I don’t think so. If such debates were futile, I wouldn’t bother blogging about religion. But these two videos do a great job of explaining why arguments for atheism/theism often fail to persuade.
Hat-tip to Common Sense Atheism.
I don’t think so. If such debates were futile, I wouldn’t bother blogging about religion. But these two videos do a great job of explaining why arguments for atheism/theism often fail to persuade.
Hat-tip to Common Sense Atheism.
Thanks for sharing the videos, they were very interesting and mind-opening for me.
As to the video’s conclusions- that a rejection of religious beliefs are more based on an intellectual consider and those with religious beliefs draw these conclusions on core beliefs, rather than argument- I have my own two cents to add:
1. If we were to do a poll of the general population, I would guess that the author would be correct. However, I think that is mostly due to the fact that more people are born into religious homes than non-religious homes, thus forming their core beliefs around the beliefs of their family. Percentage-wise, it seems that most non-theists come from religious backgrounds, thus requiring them to go through an intellectual process in order to exchange an old belief for a new one. If the situation were flipped and we lived in a nation of non-believers, perhaps the results would be different. However, this might not change, simply because belief requires emotional connection to the transcendent, so perhaps it’s very nature has an origin outside of the realm of reason.
2. I would also contend that perhaps a consideration of non-theism must come from a particular set of fundamental beliefs- either adopted or challenged. I won’t try and speak for anyone here, but for me these beliefs were: An adoption of the belief that reason and science were not only useful, but the best ways to explain reality, and an exchange of theism for humanism. I do not mean to suggest that theists reject either of those beliefs, and I think that you can be a humanist and use reason to adopt religion. For me, though, once I held up a new faith in reason and humanism against the evidence (or lack thereof) for my religion and its responses to the problem of evil, I began to consider other paths.
If such debates were futile, I wouldn’t bother blogging about religion.
The dangerously assumes that if such debates were futile, you’d recognize it, and then change your behavior accordingly.
Dangerously assumes? Ha ha. That may be an assumption, but a dangerous one? Nah.
And why wouldn’t I be able to recognize whether religious arguments persuade? People have told me that they’ve changed certain opinions because of this blog, and I have likewise changed my mind about some things because of interactions at this blog. Thus, I think it’s safe for me to conclude that religious debates are NOT totally futile.
someone once told me something like…
“We’re all liars, but the person who knows he’s lying simply hides the truth; the person who doesn’t know he’s lying forgets where he put the truth.”
it was pithier than that, of course.
ugg no man nose my history :0)
Anyway, what I mean is, it’s certainly possible that you could have confirmation bias (e.g., hearing about someone changing their mind sticks out a lot more than plenty of people who go about their way believing the same stuff) or are confusing yourself for others (sometimes, it’s a problem to view yourself as exceptional…but other times, it’s a problem to view yourself as exactly the same as everyone else.)
I tend to say that, regardless of the value of religious debates, it’s easy to be optimistic and try them because one *wants* to believe that they are effective, even if they may not be.
I agree with Kellie on all accounts, wow. With respect to point 1 in particular, I would want to emphasize the point about theism often emphasizing an emotional connection with the transcendent. To speak about this being irrelevant or unreliable *already* poisons the well. Why would someone poison the well like this?
Because ding ding ding, point 2. Fundamental beliefs about reason, naturalism, etc., etc.,
I don’t know how YoutubeGuy can begin to make a case about who engages more often in intellectual consideration and who relies more on “faith seeking understanding” without decoupling what exactly counts as intellectual consideration *from* foundational beliefs.
While useful in mainstreaming secular mockery and indifference to religion, much needed in our over-religious democracy, religious debates are also worse than futile to the extent that they distract unbelievers from more profitably investing their attention to moral psychology, neuroscience, social psychology, anthropology and other sciences’ explanatory-debunking applications to religion, instead of wasting to so much time on the surface phenomena of mere propositional contents and eternally inexhaustible sophistries of religious discourse and doctrines.
A related opinion piece in the NY Times today by Gary Gutting (philosophy professor from Notre Dame):
http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/08/01/philosophy-and-faith/?hp
An excerpt:
” The standard view is that philosophers’ disagreements over arguments about God make their views irrelevant to the faith of ordinary believers and non-believers. The claim seems obvious: if we professionals can’t agree among ourselves, what can we have to offer to non-professionals? An appeal to experts requires consensus among those experts, which philosophers don’t have.
…
In these popular debates about God’s existence, the winners are neither theists nor atheists, but agnostics — the neglected step-children of religious controversy, who rightly point out that neither side in the debate has made its case.”
I enjoyed the video, even if the speaker is working just too hard to speak slowly.
I think he is right, I suspect that a great many religious believers have not had a sophisticated deliberative process as part of their coming to or appropriating their religious beliefs. And I think atheists are more likely to have had some deliberative process be a part of shaping their core beliefs. Having said that, I think the either/or – either a deliberate process or mere defense of core beliefs (which have been arrived at by some other non-deliberative process, something like emotional experience, etc) – is too tidy.
Following the speaker, I will appeal to my own experience. I was an atheist, later became a theist and then later became a Catholic (after a brief detour as an Episcopalian). My conversion story (which was somewhat remarkable if only because I was so militantly atheist) is a mixed story – a deliberative process was an extremely important part of my becoming a theist, but there were many other factors.
Looking back on my own experience, here is how I end up thinking about it: arguments about the existence or nature of God by themselves don’t persuade anyone of anything. I have not yet met a person who became a theist solely because of the ontological or cosmological arguments. But those arguments did move me. I think they cultivated the soil a bit. They say you can lead a horse to water but you cannot make him drink. I think that is true, but if you lead a horse to water and he ends up getting thirsty, it will be very good for him to be standing in front of a pond. That is what religious argument did for me. Prior to reading Aquinas, prior to my experiences with Fr. Tacelli, Peter Kreeft, and Fred Lawrence at Boston College, being a theist (much less a Catholic) was simply inconceivable to me. I thought theists were morons who thought the moon was made of cheese. Reading Aquinas and dear friendships with intelligent religious friends and professors made me realize that being a theist did not mean simply forsaking reason. A door had been opened, a possibility made available.
In short, religious arguments did not persuade me by themselves, but they primed the pump. They made theism a genuine possibility for me, when it had not been before. After that came just a lot of self-reflection and some moments of grace. I did not have a single conversion moment like you hear some born-agains describing. I slowly came to see that I was a shallow man with a shallow view of life. And I slowly fell into believing. ‘Fell into’ is really the right phrase for it. It was not solely a deliberative process, it involved various personal and emotional experiences. But the process was certainly not devoid of deliberation, in fact philosophical deliberation was an enormous part of my conversion.
I recognize that most believers have not had this experience. My experience might even be described as quite unique. But I think it is important to recognize that this either/or in the video was just too tidy. He made it sound like he arrived at atheism through an almost pure deliberative process. I rather suspect it is common for atheists to have had the experience that I had (in the other direction). A mix between a deliberative process that raised questions and possibilities, along with personal and emotional experiences. At some point there is a break or a shift, and one finds himself with different core beliefs. But, as one can easily see from most posters on atheist blogs, this are not agents of pure reason – there is considerable emotional baggage and motives for atheism arising from frankly base passions. They’ve probably had some arguments helped them along the way or raised new possibilities for them. But all of the name-calling and over-heated rhetoric suggests that there are powerful thumotic and appetitive forces at work, not simply rational deliberation.
In short, psychology matters (I’ve been re-reading some selections from the Republic in preparation for fall teaching, and that text is just so full of insights on these matters – that understanding is only a possibility when the soil/soul has been properly cultivated with core beliefs that are not, at first, known but rather simply believed and even “indoctrinated”). But psychologies can change, and I think arguments can do some of the lifting, even some of the heavy lifting, in terms of opening up those possibilities. This was my experience. It is the reason I engage on this blog – to open up possibilities.
Yours is an interesting account Kleiner. I’m not sure I know anyone else who has gone from non-theism to theism. I’m sure there are many, but I personally do not know any. As you are the main/only theist on this blog, can I ask, could an argument persuade you back to non-theism, or do you have a more secure foundation for your faith than the shifting sands of evidence and argument?
The claim to be a prior true-believer, whether going atheist to theist or the other way around has almost become cliche. I don’t think I have ever read a notable atheist conversion from lukewarm piety or a theist conversion from doubtful skeptic, though presumably it happens all the time. Francis Collins was apparently a committed skeptic before being born again, though on reading his books I’ve noted that he “church-shopped” before settling for Evangelicalism. If people are honest I think they will see that the writing was on the wall long before they “converted” or “de-converted.”
I suppose I should consider myself lucky. Outside juvenile “Please God, if X happens I’ll be good…” I have never believed in any religion. I have always, innately, been atheistic.
I disagree, Hunt, on your ‘if people are honest with themselves’ point. I am a reasonably self-aware and self-reflective person, and so I think I am being honest when I say the writing was not on the wall at all. I was raised by atheists and my atheism was so militant I might have made some SHAFTers blush.
I think there is something about people who run hot in either direction. See this article on Hitchens that I recently posted on another stream:
http://www.thecatholicthing.org/columns/2010/hitch-lives.html
Great and passionate skeptics can become great and passionate believers, and vice versa.
I don’t think you’ve read any notable conversions from lukewarm piety or skepticism because those conversions are not, in a sense, as notable. Lukewarm folks just don’t care enough to be passionate on either side, or to be moved from one side or the other (since they don’t passionately occupy a side to begin with). Anyway, maybe I am a cliche. Oh well. There is always the extraordinary embedded in the ordinary.
Joe – Could an argument persuade me back to atheism? I am a confident believer, but have my dark nights when I must pray “Lord I believe, help my unbelief!” But right now I cannot imagine what argument could turn me back (of course, I would have said the same thing when I was an atheist and someone had asked me the question in the other direction). Given my fairly high commitment to the synthesis of faith and reason, I do my level best to take arguments very seriously. If it could be shown that my faith committed me to beliefs that are flatly contrary to reason (logically impossibilities, etc), then I would be very deeply troubled. (Aquinas argues that this would be impossible, that no sound argument could ever be leveled against a doctrine of the faith). But while religious argument was a big part of my conversion, it is not the only ground from which I believe. Faith is not something that one produces in oneself through effort or argument, it is a gift. And, as I said above, discursive reasoning is only a part of my (and I think anyone else’s) belief formation. Having received a great gift, it is hard to imagine what would incline me to begin refusing it.
One more thought. Strangely enough, Heidegger was a big part of my conversion. Heidegger, even if this lesson was not one he intended to teach (though I think it might have been), really got me started in understanding what it means to think about things sacramentally. Once I had developed a “sacramental consciousness”, I did not church shop at all.
Some people are so blatant about their non-deliberation, that they will admit their open “belief in belief,” or the social necessity of belief. I clearly remember a radio interview where a woman church-shopped for her son and herself and decided on Catholicism because she “liked the fact that there was a body on the cross.”
The problem with taking conversion or “de-conversion” accounts very seriously, despite their sincerity, is that, again, such attention distracts from getting at the deeper sources behind either process, neither of which we have much reason to believe is tracked by our demonstrably paltry introspective capabilities. Atheists just make the problem worse when they preen themselves on having emancipated themselves from the clutches of piety through some laudable and arduous exercise of their supposedly superior reasoning faculties.
Is there no room for exploring the lived “human questions”, Rob? I posted about this recently on the usuphil blog, I am just so unmoved by this desire to set aside human questions in our rush to explain everything away with our reduced materialist psychologies. The inadequacy of such accounts is just so obvious to me. Do you make room, for instance, for phenomenological investigations of such things?
Here’s one form of reply: [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D12otRtAT9s]
the best youtube comment I have read:
“this guy subsumes subjective experience under an empirical reality which is only a concept in his head anyway. what a dope.”
That is a good and funny comment; and I of course invoke this scene from “Palindromes” (the most honestly balanced feature film I Know of that addresses abortion, impartially showering its cynicism as it does on all parties) as a facetious reply to Kleiner. My point, really, is to suggest that that character’s glum deflection of “the human questions” beats the hell out of the self-indulgent (and, in my less guarded moments inclined to add, unmanly) prolixity that typifies those who put much value on their “conversion” or “deconversion” narratives, illustrating Galen Strawson’s observation that much religious belief is really “all about self”:
>> Religious belief is one of the fundamental vehicles of human narcissism (clearly a
sense of one’s own importance is much more likely to be the cause of religious belief in
someone who has come to religion than in someone who has been born into it). <<
http://lchc.ucsd.edu/mca/Paper/against_narrativity.pdf
While the taking up of human questions can be self-indulgent and even unmanly, I don’t think it is necessarily so. In fact, one of the things I appreciate so much about Nz is that he is an atheist who does not ignore or deflect the human questions. He takes them up in earnest and in what must be called an extremely manly way. I would say the same thing about Heidegger.
I agree that conversion stories can be narcissistic. But are Augustine’s Confessions an unmanly and narcissistic conversion story? I sure as hell don’t think so! But the Confessions are not written to himself and only secondarily to other people. They are written to God. They are also written for others. Augustine himself notes they are written for “a people curious to know the lives of others, but careless to amend their own” and “are meant to excite the minds and affections of people towards God.”
The conceit of writing to God does seem to me like a pretext of vanity, which fits nicely as an instance of the paradox involved in condemning pride that Augustine, in Book X of the Confessions, identifies in himself.
On the occasions that I share my conversion story, I do so out of feelings of friendship. Aristotle says in the Nicomachean Ethics that there is a natural friendship among all people (“Certainly in one’s wanderings one will see that every man is an acquaintance and friend of every other man.”). Aquinas, in his Commentary on the Nicomachean Ethics, adds “this is most clear when the path is uncertain, for everyone calls back even an unknown and foreign stranger from going the wrong way, as if every man is naturally an acquaintance and a friend of every other man.” As we travel through life together, it is out of friendship and fellow-feeling that we call back those who have become lost.
I suspect that many theists and atheists who share their conversion/de-conversion stories share them out of this motivation. If you think there is some hidden narcissism, pride, or unmanliness in this, that is your affair.
All of that said, I agree that a considerable part of the pomo obsession with “narrativity” is indulgent and unmanly.
Clearly, friendship is for women.
[/snark]
Oh, I wasn’t criticizing you, Kleiner. Your self-accounting is garnished with so much erudition and self-awareness that it probably tracks more of the actual processes effectively at work than most people’s, though still subject to the same caveats I’ve already suggested.
I did not take what you said personally, Rob. I’m thankfully not subjected to many “chicken soup for the soul”-type conversion stories, but if I were I suspect I would parrot some of your comments. (I have heard from ex-Mormons that this is what is so tortuous about the LDS meetings where people share their “stories”, that one often gets the feeling that those meetings are more about those people just wanting to hear themselves somewhat narcissistically recite their own personal “narrative”).
I was simply trying to come to the defense of sharing these conversion and de-conversion stories, particularly if they are shared in the right way and for the right reasons. I don’t think you are right that sharing these stories always and simply diverts our attention from allegedly more important tasks (though maybe you never really made that sweeping of a claim to begin with).
I don’t actually remember ever determining whether I wanted to be non- or theist until someone specifically started questioning me about it later in life.
I’m sure my upbringing has left it’s mark – opposed to a different or non-religious childhood that could have been – but I don’t recall my exact process to non- or belief. Perhaps despite being raised by a theistic family, my fundamental beliefs never drifted toward a matching set. I did not intentionally reason out why I didn’t believe, but can think the process through now and provide pointers on why I don’t. This may have been only after hearing reasons from others, though, and not my actual process.
As usual, everything needing saying has already been said, with peerless concision, by Nietzsche (“An affectation on departing”):
http://books.google.com/books?id=Nl-vaAdJD3MC&lpg=PP1&dq=human%20and%20too%20and%20cambridge%20and%20nietzsche&pg=PA330#v=onepage&q=an%20affectation%20on%20departing&f=false
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