Showing posts with label science. Show all posts
Showing posts with label science. Show all posts

Sunday, 1 April 2012

God, science and the epistemic distance.

It’s still March. Technically. I’ve been thinking about how to do this for a while. I’ve read this idea of few times recently, and I wanted to address it a little. There is an idea that you should be able to empirically test the existence of God. It’s a rather attractive idea, which is why I feel the need to actually address it.

Before we start, I feel it’s best to tell you right now that I’m a theist. If you want to ignore anything I’ll say on the basis that I’m clearly biased thanks to my evil religiosity*, that’s fine. There are plenty of people who’d do exactly the same if I’d said I was an atheist.

Are they gone? Yes? Good. I hated those people. They weren’t witty, intelligent and devastatingly handsome like you are. OK then, onto my actual argument. The way I’ve seen people use to try and test the existence of God are varied, but the most common are probably prayer and near death experiences. Let’s be clear here, I won’t necessarily defend either prayer or near death experiences even under theistic worldview. There are some pretty serious problems with the idea of both of those things. I’ll do a dialogue on prayer one of these days, actually. But that’s irrelevant to the point I’m gonna try to make. I don’t want to prove that specific tests of God’s existence don’t work, I want to prove that trying to do the test using the scientific method is inherently unworkable.

Let us examine the nature of God for a moment**. Assume that He exists. In such a case, there exist four possibilities: He wants us to know that He exists, He wants us not to know whether He exists or not, He wants us to think that He doesn’t exist. Let us examine these possibilities in turn. The first is clearly ridiculous – if God wishes to convince people of His existence, he’s probably gonna be able to do it. If nothing else, the actual discovery of Russell’s teapot would probably convince even Dawkins, especially if it had ‘yes, Dawkins, I do exist’ written on the side. The second and third are functionally identical for the argument I’m about to make, and I’ll be arguing that one of them must be true, so I won’t try to refute them here. Which leaves the fourth. I… actually can’t deal with that one using pure definitions. Yeah, it seems somewhat silly that an omniscient, omnibenevolent God should genuinely not care, but He is ineffable, so it would be premature to rule it out. However, it doesn’t’ fit either with my argument, or with any traditional conception of God. It’s just weird. So let’s assume that the omnibenevolent, loving, caring God actually cares. Probably not too much of an assumption

So we’ve concluded that if a God does exist, He must either want us not to know whether or not he exists, or want us to think he doesn’t. Any empirical test, therefore, that He knows you’re running to test whether or not He exists, he’s going to make sure that you don’t get any evidence suggesting that He exists, isn’t He now. And since He’s omniscient, you’re probably not going to get around Him – if He doesn’t want you to know He exists, you’re probably not going to find a way around that one.

So if God exists, He either doesn’t want us to know whether he exists or not, or He actively wants us to think He doesn’t exist. One question remains: Why? Why on earth would an extant God randomly decide to hide His existence? Isn’t it simpler just to assume that He doesn’t exist at all? Well, now seems a good time to introduce you to the concept of epistemic distance, an idea belonging to, in my opinion, one of the greatest philosophers ever, John Hick. Let’s look at the nature of God, shall we? Almost everyone, no matter how sociopathic they might be, follows the law when they know that a policeman is looking directly at them. You can make a pretty good argument that anyone who doesn’t is totally insane, since they’re quite obviously acting against their own self-interest****. Now let’s assume that God exists, and you know it. Obviously, you’re going to do everything humanly possible to please Him – anything else would be seriously against your own self-interest. It’s similar to the ‘religious believers are in some way less good, since they can’t divorce their thinking from the idea that by doing good they’ll be rewarded later on’ argument. If you know God exists, your free will is reduced, and you can’t  really do good, since you can’t really choose to do other than as you do – in the words of Kant, ought implies can.

So if God exists, He has a good reason to keep his existence from becoming a matter of fact, to preserve epistemic distance and thus preserve free will. The Universe is entirely consistent with a God who does this, and any testing is pretty much gonna be pointless for proving either way. I’m not expecting anyone to convert from this argument – I’m not arguing that God exists (I’m a theist for completely different reasons), I’m arguing that He doesn’t necessarily not exist, and that science and religion really shouldn’t interfere with each other.

*Apparently, that actually is a word. Huh.
**I am here assuming the traditional omnipotent, omniscient, omnibenevolent God. As you’ll see, my arguments don’t really work for other kinds of God***.
***Which handily deals with the ‘we are both atheists...’ argument. What luck.
****Or they think that they’ll be able to escape, but…

Thursday, 1 March 2012

Dialogues on the arts

Happy Leap Day, everyone*. In celebration of such a rare day, I thought I’d do something special (other than updating, which is pretty rare anyway).  Also, the number of pageviews this blog gets seems to be going up. I feel all responsible and important and stuff.

Seriously, though. This blog has nothing to do with Shakespeare (usually). Or flowers (ditto). If you want help with those, you’d probably be better off looking at Sparknotes or something.

And to those people who’re sending their friends here as a joke, come on. A friendly joke is one thing, but forcing people to read my writing? That’s just cruel (joking – please send your friends here, even as a prank, since the ‘pageviews’ bar is tightly tied to my ego, and it rising is the only way of protecting my fragile self-worth).

Anyway. This blog was originally mainly meant to be about politics and philosophy. That’s why I got a blog in the first place. So here’s something vaguely political for you. And in honour of my domain name, it’s vaguely Shakespeare related. There was other stuff I wanted to say, but it’s late, and I can’t think of it, and I plan to do another post very soon (hopefully this week), so I’ll leave it.

Except this: Happy birthday to everyone born on 29/02 (or on 02/29 and who’s American). You have the awsomest birthday ever.

Ben James: What?
Finn Carter: I didn’t say anything.
Ben James: I know. But you have the kind of look you have when you’re about to say something specifically designed to annoy me.
Finn Carter: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Ben James: Good.
Finn Carter: Incidentally, the arts and humanities are less valuable than the sciences.
Ben James: Of course you do. Would you mind explaining exactly what you mean by ‘arts and humanities’.
Finn Carter: OK, I’m pretty sure you know what arts and humanities are. You cost the state thousands by studying the bloody things.
Ben James: Really? So what’re the political sciences? Science or humanity? Psychology? Sociology? Economics? Philosophy? Can you give me an actual definition that won’t leave me with corner cases?
Finn Carter: You are so bloody pedantic. You know that?
Ben James: Yes. Yes I do.
Finn Carter: Let’s limit it to just the arts then.
Ben James: Great. You still need to explain what ‘arts’ means.
Finn Carter: The arts are those disciplines where the main purpose is the creation of beauty.
Ben James: Really?
Finn Carter: For now, anyway.
Ben James: OK then.
Finn Carter: We’ve finished the boring definitional bit then?
Ben James: So what about Atlas Shrugged?
Finn Carter: …What?
Ben James: Books like Atlas Shrugged, which were written mostly for the purpose of propagating a particular political or philosophical viewpoint. Or what about Paradise Lost? They’re not art then?
Finn Carter: I’m not sure…
Ben James: If you’re going to object to my characterisation of Atlas Shrugged and Paradise Lost, I hope you realise how utterly fallacious refuting the example is. Just because one of my examples is wrong, the principle of literature or other works theoretically existing primarily for political or philosophical reasons still stands. Unless you’re willing to spend about the next three hours refuting the political and philosophical motives of The Waste Land, 1984, The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ…
Finn Carter: Fine. You’ve read Plato’s Republic, yes?
Ben James: Yes…
Finn Carter: Then you know what Glaucon’s response to that would be?
Ben James: It’s only art insofar as its purpose is the creation of beauty? I’m not sure I accept that.
Finn Carter: Regardless. You can end this conversation whenever you feel like it if you’ll just accept that I’m right about the uselessness of books that actually are for the creation of beauty, and about the aesthetic aspects of political books.
Ben James: Then I’ll accept your definition for the moment. Care to explain why, exactly, the arts are so utterly useless?
Finn Carter: It’s not obvious? I mean, they’re so utterly useless. The scientists? Even the humanities to some extent? They actually improve people’s life in some way. The arts don’t do anything for anyone.
Ben James: Would you mind defining ‘improve’ for me?
Finn Carter: Oh come on. Improve. Make better. Provide benefit.
Ben James: What makes you think the arts don’t, then?
Finn Carter: …Science has more than tripled people’s lifespans since the Neolithic era. It’s reduced every aspect of labour. Everything you do is made easier and better by scientific advances. We can do things today without effort that people a hundred years ago couldn’t even have imagined.
Ben James: To what end?
Finn Carter: I’m sorry?
Ben James: Why? What about making people’s lifespan longer, and people’s work easier is good?
Finn Carter: You aren’t normally this dumb. Are you feeling OK?
Ben James: Oh, I’m not saying they’re not good. I’ll even concede that one might see making people’s lives longer as inherently valuable for no other reason than that human life is something that should be preserved. But what about making people’s lives easier, or about doing things that are predecessors couldn’t have?
Finn Carter: I think I see where you’re going with this.
Ben James: As far as I can see, there are only two possibilities. Either there’s the fact that people are made happier by improved technology, or the fact that learning and discovery are inherently valuable.
Finn Carter: Or because freedom is good.
Ben James: Explain?
Finn Carter: Like I said. The sciences have allowed us to do things people a hundred years ago couldn’t even imagine. Unlike your two possibilities, you can’t say the arts have done that.
Ben James: And technology has never been used to restrict freedom.
Finn Carter: They increase the possibility of freedom. Besides, the benefits far outweigh the problems.
Ben James: I’ll accept that. And I’ll accept that the arts have never provided a direct increase in possible actions, despite their inspirational properties. But one’s freedom isn’t just restricted by what it’s technically possible to do. It’s also restricted by what one even thinks of doing. That’s one of the most effective way of controlling people. The arts can provide increases in freedom. Not through direct increases in physical freedom, but the increases are just as important all the same.
Finn Carter: That’s stretching it, and you know it. But you’ll accept that life-extending sciences are of particular value.
Ben James: For now.
Finn Carter: But now you’re running into problems with definitions. Scientific discoveries tend to have unexpected consequences. Preventing people from starving to death. Eliminating disease. Improving transport of food and medicine. Preventing global warming.
Ben James: Which was caused by the sciences to start with.
Finn Carter: Details. Even something like relativity has lead to GPS working. Are you really telling me that you can’t think of a situation where being able to find where you are, or being able to find someone who’s got lost is lifesaving.
Ben James: If you’re going to have things that broad, the arts can save lives too.
Finn Carter: This I have to hear.
Ben James: The arts are pretty much the best ways available to communicate ideas to others. They help educate and spread ideas. They help foster understanding between people, and they help warn people of particular dangers. How many tyrannical regimes and reigns of terror haven’t happened because of the arts?
Finn Carter: We agreed that we’re defining the arts as dedicated to creating beauty.
Ben James: But you contradicted that when you said that the sciences had unpredictable consequences. So do the arts. It’s impossible to tell what works will have a great influence on politics and philosophy, especially with Death of the Author theory**. And anything you do to promote that kind of art promotes all the other kinds as well. So the other kinds end up being a cost-free benefit to society.
Finn Carter: Not as great a benefit as the sciences are, though.
Ben James: I don’t think you can really measure that.
Finn Carter: Sure you can. Remember Aaron Vontrell?
Ben James: No. I’m pretty sure there’s no such person.
Finn Carter: There used to be. He was a writer and artist, and his works ended up uniting most of the world. He prevented World War II, since everyone rallied around to help Germany, and they were never driven to elect an extremist leader, and he severely thawed the Cold War. Then some idiot time traveller killed him when he was still in his twenties.
Ben James: Proves my point.
Finn Carter: The shooter was inspired by The Catcher in the Rye.
Ben James: …
Finn Carter: That’s what he claimed, anyway. To be fair, he probably didn’t know what would happen.
Ben James: …

*Actually, where I am that ended about half an hour ago. This took some time to write. Sorry.
**There’s no natural way to work this into the dialogue, and you don’t need to know, but DotA theory is basically ‘what the author thinks is irrelevant’.