This is a follow up to my previous post regarding an argument against the existence of a Christian God. It should be obvious that by "convincing," I mean convincing to me. Anyways, here's the argument.
1. Human beings are fundamentally different from all observed entities in the physical universe.
2. If human beings are fundamentally different from all observed entities in the physical universe, then their origins cannot be completely explained by appeals to the physical universe.
3. Therefore, the origins of human beings cannot be completely explained by appeals to the physical universe.
Of course, this argument does not show that a Christian God exists. It doesn't even conclude that any kind of God exists. It does, however, present a first step towards establishing that God exists. At the very least, it shows that there is something other than the physical universe out there.
I would imagine that most people would reject the first premise of the argument. Here's another argument given in support of the first premise.
1. Human beings experience transcendental emotions.
2. The fact that human beings experience transcendental emotions is best explained by the notion that human beings are fundamentally different from all observed entities in the physical universe.
3. Therefore, it is likely that human beings are fundamentally different from all observed entities in the physical universe.
Transcendental emotions are emotions whose scope is greater than regular social contexts. We experience hope, despair, gratitude, and anxiety at a mundane level. But we also experience these emotions at a far greater level. When someone feels thankful to be alive, who are they thanking? When someone despairs at possibility of life's meaninglessness, where is the emotion directed towards? These sorts of emotions are data that require explanation. Reductive accounts appealing to evolutionary mechanisms seem unsatisfying to me. So, absent other candidates, the best explanation seems to be that sorts of emotions come from a part of human beings that isn't formed by physical mechanisms.
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Friday, April 18, 2014
Summary of the third chapter of my dissertation
The Project
I will explore and flesh out in further detail the epistemic connections between metaphysics and science. By "epistemic connection," I mean the following sorts of relations:
x epistemically justifies, or raises the justification of y.
x defeats justification for, or lowers the justification for y.
If you replace x and y with propositions commonly associated with science and metaphysics, then under what conditions will the above propositions be true or false? I will develop an account that clarifies this epistemic relationship between science and metaphysics. I will show when, if ever, propositions in science appropriately raise or lower the epistemic justification of beliefs in propositions in metaphysics, and also vice versa.
The Motivation
Imagine the hottest nightclub in town, i.e. the kind of long lines, velvet ropes, beefcake bouncers, and $20 Cosmopolitans. Let's call this place "Club Knowledge." Now, suppose we have a fellow named "Metaphysics." Metaphysics, with his faux hawk, popped collars, and Affliction jeans, has been trying to get into Club Knowledge for months now. People have hotly debated whether or not Metaphysics should be admitted to Club Knowledge. Now suppose we have a lady named Science. Science is queen of Club Knowledge. She is admitted immediately to her own VIP area and rolls with her entourage of sycophants. Metaphysics thinks to himself, "Maybe I can friendly with Science, and she'll put me on the guest list." Will this plan work? Will Science include Metaphysics in her ever growing entourage? Will Metaphysics have to do anything or make any changes in order to gain the favor of Science? Does Metaphysics even need Science to get in the club? What happens if Science disses Metaphysics? Stay tuned for more!
The Plan
Here's how the paper breaks down.
First, I'll clarify what I mean about the lowering and raising of epistemic justification. In formal epistemology, you might hear talk of credence. Credence is more or less the strength of belief that an agent has with respect to a proposition p. Credence takes on values from 0 to 1, where 0 is certainty that p is false, 1 is certainty that p is true, and 0.5 is agnosticism about p. You might think of epistemic justification as a sort of "normative" credence, i.e. the degree of credence that you should have given the justifiers present. My interest here is in determining which sorts of propositions serve as appropriate justifiers for a particular belief, and why. Armed with this knowledge, I'll move on to talk about science and metaphysics.
Once I've clarified the mechanics behind changes in epistemic justification in light of the evidence, I'll next clarify on the notions of science and metaphysics. The goal here is to more or less determine which propositions fall under science, which fall under metaphysics, and why these sorts of propositions are categorized the way they are. How does the subject matter of science relate to the subject matter of metaphysics? There are several possibilities here. The two subjects could be disjoint. One could be subsumed in the other. They might overlap to some degree, or they might be coextensive. What's the correct way to view the relationship between the subject of these two disciplines and why? Understanding the relationship between subject matter will help us further understand how the two are epistemically related. For instance, if the two are disjoint, that might go some way to explaining why there is little to no epistemic relation between the two.
Apart from subject matter, academic disciplines can also be differentiated by their methodology. What is the methodology of science and of metaphysics? How are they related? Like subject matter, the methodology of these two disciplines will help to shed light on the epistemic connections between these two disciplines. For instance, if the methodology science was completely empirical, and if the methodology of metaphysics was completely a priori, then it would seem that there is no epistemic connection between the two. Clearly things aren't actually so cut and dry, so further exploration will be needed.
Now that I've got my all my conceptual pieces, it's time to put them together to form a coherent theory about how claims in science are epistemically related to claims in metaphysics, and vice versa. This section will lean heavily on the work that I've done clarifying the concepts that are mentioned above. What I hope to show is that if there are connections between science and metaphysics, what precisely those connections are how they work, given my understanding of the above concepts. I hope to clear up some confusion and to clean up some ambiguities in current discussion involving the two disciplines. I'll also do some case studies. One popular example of the purported connection between science and metaphysics is the special theory of relativity in physics and presentism in metaphysics. Does the former defeat justification for the latter? If so, how? Armed with the theory given in this paper, we'll see what's really going in these sorts of discussions.
The Context
This paper will be a chapter in my dissertation, which is about the epistemology of metaphysics. Of course, I'll be trying to get as much mileage out of this paper as possible, and thus preparing it for conference presentation and hopefully publication.
I will explore and flesh out in further detail the epistemic connections between metaphysics and science. By "epistemic connection," I mean the following sorts of relations:
x epistemically justifies, or raises the justification of y.
x defeats justification for, or lowers the justification for y.
If you replace x and y with propositions commonly associated with science and metaphysics, then under what conditions will the above propositions be true or false? I will develop an account that clarifies this epistemic relationship between science and metaphysics. I will show when, if ever, propositions in science appropriately raise or lower the epistemic justification of beliefs in propositions in metaphysics, and also vice versa.
The Motivation
Imagine the hottest nightclub in town, i.e. the kind of long lines, velvet ropes, beefcake bouncers, and $20 Cosmopolitans. Let's call this place "Club Knowledge." Now, suppose we have a fellow named "Metaphysics." Metaphysics, with his faux hawk, popped collars, and Affliction jeans, has been trying to get into Club Knowledge for months now. People have hotly debated whether or not Metaphysics should be admitted to Club Knowledge. Now suppose we have a lady named Science. Science is queen of Club Knowledge. She is admitted immediately to her own VIP area and rolls with her entourage of sycophants. Metaphysics thinks to himself, "Maybe I can friendly with Science, and she'll put me on the guest list." Will this plan work? Will Science include Metaphysics in her ever growing entourage? Will Metaphysics have to do anything or make any changes in order to gain the favor of Science? Does Metaphysics even need Science to get in the club? What happens if Science disses Metaphysics? Stay tuned for more!
The Plan
Here's how the paper breaks down.
First, I'll clarify what I mean about the lowering and raising of epistemic justification. In formal epistemology, you might hear talk of credence. Credence is more or less the strength of belief that an agent has with respect to a proposition p. Credence takes on values from 0 to 1, where 0 is certainty that p is false, 1 is certainty that p is true, and 0.5 is agnosticism about p. You might think of epistemic justification as a sort of "normative" credence, i.e. the degree of credence that you should have given the justifiers present. My interest here is in determining which sorts of propositions serve as appropriate justifiers for a particular belief, and why. Armed with this knowledge, I'll move on to talk about science and metaphysics.
Once I've clarified the mechanics behind changes in epistemic justification in light of the evidence, I'll next clarify on the notions of science and metaphysics. The goal here is to more or less determine which propositions fall under science, which fall under metaphysics, and why these sorts of propositions are categorized the way they are. How does the subject matter of science relate to the subject matter of metaphysics? There are several possibilities here. The two subjects could be disjoint. One could be subsumed in the other. They might overlap to some degree, or they might be coextensive. What's the correct way to view the relationship between the subject of these two disciplines and why? Understanding the relationship between subject matter will help us further understand how the two are epistemically related. For instance, if the two are disjoint, that might go some way to explaining why there is little to no epistemic relation between the two.
Apart from subject matter, academic disciplines can also be differentiated by their methodology. What is the methodology of science and of metaphysics? How are they related? Like subject matter, the methodology of these two disciplines will help to shed light on the epistemic connections between these two disciplines. For instance, if the methodology science was completely empirical, and if the methodology of metaphysics was completely a priori, then it would seem that there is no epistemic connection between the two. Clearly things aren't actually so cut and dry, so further exploration will be needed.
Now that I've got my all my conceptual pieces, it's time to put them together to form a coherent theory about how claims in science are epistemically related to claims in metaphysics, and vice versa. This section will lean heavily on the work that I've done clarifying the concepts that are mentioned above. What I hope to show is that if there are connections between science and metaphysics, what precisely those connections are how they work, given my understanding of the above concepts. I hope to clear up some confusion and to clean up some ambiguities in current discussion involving the two disciplines. I'll also do some case studies. One popular example of the purported connection between science and metaphysics is the special theory of relativity in physics and presentism in metaphysics. Does the former defeat justification for the latter? If so, how? Armed with the theory given in this paper, we'll see what's really going in these sorts of discussions.
The Context
This paper will be a chapter in my dissertation, which is about the epistemology of metaphysics. Of course, I'll be trying to get as much mileage out of this paper as possible, and thus preparing it for conference presentation and hopefully publication.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
The most convincing argument against the existence of a Christian God
For me that argument goes like this:
1. If the God of Christianity exists, then sincere Christians would be significantly morally better than everyone else.
2. Sincere Christians are not significantly morally better than everyone else.
3. Therefore, the God of Christianity does not exist.
The argument itself springs from a question. If the God of Christianity exists, then why aren't Christians better people? This is of course not to say that Christians are bad people. It is to say that morally speaking, they are not noticeably different from people of other faith traditions and people of no faith at all. The spiritual transformation of individuals resulting in people who are more loving towards God and others seems to be an essential part of the Christian message. So why don't we see it?
A common response to this line of inquiry is the "user error" response. God desires for people to be more loving, but people because of their free will, disobey and remain in a state of moral mediocrity. There's some merit to this response, but it seems ultimately dissatisfying. Surely there are at least a significant minority of self-identifying Christians who sincerely desire to be more loving and to pattern their behavior after Jesus Christ. Why does it seem that most of these individuals ultimately fail to develop the kind of character that others would immediately identify as being Christlike? Second, in most Christian theology, transformation character is primarily attributed to the Holy Spirit. If this is the case, then the user error response seems misguided. If God is ultimately responsible for character transformation, and there are sincere Christians who make informed attempts at initiating this transformation, then where are the Christlike Christians? This is even more troubling if you adhere to a Reformed theology. If God has already chosen who's going to heaven, then why doesn't he go ahead and choose to make them into selflessly loving individuals?
Perhaps the second premise is false. This premise is an empirical claim. Of course, I can only speak from my own observations. I have met and am friends with many Christians who are good people. But, they really aren't noticeably more loving or charitable than people whom I've met who are atheists, Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, Wiccans, etc. Perhaps someone out there can point me to some data showing Christians to be noticeably more loving than others.
Ultimately I don't think that this argument is sound. But, it's very compelling, and I don't have a good objection to it.
1. If the God of Christianity exists, then sincere Christians would be significantly morally better than everyone else.
2. Sincere Christians are not significantly morally better than everyone else.
3. Therefore, the God of Christianity does not exist.
The argument itself springs from a question. If the God of Christianity exists, then why aren't Christians better people? This is of course not to say that Christians are bad people. It is to say that morally speaking, they are not noticeably different from people of other faith traditions and people of no faith at all. The spiritual transformation of individuals resulting in people who are more loving towards God and others seems to be an essential part of the Christian message. So why don't we see it?
A common response to this line of inquiry is the "user error" response. God desires for people to be more loving, but people because of their free will, disobey and remain in a state of moral mediocrity. There's some merit to this response, but it seems ultimately dissatisfying. Surely there are at least a significant minority of self-identifying Christians who sincerely desire to be more loving and to pattern their behavior after Jesus Christ. Why does it seem that most of these individuals ultimately fail to develop the kind of character that others would immediately identify as being Christlike? Second, in most Christian theology, transformation character is primarily attributed to the Holy Spirit. If this is the case, then the user error response seems misguided. If God is ultimately responsible for character transformation, and there are sincere Christians who make informed attempts at initiating this transformation, then where are the Christlike Christians? This is even more troubling if you adhere to a Reformed theology. If God has already chosen who's going to heaven, then why doesn't he go ahead and choose to make them into selflessly loving individuals?
Perhaps the second premise is false. This premise is an empirical claim. Of course, I can only speak from my own observations. I have met and am friends with many Christians who are good people. But, they really aren't noticeably more loving or charitable than people whom I've met who are atheists, Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, Wiccans, etc. Perhaps someone out there can point me to some data showing Christians to be noticeably more loving than others.
Ultimately I don't think that this argument is sound. But, it's very compelling, and I don't have a good objection to it.
My teaching statement
Below is a draft of my teaching statement. It's part of my application dossier that I'll be sending to schools when I apply for jobs.
______________________________
The Definition of Philosophy
I define philosophy very broadly as simply the study of ideas and the relations between ideas. I find this rough definition pedagogically useful, as it allows me to draw from a variety of sources, both traditional and unconventional, ordinary and esoteric, in order to illustrate philosophy at work, and to give my students different ways to practice philosophy.
The Value of Philosophy
If you are reading this, then you probably already believe that philosophy is valuable. If you do not believe that philosophy is valuable, then I probably won't convince you otherwise. I will however, give you two arguments that I give my students when I discuss the value of philosophy.
James's Dad's Argument
1. Philosophy is valuable only if it directly provides some sort of substantial material gain.
2. Philosophy does not directly provide some sort of substantial material gain.
3. Therefore, philosophy is not valuable.
James's Brother's Argument
1. Philosophy is valuable only if resolves long standing issues and debates that are part of its subject matter.
2. Philosophy has not resolved (at least not to my knowledge) such long standing issues and debates.
3. Therefore, philosophy is not valuable.
Understanding why both of these arguments are unsound goes some way into understanding the value of philosophy. Most of my students will agree that philosophy is instrumentally valuable. It strengthens the ability to participate in rational investigation, which is indispensible in just about every career field. Some of my students might even believe, as I do, that philosophy is intrinsically valuable. However, the former is sufficient to motivate the study of philosophy.
The Goal of Teaching Philosophy
My goal in teaching philosophy is to train students to become philosophers. Of course, there is distinction between philosophy as an activity and philosophy as a profession. I don't teach with the expectation that all of my students will pursue a career in philosophy, but I do teach with the expectation (or at least hope) that my students will continue to practice philosophy in some form throughout their post-college life.
I hold that what distinguishes philosophy is its method, not its subject matter. While the methods of philosophy may not be as easily codified as the scientific method, it is clear that how philosophy is done is distinct from how the sciences are done. (Whether the methods of philosophy are distinct from other humanistic disciplines is less clear.) So, when I claim that the goal of teaching philosophy is to train students to become philosophers, I mean more specifically that the goal of teaching philosophy is to train students to become proficient in a certain method of inquiry. The difference between an amateur and a professional philosopher is simply a difference of degree of mastery, similar to the difference between an amateur and professional athlete. My task as a college instructor is to train my students to attain a certain degree of proficiency in the philosophical method which they can further hone in graduate school, or apply to other career fields.
The Method of Teaching Philosophy
Now that I've stated what the goal of teaching philosophy, the question that follows is how this is to be done. As it is for all instructors, this is very much a work in progress. What I can say here is what I've tried, what seems to work, and what I'd like to try in the future.
At most universities, an Intro to Philosophy course briefly surveys topics in ethics, epistemology, and metaphysics. In Syracuse, there is no such course. Instead ethics is covered in its own intro course, and there is an intro to metaphysics and epistemology course. I've taught both types of classes. I have two goals when I teach these classes: to pique their interest in philosophy, and to introduce them to an assortment of philosophical tools. I try to meet both goals by having my students apply such philosophical tools to situations that might be familiar or relevant to them. For example, one such philosophical tool is conceptual analysis. I often have my students perform conceptual analyses on ordinary concepts like sport or art.
Along with the two goals mentioned above, I also have the goal of exposing my students to well known issues in philosophy. This includes subject matter like skepticism, the existence of God, the mind-body problem, utilitarianism, ethical relativism, etc. This goal, however, is subservient to the two aforementioned goals. So, in order to pique their interest in philosophical issues, I will bring in sources to supplement primary sources. For example, science fiction movies can illustrative of the problem of skepticism in ways that are more accessible than reading Descartes' Meditations. I also use these topics as a vehicle for the introduction and application of philosophical tools. For instance, I use arguments for and against the existence of God to introduce Inference to the Best Explanation.
This approach may depart from the way many instructors teach introductory courses. Most instructors teach these classes by focusing primarily on the exegesis of primary texts. I have no problems with this method. You learn philosophy by doing philosophy. However, this seems sub-optimal to me. Consider an analogy from sports and music. One can learn to be proficient at playing the piano or playing basketball simply by learning songs or playing basketball games. But, you'd be hard-pressed to find a professional pianist or basketball player who didn't spend a considerable amount of time performing activities whose sole focus was to develop mastery of fundamental techniques. A good basketball player has likely done countless drills. Similarly, a good piano player has likely played numerous etudes.
I hold that philosophy is analogous to activities in music and sport. People can become good philosophers just by doing philosophy, but it seems that an explicit focus on philosophical method would yield even better results. I believe that the practice of doing philosophy, i.e. becoming aware of the ongoing discussions occurring among philosophers in person or in the literature and making one's own contributions to the discussion, can be supplemented with activities that sharpen fundamental techniques essential to the practice of philosophy. It seems clear that such an approach would move us closer to a more fruitful pedagogy of philosophy.
______________________________
The Definition of Philosophy
I define philosophy very broadly as simply the study of ideas and the relations between ideas. I find this rough definition pedagogically useful, as it allows me to draw from a variety of sources, both traditional and unconventional, ordinary and esoteric, in order to illustrate philosophy at work, and to give my students different ways to practice philosophy.
The Value of Philosophy
If you are reading this, then you probably already believe that philosophy is valuable. If you do not believe that philosophy is valuable, then I probably won't convince you otherwise. I will however, give you two arguments that I give my students when I discuss the value of philosophy.
James's Dad's Argument
1. Philosophy is valuable only if it directly provides some sort of substantial material gain.
2. Philosophy does not directly provide some sort of substantial material gain.
3. Therefore, philosophy is not valuable.
James's Brother's Argument
1. Philosophy is valuable only if resolves long standing issues and debates that are part of its subject matter.
2. Philosophy has not resolved (at least not to my knowledge) such long standing issues and debates.
3. Therefore, philosophy is not valuable.
Understanding why both of these arguments are unsound goes some way into understanding the value of philosophy. Most of my students will agree that philosophy is instrumentally valuable. It strengthens the ability to participate in rational investigation, which is indispensible in just about every career field. Some of my students might even believe, as I do, that philosophy is intrinsically valuable. However, the former is sufficient to motivate the study of philosophy.
The Goal of Teaching Philosophy
My goal in teaching philosophy is to train students to become philosophers. Of course, there is distinction between philosophy as an activity and philosophy as a profession. I don't teach with the expectation that all of my students will pursue a career in philosophy, but I do teach with the expectation (or at least hope) that my students will continue to practice philosophy in some form throughout their post-college life.
I hold that what distinguishes philosophy is its method, not its subject matter. While the methods of philosophy may not be as easily codified as the scientific method, it is clear that how philosophy is done is distinct from how the sciences are done. (Whether the methods of philosophy are distinct from other humanistic disciplines is less clear.) So, when I claim that the goal of teaching philosophy is to train students to become philosophers, I mean more specifically that the goal of teaching philosophy is to train students to become proficient in a certain method of inquiry. The difference between an amateur and a professional philosopher is simply a difference of degree of mastery, similar to the difference between an amateur and professional athlete. My task as a college instructor is to train my students to attain a certain degree of proficiency in the philosophical method which they can further hone in graduate school, or apply to other career fields.
The Method of Teaching Philosophy
Now that I've stated what the goal of teaching philosophy, the question that follows is how this is to be done. As it is for all instructors, this is very much a work in progress. What I can say here is what I've tried, what seems to work, and what I'd like to try in the future.
At most universities, an Intro to Philosophy course briefly surveys topics in ethics, epistemology, and metaphysics. In Syracuse, there is no such course. Instead ethics is covered in its own intro course, and there is an intro to metaphysics and epistemology course. I've taught both types of classes. I have two goals when I teach these classes: to pique their interest in philosophy, and to introduce them to an assortment of philosophical tools. I try to meet both goals by having my students apply such philosophical tools to situations that might be familiar or relevant to them. For example, one such philosophical tool is conceptual analysis. I often have my students perform conceptual analyses on ordinary concepts like sport or art.
Along with the two goals mentioned above, I also have the goal of exposing my students to well known issues in philosophy. This includes subject matter like skepticism, the existence of God, the mind-body problem, utilitarianism, ethical relativism, etc. This goal, however, is subservient to the two aforementioned goals. So, in order to pique their interest in philosophical issues, I will bring in sources to supplement primary sources. For example, science fiction movies can illustrative of the problem of skepticism in ways that are more accessible than reading Descartes' Meditations. I also use these topics as a vehicle for the introduction and application of philosophical tools. For instance, I use arguments for and against the existence of God to introduce Inference to the Best Explanation.
This approach may depart from the way many instructors teach introductory courses. Most instructors teach these classes by focusing primarily on the exegesis of primary texts. I have no problems with this method. You learn philosophy by doing philosophy. However, this seems sub-optimal to me. Consider an analogy from sports and music. One can learn to be proficient at playing the piano or playing basketball simply by learning songs or playing basketball games. But, you'd be hard-pressed to find a professional pianist or basketball player who didn't spend a considerable amount of time performing activities whose sole focus was to develop mastery of fundamental techniques. A good basketball player has likely done countless drills. Similarly, a good piano player has likely played numerous etudes.
I hold that philosophy is analogous to activities in music and sport. People can become good philosophers just by doing philosophy, but it seems that an explicit focus on philosophical method would yield even better results. I believe that the practice of doing philosophy, i.e. becoming aware of the ongoing discussions occurring among philosophers in person or in the literature and making one's own contributions to the discussion, can be supplemented with activities that sharpen fundamental techniques essential to the practice of philosophy. It seems clear that such an approach would move us closer to a more fruitful pedagogy of philosophy.