The Oatmeal’s cat in a dark room
December 22, 2015 5 Comments

Photo credit: Nebojsa Mladjenovic via Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND
Charity and clarity on issues that matter
December 22, 2015 5 Comments
Photo credit: Nebojsa Mladjenovic via Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND
November 6, 2015 4 Comments
A recent study reports that religion makes children more selfish. Another headline says that nonreligious children are more generous, and another casts the study results in terms of altruism. If true, this devastates the case for raising children with religion, right? After all, scientists said it, so that settles it.
Not so fast. Let me recap the basics of the study first. It included a “dictator game” to see how many stickers a child subject would reallocate when told of another child who was unfortunate enough to have no stickers. According to the study, kids from secular homes gave more stickers on average than kids from Christian and Muslim homes.
In another part of the study, the child subject watches someone being mean to someone else, and then is asked to evaluate the degree of punishment the transgressor should receive. Muslim kids assigned more severe punishment than the Christian kids did, and Christian kids assigned a more severe punishment than the secular kids did. From these findings, it is alternately reported that kids from religious homes are less generous, altruistic, and moral than their secular cohort.
While altruism, generosity, and selfishness all touch on what it means to be moral, these attitudes don’t exhaust what morality is. And by morality I mean ethics. Neither the researchers nor the journalists provide a meta-ethical context for understanding these observed behavioral differences. What difference would that make?
Scientists Can’t Wrangle Virtue
There are many ethical theories by which we might understand an action as moral. In his Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle gave us a big one, the concept of virtue. A virtue is not an unmitigated good. A deficit or an excess of what would otherwise be a virtuous attitude results in vice. Take patience for example. Snapping angrily at your child on her first request for ice cream is a vicious deficit of patience. But letting your child run the credit card up–to its limit–with ice cream purchases is a vicious excess of patience.
In addition to having the right amount of an attitude at the right time, a virtuous person must know he is doing the right thing at the right time. And he must intend it. Let’s say that Uncle Scrooge walks past the orphanage, and while quickening his pace to avoid a volunteer collecting donations, he trips on a cobblestone. Some change he was gripping tightly happens to fly into the collection bucket. The volunteer profusely thanks Scrooge for his generosity, while Scrooge screws his face in dismay. First, Scrooge may not have known it was right to donate his change then. Second, from what we know of him, and his reaction, we conclude he didn’t intend to donate. If you know the episode “Jaynestown” from the TV show Firefly, you have another example of this. No knowledge, no intention, no virtue.
As the study itself acknowledges, the child subjects are still developing. For all we know, they don’t know that they are behaving virtuously as opposed to just doing what feels good. We know nothing of their parents’ theology, ideology, or worldview besides the labels the researchers choose to categorize them by. Without interviewing the subject, a scientist can’t accurately describe the subject’s motive. He can impose his explanation upon what he observes, but this fails to take the subject’s life of the mind seriously. Whatever else the researchers are trying to do, it isn’t research about morality.
What if Altruists are Suckers?
Granted the idea of virtue and vice, can there be such a thing as too much generosity? If we take the consequence of evolutionary behavior as the standard for morality, it’s certainly possible. Spurred by the evolutionary game theory in Richard Dawkins’ The Selfish Gene, philosopher J. L. Mackie proposed that altruistic behavior could be counterproductive for the survival of a species.[1] He relates this in an evolutionary survival game where a species of birds has developed the behavior of grooming each other in order to remove pesky bugs they can’t reach on the back of their own heads. An individual bird of the species can exhibit one of three types of behavior: sucker, cheat, or grudger. A sucker always grooms another bird no matter what. A cheat loves to be groomed, but never grooms another bird in return. A grudger grooms another bird, but will stop grooming another bird that takes advantage of her generosity. If the population is mostly grudgers, then cheats won’t thrive. But if there are enough “altruistic” suckers, grudgers could proliferate, even to the point where their “selfish” behavior drives the species extinct.
Mackie suggests that altruism may not be the most moral attitude after all. He identifies himself as a grudger: tit for tat, eye for an eye. It appeals to the innate sense of justice. After all, under normal circumstances, who would let a murderer go free? The secular children in the altruism study more arguably would do so, perhaps thinking they are being kind by overlooking another’s trespass. In this case, Mackie and thoughtful people might side with the Muslim children in their assessment of the appropriate punishment and who is more “moral.” Now the study doesn’t give us a clear sense of what degree of punishment is appropriate or virtuous. It hints that assigning “harsher” punishment is less moral, but why that would be the case is unclear.
So in sum, the altruism study and articles reporting on it miss two important things. First, because there is no ethical framework in view, we have no evaluative context for the children’s actions, and no actual understanding of their motivations. Instead, it is assumed that generous behavior is what makes for morality, and that desiring a wrongdoer be punished is a moral failing. But these assumptions are far from granted for critically thinking people. Second, the study fails to acknowledge an evolutionary scenario where altruism can be counterproductive. Instead of research and journalism that takes these two realities seriously, we have fodder for fit for the social media one-upmanship that fuels the spurious science-versus-religion narrative.
PS: With respect to the “dictator game” the experimenters conduct with sticker allocation, check out this blog post citing a study where the validity of dictator games are undermined by “experimenter demand effects.”
[1] Mackie, J. L.. 1978. “The Law of the Jungle: Moral Alternatives and Principles of Evolution”. Philosophy 53 (206). Cambridge University Press: 455–64. http://www.jstor.org/stable/3749875.
January 4, 2014 15 Comments
In a new year’s post, Adam Frank of 13.7 invites us to contemplate our place in the cosmos. The professional stargazer asks, “What, really, is the point of it all?” He directs us foremost not to religion, or to philosophy, but to Carl Sagan. Cue a four minute animation set to Sagan’s famous reflection on “the pale blue dot.” Frank insists that “it will fill you with a sense of pure wonder.” This invitation is too good to pass up.
This Voyager 1 photo of Earth as a pale blue dot, suspended in a sunbeam, captured the world’s imagination in the 1990s. | Wikimedia
But after watching it, I fail to feel wonder at the late Dr. Sagan’s deprecation of the human race. Sagan insists of humanity, “Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light.” In virtue of what principle does the pale blue dot challenge human importance and privilege?
Further, by what authority does Dr. Sagan diminish his fellow man as deluded? John writes in his first epistle, “If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.” Is Sagan’s brand of collective anthropic humility more palatable to some because it issues from a 20th century modernist tribe rather than a first century religious one? A defender of Sagan’s myth would have to ironically claim some sort of epistemic privilege as well as self-importance.
The four minute animation–at one point summing the human condition via battling tanks with “H8” painted on their sides–concludes with these words:
It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.
Now I wholeheartedly agree that we have an imperative to be kinder and preserve our home, the Earth. If one wants to hold a sense of wonder from passing judgment on fellow human beings and thinking that reality consists chiefly in void, empty space, and is merely the curious fractional remnant of a clash between matter and antimatter, he or she is entitled. But moral responsibilities and good feelings do not automatically follow from such a vision; it may as well be just another unreasoned affectation, a tribal confession.
In light of entropy, mortality, and the heat death of the Universe, Bertrand Russell provides a logically consistent outlook: “only on the firm foundation of unyielding despair, can the soul’s habitation henceforth be safely built.”
Possibly, Sagan’s pale blue dot really is the vaunted God’s eye view. But if there were anyone who could speak to humanity depravity and conceit with logical consistency, we should not be surprised when he self-importantly declares, “Very truly, I tell you, before Abraham was, I am.”
September 21, 2013 2 Comments
Predication can be bruising at venues like Parliamentary Question Time. | UK Parliament / Foter / CC BY-NC-ND
Last month, I posted a critique of Dr. Tania Lombrozo’s interlinked think pieces at Boston Review and 13.7. I was gratified but slightly apprehensive when she linked back with a post titled, Science Vs. Religion: A Heated Debate Fueled By Disrespect. To boot, a photo of a South Asian firebreather accompanied the text! Granted, editors sometimes make decisions not always in accord with the writer’s wishes. Still, I wondered, what kind of splash did I make on the inner life of this cognitive scientist? From what Dr. Lombrozo wrote of my critique, I think I acquitted myself well.
Before I comment further on this interaction, I must congratulate Dr. Lombrozo for undertaking a couple of posts on charitable discourse. In her aforementioned post, I got to serve as a counterweight to biologist Jerry Coyne, one of the staunchest defenders of evolution. A comment on his blog accused her of being an “accomodationalist,” a scientific Nevil Chamberlain, an appeaser. Needless to say, her post generated hundreds more heated comments by the clamorous content consumers at 13.7.
But then with her subsequent blog entry, Dr. Lombrozo came back with a real shocker. She shared an academic paper authored by Lara Buchak, a Berkeley philosopher of religion. Buchak asked, “Can it be rational to have faith?” I particularly enjoyed the explication, because Buchak’s theory of decision making is based on a general assumption that human persons are more or less rational. Quite possibly, that could even apply to nomadic Iron Age sheep herders! I can see religious epistemologists–philosophers like Alvin Plantinga, Paul Moser, and Richard Swinburne–having fun engaging with Buchak’s work.
The assumption that humans are innately, even unconsciously and unwittingly, reasonable is a counter-intuitive antidote to the popular belief that today, we’re somehow automatically smarter than our ancestors. It also matches the underlying premises of my college two majors, international relations and economics. If you want to know what a rational actor or a utility-maximizing agent is, crack open the textbooks of those disciplines. As I received them at UC Davis a decade ago, the operative principles of those fields were still firmly rooted in mid- to late Enlightenment thought. No special taint of phenomenologies, Higher Criticisms, or other products of Teutonic intellectual degeneracy.
That being said, my interest in Continental philosophy, the brainchild of Kant, Hegel, Marx, et al. has grown over the years. Perhaps the best place for common, “charitable ground” as Lombrozo tagged it, is to be found there. Recently, I discovered that Dallas Willard, a widely admired evangelical teacher and popular author, cut his philosophical teeth on the work of logician Edmund Husserl. Dr. Willard even drew upon him when contributing to a collection of essays on Derrida! There, he critiqued Derrida’s conception of “Predication as Originary Violence.” Are you totally lost yet?
So what of that tangle between Lombrozo and myself? In “Science Vs. Religion,” she observes that my reading of her piece as “‘a rational argument discounting a certain strain of creationism’ . . . suggests an antecedent assumption of hostility.” I would agree with this! But only in a limited sense. I think “hostility” is best understood as a state of affairs between persons proper. But a close reading of both my critique and her response will show careful wording that produces not interpersonal hostility, but sets up an adversarial contest between ideas. William Lane Craig observed recently at Reasonable Faith (Are Debates too Polarizing?) that in academia, the relationship between two different theses apprehending the same object is inherently “agonistic,” or competitive.
If predication is an assignment or affirmation about an antecedent object–the possible intent behind a person’s words–then it is only the mind of the reader that can predicate hostility. Ugliness is in the eye of the beholder. To practice charity in discussion, then, is to refrain, if possible, from assigning malevolence to the author’s intent.
I suspect that awareness of the nature of intent is something Dr. Willard took away from his reading of the Biblical Jesus. In the gospel of John, again and again Jesus masterfully avoids the snares of his questioners, whether his disciples, the Pharisees, or Pontius Pilate. The question is answered with another question; inquiry is turned back on itself. Is there a more radical skepticism than that? “Who do you say that I am?” On Christianity, the divine nature–perhaps the goodness of freedom of the will–is of such weight that the answer to Jesus’ question is only found in one’s own predication.
And so it might be for us. To avoid violence against the other as she actually is, we judge the merit of the idea, not the motive of the person. Is there any better way to collaborate in reconciling our disparate ideas to objective reality?
August 22, 2013 6 Comments
Photo credit: tk-link / Foter / CC BY-NC-SA
Tania Lombrozo, cognitive scientist and regular contributor to NPR’s 13.7 science blog, recently asked a thought provoking question: “Is There Existential Meaning Beyond Religion?” It turns out her post asks readers to click through and comment on another article of her’s in the Boston Review, which the editors captioned, “Can Science Deliver the Benefits of Religion?” The way this discourse is set up seems to be a prime example of the serious, self-inflicted challenge that contemporary science popularizers and educators face.
Dr. Lombrozo’s piece in the Review is perfectly intelligble but structurally incoherent. In the first half, she presents various explanations as to why 43 percent of Americans surveyed reject human evolution in favor of a “creationist” account. Then, in the second half, she examines whether affirmations of faith in science can be as psychologically beneficial as affirmations of religious faith. The two tasks the author undertakes aren’t necessarily related. From a literary stand point, we have to ask, what is meaning of the piece as a unified whole?
If we to try identify the intent behind the first half of Lombrozo’s piece, we could choose to consider it as a rational argument discounting a certain strain of creationism. Alternately, it is simply an account from her own experience as a scientist who explains how people arrive at explanations. Here’s how she sums her explanations in one sentence:
It may be that assorted mental dispositions and shortcomings—a preference for teleology, hyperactive agency detection, anxiety concerning death, psychological essentialism, a preference for order and control, an unhealthy fascination with human uniqueness, and the naturalistic fallacy all wed to what psychologists call “motivated reasoning”—are enough to explain people’s rejection of human evolution in favor of some form of creationism.
Taking the author’s collection of explanations as evidence for the falsity of creationism would beget one giant genetic fallacy. Offering six, seven, or a million explanations for how someone came to hold a belief does not falsify the belief itself. Further, with a little tweaking, these same explanations could be applied to the explainer! I am not defending the type of creationist belief Lombrozo wants to explain away. Rather, I’m asking what those explanations have to do with the latter part of her article, which explores where existential satisfaction comes from.
In the privately published Boston Review, which caters to a specific political leaning and cultural outlook, it would make sense for Lombrozo to attribute mental shortcomings to those she disagrees with. But Lombrozo has shared her musings on 13.7, a blog hosted by publicly sponsored NPR. Why would she submit what amounts to a naturalistic pep rally, or a scientistic preaching to the choir, to this broader forum?
If the contributors at 13.7 are civic-minded proponents who advocate greater public understanding and acceptance of science–as at least one of them seems to be–they would do better not to assume their readers share their metaphysical prejudices. As a thoughtful Christian and curious human being, I peruse 13.7 to see how the scientific community engages robust concepts and challenges from the humanities, philosophy, and culture. In the many posts I’ve read now, I find the writers ardent in their defense of scientific integrity, but fairly sloppy or else standoffish as they steer around any logically plausible indicators of supernatural reality. The dead zone where Lombrozo and her colleagues fear to tread inclines me to believe that these freethinkers operate a sort of faith-based church for mystical naturalists.
If a cohort of elite academics is going to muse on “Cosmos and Culture,” wouldn’t we all be better served by more frequent and deeper interactions with rational, if non-naturalistic epistemologies and bodies of knowledge? I know of a couple good places (here and here) where they could start.
August 2, 2013 21 Comments
At first glance, this recent headline from Inside Higher Ed looks like a piece of good news: “Taking a Stand for Science.” Or, consider the alternate title, “Scientists Applaud Ball State President’s Position on Intelligent Design.” Fighting for truth, and earning accolades are good, right? To the contrary, the university’s mandate is of grave concern for those who value critical inquiry and academic freedom.
(Wikimedia Commons)
The story is that, after an inquest by an appointed faculty panel, Ball State physics professor Eric Hedin will take remedial measures to ensure that his course, The Boundaries of Science, will be in line with Ball State’s “view that science instruction should be about science and not religion.” This scrutiny results from a complaint and threat of legal action by the Freedom From Religion Foundation.
On Wednesday, University President Jo Ann Gora released a statement reading, in part:
Intelligent design is overwhelmingly deemed by the scientific community as a religious belief and not a scientific theory. Therefore, intelligent design is not appropriate content for science courses. The gravity of this issue and the level of concern among scientists are demonstrated by more than 80 national and state scientific societies’ independent statements that intelligent design and creation science do not qualify as science. The list includes societies such as the National Academy of Sciences, the American Association for the Advancement of Science, theAmerican Astronomical Society, and the American Physical Society.
What’s striking about the Inside Higher Ed article is it’s uncritical coverage of the university’s decision. To the author’s credit, she inserts virtually zero commentary; the piece is straight reporting. But, the bias lies in her decision to cite President Gora, and two supportive partisans, while only featuring one voice of opposition.
Sadly, the author does not provide comments from informed outsiders on the issue proper. What do philosophers of science and religion think of President Gora’s ruling? What about Constitutional scholars and experts in academic freedom issues? We’re left with a “she said, he said,” tilted three to one.
In terms of information, the article leaves much to be desired. What does the Ball State administration mean by “teach,” “science,” and “religion?” Do Neo-Darwinian mechanisms credibly explain the origin of phyla, or might they be the same kind of “speculation” that Gora alleges intelligent design to be? Why does religion “have its place” in the social sciences and humanities, but the scientific establishment gets to determine not just what is science, but what is “religion” as well? While the report remains under wraps, it looks as if scientism is bullying the ivory tower. Thanks to the ever-handy threat of litigation.
As for intelligent design itself, I don’t see what’s religious about the theory, or how it’s not a hypothesis that’s at least a valid candidate for becoming a scientific theory. Stephen Meyer advances a case for ID as science in Darwin’s Doubt. In making the radio interview rounds, I’ve heard him repeatedly describe the theory as an inference to the best explanation, drawn from uniform and repeated experience. These same inference principles are used in evolutionary anthropology, forensic science, and the increasingly popular study of animal cognition. Maybe these are just speculations that have their place too.
Given that ID draws from the same fossil record used to support the Neo-Darwinian synthesis, it certainly seems that its proponents will be able to make predictions with respect to future discoveries.
If we are to take the thesis of Alvin Plantinga’s Where the Conflict Really Lies seriously, a case could be made that some retrenched Neo-Darwinian defenders are propagating a religion of metaphysical naturalism. This is an unnecessary step beyond the epistemic naturalism that has been a cornerstone of modern science.
If Ball State is in danger of transgressing upon the First Amendment, it is for establishing a church of atheism, consistent with the beliefs and dogma of the Freedom from Religion Foundation. As John West at the Discovery Institute points out, FFRF initiated this scrutiny to squelch critical inquiry–essential to academic freedom–in the name of Neo-Darwinian orthodoxy. He finds the move is simply Orwellian.
Meanwhile, Wintery Knight characterizes Ball State’s clamp down as an inquisition. This is sufficient, but to describe Ball State’s retrograde policy as McCarthyism or a witch hunt would be just as apt.
February 3, 2012 2 Comments
At some point, you’ve likely heard the lament that the world would be better off without religion. You may have even unwittingly imbibed it this past New Year’s Eve, when Cee Lo Green covered John Lennon’s classic hit “Imagine.” The song starts famously:
Imagine there’s no heaven
It’s easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people living for today
And in due course the listener is asked to imagine a world with “no religion too.” What better way to kick off 2012? I’m sure Times Square’s officiants Lady Gaga and Michael Bloomberg approve wholeheartedly.
Beyond the pop culture realm, but still in the confines of Manhattan, the Oxford-style debate forum Intelligence Squared US picked up on the same theme this October past. For some time I’ve heard bits of their debates on NPR, but only recently did I bother to get the podcast. Naturally floating to the top of my queue was the episode featuring the resolution, “The World Would Be Better Off Without Religion.”
The debate, held before an audience at New York University, was remarkable in that the pro- and con- teams were prohibited from discussing the existence of God. At first this might seem absurd; whether God exists or not is patently germane to the question of religion. But the imposed restriction has the benefit of allowing the debaters to focus neatly on the social ramifications of religion.
Consider what religion is in the restricted sense of the debate: moral beliefs with social consequences, that happen to be theistic. Then listen to the debate participants in action, and the chief complaint becomes clear: people kill and oppress others on the basis of differing moral beliefs. So, would any hypothetical, religion-free world be better? No. We would only be exchanging a world filled with a diverse array of theistic moral belief for a world filled with a diverse array of atheistic moral belief. That people hold moral beliefs, and differ from each other on those beliefs are immutable elements of humanity. So is the fact that we are social creatures. We cannot escape each other. I suppose we can imagine a world of people in secluded pods, or one solely populated by clones, or else a world that is entirely monocultural. But most people would rightly see such worlds as deeply impoverished and no improvement over our own. An inescapable part of being human is living in a world with others who hold to different “oughts” and “ought nots.”
Let’s move from possible worlds to the historical record. For thousands of years, religion has presided over mankind, such that any given killer, oppressor, or victim for that matter, could in some sense be tagged by us as “religious.” Only after the Enlightenment do we start to see significant cases of self-identified irreligious individuals. All we need is one instance where an atheist kills another atheist on the basis of differing morality to obliterate the idea that religion is uniquely harmful. Consider who swung the ice pick that killed Leon Trotsky. It seems someone thought he “ought” not have disobeyed Stalin. Purging religion only allows new types of contentious belief to crop up and take its place. Religion doesn’t kill or oppress people, human wickedness does. Christians rightly recognize this as sin nature.
So, how did the Intelligence Squared debate turn out? The pro-side, making the case things would be better without religion, persuaded more audience members at the end and thereby won. Unfortunately, the con- debaters Dinesh D’Souza and Rabbi David Wolpe failed to decisively isolate the social idea of “religion” from man’s underlying wickedness. But even if they effectively made that case, what other outcome could we expect from public broadcast patrons congregated in a New York university performing arts center?
That the finger of blame could be pointed toward oneself has been thoroughly expunged from our culture today. It’s easier for some just to chalk our problems up to some conception of a social condition called “religion.”