? Prove it!” but that’s an unreasonable burden on the reader and a handicap to the author’s reputation.

4. This option isn’t available beyond a single paper. Take this recent headline as an example: “12 Historical Facts About The Resurrection Of Jesus Most Scholars Agree Upon.” Are these “scholars” bound by doctrinal statements? WLC’s solution would be to just read their work and evaluate it, but that’s not available to us when there’s an appeal to the consensus of an entire discipline as in this case. If these scholars are constrained in their work, this statement about consensus is meaningless.

Academic freedom at a Christian college

WLC brings up Ivy League schools as exemplars but never addresses the elephant in the room: that they don’t use doctrinal statements. Indeed, they are world class institutions in part because they don’t use them. Doctrinal statements are incompatible with free inquiry.

WLC is a professor at Biola’s Talbot School of Theology, and Talbot gets its accreditation from the Association of Theological Schools (ATS). This makes Talbot answerable to the ATS policy guidelines on “Academic Freedom and Tenure.” While this policy accepts doctrinal statements (“specific confessional adherence”), it also demands, “No confessional standard obviates the requirement for responsible liberty of conscience in the Jewish or the Christian community or the practice of the highest ideals of academic freedom.”

It also requires tenure. “The provision for appointment on indefinite tenure is one way in which institutions safeguard their faculties’ freedom to teach, to inquire, and to organize their academic programs.”

Given that this is an accreditation association for theology schools, there are presumably interpretations or loopholes that allow binding doctrinal statements. Nevertheless, this is a lot more respect for academic freedom than WLC seemed interested in defending or even acknowledging.

Conclusion

Freedom to change one’s mind is an essential right in any institution. It’s a foundational concept in the academic freedom that reigns in the Ivy League colleges that WLC himself admires.

WLC’s unhelpful response is to say that it doesn’t bother him that there are constraints. They don’t get in his way. He doesn’t need to change his mind. But if they hobble your life . . . well then it sucks to be you.

I can perhaps see WLC’s position. He is part of a church in which a perfect God made a clear statement of his unchanging rules that unaccountably is so ambiguous that new Christian denominations are splintering off at a rate of two per day. The doctrinal statement could be his finger in the dike, though that’s a futile gesture when he wants to simultaneously carve out a safe space for Christian thought while polishing Christianity’s image as a field able to hold its own in the marketplace of ideas.

He can’t have both.

The Bible:
The Goatherder’s Guide to the Universe
Seth Andrews

 Image credit: Greger Ravik, flickr, CC

 

William Lane Craig Replies to My Attack on Faith Statements (2 of 3)

silly person

William Lane Craig (WLC) has responded to my attack on faith statements (or “doctrinal statements”) in “A Call for Honesty in Christian Scholarship.” See part 1 for WLC’s claim that they help create community.

Let’s continue with more of WLC’s concerns.

Cause and effect

WLC moves on to misunderstand the problem. He says that a doctrinal statement doesn’t determine a scholar’s views; rather, scholars will have formed their views beforehand and only then seek an institution that fits with their views.

That’s correct, as far as it goes. When you join, the doctrinal statement fits you like a just-right sweater since you picked an institution that shared your views. The problem comes when you change, and the sweater then becomes a straightjacket.

WLC is confident that this won’t be a problem—for him, at least:

Thus, it is naïve on your part to imagine that [Houston Baptist University’s] doctrinal statement, for example, imposes some sort of restraint upon me with respect to belief in the virgin birth or the deity of Christ or the resurrection of Jesus. I held these beliefs long before affiliating with HBU, and I would believe them no matter where I taught.

Craig tells us that if he hasn’t felt constrained by a doctrinal statement, then it’s all good.

But he isn’t completely clueless, and he can imagine the problem—though his solution is rather harsh.

It can happen that one’s doctrinal views can change in the course of one’s career, with the result that one can no longer sign the doctrinal statement in good faith. In that case, the professor should seek employment elsewhere.

Oh, so it’s as easy as that? If you’ve grown so that you can’t accept the outmoded doctrinal statement, just quit.

This gets back to the original problem. Sure, you can quit your job. Maybe you’ll lose your tenure or even your career, depending on how far your views have changed. But you might have other obligations than that to the university. Can you quit if there’s a family to feed? Or do you convince yourself to muddle through by not thinking about the problem much?

We can humanize this issue by moving from an abstract hypothetical to the concrete problems of hundreds of actual Christian clergy with failing faith by looking at the Clergy Project. Some of these clergy members have walked away from their careers in the church as atheists, while others keep their head down as long as they can, preferring an uncomfortable present to an unknown future.

WLC seems to appreciate the problem, but Christian compassion isn’t where he goes for an answer:

The danger is that because such a move can be so gut-wrenching, the professor may be tempted to continue in his present position, even though he no longer believes the doctrinal statement. In that case, he compromises his own integrity and the integrity of the institution. If the institution does not take the difficult step of dismissing him, the seed of corruption is planted which may derail the institution in coming generations.

In other words, it’s the scholar’s fault that the straightjacket is too tight. I’m sure that’s comforting.

And “the seed of corruption”? Really? Christian scholars’ views are so uncompromising that they can’t tolerate any challenges?

People change. Doctrinal statements are too brittle to accept this, but this is the fault of the institutions that demand them, not that of the people.

Consequences of a doctrinal statement

It is false, then, as you allege, that by signing a doctrinal statement [that includes the claim that Jesus was born of a virgin], “a professor has publicly stated, ‘I promise to never conclude that the virgin birth was just a myth’.” He has made no such promise.

He has. Your point is simply that he can break his promise. Yes, he can, but the original point stands: we can’t treat his conclusions at his Christian college as useful new information when he was bound to reach them. (I clarify this statement in part 3 below.)

You say that he can just quit? Sure, but why have this cumbersome and punitive policy? Harvard isn’t bothered by what its scholars conclude. What does it say that Harvard’s view of academic freedom wouldn’t tolerate doctrinal statements?

Mike Licona’s crime

In my original post, I discussed one cautionary tale: “Might the scholar simply have come to an unbiased conclusion? That’s possible, but how would we know? Mike Licona is a Christian scholar who found out the hard way that faith statements have teeth. In 2011, he lost two jobs because, in a 700-page book, he questioned the inerrancy of a single Bible verse.” WLC responded:

The case of Mike Licona is a good example. Licona has never denied biblical inerrancy, nor was he fired because of it.

The point about Licona is that he’s an example of someone who ran afoul of a doctrinal statement and lost his job. I don’t want to split hairs over the theological validity of the charges against him, but let me respond to the two points WLC made.

In one of his public attacks on Licona at the time, Norm Geisler wrote an article titled, “Mike Licona on Inerrancy: It’s Worse than We Originally Thought.” You’re free to disagree with Geisler’s conclusion, but, yeah, it’s about inerrancy.

And I didn’t say that Licona was fired from his jobs, just that he lost them.

WLC’s point was to vaguely defend Licona against the charges and note that he’s still “a member in good standing of the Evangelical Theological Society.” That’s nice, but it still turned the guy’s life upside down. Can he still want to ignore the collateral damage of faith statements?

I agree with WLC on one important point in the conclusion in part 3. 

All those who persistently reject Jesus Christ in the present life
shall be raised from the dead and throughout eternity
exist in the state of conscious, unutterable, endless torment of anguish.
— Biola doctrinal statement that WLC has signed

Image credit: Kimberly Vardeman, flickr, CC

Physicist Sean Carroll Dismisses Fine Tuning Argument

This is the conclusion of a summary of the 2014 debate between philosopher William Lane Craig and cosmologist Sean Carroll. In part 1, I summarized Carroll’s response to the Kalam cosmological argument. Here, it’s a response to the other half of Craig’s argument, the fine tuning argument.

Carroll began with a compliment of sorts.

This is the best argument that the theists have when it comes to cosmology. That’s because it plays by the rules. You have phenomena, you have parameters of particle physics and cosmology, and then you have two different models, theism and naturalism, and you want to compare which model is the best fit for the data. I applaud that general approach. Given that, it is still a terrible argument. It is not at all convincing.

 1. What fine-tuning problem?

Carroll raises five points. First, he’s not convinced that there is a fine-tuning problem. Yes, changes in the parameters that define our reality would change conditions, but it does not follow that life could not exist. “I will start granting that [life couldn’t exist with different conditions] once someone tells me the conditions under which life can exist.” We don’t even fully understand life on this planet, nor do we understand it on the other planets in the universe that hold life (if any), nor do we understand it within the other possible universes (if any).

For example, is life just information processing? That raises lots of possibilities for life. “They sound very science fiction-y,” Carroll admits, “but then again, you’re the one who’s changing the parameters of the universe.”

Biologists are continually playing catch-up when studying the diversity of life. They rarely predict a novel place for life to exist and then go find it there; instead it’s “Wow! We just found complex, multicellular life in undersea thermal vents!” (or glaciers, or deep mines, or ponds full of saline or superhot or radioactive water).

2. Don’t limit God

God can do anything, and he isn’t limited by the parameters of the universe. If life were impossible naturally, God could make it happen anyway. Carroll says about theism, “No matter what the atoms were doing, God could still create life.” That means that apparent fine tuning points to naturalism, since it must do everything naturally and can’t fallback on magic. If you insist that the parameters must be just so, then you’re arguing for naturalism.

Physicist Vic Stenger made the point this way in The Fallacy of Fine-Tuning:

Certainly an all-powerful creator could have made a universe delicately balanced to produce life. But he also could have made life exist in any kind of universe whatsoever, with no delicate balancing act necessary. So if the universe is, in fact, fine-tuned to support life, it is more—not less—likely to have had a natural origin. (p. 115)

3. Illusory fine tuning

Some apparent fine tuning vanishes on closer inspection. The expansion rate of the early universe is often cited as one example of fine tuning. In fact, Stephen Hawking in his A Brief History of Time says that it was tuned to 10–17, to the delight of apologists. What they avoid quoting is Hawking just a few pages later:

The rate of expansion of the universe [in the inflationary model] would automatically become very close to the critical rate determined by the energy density of the universe. This could then explain why the rate of expansion is still so close to the critical rate, without having to assume that the initial rate of expansion of the universe was very carefully chosen.

Carroll makes the same point when he says that the apparent fine tuning vanishes when you look to general relativity. The probability of the universe expanding as it did wasn’t 10–17; it was 1.

4. Multiverse

Apologist Richard Swinburne isn’t on board with the multiverse. He says, “To postulate a trillion trillion other universes, rather than one God in order to explain the orderliness of our universe, seems the height of irrationality.”

He doesn’t acknowledge that we have no supernatural precedents by which to evaluate the probability of his god proposal. He doesn’t seem to know that the number of other universes isn’t the point—there are an infinite number of integers, for example, but bringing integers into a discussion isn’t infinitely complicating. He doesn’t admit that the multiverse is a prediction of well-established science (cosmic inflation). He ignores that there isn’t just one proton, one star, or one black hole—there are enormous numbers of each—so why insist that there must be only one universe?

Carroll disagrees that the multiverse is extravagant: “It’s a prediction of a simple physical model.” The multiverse hypothesis can make testable predictions. He showed a graph of the density of dark matter in the universe as an example. “You do not see graphs like this in the theological papers trying to give God credit for explaining the fine tuning because theism is not well defined.”

5. Theism isn’t the default

Even if you reject naturalism as an explanation, you can’t fall back on theism. To be taken seriously, apologists must come up with a model of a universe that one would expect with theism and then compare it to the data to see if it fits. So, what would you expect a theistic universe to look like, specifically?

Theism would predict a just-right tuning of parameters, while we find that the entropy of the early universe (to take one example) was far, far lower than it needed to be for life. Theism would predict far less matter than the 100 billion galaxies (each with 100 billion stars) in our universe. Theism would predict that life would be important to the universe; naturalism says that it’s insignificant. Theism demands that we look at the Hubble Deep Field image of thousands of ancient and incredibly distant galaxies and conclude, “This is all here because of us!”

Over and over, the data shows a universe that matches the predictions of naturalism and not theism.

Which worldview predicts best?

He went on to contrast the predictive success of theism vs. naturalism.

  • Theism predicts that God’s existence would be obvious (in fact, the evidence is poor, and faith is not only required but celebrated)
  • Theism predicts that religious belief should be universal; there should be just a single, correct religion (in fact, we have thousands of denominations within just Christianity, plus many thousand more other religions)
  • Theism predicts that religious doctrines would be permanent (in fact, they evolve and adapt to social conditions)
  • Theism predicts that moral teachings would be transcendent and progressive (in fact, Western society rejected slavery and embraced civil rights in spite of Christianity, not because of it)
  • Theism predicts that sacred texts would provide practical advice like how to stay healthy
  • Theism predicts that life is designed (in fact, evolution explains life’s Rube Goldberg features)
  • Theism predicts a mind independent of the body (in fact, “mind” changes as the brain grows or is damaged, or even if one is tired or hungry)
  • Theism predicts a fundamentally just world without gratuitous evil (in fact, the Problem of Evil is often cited as Christianity’s toughest challenge)

Carroll is quick to agree that, yes, the theist can whip up reasons to explain away any of these problems. It’s not hard because theism is not well defined and can be reshaped as necessary, like clay. Ad hoc justifications are easy to come up with, but no, that’s not a good thing.

Contrast that with science—when new data causes problems for a theory, science looks for a new theory. And that is a good thing.

The reason why science and religion
are actually incompatible is that, in the real world,
they reach incompatible conclusions.
— Sean Carroll

(This is an update of a post that originally appeared 4/28/14.)

Image credit: Terry Robinson, flickr, CC

 

When Christianity Hits Reality: the William Lane Craig vs. Sean Carroll Debate

During the 1995 O.J. Simpson murder trial, talk show host Dick Cavett mused about bumping into Simpson at a cocktail party. In such a situation, he anticipated that he would say, “Well, there are so many people here who haven’t murdered anyone, I think I’ll go talk to them.”

And that’s my reaction to hearing philosopher William Lane Craig blather on about his opinions on cosmology (read: how he’s picked facts to support his conclusion). When I’m curious about the origin of the universe, I think I’ll go talk to the cosmologists.

William Lane Craig, cosmologist. Or not.

In the first place, Craig isn’t an expert on the topic. For this 2/21/14 debate, the topic was, “The existence of God in light of contemporary cosmology.” In the second place, experts are readily at hand—for example, his opponent, Sean Carroll, who earned a doctorate in Astronomy and Astrophysics from Harvard and is currently a professor at CalTech.

Craig has made clear where his truth comes from. He states in Reasonable Faith (2008):

Should a conflict arise between the witness of the Holy Spirit to the fundamental truth of the Christian faith and beliefs based on argument and evidence, then it is the former which must take precedence over the latter, not vice versa. (p. 48)

See what I mean about picking his facts to support his conclusion? Perhaps that also explains his unwarranted confidence in getting into the ring with someone who is actually an expert on the topic.

There’s not much to say about Craig’s 20-minute opening to those familiar with his arguments. He used two of his favorites, the Kalam cosmological argument and the fine tuning argument. One surprise was that his arguments were more remote than usual. The average Christian may have difficulty with terms like entropy, singularity, and arrow of time. Here, Craig also used, without definition, the terms cosmogonic, de Sitter space, “unitarity of quantum theory,” and Boltzmann brains.

However, I was pleased that he avoided my usual complaint, which is his using “just think about it” to introduce some bit of pop philosophy. Yes, common sense is tempting, but it’s not the final arbiter at the frontier of science. Maybe he knew that this kind of argument would be laughed down by an expert. If so, let’s remember that next time he uses such an argument when Sean Carroll isn’t around to laugh at him.

Sean Carroll’s response

Carroll began by making clear that this debate is not an ongoing one within the cosmology community. You’ll hear theories of origins debated at cosmology conferences, but there is no discussion of God as a plausible explanation.

He responded to Craig’s Kalam argument by attacking point 2, “the universe began to exist.” He noted that Craig gave no evidence to back up the claim and, indeed, there isn’t any.

The bigger problem is that the point isn’t even false since Craig doesn’t use the right vocabulary for discussing cosmology. Carroll said, “Aristotelian analysis of causation was cutting edge stuff 2500 years ago; today we know better.” Referring back to his opening point, he noted that you don’t find the words “transcendent cause” in a cosmology textbook; what you find are differential equations! There simply is no need for metaphysical baggage on top of the known physics—it is unnecessary baggage that adds nothing.

Borde Guth Vilenkin

The idea of a beginning to the universe suits Craig. He’s concerned about the naturalist who says that, even if the Big Bang were the beginning of our universe, it could have come from an eternal multiverse. To anticipate this, Craig invariably brings up the Borde-Guth-Vilenkin theorem (BGV), which says that the multiverse did have a beginning.

Carroll responded by ticking off variant universes. A universe with a beginning but no cause? There’s a model for that. A universe that is eternal without a beginning? There’s a model for that, too—indeed, there are at least 17 plausible models.

BGV points to a beginning to the universe, but it starts with assumptions. Discard those assumptions, and the rules are different and eternality is possible. What BGV says is simply that our ability to describe the universe classically, that is, without quantum mechanics, gives out. Craig is simply wrong when he insists that BGV proves a beginning to everything.

Potpourri

It was a pleasure to see a competent physicist dismantle Craig’s uninformed cosmological dabblings. Craig cited the Second Law of Thermodynamics to support a finite universe, and Carroll responded that he’d written an entire book on the subject. About the puzzle of why the universe began with low entropy, Carroll said, “To imagine that cosmologists cannot answer that question without somehow invoking God is a classic God-of-the-gaps move. I know that Dr. Craig says that that’s not what he’s doing, but then he does it.”

About Craig’s criticism of Carroll’s own cosmological model, Carroll responded, “[Dr. Craig] says that my model is not working very well because it violates unitarity, the conservation of information, and that is straightforwardly false.” He then pointed out how Craig took a Hawking quote “completely out of context.”

I appreciated Carroll’s polite but direct approach. (I’ve written more about Carroll’s insights here and here.)

Cosmology vs. Theism

Carroll pointed out that a major problem is the very definition of theism. One theist may give a thorough definition, but then dozens (or thousands) more will give competing definitions. More to the point, theism is not a serious cosmological model. Cosmology is a mature science, and models are expected to address real issues. For example: What is the predicted spatial curvature of this universe? What is the amplitude of density perturbations? What causes the matter/antimatter asymmetry? What is the dark matter? And so on.

Theism doesn’t even try. It has nothing to offer.

Some things happen for “reasons” and some don’t, 
and you don’t get to demand 
that this or that thing must have a reason. 
Some things just are. 
Claims to the contrary are merely assertions,
and we are as free to ignore them 

as you are to assert them.
— Sean Carroll

(This is an update of a post that originally appeared 04/25/14.)

Photo credit: brett jordan, flickr, CC