Randal Rauser's Blog, page 123

Evangelicals, Trump, and the Death of Contrition

In this article I’d like to address one significant casualty of the stupefying support Donald Trump receives among Caucasian American evangelicals (CAE). (At 100 days into his presidency his job approval remained at 80% among CAEs.) And that casualty is this: the death of contrition.

First off, what is “contrition”? Gerald O’Collins and Edward Farugia offer the following definition: “A heartfelt sorrow for past sin accompanied by the intention not to sin again.” (A Concise Dictionary of Theology, rev. ed. (Paulist Press, 2000) 53). O’Collins and Farugia go on to point out that genuine contrition is necessary for penance (i.e. repentance and restoration for all you non-Catholics).

What O’Collins and Farugia describe is uncontroversial. Contrition requires this demonstration of sorrow, genuine remorse, repentance, and the resolution to sin no longer, to be a better person. Of course, genuine contrition also entails that one does not attempt to ameliorate their indiscretion by minimizing their actions or shifting blame to others.

When a public figure commits a moral indiscretion for which contrition is required, there is a reasonable expectation that the apology and the demonstration of contrition will be public. Here is one of the most famous (or infamous) examples of public contrition in our modern age. It comes from evangelist Jimmy Swaggart’s famous 1988 “I have sinned” apology which he gave after being caught cavorting with prostitutes:

We can always debate whether Swaggart was genuine in his expression of contrition. But then we can do that about any apology. The fact is, however, that Swaggart’s apology includes the elements one would expect of genuine contrition. He displays sorrow, he owns his actions by calling them sin and carefully enumerating those he has offended against. And he doesn’t attempt to diminish his actions, shift the topic, or deflect blame to anyone else. That’s what true contrition looks like.

Now we come to Donald Trump.

Last October the world was stunned (but perhaps not surprised) when news of the infamous Access Hollywood video broke in which Donald Trump brags of sexually assaulting women. Following that major scandal, Trump issued an apology of his own.

Here’s the important part. Over the last eight months I have observed that the CAEs who support Trump have widely embraced his statement as constituting the elements of a genuine apology, including the genuine display of contrition. I know this because when I raise the Access Hollywood recording, the response frequently is that it is inappropriate to mention this because Trump has apologized.

This issue arose again a couple days ago when I had a spirited but friendly exchange with Dr. Michael Brown. Here is the relevant excerpt

How does it dignify your position when you constantly bring up ugly comments he made more than a decade which he clearly said he regrets?

— Dr. Michael L. Brown (@DrMichaelLBrown) June 8, 2017

Note that Brown assumes here that it is inappropriate to mention the fact that Trump has bragged of sexually assaulting women because he has since expressed “regret” (i.e. genuine contrition).

But is that true? Has Trump done so? Here is Trump’s famous apology following the release of the Access Hollywood recording:

Does this statement reflect the contrition that is indicative of a genuine apology?

Note first that the emotional affect is completely wrong. Trump does not demonstrate sorrow in this apology. He speaks sternly with his head tilted down and his brow furrowed. To highlight the role of body language, watch both Swaggart and Trump’s statements with the sound turned off. Which of those two looks more like an apology? Swaggart’s tear-stained cheeks or Trump’s hunched, stern expression?

It is true that in his 1 minute 30 statement Trump does spend seven seconds apologizing. Approximately eighteen seconds into the statement he takes four seconds to say “I said it. I was wrong. And I apologize.” And at 45 seconds in he takes an additional three seconds to say “I pledge to be a better man tomorrow and will never ever let you down.”

Is seven seconds sufficient to apologize for bragging of sexually assaulting women?

The bigger problem is not simply the seven seconds but the other one minute and twenty plus seconds. In that time Trump attempts to minimize his actions by referring to the recording as coming from a “decade old video”. He also deflects by spending time talking about the people he’s met on the campaign trail. Then he returns to minimization by saying: “Let’s be honest, we’re living in the real world. This is nothing more than a distraction from the important issues we’re facing today.”

But the absolute worst comes at the end of the statement when he attempts to shift to blaming Bill and Hillary Clinton: “I’ve said some foolish things” he says, but “Bill Clinton has actually abused women. And Hillary has bullied, attacked, shamed, attacked, and intimidated his victims.”

Incredible: Trump brags of being a sexual predator and his “apology” concludes by attacking Hillary Clinton. 

Note one more thing: while Swaggart publicly apologizes to his wife, Trump does not apologize to his wife for smugly bragging of sexually assaulting women.

When people like Michael Brown consider this statement to be an apology, they radically shift the meaning of contrition. Apparently now to be contrite all one needs is about a seven second statement complemented with an aggressive affect, a minimization of and deflection from one’s actions, and an overt attempt to shift the blame to others.

The great Lutheran theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer famously lamented the rise of cheap grace in the Protestant church. One can hardly imagine what he would think of the CAE perversion of the concept of contrition. If Trump’s statement constitutes an apology then apologizing is now officially a meaningless action.

The post Evangelicals, Trump, and the Death of Contrition appeared first on Randal Rauser.

Learning to Speak in Tongues: A Pentecost Sermon

Ever wondered how to speak in tongues? Hey, born and raised in the Pentecostal Church, I should know. And what better day to share my secret than on Pentecost Sunday? This is a sermon I preached at Lendrum Mennonite Church in Edmonton, AB on Pentecost Sunday 2017. It ain’t exactly “covfefe”, but as Trump would say, “Enjoy!”

The post Learning to Speak in Tongues: A Pentecost Sermon appeared first on Randal Rauser.

Should you get a Philosophy PhD?

When folks ask me whether they should do a PhD in philosophy (or theology, for that matter) I typically respond, “Yes, if you’re okay with being the smartest barista at Starbucks.” I then go on to describe the bleak prospects for humanities PhDs generally, and philosophy (and theology) in particular.

Since you might not have heard my lecture, let me give you the abbreviated version now.

We can start with this sobering fact. Jobs in the humanities have been shrinking for the last forty years along with student enrollment in humanities programs. (By contrast, programs in business and STEM disciplines are doing very well.) The future is in medicine, not metaphysics; it’s in robotics not Rousseau; it’s in engineering, not epistemology. You get the idea…

But let’s say you went ahead and did your doctorate. So what now?

The sad fact is that post-graduate programs have been producing an excess number of humanities PhDs relative to supply for years. So when you finally enter the job market, you’re already competing against a crowded field.

To make matters worse, many humanities departments are attempting to make do with less. In practical terms that often means a greater dependence on adjunct faculty who teach sessional courses.

There is an upside to this increased dependence on sessionals: you have more opportunities to “get your feet wet” teaching sessional courses and thereby to build your CV. Initially it is a thrill to be in the classroom. A couple of the schools you teach at are well known and you relish telling folks you teach at X or Y University.

Alas, the sheen of that lifestyle wears off quickly. Initially you naively hoped teaching a course at X University might help you “get your foot in the door.” But your application never went anywhere as they hired that dynamic and prolific young scholar from England.

So now you find yourself trying to make ends meet as a sessional prof, shuttling between schools and working for peanuts with no job security or health benefits. But beware, the longer you’re a sessional, the more you tend to get stigmatized as a classroom mule and the harder it is to get a job.

You need to get in the game!

So what’s the solution? You need to publish buddy like that prolific young scholar from England.

But when are you going to find the time? After all, you’re teaching nine courses a year at three campuses plus two more online. To be sure, you’re still happy to have the work. However, most nights you’re prepping new courses and marking papers until 1 am. After all that you’re understandably exhausted: good luck with writing anything that is suitably “academic.”

Then someone else volunteers further advice: You need to start presenting papers at conferences. Sure, you think to yourself, but how can you afford a thousand bucks for the conference fee, hotel and airfare? After all, you’re still struggling to pay off $70,000 in student debt.

You see a “dream job” advertised. It’s in your area and you’d love to live in that city. So you stay up extra late to rework your CV and write up a profound teaching philosophy. You send off everything the next morning with high hopes.

A month later you receive a polite email thanking you for your application but stating that they are candidating a couple other scholars. Nobody told you that more than a hundred qualified applicants applied for that same position. Your application — the one you thought was so brilliant — went in the recycling bin on the first pass.

You’ve now been struggling as a sessional for three years. But the courses are harder to come by: this semester you only have two. You did get two book reviews and three papers published last year. But that’s a mere drop in the bucket. Remember that prolific young scholar from England? He’s published three books in the same time and he was just promoted to associate professor.

Finally, you make a decision: You print off your CV and drive down to the university. You park outside the Student Union Building and walk into the Starbucks on the corner. “Hello,” you say with the most cheery voice you can muster, “I’m looking for a job.”

The post Should you get a Philosophy PhD? appeared first on Randal Rauser.

Worldviews and “Defending the Truth”

The other day I came across this tweet:

Treat other worldview graciously as you defend the truth: An Intellectual Code of Conduct, Part 1 #Apologetics https://t.co/OxiCOyUNyl

— Lisa Quintana (@LisaQthinks) June 3, 2017

I agree that one ought to treat those who hold other worldviews graciously. I also agree with the advice as it is explained in the linked article.

The point to which I’d like to offer a critical response is with the tweeter’s reference to one’s own worldview as “the truth” and her characterization of intellectual engagement with others as “defending the truth” over against the error of one’s interlocutor.

[Aside: Now of course it is trivially the case that one only believes a proposition because one is of the conviction that the proposition in question is true. And since one believes all the propositions of a worldview that they accept, it follows that one seeks to defend a set of claims they hold to be true when they engage in intellectual debate with those who hold other opinions. But since that is trivially the case, it hardly needs to be stated.]

The problem with the wording of the tweet is that it predicates truth primarily of the total set of beliefs one holds — the “worldview” — rather than of each of the propositional claims that comprise the set. And this in turn suggests that intellectual exchange and debate is an all-or-nothing affair in which one defends their worldview as true and critiques the alternative worldview as false.

In point of fact, worldviews — or at least the propositional content of worldviews — consist of complex nested sets of truth claims. My worldview, for example, consists of beliefs about God, metaphysics, the nature of human persons, the end of human existence, the nature of the morally good and right, the structure and processes that govern the world of nature, the quality of aesthetic appreciation, the nature of society and law, and so on. To change my views on one of these topics is not automatically to change my worldview.

For example, my worldview includes the beliefs that (1) human beings are body/soul composites (a metaphysical belief), (2) that as a species we are the product of the natural processes broadly described in Neo-Darwinian evolution (a scientific belief), (3) that modern societies generally function most effectively with a mix of public institutions and a market exchange (an economic and social belief), (4) that states ought not utilize execution in their systems of jurisprudence (an ethical belief).

All these convictions are sufficiently fundamental that they are part of my worldview. Note as well that I could deny (1)-(4) while still retaining the same worldview type. At the same time, by abandoning (1)-(4) I would adopt a different token of the type.

Think about it like this. If we privilege religious commitment or ultimate metaphysical commitments in our categorization of worldview (hence the “Christian” worldview; the “naturalist” worldview, etc.) we might put it like this:

The Christian worldview is consistent both with the affirmation and denial of (1)-(4).

Various Christian worldviews (token examples of the Christian worldview type) could either affirm or deny (1)-(4).

And with that we can revisit the notion that one’s worldview is simply “The truth” and thus when we debate and dialogue with others we are “defending the truth”. If we privilege metaphysical commitment (e.g. the “Christian” worldview) then we might continue to think our worldview is simply true.

But we need to keep in mind that worldviews are always held as token examples of the general type. We don’t just hold “the Christian worldview”. We hold token examples of the Christian type. In point of fact, particular worldviews include complex sets of propositional claims and in any debate/dialogue you will likely find both agreement and disagreement with the worldview of your interlocutor. And on the points of disagreement, you may well end up changing your views on a particular topic while maintaining your overall worldview.

The post Worldviews and “Defending the Truth” appeared first on Randal Rauser.

Special Pleading or Therapy? The J. Warner Wallace Dilemma

Popular Christian apologists have a problem. On the one hand, they are strident defenders of objective moral knowledge, often to the end of defending a moral argument for God’s existence. On the other hand, they defend readings of the violence portrayed in the Bible that appear inconsistent with that aforementioned commitment to objective moral knowledge.

Wallace on Moral Absolutes and the Relativist Who Needs Therapy

Take the case of J. Warner Wallace. Just today Mr. Wallace posted a short article titled “The Self-Evident Nature of Objective Moral Truths.” He begins,

“there appear to be a number of moral absolutes that transcend culture and history. These objective truths beckon us to seek justification when we attempt to circumvent their prescriptions.”

Wallace provides the following examples:

It’s never OK to steal “for the fun of it”

It’s never OK to lie “for the fun of it”

It’s never OK to kill “for the fun of it”

Wallace then notes that when he encounters relativists who are resistant to acknowledging moral absolutes, he will often reply like this:

“it’s sometimes important to ‘super-size’ an issue to illustrate the point. That’s why I occasionally ask the question, ‘Is it ever OK to torture babies for fun?’ If it isn’t, we’ve just identified a transcendent moral principle we can agree on.”

Wallace then recounts with bemusement the recalcitrant relativist who is keen to affirm the prohibition on baby-torture-for-fun but who is hamstrung by a relativist framework. He begins with a pointed question for the relativist:

“‘So, are you saying there’s a scenario in which it might be appropriate to torture a baby for fun?’ She still hesitated. “So, you’re saying that there could be a scenario in which it is morally acceptable to torture babies merely for the fun of it? Do you see how that sounds?”

Answer: it sounds really bad! Our moral intuitions support the conclusion that torturing babies for fun is always wrong.

So what if the relativist still refuses to recognize that torturing babies for fun is absolutely wrong? Wallace concludes with another suggestion, therapy:

“When people still refuse to affirm something as self-evident as, ‘It’s never OK to torture babies for fun,’ it’s time to offer them an additional piece of advice: ‘Get some help!’ When your intuitive ability to recognize self-evident truth is inoperative, it’s time to get some counseling.”

There you have it: if people insist on maintaining views that are at variance with “self-evident” moral truths, there may be nothing left to do but advise them to get some counseling.

Wallace on Biblical Violence

Right, now let’s turn to Wallace’s 2013 article “Why Would a Good God Behave So Badly?” In this article Wallace takes on the problem of biblical violence. The difficulty here is that the Bible (and the Old Testament in particular) appears to depict God commanding and commending actions that contradict self-evident moral truths.

Like what? Well, let’s stick with the baby examples. Just as it seems self-evident that torturing babies for fun is wrong, so it seems self-evident that undertaking the punitive slaughter of infants for the actions of adult ancestors of those infants is wrong. And yet, in 1 Samuel 15 we read this:

“2 This is what the Lord Almighty says: ‘I will punish the Amalekites for what they did to Israel when they waylaid them as they came up from Egypt. 3 Now go, attack the Amalekites and totally destroy all that belongs to them. Do not spare them; put to death men and women, children and infants, cattle and sheep, camels and donkeys.’”

Now this appears to present a direct affront to the very self-evident moral knowledge that Wallace defends. So how can we make sense of this? Wallace offers three points.

First, he says that “God is the greatest artist”:

“the artist has the authority and right to destroy his or her own work. The art belongs to the artist. If there is a God, all of creation is His handiwork. He has the right to create and destroy what is His, even when this destruction may seem unfair to the artwork itself.”

So since God created infants, God can decide what to do with them. And if he wants them butchered for the sins of their ancestors, then that’s just the way it is.

Wallace’s second point is that “God is the greatest physician.” He explains:

“If there is a God, all of us are His patients. He has the wisdom and authority to treat us as He sees fit, even when we might not be able to understand the overarching danger we face if drastic action isn’t taken.”

This point reiterates the first point by appealing to divine authority, but it adds an additional point regarding divine wisdom. This would seem to be an allusion to the notion of skeptical theism: viz. even if we cannot envision what reason God would have he must have good reason.

The fact is, however, that mystery doesn’t really apply here: the text provides the underlying moral principle: at least in some cases it is permissible to hold infants morally accountable for the actions of their ancestors.

Finally, Wallace concludes with the third point, “God is the greatest savior”:

“If there is a God, He is more concerned about saving us for eternity than He is about making our mortal lives safe.”

Generally speaking, each of the points Wallace raises is legitimate: as creator God does have particular authority over creation, and he has particular knowledge of purposes and ends that we do not, and this life is not the end of existence: rather it is the forecourt for eternity.

But do any of those points add up to a defense for the ethics of punitively slaughtering infants for the actions of their ancestors? Or, conversely, is the application of these general points nonetheless constrained by our most basic, self-evident moral knowledge?

Special Pleading or Therapy?

Now we come to the dilemma.

Imagine that a tribe in Irian Jaya slaughters the neighboring tribe — men, women, children, infants, and animals — because of actions committed by the ancestors of that neighboring tribe several hundred years before. How should we think about those actions?

If Wallace’s three points apply to the Amalekite Genocide of 1 Samuel 15 then they apply in principle to the actions of that Irian Jayan tribe. In other words, their actions are at least possibly defensible because in some cases it is morally justifiable to slaughter infants for the actions of their ancestors.

This presents Wallace with a dilemma. If he denies that the actions of the Irian Jayan tribe are at least possibly morally justified then he engages in special pleading. If, on the contrary, he concedes that they are at least possibly morally justified then the rest of us might be inclined to tell him to get some counseling.

And one more thing: even if Wallace embraces the horn of special pleading, one might still think he needs some therapy. After all, if our moral knowledge supports the conclusion that just as it is always wrong to torture infants for fun so it is always wrong to slaughter them punitively for the actions of their ancestors, then any exception to the absolute places one in need of therapy.

In conclusion, apologists like Mr. Wallace must choose: will they defend their moral knowledge and seek alternative readings of the biblical passages in question? Or will they deny that moral knowledge in order to retain their particular reading of the Bible?

The post Special Pleading or Therapy? The J. Warner Wallace Dilemma appeared first on Randal Rauser.

From Aliens to Meh: A Review of Alien: Covenant

Thirty-one years ago I saw Aliens in the theater.

Wow. I still can feel the visceral sense of excitement and wonder at being thrown into this dark dystopian future. Even now, the special effects have held up remarkably well. As has Vasquez’s masterful burn:

Yes, that’s the late Bill Paxton playing the cocky and endearing Private Hudson.

Aliens is full of memorable moments: the discovery of Newt; Ripley fighting for her life after Burke releases the face hugger; Bishop’s fight to the death with the beast; Ripley’s final victory using the Caterpillar P-5000 Work Loader.

When the credits rolled I remained in my seat stunned by the James Cameron-fueled spectacle.

Yesterday I saw Alien: Covenant.

Way better special effects, much more gore, and highbrow attempts at philosophical themes in league with 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Alas, none of that could save a film laden down with forgettable characters and a story line of only middling interest. News flash: huge budgets and brilliant marketing campaigns do not guarantee good movies.

Then again, the other options at the cinema included Baywatch and Pirates of the Caribbean Part 19 (or thereabouts), so all told I suppose Alien: Covenant wasn’t that bad after all.

The post From Aliens to Meh: A Review of Alien: Covenant appeared first on Randal Rauser.

Is it wrong for Christians to troll Trump?

Donald Trump leads the way at the G7.

Over the last year or two trolling Donald Trump seems to have become an (inter)national past time. Saturday Night Live and a host of late night comedy hosts led the way. In fact, Seth Meyers’ epic  2011 roast of Trump is reputed to have contributed to the man’s determination to run for president in 2016.

But perhaps the most provocative example of “trolling” comes from dissident street artists including the Lithuanian street mural of Trump and Putin and “The Emperor has No Balls,” a series of sculptures created last autumn by a group of anarchist/artists which present Trump naked. (And in case you were wondering, yes, “The Emperor has No Balls” sculptures have their own Wikipedia page. Yet one more example of how Wikipedia is not your parents’ set of Encyclopedia Britannica.)

So here is the question. Is it wrong for Christians to troll Trump?

First off, what is trolling? If we turn to dictionary.com, we find the following informal definitions for “troll”:

to post inflammatory or inappropriate messages or comments on (the Internet, especially a message board) for the purpose of upsetting other users and provoking a response.
to upset or provoke (other users) by posting such messages or comments.

I have no doubt that some of the incendiary depictions of Trump are trolling in this sense: that is, they are intended simply to upset or provoke others. It seems to me that this act of provoking others with no greater purpose is wrong. And thus when people troll Trump (or his supporters) in this manner, they do engage in behavior which is immoral.

However, in many cases the provocation is intended as social commentary and critique. For example, many people have pointed out that Trump admires demagogues and strongmen the world over. (A case in point, Trump has praised Rodrigo Duterte who has boasted of murdering people and who jokes about his soldiers raping women.) In keeping with his own demagogic tendencies Trump habitually propagates false and conspiratorial claims and seeks to discredit the mainstream fact-based media as “fake news.” At the same time, Trump exhibits what are often considered infantilized tendencies, including an inability to control his behavior, and a need for constant affirmation and to be the center of attention.

From that perspective, a picture such as the one included above is trolling in a very particular way. It is not simply seeking to upset Trump or his supporters. Rather, it is seeking to undermine his own mythos of being a “tough guy” and “the smartest guy in the room” with a “very good brain” by revealing him instead to be an infantilized child wholly lacking in discipline, self-control, and knowledge.

Of course, once we recognize the greater purpose behind such images, one might think that they should not be considered trolling in the first place. Conversely, if one grants that trolling can include incendiary images/commentary for the purpose of spurring elevated social commentary and critique then this could be morally serious and socially important trolling which is fully consistent with Christian conviction.

One final thought: while this kind of incisive and even incendiary commentary can be justified, one suspects that more often than not it leads to further retrenchment across ideological divides. So while these kinds of images can be justified, the question of whether it is wise to promote them still must be asked.

The post Is it wrong for Christians to troll Trump? appeared first on Randal Rauser.

Do ID theorists have an agenda? And does it matter if they do?

The discussion thread for my article “Intelligent Design Explanations are not Science Stoppers” includes a spirited exchange with RonH. One point of disagreement that quickly emerged in our interaction concerned the relevance of the background beliefs and intentions of intelligent design advocates in assessing the arguments for intelligent design.

RonH was keen to link intelligent design to the politics of the Discovery Institute and subversive intentions to introduce God into the laboratory (and classroom). I countered that RonH needed to distinguish the arguments of his ID interlocutors from their background beliefs and motivations and to focus simply on the arguments.

Unmoved by my reasoned entreaty, RonH retorted:

“C’mon, Randal. I can distinguish between individuals, institutions, and ideas. But ideas don’t exist in a vacuum. They’re invented by people and promoted by people and institutions.”

Indeed, RonH is correct to note that ideas don’t exist in a vaccum. Nonetheless, that is a non sequitur because one should still be able to assess the argument on its own terms.

I will grant RonH one modest point: the background beliefs and motivations (and supporting institutions) for a truth claim can justify a prima facie skepticism of the claim. However, that skepticism is only prima facie. Ultimately the truth claim should be considered on the merits of the arguments/evidence provided for it.

Imagine, for example, that you learn of a public lecture being given by a professor who challenges the link between climate change and fossil fuels. You are intrigued and plan to attend. But then you learn that the lecture is being funded by BP and Exxon. That discovery might reasonably sustain a new prima facie skepticism about the lecturer.

But even if you now have a justified skepticism, that doesn’t change the fact that ultimately the professor’s arguments must be considered on their own merits. The fact that BP and Exxon and the professor all have motivated interests doesn’t automatically undercut the quality of the man’s analysis.

In fact, it is worth keeping in mind that virtually everyone has background beliefs, motivations and interests. And we are all in perennial danger of special pleading by which we yield undue permission to our background beliefs, motivations and interests while raising the skeptical bar for others.

Thus, the real danger of RonH’s perspective is that it will inure a person from considering arguments and evidence presented from motivations and background beliefs different from one’s own. The only solution is to recognize that the arguments for the truth claim must ultimately be considered on their own merits.

In conclusion, I’ll note one additional point: not all supporters of ID have a connection with the Discovery Institute. (And I count myself in that number.) In fact, as I pointed out to RonH, not all are even theists. Bradley Monton, for example, is an atheist philosopher of religion and defender of intelligent design.

Now imagine that I give RonH a journal article defending ID and I implore RonH to consider the argument on its own merits. In reply he retorts, “Downplaying theistic intervention is just a political tactic.”

In light of the analysis in this article I have two responses. First, is the article still a “political tactic” if it was written by atheist philosopher of religion Bradley Monton? Or is it only a political tactic if it was written by a theistic ID theorist like Stephen Meyer?

And, to return to my original point, what does it matter what the “political tactic” may be? The argument should be considered on its own merits.

The post Do ID theorists have an agenda? And does it matter if they do? appeared first on Randal Rauser.

Intelligent Design Explanations are not Science Stoppers

It’s a familiar charge for anybody well versed in the ID literature: ID explanations ought to be rejected because they are “science stoppers.” (See, for example, Karl Giberson and Donald Yerxa, Species of Origins: America’s Search for a Creation Story (Rowman and Littlefield, 2002), 225-26.)

How’s that exactly? The idea is that once you invoke intelligence as an explanation, you undermine the grounds to understand the underlying mechanisms behind the phenomenon.

I’ve addressed this topic before. (See, for example, “Intelligent design: The ultimate science stopper?” and “In search of an arsonist: On testing for intelligent design.”) In this article I want to return to the topic by engaging the ongoing debate about a star (known as “Tabby’s Star”) some distance from earth which has demonstrated inexplicable shifts in luminosity. All known natural explanations have been exhausted, leading some astronomers to posit that the shifts in light could be created by a Dyson Sphere, the product of a highly advanced alien civilization.

In other words, non-human intelligence.

Perhaps someone should tell those astronomers that appeals to intelligence apparently aren’t allowed. Not least because the minute you appeal to intelligence to explain a phenomenon, you allegedly stop further inquiry.

Right?

Except that you don’t stop further inquiry. As Sarah Kaplan points out in her article “The weirdest star in the sky is acting up again,”

“the teeny, tiny incredibly unlikely possibility that something is out there means that astronomers can’t stop talking about Tabby’s Star. And, regardless of the source, the dimming is worth understanding.”

Intelligence gets scientists talking. It motivates them to understand the phenomenon. So you see, invoking intelligence doesn’t halt investigation. Rather, if anything, it spurs on investigation to understand better the nature of the intelligence and the phenomenon it produced.

 

The post Intelligent Design Explanations are not Science Stoppers appeared first on Randal Rauser.

Cultural Relativism: at least they meant well

When I was in university twenty plus years ago, cultural relativism was very popular. The essence of cultural relativism is that ethical judgments (good and evil; right and wrong) can only be made from within cultural frameworks. The truth of various ethical judgments are constituted relative to the socially embedded practices in which they are made. Given that ethical judgments are relative, it is mistaken to judge one culture by the mores of another.

The irony is that cultural relativism seems to have gained much of its cachet as a result of a very non-relativistic reaction to western imperialism. Thus, the one transcultural maxim apparently became “First, do no harm.” In other words, do not impose your ethics, economics, music, art, or religion on other cultures.

But of course, the whole notion falls on its face for cultures which include imperialistic impulses. In that case, if there are no judgments external to culture that can be made, then each culture is free to maintain fidelity to its own mores, and if those include the suppression or eradication of other cultures then so be it.

In this way, the attempt to douse the the imperialistic flame ended up becoming an incendiary to speed its burning. If cultural relativism is true, then imperialism wins the day: there really is no higher court to which one can appeal.

Here’s the lesson: if you want to censure cultural imperialism then have at it: the litany of imperialistic crimes is great. But don’t think that denying the possibility of transcultural judgments is the way to do it.  Indeed, cultural relativism is equivalent to performing amputation to treat a hangnail. And cutting off the branch you’re sitting on while you’re at it.

The post Cultural Relativism: at least they meant well appeared first on Randal Rauser.