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The Atheists Strike Back • A Goff of Limited Power • Since You Asked • The Problem Is The Medium • Ducking Responsibility • What About Compassion?

The Atheists Strike Back

Dear Editor: I have problems with Anselm’s ontological argument which was summarised in Issue 165. It’s: ‘God is the greatest; It is greater to exist than not exist; Therefore God exists’. The first premise is an unevidenced assertion which implies the conclusion. And ‘greatest’ is meaningful only in relation to a defined scale of value. It sometimes means ‘biggest’; but we might speak of the greatest wine or the greatest marathon runner. So what sense of ‘greatness’ is Anselm talking about?

Don Cameron, Portishead, Bristol

Dear Editor: In Andrew Likoudis’s article entitled ‘A Critique of Pure Atheism’ in Issue 165, in a box, you [Grant Bartley] summarise ‘Three Philosophical Arguments For God’. You comment regarding the Ontological Argument: “it’s difficult to pin down exactly what’s wrong with this approach, if anything.” I’ve read this sort of comment on the Ontological Argument many times, with ever increasing incredulity. This is because it’s actually easy to pin down what’s wrong with it! The argument begins with a definition of God. Then there’s a short, and, as far as I can see, credible argument, to the effect that, in order to be self-consistent, the definition of God must be a definition of a being that exists. But nowhere is there a link between this idea of a God who exists, and the existence of an actual God! Surely this failure of the Ontological Argument to lead anywhere should be obvious? Please tell me if I’m wrong.

For Likoudis, an atheist is someone who believes he can prove the nonexistence of God. However, I, as an atheist, know I cannot call upon either empirical evidence or logical argument to disprove God’s existence. But so what? Has Andrew not heard of Russell’s teapot? Russell wrote that if he were to assert that a teapot too small to be seen by telescopes orbits the Sun somewhere between the Earth and Mars, he couldn’t expect people to believe him solely because his assertion couldn’t be disproven.

Of course, Likoudis does assert the existence of “overwhelming philosophical and historical evidence for God’s existence.” What is this evidence? He mentions the Moral, Cosmological, and Ontological Arguments, which you helpfully summarise. But the Moral Argument relies upon unsubstantiated assertions, such as ‘without God there are no grounds for objective morality’. Likewise the Cosmological Argument. As I say, the Ontological Argument concludes that the idea of God must be an idea of an existent entity, but the idea of an existent identity is not the same thing as an actual existent entity.

Anyway, as an atheist I do not waste my time trying to persuade theists of the errors in their thinking [such as by writing letters to philosophy magazines? Ed]. Disproof is not a necessity for me. All that is necessary for me is the lack of any reason I can accept to give the God hypothesis serious consideration. And for that, the lack of empirical evidence will suffice. Meanwhile, Likoudis dismisses empirical considerations because ‘God is not an object to be observed’.

Dave Mangnall, Cheshire

Dear Editor: Amrit Pathak’s ‘Exploring Atheism’ and Musa Mumtaz’s ‘Medieval Islam and the Nature of God’ in PN 165 provide a thought-provoking juxtaposition. I place a high premium on rational evidence-based thinking, and therefore agree with the secular humanists up to point – but they’re mistaken in their assumption that theirs is the only rational show in town. Other ways of thinking are perfectly valid in their own terms. For example, Mumtaz wrote of Suhravardi and Ibn Arabi, both visionary thinkers; but Suhravardi was a master of Aristotelian logic; and according to William Chittick, Ibn Arabi was not just some mystic – he was the most significant thinker in the second half of Islamic history. If we allow alternative ways of thinking to atrophy, we become symbolically impoverished. Then, as sure as night follows day, cults of unreason fill the vacuum.

For anyone who wants to explore this field from a philosophical perspective, I would recommend Toshiko Izutsu’s Key Concepts in Sufism and Taoism (1992), in which Izutsu explores Ibn Arabi, Lao Tzu, and Chuang Tzu. He is an exceptionally lucid thinker, and he uncovers the same underlying logic operating in both China and the Islamic world.

Fred Burnston

Dear Editor: The authors of the first two articles in the theme of ‘The Return of God’ in Issue 165 both make valid points which are not addressed by the other. For example, Amrit Pathak, a committed atheist, argues that our standards of morality can be derived from empathy, and from the concern to win praise. Such a mechanism is described by Adam Smith in The Theory of Moral Sentiments (1759), and this behaviour is in principle natural, in no need of divine sanction. Andrew Likoudis, a theist, then explains that reasoning without reference to empirical data is appropriate when applied to phenomena which transcend the physical world or constitute its ground of being, such as God. Neither author, however, deals with the historical aspect of the God question – namely a consideration of Jesus of Nazareth, the fulcrum around whom this debate tends to revolve in the West.

It is in the historical figure of Jesus that Christian faith is centred. The Gospel writers sought to record and interpret what they realized was a unique occurrence in history, combining testimony, scriptural precedent, and editorial comments. It is because Christians find in Jesus the revelation of the divine, of the Perfect Man, that they willingly embrace the same virtues and objectives which animate committed humanists. This attitude is captured by John at the opening of his gospel: “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (1:14).

Colin Sowden, Abergavenny

Dear Editor: It seems to me that in Issue 165 Andrew Likoudis would have us believe that atheists use ‘science’, ‘empiricism’, and a lack of ‘evidence’ to argue against the existence of gods. But by definition, science is an attempt to explain our observations of the natural world without resorting to supernatural agents. Therefore, gods and their existence are not and never have been the subject of science. Then we get a demand that atheists justify their position in terms of philosophical arguments, otherwise they’re not being intellectually honest, and should call themselves agnostics rather than atheists: “A firm atheistic worldview requires a strict dis-proof.” But there is no such onus of justification. The question of the existence of gods is irrelevant from an atheistic perspective.

When Christianity was first opposing Mediterranean polytheism, did anyone claim that Christians must either disprove the existence of Venus or Mars, or be agnostic about them?

Andrew Wrigley, York

Dear Editor: As a Christian, I feel honour-bound to comment on the articles on God in Issue 165, firstly, on the suggestion that God’s allowing evil for the sake of free will doesn’t explain natural disasters. On the contrary, it would look suspicious if the world were contrived so that only wilfully bad things happened – indeed, it would be proof of God’s existence.

We perhaps need to discuss the origin of evil. The idea of something necessarily involves the idea of its opposite. So since God is by definition a universal mind, he has a concept of good, so he will also have the concept of evil. Humans also have these concepts; but being created rather than Creator, and therefore limited – a weak and indeed flawed vessel – we will perform evil acts. But if, on the contrary, the universe could originate from something wicked or indifferent, or simply mindless, one would need to explain why we (a) have minds, and (b) are capable of feeling and showing sacrificial love.

Andrew Likoudis’s argument seems to be that because science offers no conclusive proof that God exists, atheists wrongly conclude that he doesn’t. It is very difficult to prove a negative, especially of such a cosmic nature: if you could disprove God through scientific means, that would imply you had omniscience, and so you would be taking another step towards proving God’s existence, by possessing one of his key attributes.

Guy Blythman (author of Rediscovering God and Philosophy: A View From The Edge)

Dear Editor: Taking on the theme of the Return of God is ‘courageous’, in the Yes Minister sense of that word [ie, foolhardy]. As always, the contributions are thought-provoking, although this time the thoughts provoked are too numerous to all be gathered up into a single letter to the editor. So here are just a few.

All of the contributions discussing evil conflate human suffering and evil. There is a distinction between so-called natural (acts of nature) and moral (acts of humans) causes of suffering, both of which are taken as expressions of evil. But this is problematic. First, evil is a moral concept, and so evil is a product of moral actors, who are conscious beings. However, nature is not a moral actor, and so the consequences of natural processes are not moral either. They’re neither morally good nor bad, they simply are. As one contributor, Mohsen Moghri, notes, suffering in nature is neither evil nor a by-product of good. Natural disasters exacerbated by human-caused global warming will have moral consequences, because the poor are excessively affected by them, but the overarching point still stands: natural processes are themselves incapable of being expressions of evil.

Second, there’s the conflation of human suffering with evil. While we probably all would prefer to avoid destructive natural processes, and empathise with those who have not been able to avoid them, this suffering can’t be cast as ‘evil’ if it is not the consequence of human actions. Our empathy is in part driven by a bias favouring our fellow humans; but there’s no need to insert a misconceived moral intent into nature. In natural processes there is no malevolent intent, no conscious action, and hence no moral content, no evil.

Third, human suffering does not itself automatically indicate the presence of evil. A patient suffers post-operatively in pursuit of a cure; loved ones suffer through grief at the loss of an aged relative; a thrill seeker injured through engaging in high risk adventures might suffer intensely; but none of this suffering need denote the presence of evil.

In summary, not all human-induced suffering, nor suffering endured as the effects of natural processes, is fodder for discussion of the problem of evil.

Peter Pearce

Dear Editor: I initially found the article by Mohsen Moghri in Issue 165 on a godless world run by values interesting. Nature seems to respect a species but not an individual, which fits well with his concept of ‘Natural Axiarchism’. Nevertheless, I have serious reservations about some of the propositions in the article.

First, the author goes too far with the claim that “pain and suffering are not intrinsically evil.” I cannot imagine any form of pain or suffering that is meaningful in itself, that is, not in a broader context where it contributes to greater good. And even in nature, suffering is often unnecessary or disproportionate, as in much of the suffering of wildlife.

In addition, I object to his generalisation that “for atheists, the ultimate evil is human pain.” Many atheists have ethical beliefs that extend beyond human concerns, such as empathy for animal suffering, especially when caused by human actions. The ethical system of utilitarianism – often espoused by atheists – most consistently focuses on the welfare of all sentient beings, not just of humans. But I also find the conclusion that “evil and suffering seem problematic when we consider humans as metaphysically special” itself extremely problematic. Evil and suffering are problematic whether or not we are metaphysically special.

How can his statements be defended in light of the experiences of Holocaust survivors? The author’s framing seems to minimise the significance of human suffering, as if it were trivial in the larger cosmic picture – so ignoring the basic human intuition that some forms of evil, such as torture or murder, are absolutely reprehensible. Moreover, his statement that “from our perspective, things can be good or evil” seems to imply moral relativism. If goodness or badness depends on perspective, it becomes impossible to establish universal values. But ignoring universal values leads to a dangerous subjectivity, where even torture or genocide could be seen as ‘good’ from certain perspectives.

Finally, I notice a contradiction in the author’s argument. On the one hand, he argues that “the creative principle does not care about human lives and values”, while on the other hand he claims that “human acts are good when getting closer to the creative principle but evil when far from it.” How can something indifferent to human lives and values still provide a measure of moral action?

The author’s solution to the problem of evil seems both immoral and theoretically flawed. While suffering may be a by-product of larger natural processes, we should still actively combat it – whether in humans or animals.

Caroline Deforche, Belgium

A Goff of Limited Power

Dear Editor: I found Philip Goff’s argument for the possibility of a good but limited God (‘A God of Limited Power’, Issue 165) both fascinating and refreshing. On first reading, it offered an attractive explanation for the existence of both the universe and of evil. But the argument for a good God of limited power raises a disturbing mirror possibility: Would the universe actually make more sense if it was created by an evil god with limited power? A god that wanted to make this universe much more evil, but simply lacked the necessary strength to fulfil its nefarious purpose? An evil but limited creator god would answer the question, Why would an evil God allow all the beauty, wonder and goodness we find in our universe? Because this evil but deficient god simply didn’t have the power to keep them out!

Bruce Dear, Southgate, Enfield

Since You Asked

I scorn those callow critics
Who mock my metaphysics
And offer no apology
For my epistemology.

Steven Kent

The Problem Is The Medium

Dear Editor: I was pleasantly surprised (as I expect were many others) when I learned that the author of Issue 165’s cover article, ‘Plato’s Cave & Social Media’, Seán Radcliffe, won the 2023 Irish Young Philosopher Award Grand Prize and Philosopher of Our Time Award for the very essay you published. Through an analogy with Plato’s Cave, Seán rightfully points out the danger of being ‘chained’ to a specific viewpoint that aligns with a political ideology or conspiracy theory. Are any of us immune? Socrates, via the Socratic dialogue immortalised by his champion Plato, transformed philosophy into a discussion governed by argument, as opposed to prescriptive dogma. In fact, I see philosophy as an antidote to dogma because it demands argument. However, if all dialogue takes place in an echo-chamber, the argument never happens!

Social media allows alternative universes that are not only different but polar opposites. To give an example that arose out of the COVID pandemic: in one universe, the vaccines were saving lives, and in an alternative universe they were bioweapons causing deaths. The 2020 US presidential election created another example of parallel universes that were direct opposites. Climate change is another. In all these cases, which universe one inhabits depends on which source of information one trusts.

Authoritarian governments are well aware that the control of information allows emotional manipulation of the populace. In social media, the most emotive and often most extreme versions of events get the most traction. Plato’s response to tyranny and populist manipulation was to recommend ‘philosopher-kings’, but no one sees that as realistic. I spent a working lifetime in engineering, and I’ve learned that no single person has all the expertise, so we need to trust the people who have the expertise we lack. A good example is the weather forecast. We’ve learned to trust it as it delivers consistently accurate short-term forecasts. But it’s an exception, because news sources are rarely agenda-free.

I can’t see political biases disappearing – in fact, they seem to be becoming more extreme, and the people with the strongest opinions see themselves as the best-informed. Even science can be politicised, as with both the COVID pandemic and with climate change. The answer is not a philosopher-king, but the institutions we already have in place that study climate science and epidemiology. We actually have the expertise; but we don’t listen to it because its proponents are not famous social media influencers!

Paul P. Mealing, Melbourne

Ducking Responsibility

Dear Editor: I have just seen on your Contents page that the name John Heawood appears on your advisory board. Could this be the John Heawood who was teaching philosophy at the University of York way back in the early seventies? John was a popular lecturer, and many students will remember their first seminar with him (he must have rehearsed this move many times): he would produce a clockwork duck, and wind it up just enough to send it waddling off across the table, to where it would come to a halt just short of the edge. “Well,” he asked, “how do I know that the duck didn’t stop because it didn’t want to fall off the edge?” Perhaps some of us, early in that first term, were rather unsure why we had opted to study philosophy, or even why we had come to university at all. But from that moment on we were all hooked!

Colin Stott, Taunton

What About Compassion?

Dear Editor: In the Issue 164 article, ‘We’re as Smart as the Universe Gets’ by James Miles, his dismissal of compassion as a significant factor in human evolution felt shortsighted. Frans de Waal and others have demonstrated that empathy and cooperation are not afterthoughts but evolutionary cornerstones. To suggest otherwise ignores a wealth of evidence supporting these traits as critical to human survival and development.

Dr Morissa Schwartz, New Jersey

Erratum

In Issue 165, in the article ‘Perpetuating the Santa Deception’ by Jimmy Alfonso Licon, a vital reference was inadvertently omitted. It would have pointed readers to the paper: ‘The Santa Claus Deception: The ethics of educator involvement’ by Dr Jeff Standley, published in the journal Theory and Research in Education 2020, Vol.18(2).