Showing posts with label theism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label theism. Show all posts

Saturday, October 1, 2022

Neither theism nor atheism

Sometimes we don't believe in God, but we believe in certain other people, and because those people believe in God, we believe in God too in a kind of proxy way.

'He can see things — strange things.' Shelly leaned close to me and whispered, 'Rosa tells me that Benni can see a little bit of God's hidden life.'

'Does God have a hidden life?' I asked.

Shelly snorted. 'George, where is your head? Everything that lives has a hidden life!'

'But you told me once you don't believe in God.'

'That's true. But I believe in Rosa!'

'So what does Rosa think that God does in his hidden life?' I asked.

'I have no idea,' he said with a shrug.

— Richard Zimler. The Incandescent Threads. Parthian, 2022.

book cover for THE INCANDESCENT THREADS

"Jewish tradition calls this reality God, but that word is so heavy with question and misconception that I have mostly avoided using it. I am far more concerned about the nature of the encounter than I am about the term we use for its referent."

— Eugene B. Borowitz. Renewing the Covenant: A Theology for the Postmodern Jew. (1991) Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1996. p. 114.


"An agnostic?" Barbara asked. "Isn't that someone who doesn't believe God can be understood?"

"Almost," said Bloomer. "What I think Ira's saying is that he's not even sure enough to be sure he can't know something. Ergo, he's not an agnostic."

— John R. Maxim. Platforms. New York: Avon Books, 2002.


On Pascal's Wager

I hadn't known until I saw this writeup from @friendlyatheist.com that Scott Adams announced a very transactional deathbed conversion to Christianity, which I find fascinating because it makes very clear what's wrong with Pascal's Wager *theologically*. www.friendlyatheist.com/p/scott-adam...

[image or embed]

— Julian Sanchez (@normative.bsky.social) January 14, 2026 at 7:39 PM

Sunday, February 27, 2022

In 'Middle Passage', a Slave Trader Battles the Idea of Truth

Ship by Iván Tamás from Pixabay

Charles Johnson's novel Middle Passage won the 1990 National Book Award. It is the story of a man named Rutherford Calhoun who flees his debts in New Orleans and embarks on a slave ship.

Calhoun is under the employ of Captain Ebenezer Falcon, a white man who has been a temple-robber in Africa and Asia and is currently a slave trader, one who introduces himself to his new sailor by saying “I don’t like Negroes.” A physical description of Falcon:

“between this knot of monstrously developed deltoids and latissimus doors a long head rose with an explosion of hair so black his face seemed dead in contrast: eye sockets like anthracite furnaces, medieval lines more complex than tracery on his maps, a nose slightly to one side, and a great bulging forehead that looked harder than whalebone, but intelligent too — a thinker’s brow, it was, the kind fantasy writers put on spacemen far ahead of us in science and philosophy. His belly was unspeakable. His hands, like roots.”

In Chapter 4 ("Entry, the fourth: June 28, 1830"), they have this dialogue. In short, Falcon argues that human beings think in binaries and that (whether by definition or some other inevitability) each of us believes ourselves to be correct. There is no fact of the matter, or at least not one that is accessible to us. We win arguments by force. Power alone determines who is right. We will never unite socially because we will never unite philosophically. The human mind is limited this way. Calhoun understands that Falcon is arguing for racism, and unfortunately Calhoun is unprepared to respond.

“You recall each [Ancillon, de Maistre, Portalis] says war is divine, as much a child of the soul as music and poetry. For a self to act, it must have somethin’ to act on. A nonself — some call this Nature — that resists, thwarts the will, and vetoes the actor. May I proceed? Well, suppose that nonself is another self? What then? As long as each sees a situation differently there will be slaughter and slavery and the subordination of one to another ‘cause two notions of things never exist side by side as equals. Why not — I put it to you — if both are true? Books live together in the library, don’t they, Teresa of Avila beside Aristippus, Bacon beside Berkeley? The reason — the irrefragable truth is each person in his heart believes his beliefs is best. Fact is, down deep no man’s democratic. We’re closet anarchists, I’d wager. Ouk agathón polykoíranín eis koíranos éstos. We believe what we believe. And the final test of truth is war on foreign soil. War in your front yard. War in your bedroom. War in your own heart, if you listen too much to other people. And in each battle ’tis the winning belief what’s true and the conquerer whose vision is veritable.”
“No — nossir!” says I, louder than I intended. “By my heart, sir, if something is true, it can’t be suppressed, can it, regardless of whether all the armies of the world stand ready to silence it?”
“You’re a smart boy. What d’you think? Is truth floating’ round out there in space separate from persons? Now, be frank.”
“No, but—“
“Conflict,” says he, “is what it means to be conscious. Dualism is a bloody structure of the mind. Subject and object, perceiver and perceived, self and other — these ancient twins are built into mind like the stem-piece of a merchantman. We cannot think without them, sir. And what, pray, kin such a thing mean? Only this, Mr. Calhoun: They are the signs of a transcendental Fault, a deep crack in consciousness itself. Mind was made for murder. Slavery, if you think this through, forcing yourself not to flinch, is the social correlate of a deeper, ontic wound.”

Later, in Chapter 5 ("Entry, the fifth: June 30, 1830"), Falcon tells Calhoun about his interpretation of the religious beliefs of the Allmuseri, a fictional West African tribe.

"Being unphysical means there can only be one of each kind of god or angel — one Throne, one Principality, one Archangel, ‘cause there’s only a formal (not a material) difference amongst ‘em, so the one below is the only creature of its kind in the universe — is the universe, the Allmuseri say...Another thing ‘bout not been’ physical most of the time is that it can’t understand any of the sciences based on matter, like geometry.”

Such a god has limitations and contradictions. Falcon continues: “For example, a god can’t know its own nature. For itself, it can’t be an object of knowledge. D’you see the logic here? The Allmuseri god is everything, so the very knowing situation we mortals rely on — a separation between knower and known — never rises in its experience.” So, too: “Omnipotence means, ironically, that it can create a stone so heavy it cannot lift that same stone from the floor.”

In the story, Falcon does battle with the god of the Allmuseri in a literal, physical way, which is narratively surprising but philosophically unsurprising in retrospect.


If you'd like to learn more about my work, I've published books. Also, I write for Medium. There, readers with a paid membership don't have to worry about the paywall.

Tuesday, January 4, 2022

God Doesn't Believe in Atheists, and I Don't Believe in God

An enormous ghostly foot steps on a field.
Image by KELLEPICS on Pixabay.

On Nov 14, 2025, I moved this essay to Medium. It's a 5-minute read.

But you can still read the background here...

I listened to the 1-hour audiocassette lecture in 2011. Since it had the same title as the 650-page book, I treated the abridged audio as an alternate version of the book, and I posted my comments about it to Goodreads under this book title. I didn't leave the book a starred rating, so as not to affect its collective starred rating, and I did specify I was responding to the abridged audio and not to the full print version. This generated a few negative comments from people who were mad at me for — in their view — reviewing a book that I admitted to not having read.

I disagree with this characterization of the book and of my activity. Audiobooks are books; abridged books are books; abridged audiobooks are books. If a one-hour recorded lecture is not meant to be considered a valid version of the longer print book, then the author or publisher should not give them the same title, as that causes confusion, the responsibility for which falls on them. Finally, I don't believe there is a One True Answer for how people ought to use the Goodreads website; it's social media, and we make it up as we go along. Goodreads may have hoped people would use their website in a particular way, but people who use the site may come up with creative interpretations and we are not necessarily wrong when we do so.

Nonetheless, I no longer wish to receive sporadic comments questioning the validity of why I posted comments about an abridged audio on the product webpage of the longer book ten years ago. I mean, the planet is burning, can we worry about bigger things please. But also, to the extent that I allow myself to be trolled, I admit to being peeved that I have logged over 1750 full-length books that I've read and yet internet strangers are repeatedly needling me about my intellectual capacities because of the single instance of an abridged audiobook among them. (Never mind that I, not they, am the one who bothered to engage the author's argument.) From their perspective, it makes sense that they comment on this post, since it is the post that they saw; but from my perspective, I wonder why this post is high-engagement and rarely does anyone interact with my other 1750 posts. It is a headscratcher. Thus, I have moved the old essay from Goodreads to this webpage. I have rephrased and reformatted the essay for clarity.

May I also add that it is common for people to complain that an online comment is not the correct lengthit needs to be shorter to hold their attention, or it needs to be longer for me to prove my intellectual capacity to them upon their demand. That's in the same bucket with people who claim I should not have posted the essay in an internet field labeled "review" because my essay is, for one reason or another, not a proper "review." Or, if the field is labeled "comment," I shouldn't write a full-fledged review, but rather a shorter "comment," because that would be the proper use of the field. People have assumptions about the "proper" use of fields on the internet. (It's almost as if the proper use of the internet were ordained by God.) When they cannot or will not engage with the substance of what I wrote, they sometimes pick an argument with my choice of website, or my choice of labeled field on that website, or the length of what I wrote. But actually, that's not their concern. The reason they criticize the way I wrote what I wrote (be it essay, review, comment, or what have you) is that they don't agree with my point at all and they would like me to stop making it. Until they provide a counterargument, of course, I'm left with my own argument. Thus, my argument here has not changed since 2011, as no one has yet bothered to rebut it.


If you'd like to learn more about my work, I've published books. Also, I write for Medium. There, readers with a paid membership don't have to worry about the paywall.

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

The flaws in the 'New Cosmological Argument'

Richard M. Gale and Alexander R. Pruss’s paper “A New Cosmological Argument,” published in Cambridge University’s Religious Studies journal in 1999, sought to prove the existence of God. It failed to seal the lid on this question.

The first seven premises of the argument discuss whether the world needs an explanation. The rest asks what sort of God could explain the world. If the first part of the argument is found to be fallacious, then it will be unnecessary to argue about what kind of God there isn’t. Therefore, this deconstruction will only analyze the first part of the argument.

The principle of sufficient reason

This new cosmological argument hangs on the Principle of Sufficient Reason. A “strong” version of this principle (S-PSR) holds that every proposition (meaning everything there is) has an explanation. Many are disinclined to make this assumption, so the authors propose a supposedly more palatable “weak” version. The Weak Principle of Sufficient Reason (W-PSR) insists on the mere possibility of any given proposition having an explanation. If a particular fact is found not to have an explanation in this world (the “actual world”), one is only bound to acknowledge that there is some “possible world” out there in which the same fact has an explanation.

Gale and Pruss write that atheists would be “unreasonable” not to grant this allegedly “weak” hypothesis. They are wrong. The hypothesis is imperialist in its scope, and many of its bones can be picked. To list a few of them briefly: the world is probably not equivalent with descriptions of it, facts change over time, and some propositions are probabilities, not certainties. What, for that matter, does it even mean for a proposition to have an “explanation”? Must an explanation be a scientific cause, or can it be a subjective interpretation, as when someone “explains” a poem?

Let the reader temporarily accept, nonetheless – for the sake of argument – W-PSR. This is not because the reader should be bullied into fearing oneself an unreasonable atheist for failing to swallow this hypothesis, but because it needs to be provisionally accepted before the reader can turn the page.

Necessary and contingent facts

The next concept the reader must accept is the distinction between “necessary” and “contingent” facts. This is a standard concept in philosophy. Some people find it intuitive, while others believe it is an invalid distinction. Regardless, understanding what is meant by this concept is essential to understanding Gale and Pruss’s argument.

Their argument refers to the “Big Conjunctive Fact,” defined as all the facts that make up a given world. A sub-set of this enormous, amalgamated fact is the “Big Conjunctive Contingent Fact,” which includes all the contingent facts and none of the necessary facts. This sub-set consists of all the facts that make a given world unique.

What kind of proposition needs an explanation?

The big problem with Gale and Pruss’s argument is its inconsistent use of the symbol “p”, which stands for a given proposition. Their Premise 4 begins, “If p is in the actual world’s Big Conjunctive Contingent Fact, then...” and concludes that it’s possible that p could have an explanation (according to W-PSR). Yet their Premise 2 says that “p is the actual world’s Big Conjunctive Contingent Fact.” How can both uses of the symbol “p” be correct? How can they simultaneously define “p” as being contained within the Big Conjunctive Contingent Fact (i.e. “p” is some small proposition, like “Martha feels sad today”) and as being the entire Big Conjunctive Contingent Fact (everything that makes a world unique)?

The tiny word “in” makes a huge difference. The authors’ attempt to use Premise 2 in a “modus ponens”-style argument to affirm the antecedent of Premise 4 is invalid. Premise 2, even if true, does not mean that the antecedent of Premise 4 is true, because these propositions are not the same.

The rest of the New Cosmological Argument uses the working definition of “p” as “the actual world’s Big Conjunctive Contingent Fact.” The authors believe they have proved that it’s at least possible that the whole world, in all its specificity, has an explanation. But the modus ponens was invalid.

The “weak” principle of sufficient reason, revisited

The authors warned the readers they’d be “unreasonable” not to accept W-PSR, the allegedly “weak” version of the Principle of Sufficient Reason. This formulation turns out to be quite strong indeed, with all sorts of strange side effects.

W-PSR implies that at least one necessary fact provides explanatory power for what makes each world unique. This does not make sense. If only one necessary fact explains all contingent facts – and if the necessary fact’s explanatory power is itself necessary – how can Gale and Pruss account for the differences between possible worlds? (This is a general problem with the distinction between “necessary” and “contingent” facts: it’s not clear how “necessary” facts in the watershed of all possible worlds eventually move downstream and degrade into separate rivers of “contingent” facts.)

Recall that W-PSR was deemed “weak” because it allows that any given fact might not actually have an explanation. With the addition of the idea that the explanation, at first deemed merely possible, is indeed a necessary fact, the authors slide into a position that maintains that the actual world contains an explanation for everything – by definition!

In the discussion following their eighth premise, they say that there must be one single explanation that “explain[s] each and every contingent proposition in this Fact, as well as the Conjunction as a whole.” In other words, the grand concatenated explanation not only covers every little contingent fact separately, but explains why this particular set of contingent facts (numbering roughly, oh, a googolplex or so), and not some different set, holds true.

Toward the end of the paper, Gale and Pruss acknowledge that atheists might accuse W-PSR of assuming the very thing it should be proving. They allege, however, that atheists only do this as a “dogmatic” power-play after they realize they’ve lost this particular argument. Additionally, in describing someone who “consent[s] to a proposition that he does not understand,” they use a normally unprintable seven-letter Yiddish word that rhymes with “duck.” This is unfair. Recall that, in this discussion, the interlocutor provisionally granted the hypothesis only for the sake of argument to see where it would lead, like turning the page of a book. That the argument hangs itself on a fatal typo in Premises 2 and 4 and in an inherent problem with the necessary/contingent distinction is not the result of atheist dogma.

The authors say that W-PSR doesn’t beg the question because “the existence of God is not an immediate consequence of it”; it requires some “deductive powers” to get there. This, too, is unfair. At the beginning of this article, it was shown that there are good reasons for someone to think that W-PSR is expressed unclearly and is not fully understandable as-is. Gale and Pruss’s rules of play threaten insult either way the reader leans: one is deemed Yiddishe derrière for gullibly accepting a premise without fully understanding it and is pronounced “unreasonable” for being skeptical of a new premise that is groomed to look decent on its face.

After the reader complies by provisionally accepting W-PSR but comes to realize its deeper consequences, a third insult is indirectly levied against him: he can no longer claim that W-PSR begs the question, because he lacked the brains (“deductive powers”) to see it immediately. One might retort that this fault should be laid at Gale and Pruss’s feet, since their formulation of W-PSR left loose ends for others to tie, only after which was it clear that W-PSR begs the question. And even if a particular reader is foolish, what does this have to do with proving whether W-PSR eats its own tail?

Given the fatal flaws described at the beginning of this “new cosmological argument,” it is difficult to proceed further with the additional components of the argument, especially as they are also unclear and objectionable. In short, this argument is not a successful proof that God exists and accounts for the world. Onward, skeptics.

Originally posted to Helium Network on July 4, 2013.

Image based on Michelangelo's "Creation of the Sun and Moon" (c. 1512). Digitally altered by T. Lieberman.


If you'd like to learn more about my work, I've published books. Also, I write for Medium. There, readers with a paid membership don't have to worry about the paywall.