How Should I Be A Sceptic -- theism or atheism

[Introductory note from Jason Pratt: the previous entry in this series of posts can be found here. A continually updated table of contents for all entries so far can be found here.

In my previous entry, I introduced two different examples of attempts to propose that the ultimate reality is both atheistic and theistic. (Not to be confused with ontological dualisms which would propose two ultimate realities with one being sentient and the other non-sentient. This concept was covered in previous entries, though it'll be discussed again in later entries where applicable.)]


On one side we have this concept: the IF is a Mind, but it has no plans and does not initiate events.

On the other side, we have this: the IF is not a Mind, but it has plans (or 'purposes') and initiates events (or 'strives').

What do these propositions offer?

The first one may seem to offer an explanation for the apparent intelligibility of the universe: the universe is not completely arbitrary, and there are notions we can discover about it which we can trust to a very large degree (maybe absolutely) to be true statements of the way reality really is.

These notions could be called static, or even objective, truths, although (like a mountain that isn't going anywhere) these truths would reflect different aspects under different conditions. Two oranges and two tomatoes will always take up four spaces in your box--unless you cut the oranges into sections, after which they are arguably no longer 'two oranges'. And the observations we make about things like this, give us data from which to infer reliable truths.

It would be easy to slur 'intelligible' into 'intelligent'; it would, in fact, be one variation of the famous (or infamous) Argument from Design. [Footnote: it would also, I think, be another variation of the externalistic fallacy: just because an entity behaves intelligibly, does not mean the entity is itself intelligent.] But I don't think the Stoics did this, necessarily. I think they looked around at their lives and their world, and concluded that the entities capable of the best efficiency were capable of reasoning. Greek thinkers were very concerned with 'efficient causes', and the Stoics were no exception; thus the final (and most 'effective') efficient cause must (they decided) be capable of Reason. The 'highest' thing they (and we) meet in our world is reasoning ability; thus Reason must in some way be a function of the highest thing. [Footnote: this would be one variant of the Argument from Reason, though not one of the variants I myself employ.]

Yet the Stoics do not seem to have been proposing an entity that could give commands or introduce effects into the natural order in any fashion; they had already had quite enough of that, thank you very much, from Greek polytheism.

At any rate, I can see that if I accepted the first variation of 'sentient and non-sentient', I might have some reassurance that reality was, at bottom, at least somewhat similar to myself--and a Stoic was very properly concerned with reaching his or her full potential, which involved interfacing most efficiently with reality (which naturally would be feasible if ultimate reality shares some key characteristics with us). At the same time, I wouldn't need to worry about this Mind personally bothering me--it has no purposes, no plans, no personality. It doesn't initiate action. It isn't going to send a priest to my door asking for contributions to the temple, or for my sons in a war--or for my soul's allegiance. I can pay attention to it as a Mind when I want to, and when I feel like it; it is convenient to me. (Time to suggest new laws at the public forum? Well, let's think about how this divine Mind would try to order things if it was faced with our particular situation, and if it had intentions.)

The second proposition offers me a very similar package, despite the switch in characteristics. Instead of the cold, unfeeling mechanism of Darwin and his ilk, Nature must be alive--like me! [Footnote: remember that insofar as natural mechanism goes, the supernatural theists would also usually be included with the "ilk" of Darwin...] Nature is 'up to something', and for all I know it could be something good--if not for me, well, then for my descendants, because self-ordering is in Nature's character, so to speak. (Or, well, somewhere in Nature's character anyway, mumble mumble entropy mumble...) I am alive; it is alive. It and I are not so different. I can look back in all sorts of history, and see Nature providing just the right events at just the right times to bring about--me! At the same time, I needn't worry about Nature bothering me--it has purposes and initiates action, but it has no personality. The kind of actions it initiates are, well, really beneath my notice; too simple and basic to bother me. It isn't going to send a priest to my door asking for contributions to the local parish, or for my sons in a crusade--or for my soul's allegiance. I can pay attention to it as a Life when I want to, and when I feel like it; it is convenient to me. (Look at the past, this is the way history is going; and that means this is the way Life itself, the irreducible Fact of the universe, is striving to go. It is mankind's destiny to be part of the plan I am advocating.)

Obviously, these two ideas throw a sop to my own pride; it is (only) up to me to figure out what the Divine Nature is up to. The Divine either isn't smart enough to understand its own plans, or despite being 'rational' it doesn't have plans. It either isn't smart enough to have opinions of its own, or despite being 'rational' it cannot initiate judgments to form 'opinions' per se. The world is on automatic pilot; and the pilot is an autistic savant who happens to be pretty good at piloting! He's going to do his job, which is only worth my time noticing on the macrohistorical scale, and I'm going to do mine (vitalism). Or, he's going to do his job (except, y'know, without intentions of doing so), and I'm just along for the ride; although it makes a difference to my happiness whether I buckle-up in a first-class seat and take the ride as it comes, or pop open the hatch to crawl out on the wing (early Stoicism). Either way, the pilot isn't going to come out of the cabin and annoy me. I may have to put up with some unruly passengers, of course; but that is to be expected.

On the one hand, we have a denial of initiation ability for the IF; but it still somehow represents the necessary order of interactions between cause/effect, ground/consequent. It is unconscious, but can still produce efficient mental effects--as I can reactively answer questions under anesthesia, although I didn't choose to.

On the other hand, we have an affirmation of initiation ability, although this doesn't include the processing of efficient mental effects. Yet despite its initiation ability, it is still considered to be (quite overtly so) 'unconscious'. Thus it doesn't consciously judge--especially it doesn't judge me! The particular actions it initiates are essentially beneath my notice. For all practical purposes, it is not initiating actions at all.

An atheist, in distinctive opposition, would say: the IF does not initiate actions. It does not think. It is blind, unconscious, automatic. There is no point in saying that It has Reason if those other claims are true about It; that is just playing with words.

A theist (including, I think, some polytheists and pantheists), in distinctive opposition, would say: the IF does initiate actions. It has purposes, and plans, which It is striving to bring to fruition. It knows where it wants to go; and It knows where It wants Nature to go. And that means It knows where It wants me (and you) to go, because one way or another we are part of It. And if It has plans and purposes, then by default--by definition of what a 'plan' and a 'purpose' is--It is intentionally, actively excluding one set of potential behaviors for another set. There is no point in saying It does not have Reason if those other notions are true about It; that is just playing with words.

The n-SIF advocate (for example the naturalistic atheist) and the SIF advocate (for example a Jewish theist) both cut pretty cleanly, I think, through the contradictions of the attempt at a middle-ground. For this reason (and for some reasons involving contradictions in general, which I have already covered in previous chapters), I will eventually be required to decide, if I can, whether the IF is sentient (as an action initiator that can, among other things, actively judge the coherency of linked propositions), or non-sentient (a blind, automatic, non-purposive mechanism that initiates no actions but very effectively reacts and counterreacts).

The middle-ground pantheist (this type of middle-grounder is typically a pantheist, although not all pantheists accept this both/and proposition about the IF) may reply that she didn't literally mean the IF has Reason, or that it has 'purposes'. She was 'only' speaking metaphorically.

I note that in the way she would use this term, she means something reductive--she means the reality is less, not more, than her description implied. I also note this can only lead to a n-SIF proposition if it is followed through consistently! No one ever bothers to say they were 'only' speaking metaphorically when they denied something had active purposes or when they denied something could accurately judge abstract links of reality in what we would consider a 'cogent' manner. No one bothers to say they were 'only' speaking metaphorically when they described reality as 'blind, automatic and non-purposive'. The middle-ground proponents could turn out to be atheists (of some sort) after all; it is, at least, another example of how the attempted position collapses into one or another distinctive position when any kind of practical application is made.

On the other hand, I don't think reductionism is a very good example of what it means to speak 'metaphorically'. Although I think such reductionistic use of metaphor can represent a definite notion that its adherent is trying to get across, such a tactic can be abused to imply that whenever anyone speaks metaphorically they really mean less than they appear to be saying.

I strongly disagree with such a use, and the removal of this misconception will help some people deal with claims about 'religion'. So to the topic of metaphor I now turn.


[Next time: 'on' metaphors]

How Should I Be A Sceptic -- theism and atheism?

[Introductory note from Jason Pratt: the previous entry in this series of posts can be found here. A continually updated table of contents for all entries so far can be found here.]


I have been arguing throughout this book that philosophical positions can be most cogently divided into two mutually exclusive categories: non-Sentient Independent Fact, or Sentient Independent Fact. I have reached this position mainly by tracing the implications of apparently competitive belief-systems (it turns out they were advocating one of these at bottom all the time), or by discovering that competitive theories end in self-contradictions.

But some people throughout human history would agree there is such a thing as the IF (or at least we must presume there is, in order to build philosophies and subsequent sciences) and that we can discover particular things about it (at least in principle); yet they would also propose that this IF is, in essence or in effect, sentient and non-sentient.

For instance, the early Stoics (dating back before the Christian--or, if you prefer, 'Common'--era) believed the rock-bottom irreducible Fact of reality possessed Reason. Because of this, they insisted that human laws should be drafted and polished to mimic as closely as possible what we could discover about this divine Reason. At the same time, these Stoics insisted that this Reason had no purposes. It was, after all, the physical element of Fire (which they thought was the basic building block of all reality--today we would think of it as ‘energy’); and Fire, while it clearly ‘behaves’ very effectively, has no purposes. They thus rejected the concept that the Ultimate would initiate its own agendas or plans within 'our' world or in our societies. In a way, this philosophy was a rejection of Greek polytheism, perhaps (curiously) by combining the characteristics of two of its ultimate aspects: Chaos and the Fates. Exactly how people got to this belief is not what I am concerned with, however. Some early Stoics proposed (in effect) that what I am calling the IF was really sentient, and really non-sentient.

This type of idea can be found in many cultures, across many eras. In the late 18th through early 20th centuries, as scientists and philosophers were hammering out the implications of biological evolutionary theory, some thinkers proposed vitalism to be true. The rudimentary non-reducible Fact of reality is (according to this proposition) the space-time system we call Nature (taken as a whole); but the basic irreducibly fundamental units of Nature are alive. Yet they are too simple to have a mind: it seemed evident at the time that minds (per se) could only be exhibited in the nervous clusters we call brains. The totality of Nature, considered as a whole (since it is not a 'brain'), must therefore also be considered mindless. Yet (said the vitalists) evolution could be explained as the striving of this mass of ultimately living matter to the intrinsic purpose of self-organization. Entropy might win out in the end, but the natural cohesion of matter (despite entropy in the meanwhile) illustrated this purposeful organization.

Against the vitalists were the mechanists who proposed that Nature as a whole was not and could not be alive, and certainly its most basic units were not alive; and without life (or even with rudimentary life), purposes did not exist at that level. Obviously the mechanists included atheistic naturalists; but (for what it is worth) they also included supernaturalistic theists of various stripes, trying to make sense of the new data.

Again, the scientific/philosophical combinations involved at this juncture are too numerous for me to try to trace (and frankly I haven't the pertinent information to do so). My point is merely that vitalism was another (yet distinct) example of a belief that what I call the IF is both sentient and non-sentient. [See first comment below for a deferred footnote here.]

'It really can think, but it really has no purposes and does not initiate action.' 'It really cannot think, but it really has purposes and does initiate action.' I think either version of this concept is necessarily self-contradictory at the primary level; and anything built on this concept will either carry that self-contradiction at its core, or else emphasize (perhaps accidentally) one side at the expense of the other--thus ceasing for all practical purposes to be that sort of belief.

Where self-contradictions are maintained throughout more complicated expressions of the concept, I can literally have no good reason to accept the proposition and so no good reason to accept anything developed afterwards on those grounds: the self-contradiction itself ensures (as I illustrated earlier) that there are no grounds. Advocates of this type of notion might be saying true things about reality when they get to their more complicated proposals; but they would be saying those true things despite their initial position, and this would tell me that if they do happen to be matching reality, then there should be another way to get there.

Furthermore, an attempt to begin in flagrant contradiction must (as a practical matter) collapse into either one proposition or another, in order to maintain some kind of cogency (so far as I have examined SIF and n-SIF propositions). The Middle and Late Stoics, for instance, focused increasingly on the practical application, at both the individual and state level, of the ethics derived from the ultimate Reason. Eventually, some Late Stoics began to express their views in language that hinted an approach to--or maybe even an acceptance of--the notion that the divine Reason was a purposeful, fully sentient deity; the IF was a SIF. [See second comment below for a deferred footnote here.]

This would be only another working-out of issues I have raised before (primarily why I should avoid truly contradictory claims about the IF, if I am going to bother searching for true ideas about it); except that it also has more than a passing acquaintance with some issues I will be raising later in my second section. So I will focus a little longer on these two propositions, and see what comparing and contrasting these claims can tell me about how we, as humans, perceive 'sentience'.


[Next time: trying to have and not have sentience]

Faith & Reason

I have been reading an apologetics text book, Introducing Apologetics, Cultivating Christian Commitment, by James E. Taylor.

Dr. Taylor, who had been "a committed Christian" most of his life, writes about how in college he began experiencing intense doubts about his faith. Unlike many stories that start like this, he did not find his faith encouraged by the study of philosophy or Christian evidence. In fact, although he "spent must of [his] senior year trying to find arguments for God's existence," he could not find a sure foundation by his investigation.

Obviously, because Dr. Taylor ended up writing an apologetics textbook, he somehow found his faith strengthened. If it was not the study of apologetics, what was it? In his own words,

It was a spring break trip to Mexico with a few hundred fellow students to lead vacation Bible school programs and evangelistic meetings in various neighborhoods around Ensenada. What I found during that trip was that the experience of Christian service, evangelism, worship, and fellowship revived my faith in God. This revival happened because through these experiences I had a strong sense of God's presence and activity.

Because of his experiences, Dr. Taylor rejected evidentialism -- the idea that Christian belief is reasonable only if supported by sufficient proofs -- and embraced fideism. Fideism gives faith pride of place over reason. Dr. Taylor is careful to claim that he is a "responsible fideist" rather than one who rejects rationality altogether.

By "reasonable fideist" Dr. Taylor means that he will steer a middle path between "just having faith" and an overemphasis on reason. "Too much confidence in reason may lead to doubt or unbelief because no combination of arguments and evidence can prove conclusively that God exists or that Christianity is true" on one hand, but that "too much emphasis on faith to the exclusion of reason may also lead to doubt or unbelief because there are legitimate questions of an intellectual sort about Christianity ... that trouble sincere believers and seekers."

I accept Dr. Taylor's point that a Christian's faith is reasonable based on that person's experience of God. William L. Craig calls this the internal witness of the Holy Spirit. In legal jargon, it is self-authenticating. Lest someone object that this is overly convenient, I would point out that it is consistent with the view that God desires relationship with mankind. If God desires a relationship with the poor and the rich, the educated and the ignorant, those with access to the latest scientific research and those consigned to live in illiterate, pre-industrial societies, then He is likely to establish a means of encouraging such relationship that is not dependent solely on the tools of education and reason. In other words, God's love is not limited to those who have the intelligence, time, resources, and education to pursue detailed philosophical arguments or embark on years of historical research.

Nevertheless, I may disagree to an extent with Dr. Taylor's contention that evidences and arguments cannot prove important elements of the Christian faith, such as the existence of God. For example, "The heavens are telling of the glory of God; And their expanse is declaring the work of His hands. day to day pours forth speech, And night to night reveals knowledge." Psalm 19:1-2. Rather, it seems to me that reasonable faith can rest on one's experience of God and that there are strong evidences and proofs supporting that faith.

I do believe that human reason has suffered from separation from God, but not to the point that rationality itself is suspect. Rather, it is the frailty of the heart, prejudices, and sin that clouds our ability to properly utilize it. Of course, my difference with Dr. Taylor may be one of slight degree. I have not read his analysis of several leading apologetic arguments, such as the Kalam Cosmological Argument or the evidences for the resurrection of Jesus. If I can make the time I will let you know what I find.

How Should I Be A Sceptic -- God and gods

[Introductory note from Jason Pratt: the previous entry in this series of posts can be found here. The first entry can be found here.]


In my previous chapter I explained why I think the concept of two or more IFs (whatever their other characteristics may be) leads, one way or another, to a functional proposition of only one IF.

So far when I have discussed a sentient IF (or a SIF), I have identified the IF as 'God'. But of course our history is full of religions where people declare the existence of numerous gods. Notice I have changed the big 'G' to a little 'g' in that statement. I am not trying to belittle this type of belief, but to preserve an important philosophical distinction.

I had to delay this discussion until after I had already covered the issue of what an IF is, and also until after I had established that there was no real point to discussing multiple-IFs (whether sentient, non-sentient, or any mix thereof). Now, I can now safely go back and cover this important distinction. [Footnote: I am also now in a position to cover in more detail what I mean when I contrast a non-sentient IF to a sentient IF--and that will be the topic of my next chapter.]

The IF, as I have been describing It (or Him), is the basis (even the 'base' or foundation) of reality as a whole. What I can discover and reason out about the IF, will affect the scope of intrinsic possibilities of any future propositions I may consider.

If, for instance, I discover that philosophical naturalism must be true, then I must reject as an error any supernatural theory of angels or devils. 'Angels' and 'devils' might still exist, but if naturalism is true they cannot be supernatural in origin or character. It would be a contradiction for entities to have aspects not dependent on Nature, if Nature is the IF--and if naturalism is true, only Nature (one particular system of reality) exists: a philosophical naturalist denies the existence of multiple systems in an ontological sense.

So, any conclusion I reach about reports or propositions concerning angels and devils (for example) should reflect any previous conclusions I have drawn about the characteristics of the IF.

Here is a different example of the same concept. In some versions of Greek mythology, the Fact from which all other things derive their existence is Chaos. It does not think; it is not moral; it makes no choices. It simply reacts and counterreacts according to its own self-existent character. From Chaos, directly emerge the Titans. The Titans cannot overthrow Chaos; and not only are dependent upon it, but also exhibit many of its characteristics. From the Titans come Zeus and Hera, who begin the process of begetting the other gods of the Greek pantheon--and the other gods produce more gods and demigods, humans, etc. (I am not saying this is how the pantheon was developed by Grecian cultures historically, by the way. I am only borrowing one common, and perhaps fairly late, version of the myth as an example for purposes of illustration.) The new gods can overthrow the old Titans because they are not utterly dependent upon them; but they cannot overthrow Chaos. Indeed, many Greek myths illustrate quite well, that (in their own fashion) the gods continue to exhibit the fundamental characteristic of the chaotic Final Fact. (The main difference is that the gods can take actions rather than merely react; and they do seem to have at least a truncated grasp of morality, neither of which are characteristics of non-sentient Chaos.)

The Greek gods, therefore, are not IFs; they are very powerful derivative entities. The entities derived in turn from them, could be less, more, or equivalent in power to them. The gods can trump each other, and to a certain extent they can be trumped by natural processes. (It can be difficult to tell, from story to story, whether these natural processes are or are not supposed to be gods themselves; either way, the principle is the same.) The gods are not supernatural; they are preternatural. And even if in some ways they might be considered to be supernatural (the distinction is sometimes smudgy and sometimes clear, as should be expected in stories told over long periods of time in a culture which developed and honed the practice of principle analysis), Chaos is supernatural to the gods and they still depend upon It.

This example illustrates why, although I consider the question of the existence and characteristics of gods to be interesting and even important; I don't consider it to be one of the first (or even middle) things to discover metaphysically.

Again, I don't mean this to denigrate those religions--I am trying to recognize the real implications of what those religions themselves have been designed to represent or 'say'. Polytheisms rarely (if ever) posit multiple self-existent gods (or Gods, in that case) from the get-go; and I have already explained why I think the very concept of multiple IFs leads to the recognition of a single IF anyway. So I should, and will, postpone the question of the character and existence of gods, until I figure out what properties the IF itself has.


Having explained why I consider the question of the existence of derivative gods to be secondary to (and dependent upon the conclusions of) my main task, I am now in a position to better explain my attitude toward Mormonism.

According to one prevalent interpretation of Mormon theology (though the actual tenets for the notion are, to the best of my knowledge, found only in two sermons, one each by Joseph Smith and Lorenzo Snow, which sermons are not regarded as canonical authority by the LDS church), 'God' was once a man (presumably human), qualitatively like us, who somehow achieved Godhood on a different world (or perhaps natural universe) and then went off with His wife to establish our Earth (maybe including, if I have understood the claim correctly, this evident natural universe in total).

I have a number of problems with this proposal (presuming I have understood these Mormons correctly): for instance, I think it is untenable to claim that natural properties can somehow develop into previously nonexistent supernatural properties. But more to the point of this chapter, I think such a philosophy might as well, at bottom, be some type of atheism--not theism.

Naturalistic atheism would not, in principle, exclude the possibility of a naturally produced creature eventually attaining massive natural power and then doing many of the things attributed to God by the Mormons (or by any traditional theism, actually). God would be a naturally produced entity; He (or, rather, he) would be 'a god', not God. He would still be, admittedly, the most interesting thing Nature (or some Nature somewhere in reality) has produced; and it would admittedly be prudent to obey such a powerful creature, in the same way that it would be prudent to obey King Arthur--or Stalin.

[Footnote: insofar as proper names go, it might be sufficient to say that he is 'God' if he is unique; but then one of the points to Mormonism is that any of us can attain exactly the same kind of development, and be exactly the same kind of entity as 'God'--and purportedly this happens on a fairly regular basis. The superiority of God to exalted humanity would only be the superiorities of a father to any of his natural descendants within a species.]

The Mormons thus seem to be telling me about an emergent god. That may be well and good, but I want to find out what the characteristics of the final Fact are. And, not coincidentally, 'traditional' Judaism and Christianity (and Islam, which also claims Judeo-Christian historical/theological roots but which is not connected to Mormonism) are trying to tell me about that Final Fact--what I am calling the IF. Of course, so is atheistic naturalism. One set of philosophies tells me the IF is sentient, one set tells me it is non-sentient. The Mormons seem to be telling me the same thing the atheists are telling me, or they might as well be, except with some unusual historical details.

[Footnote: the unusual historical details would, in many cases, be ones I happen to agree with, of course. The LDS Christian and I would disagree on the meaning of some of those historical details; but then neither, I suppose, am I likely to have total agreement on interpretation of meaning with any theologian even within the 'traditional' branches of Christianity.]

So the Mormons must be quite right about at least one thing: either they or we 'traditional' Christians (or both) have gotten far off the tracks. But maybe I can get some hints about the correct answer by checking out potential IF properties and the consequent implications. [See first comment below for a deferred footnote here.] Looking for the characteristics of the IF will give me at least a potential handle on what to make of existence/characteristics claims concerning entities which are (by the characteristics notably ascribed to them in their own stories) themselves derivative.

[Footnote: I understand there is another, perhaps less prevalent, type of Mormonism, wherein the three persons of God are treated as ontological IFs in themselves. I have already noted recently, though, how multiple-IF claims end up pointing toward a single IF after all, upon which the IF claimants would themselves be dependent. While my analytical examples were limited to two IFs, the principles work out just the same with any greater number of multiple IF claimants. This leaves me in much the same position, in regard to this variant of Mormonism, as to the more popular 'developmental' Mormonism: either way, the claims point back to an overarching IF; and as a metaphysician, my first concern is with figuring out the properties of that IF, insofar as I can.]

But throughout my book I have been dividing one of the chief potential characteristics, into sentience vs. non-sentience. Some of my readers may ask whether this is a facetious division; or at least, should I not introduce a third category? There are some pantheists (not necessarily all) who would claim that the IF is mindless yet purposeful--or words to that effect. So this is where I will focus my next chapter.


[Next time: SIF/n-SIF vs. ??]

Bloodline -- The Da Vinci Code Redux

Apparently, there is a new film out called Bloodline which, once again, asserts the same tired claim of the historically vacuous The Da Vinci Code that Jesus and Mary Magdalene were married. The same tired characters are presented and the same result is found -- nothing much.

While I don't have time at this moment to give further thoughts on this silly documentary and the countless reasons (most already well-stated in response to claims of The Da Vinci Code, I did want to point out something about the messenger -- Bloodline's director, Bruce Burgess -- that gives reasons to doubt his credulity: he is a person who has previously made other equally unbelievable documentaries. According to Newsbusters.org:

Over a three day stretch, ABC devoted almost 15 minutes of air-time to a documentary filmmaker who asserts in his movie "Bloodline" that the resurrection of Jesus Christ was a massive hoax perpetrated on humanity. Additionally, on Friday's "Nightline," reporter Elizabeth Vargas left out any mention of the bizarre interests of the film's director, Bruce Burgess. He's directed and written documentaries on Bigfoot, the Bermuda Triangle, Area 51 and a secretive look at a U.S. government's supposed cover-up of the alien landings at Roswell.

Wouldn't it be relevant to know that Burgess seems to be fascinated with every weird conspiracy imaginable? (And hasn't the mainstream media mocked bloggers for not being restrained journalists? How serious is Bigfoot and the the subject of the Bermuda Triangle?)

Yup, whenever I see a conspiracy argument that Jesus' death and resurrection was faked by the disciples, I have to admit that, in my mind, I am listening to someone telling me about alien abductions. I always ask this question: "What was the point to the cover-up? What did these Jewish disciples (who could be stoned for claiming that Jesus was God, and, in fact, were persecuted) gain from pretending that Jesus had resurrected? Did they get money? Did they get a more comfortable life?"

Really, give me a break. The Da Vinci Code was a joke, historically speaking, and Bloodline is simply The Da Vinci Code redux.


========
Note: I edited this piece on Wednesday May 14, 2008, to correct the title of the documentary from "Bloodlines" to the correct "Bloodline" in response to a comment. I certainly don't claim perfection, and I simply added an "s" to the title because it was "stuck in my head" that way. The commentor who pointed it out was very critical claiming that this small error showed I didn't know what I was talking about. I would challenge the commentor to tell me exactly how it makes a difference to what I say that I called it "Bloodlines" by mistake. Regardless of my mistaken title, it is the Da Vinci Code all over. Its major addition to the Da Vinci Code myth is merely to add a tomb found in France as further evidence that Jesus was secreted to France. I have not written further on this because I know another CADRE member is planning to do so. But my point still stands: tell me what benefit anyone hoped to gain at the time of this supposed conspiracy to pretend Jesus was resurrected, and the benefit the earliest followers (i.e., the church) gained from following the belief that Jesus was God. The answer is: nothing.

How Should I Be A Sceptic -- in question of multiple IFs

[Introductory note from Jason Pratt: the previous entry in this series of posts can be found here. The first entry can be found here.]


In my discussion building up to (in hindsight) a positive argument for God's existence and character, I have been trying to pare off variations of philosophy which as far as I can tell are contradictory at their primary level--and of course I have tried to explain why I do not accept philosophies which require an active advocacy of contradiction.

In the process of trying to avoid absurdity, I have introduced the concept of what I am calling an Independent (or alternately an Interdependent) Fact--an IF. As I have done this, I find I am essentially recognizing and calling attention to something which everyone at bottom agrees exists; because in the process of checking the systemic integrity of fundamental proposals, I have discovered that even the opponents of an IF, if they are saying anything other than meaningless nonsense, are talking (without realizing it) about an IF.

As I have said, in a way my conclusion can be considered a variation of the Ontological Argument--but only in a limited sense. The IF might be sentient (a SIF), and be a supernaturalistic or naturalistic God; or it might be non-sentient (a n-SIF) and be the ultimate level of reality posited by atheists (be they naturalists or supernaturalists). Either way, I have concluded that we can discover (in principle) particularly real things about this IF--we can, in principle, affirm and falsify propositions about it.

I suggested at the end of my previous chapter [and entry] that some of my readers may here raise a very pertinent question: since I have now decided that I must discuss an IF, should I be speaking of only one IF? Or could there be a limited (not infinite) set of IFs?

As it happens, the principles of multiple IFs may be discussed by considering the idea that only two of them exist; and interestingly, when philosophers and priests throughout history have proposed the existence of equal but separate ultimate entities, they almost invariably propose two rather than more. I will be concentrating, then, on 'ontological dualisms' in this chapter--as I hope you will see, whether we are talking about two or two hundred multiple IFs, the underlying principles come out to be the same either way.

I call these philosophies 'ontological dualisms' to distinguish them from other topics in philosophy which may be called 'dualisms'. (Though I've been in the habit until recently of calling them 'cosmological dualisms'; but 'ontological dualism' is more accurate.) For instance, the theory that the human mind is to some degree independent of the human body is known as 'mind-body dualism'. But M-B dualism is a rather specialized topic within an already established overarching philosophy; and right now I am trying to decide what types of overarching philosophies do (or, deductively, do not) make sense as viable contenders for The Way Reality Really Is.

I think it doesn't matter in the end what type of ontological dualism is being proposed; but for purposes of example, let me present two of the most popular types. One I will call God/Nature dualism. The other, I will call God/Anti-God dualism.

God/Nature dualism proposes that God and Nature both exist and both are independent of each other. Nature cannot affect God; God cannot affect Nature. Nature is self-existent; God is self-existent. Neither one produced the other; both are eternal. Strictly speaking, God is extranatural, not supernatural, to Nature.

Put another way, one ultimate system is sentient (God), one ultimate system is non-sentient (Nature), and neither is 'above' or 'below' the other. Nature could be considered to be sentient or non-sentient in this type of dualism. A nominal deist who takes his worldview (God exists but has minimal effect on Nature) further into ontological dualism would, for instance, very probably consider Nature to be non-sentient. On the other hand, I think some religions in world history have proposed that Nature and Supernature are both sentient, yet are also both equal and Independent of each other. (When such beliefs involve masculine/feminine notions, however, a very curious implication follows--which I will discuss later in Section Two.)

God/Anti-God dualism states that Nature (which is usually agreed to exist--and is usually agreed to be non-sentient) is dependently produced by two ultimate entities. Both these entities are sentient, but they are both perfectly equal in power. Neither one can affect the other; neither one depends on the other; neither one produced the other; each entity is self-existent and was not created. [Footnote: being sentient, one IF might perhaps choose to allow Itself to be affected by the other, although this is dubious--see below...]

Although these two variants of 'cosmic dualism' have their own distinctive features, both of them propose or require two IFs to exist. Let me look more closely, however, at what this common idea entails.

By the terms of the proposal, the two IFs can have no power to affect each other. The problems associated with this can escape our notice because we, as humans, affect each other and Nature (and are affected in turn) all the time. But you and I as humans are not independents--certainly not within the worldview of any cosmic dualism I am aware of. We are at the very least commonly dependent on the overarching natural system that encompasses us.

For instance, I can poke you, and you may or may not be able to prevent me. If you can prevent me, then something other than my own choices may be constraining me; if so, then I am either partially dependent on this 'something', or this 'something' and I are interdependent and can affect each other equally.

But two interdependent entities, considered as themselves, must be part of an overarching system that allows them to interact with one another. For example, the system of Nature encompasses both you and me.

This principle may not seem important when we are discussing 'dualisms' merely in theory; but it becomes devastating when a dualism is practically proposed. [Footnote: the principles also has some striking consequences in regard to a theistic IF. I'll be developing this topic much later in Section Four.]

Let us say a God/Nature dualism exists. Why should we say that? You and I are evidently part of Nature in some fashion; Nature affects our ability to think and to move. What does the proposal of a supernatural IF provide us, if Nature is also Independent? Explanations of events? What events? Not any event exhibited in Nature: for Nature as an Independent is invulnerable to extra-Natural effects. God might choose (as a sentient entity) to allow something, such as an extra-natural (or even a derivative) Nature, to affect Him; but a non-sentient Nature does not have that option. [Footnote: the implications of this notion in regard to a pair of sentient IFs will be discussed presently.]

God, in this proposal, can only exhibit events Nature does not exhibit; so how are we to perceive God? If we cannot perceive God's effects we are left with no grounds to accept a proposal of Him; if we can perceive God's effects, then under God/Nature dualism they cannot be effects within Nature. But that doesn't matter, because we are derivative of Nature (at least) under this theory; here we are in Nature, thus we must be derivative of Nature, and not derivative of God, Who (as an extra-Natural entity, even though also an IF) cannot cause effects within another IF system. Yet, under God/Nature dualism, we can somehow perceive God. This perception must either be sheer illusion (and there goes our last ground for accepting the proposal of a God/Nature dualism, leaving us with Nature as the IF); or else we somehow share or exhibit or form a common ground where the two effects (Divine and Natural) meet in some way.

But there can be no common ground in a cosmic dualism! Otherwise it isn't a cosmic dualism, because the common ground shows the existence of an overarching system that (even if metaphorically) 'encloses' the two effect-producers.

The actual implications of a God/Nature dualism, then, require me to reject it. Any conditions that might give me some initial grounds for concluding a God/Nature dualism, also require that I must be mistaken to conclude this. I grant (as I have done before) that someone could sheerly assert this; but I have explained why I do not think a mere assertion counts as a belief in the proposition. The characteristics of a God/Nature dualism, repel my ability to cogently propose, or accept, its existence. This being the case, I will believe that something else is true.

Let us say, as another example, that a God/Anti-God dualism exists. Why should we say that? You and I are obviously part of Nature in some fashion; and Nature for this scheme must be derived equally from these entities--otherwise it immediately runs into the problems of the God/Nature dualism.

But a God/Anti-God dualism cannot avoid the same problem in the end: both entities are supposed to be introducing effects into Nature (even if they are only limited to being the common Creators of Nature)

SIF dualisms often propose that the two SIFs must be equal and opposite to each other. If so, each SIF would have an intrinsic interest in opposing whatever the Other is doing, including within commonly shared systems such as our Nature. Any action taken by one entity within the proposed common system should be capable of being instantly countered as a zero-sum opposing effect by the other entity; and this zero-sum effect would be a guaranteed result of two necessarily equal/opposite entities, with perfectly ultimate access to our natural system. Certainly this would be true of a God/Anti-God dualism!

And I think dualists are correct to propose that a dual set of IFs would necessarily be opposed to one another in this fashion, down to their final foundational characteristics. Any characteristics they shared would imply a commonality of their own (purportedly Independent) 'natures'.

This leads back to the most fundamental problem with any type of dualism, including God/Anti-God: the concept of two (or more) IFs sharing any commonality, even a common field of activity or sheer existence, is contradictory to the concept of both of them being truly Independent. It indicates, instead, that they share some overarching reality, and this reality (not them) would be the true IF.

If it comes to it, the mere fact that we (as derivative beings) can even think of two completely Independent entities, slurs over the fact that (for the moment at least) our own minds become the common medium. If more than one IF does exist, I think it would be a contradiction in terms for us to even imagine their existence.

I do not know whether I have entirely removed ontological dualisms from possible consideration; but I am disinclined to consider a cosmological dualism as a viable option. Thinking through the implications of such notions, leads me directly to something other than a cosmological dualism: it leads me to some single IF. [See first comment below for a deferred footnote here.]

I will now add that theisms are not dualisms, and are not usually presented as such. [See second comment below for a deferred footnote here.] Jews, Christians and Muslims may believe in a Most Powerful Evil Entity--a Satan, or Shai'tan--but it turns out there are legitimate metaphysical reasons why we should, and do, say this entity is a derivative rebel against God, not an equal-and-opposite opponent.

Often theists will allow that Satan may have an equal-powered (and equally derivative) opponent against whom he fights. The Big Three Theisms have historically tended to identify this good opponent as the archangel Michael. But 'evil' (per se) is not explained this way--by theists, at least. (I will be returning to this in a much later chapter.)

Having brought up peripherally the concept of other Very Powerful Entities, I will now backtrack a little and explain in a bit more detail the notion of God which, even as a sceptic, I would consider the primary argument to be about.


[Next time: God and gods]

How Should I Be A Sceptic -- in question of infinite possibilities

[Introductory note from Jason Pratt: the previous entry in this series of posts can be found here. The first entry can be found here.]


In the previous chapter [several entries ago], I said there were three ways the Final Fact can be (and historically has been) considered to transcend our ability to think about it.

I have already dealt with the first option: that nothing we say about the IF can be true; and I have explained why I reject this position and any positions built upon it.

The second option is that everything we say about the IF can be true. [Footnote: This position is not to be confused with a position stating that all facts have Independent status. I’ll be discussing variants of that position later.]

This would certainly qualify as a concept we cannot fully fathom; and its adherents often affirm that such claims are particularly true: i.e., that the IF is not a generality or pure abstraction (although sometimes they go this route, too).

Best of all, its adherents can say not only that they are rendering honor to the IF (to whatever extent that means); but also that they need not dispute with any other belief. All religions and philosophies are equally true and valuable, they will say: none has preeminence.

On the face of it, this seems like a sensitive, refined, tolerant belief that reduces friction between people. Everyone comes out a winner, hostilities are minimized, and anyone disputing it automatically seems revealed as being necessarily fractious and an enemy to peace. And I admit, insofar as those reasons go, I would very much like for this concept to be true.

But I am certain that it is not.

Why do I reject the proposition that all philosophical beliefs (including religions) are equally true and valuable--that all things we say about 'God' are true?

Let me imagine a meeting of these 'unitarians', as I will call them for convenience (though of course not all people who describe themselves as 'Unitarian' would propose that all proposals are true about God). A naturalistic atheist, a positive pantheist and a Muslim show up.

I agree that any one of these people might benefit from listening for a while to the beliefs of the other two. They may find issues where they really do share beliefs, and so may establish a certain amount of sympathy for each other as people. They may have their own beliefs strengthened by listening to an opposing viewpoint and seeing serious problems with the opposition. They might even begin seeing serious problems with their own belief-system and act to modify it accordingly, perhaps closer in line with an oppositional belief.

But what they cannot do, is seriously discuss a topic from three different stances and agree that everyone is saying something equally yet exclusively true about that topic.

The Muslim will say that the final fact of reality is sentient and moral, and that this entity (Allah) has definite opinions about, for instance, Muhammad. He will also say that God is one thing, and not another. If he did not, he would not be a Muslim; that is part of what it means to be 'a Muslim'.

The atheist will say that the final fact of reality is non-sentient and amoral, and that it doesn't have thoughts about anything, including about Muhammad: the prophet was not created by a sentient Entity upon Whom everything else depends, but by the non-sentient amoral Natural system instead; and consequently Muhammad was quite mistaken about being inspired by Allah and/or the angel Gabriel. Muhammad may have said some interesting things, may have done some important things, maybe even have said some true things about reality; but he wasn't correct about those things. Our atheist will say this, because those beliefs are part of what it means to be 'an atheist'.

[Footnote: The atheist may technically allow that an entity corresponding to Gabriel communicated with the prophet; but as an atheist, he will contend that this entity was not sent by a sentient Independent Fact (any claims of the entity to the contrary), and if (as is very likely) he is also a naturalist, he will also say the 'angel' was not a supernatural entity.]

The positive pantheist will say that no Supernature exists, only Nature (there is only one metaphysical level to reality); in this she will agree with our naturalistic atheist, and disagree with our Muslim. She will say that this natural system is sentient; she will disagree with both of her friends on this. She will probably say that God is amoral (or perhaps 'beyond good and evil'); again, disagreeing with both her friends. (The atheist would say there is no God, or ultimate sentience; the Muslim would say that God is moral.) She will say these things, because this is part of what it means to be a (positive) pantheist.

These three people cannot all be equally correct.

One or two of them may be correct on topic A, and the third may be correct on topic B. And one of them may even be completely correct on all counts. But to claim they all can be completely correct on all their mutually exclusive positions would be to claim a flat contradiction; and I have already explained why flat contradictions cannot be true realities.

Some pantheists, of course, are quite comfortable with assigning mutually exclusive properties to God as mutually exclusive properties. God is non-purposive, yet sentient, for instance; or, God is amoral, yet still provides us with a real moral compass. So our pantheist might decide she is really quite at home with this arrangement; she might decide she can stay a 'pantheist' and affirm that all things are true about God.

But our naturalistic atheist and our Muslim are not in the same boat; their beliefs only make distinctive sense by saying one thing and not another. They are always free to modify their beliefs, of course. [See first comment below for a footnote here.] But then they will no longer be an atheist and a Muslim. They will be some kind of pantheist--and not even every kind of pantheist!

And this is my second reason for rejecting this type of concept: it is presented as a way to respect and acknowledge diversity, but when it is seriously practiced it leads directly to one (extremely muddled) type of pantheism--either that or its adherents aren't really practicing it yet.

Again, unitarian pantheism is not supernaturalistic theism or atheism. The philosophy that promises an ultimate safeguard to all beliefs, instead converts all beliefs to a particular belief that is not those other beliefs.

I am tempted to call this 'insidious'; but I would be uncharitable to presume its adherents are consciously attempting this under the flag of tolerance and of acceptance of all beliefs. I think, however, that if I want to protect a distinctive belief of mine--or even to respect and listen seriously to the distinctive beliefs of you, my reader!--I cannot simultaneously maintain that all beliefs are true.

And this leads to my ultimate reason for rejecting this sort of position: its proponents do not--they quite literally cannot--mean what they claim to mean.


'All beliefs about God are equally true.'

Really? I believe some beliefs about God are more accurate than others and some are completely false.

'You are correct as well.'

But we disagree on this point! You say that all beliefs about God must be equally true, and yet also say that some beliefs about God are misleading or outright false! You are saying nothing at all about God.


At bottom, this position must be meaningless gibberish; or else it is a distinctively exclusive proposition about God. If it is the first, then I will not claim a 'belief' in it. If it is the second, then I still will not claim a belief in it, for I would be refuting myself immediately. Resorting to flat contradiction to save the position is, as I have explained, a useless tactic.

There is another way of putting my last point: such people often deny their position in the practice of ethics.


'Really, none of this matters! Don't you see that we must for the sake of society turn to a recognition that all beliefs are equally valuable and true?'

Why do you say that?

'Look at your own obscurantist intolerant beliefs! Your Christian Church raped and plundered its way across the Old and New Worlds, exterminating whole peoples and cultures and rendering untold misery throughout centuries!'

I myself am of the opinion that the particular parties you refer to were not, in fact, following the metaphysics or ethics of Christianity when they did this, and rather were implicitly rejecting them while holding to them in name for personal gain. [Footnote: Nor do I exempt myself from the principle of this opinion; for I am also a sinner, as well as a Christian. I will discuss this much later in my chapters on ethics.] However, let us assume for the sake of argument that they were indeed reflecting quite well the implications of Christian belief. What is your problem?

'My... my problem?? What kind of monster are you!? Is it not obvious?'

It would be obvious if they were wrong to do that.

'You're saying they weren't wrong!?'

No, we both are saying they were wrong to do that; and in your case you are putting at least part of the real blame on the specific characteristics of Christian belief.

'Certainly, whatever their beliefs were, they were wrong to do this! That is why we should embrace and recognize all beliefs as equally valuable and true.'

Except the belief of those people, evidently.

'Not if it leads to tragedies such as that.'

Then you are saying that all beliefs are equally valuable and true, and that some beliefs are better than others. Your beliefs (you say) lead to peace; some beliefs (apparently) lead to strife, hatred, fear and pain. You claim that strife, hatred, fear and pain are not equally valuable as peace--indeed that they have some kind of negative value; therefore the particular notions that lead to those things should be rejected. That is why someone should be a unitarian (or whatever) and not exclusively a Christian (or whatever). But so much for the whole point to an all-inclusive belief-system. It turns out that some beliefs should be excluded after all--which is just as restrictive (in its own way) as Christianity, Islam, atheistic naturalism, or whatever.


Therefore, I cannot really consider all claims about God (or, to re-include the atheists here, let me say 'the IF') to be true.

This leaves the third option: whatever the IF is, it must have particularly exclusive characteristics; and I have explained already why I think that at least some of these characteristics must be discoverable in some fashion. There are claims about the IF that are true; and claims that are false; and perhaps there are claims that are true about It under one condition and false under another. But that does not (as I have said) imply contradiction--although such a situation might manifest itself as a paradox, about which itself we should in principle be able to discover something particularly useful and true.

But some of my readers may now raise a worthwhile question: "You keep talking of 'the IF' and 'it' and 'itself' or 'Him'--or anyway as if It is singular. Perhaps you are right about an infinite regress being either necessarily false or necessarily presumed to be false; but why can there not be two (or some other limited number) of IFs?"

In fact, until now I have tried to alternate between saying 'the' IF and 'an' IF, precisely because I haven't yet touched this issue. Now I will explain why I think there must be one and only one IF--be it sentient or non-sentient, natural or supernatural.


[Next time: in question of multiple IFs]

The Evolving Nature of Evolution: Counter Example

This is the fourth in a series about the debate between Darwinian evolutionists and advocates of Intelligent Design. In part 1, I used President Bush's statement that the debate should be "properly taught" to point out that no one (at least, no leading figure in the debate) is presently advocating that ID be taught with the same weight as Darwinian evolution. Rather, the case that is being made is that it should be introduced and taught fairly so that students can understand the controversy. In part 2, I pointed out that statements to the contrary notwithstanding, the central hypothesis of Darwinian evolution has not actually been tested. That doesn't mean that there isn't a lot of evaluating of the evidence and placing the evidence into the Darwinian evolutionary framework. The fact that the evidence fits so nicely (much of the time) into that framework provides evidence that the framework is true. But the problem is that the framework itself remains untested and unproven. In the third part, I used two analogies to try to illustrate what I saw scientists as actually doing when they claim to have demonstrated the truth of evolution. In this part, I want to re-examine something that Dr. Higley said in his pro-evolution article.

=======================

As I noted originally in part 2, an article by Dr. Leon Higley originally posted on the University of Nebraska Lincoln website (which has now been partially preserved on the Marine Insects Homepage for the University of Nebraska Kearney) discussed the testing of the evolutionary hypothesis by asking why insects haven't succeeded as well in water as on land. You can read the quote in its entirety in part 2, but I want to edit out some material so I can focus on a couple of points here.

When you do experiments, where you (at least in principle) control every factor except the one you are examining, hypothesis testing usually involves using statistics. Statistics are important, because they provide a mathematical statement based on probability theory of how likely a given outcome is. By convention, scientists tend to say that unless an experimental result could have occur [sic] only 1 time in 20 (5% of the time), it probably is not a real effect.

Unfortunately, given that we don’t have planets and hundreds of million of years to experiment with, we have to take a different tack with the marine insects question. Here, as in much evolutionary argumentation, we try to form plausible hypotheses, and then try to find evidence that supports or disproves these guesses. Once a hypothesis is formed, we look for current examples that would contradict it. For example, the argument that insects can’t survive in the ocean because of water pressure doesn’t seem so good when you realize one insect species survives at a depth of 1,300 meters! This is a form of counter example. Because at least one species can survive a great depth, it implies that other insects could have evolved to do so. Eliminating hypotheses by counter examples is a powerful approach in assessing hypotheses.

Counter examples are a type of comparison (comparing one species’ biology with what might be possible for the group). Often comparison provides a mechanism for supporting a hypothesis. In our marine insects example, we compare insects in the oceans with insects in fresh water. We find that lots of insect species live in fresh water, but almost none do in the oceans. Compare: what is different about the two habitats? If it isn’t something physical (such as salinity or water pressure), maybe it has to do with biology.

Dr. Higley is effectively saying that one way to examine a scientific hypothesis is by examining nature to find whether nature supports the hypothesis -- the "educated guess" of the scientist -- or opposes the hypothesis. He uses, as his example, the problem of why insects are not as prevalent in salt water environments as crustaceans. He pointed out that the lack of insects in the water environment may seem to be contrary to the idea that insects can succeed in any environment, but then he points out how the lack of insects can be seen as consistent using other scientific principles.

He also points out that scientists use statistics to determine the validity of a particular theory. Specifically, he notes that if a certain result is likely to occur less than five times out of a hundred attempts, it is probably the case that the theory is not supported by the evidence.

I'm good with all of that. Clearly, it makes a great deal of sense.

So, that brings us to the problem of Intelligent Design (ID). Consistent with the nature of scientific investigation that Dr. Higley describes in his article, ID presents a counter-example to the idea that all life began with a simple life form and evolved into more and more complex lifeforms solely by natural laws and natural selection. It says (in part) that certain biological structures are so complex and are so completely unlikely to have come together by pure chance that it is necessary that there must have been some type of designer. In making these assertions, ID uses statistics to demonstrate its claims -- a discipline which Dr. Higley approves. Hence, it could point to (for example) the clotting system and its incredible complexity coupled with an apparent purpose to say that all of the pieces of the system need to be in place for the system to function. If any one of the pieces is missing then the system fails and does not succeed in clotting at all. What are the odds that all of the pieces should come together into a functioning clotting system in the simplest organisms? I'm certain that the odds must be very long indeed. (In saying the foregoing, I am aware that there are certainly theories about the evolution of clotting systems, and perhaps some answer all of the questions posed about how the clotting system came to exist in a purely naturalistic context. I am using the clotting system merely as an example of one system that is pretty darn complex which may have pieces in the system that are, as ID scientists describe them, "irreducibly complex" and not capable of being broken down into smaller functioning units, and which pieces are highly unlikely -- i.e., significantly less than 1 in 20 chance pointed to by Dr. Higley -- to have come together by purely naturalistic means.)

So, given that intelligent design presents counter-examples to the theory -- exactly what Dr. Higley says is an appropriate means of doing science -- why is this effort so quickly denounced by those invested in evolution? At least two strong contenders for the reason present themselves. First, ID leads to the possibility that God, a god or gods is/are involved. Keep in mind that ID says absolutely nothing about the identity of the designer which is evidenced in nature. It merely points out that the appearance of design coupled with the mathematical remoteness that some system arose purely by natural causes (making it pretty much impossible that it could happen naturally) means that something outside of nature had a hand in creating some of these systems. That offends today's scientists who are wedded to the idea of naturalism as the only legitimate foundation stone for proper scientific inquiry.

Second, and more importantly, unlike the type of counter-example addressed by Dr. Higley, the Intelligent Design counter-example strikes at the very core of the theory of evolution -- the central pole, so to speak. It is not something that merely questions the details of the theory like the frog that was found in Madagascar that needs to be reconciled with the fact that its nearest biological relative lived in South America. Rather, ID goes to the very heart of Darwinian evolutionary theory because, if correct, there is no way that evolution can be the sole basis for the incredible complexity in life we see on Earth (and may even be responsible for that life occurring at all). One cannot imagine a land bridge or a previously unknown benefit to explain away the gaping hole in evolutionary theory that intelligent design reveals.

Intelligent Design is a scientific hypothesis that has not been proven wrong any more than evolution has been proven wrong. The former is simply a counter-example to the reigning scientific belief in step-by-step evolution. If it weren't for the fact that it challenges the sacred cow itself, ID would be readily accepted as proper science since it uses counter-example and statistics to challenge a part of the evolutionary scheme. The only problem is that the part that it challenges is the very heart of the theory.