Philosopher Steven Colborne’s self-published book God’s Grand Game: Divine Sovereignty and the Cosmic Playground seeks to reconcile God’s sovereignty (e.g., omniscience, omnipotence, omnipresence, etc.) with human agency in the service of proposing a “Church of the Future.” (Apparently, each of the world’s major religions suffers from terminal flaws, and Colborne proposes what he believes to be the singular path forward.) It’s a Herculean task birthed from a seductive theological problem that has attracted many of history’s greatest minds, yet it doesn’t take long for readers to realize Colborne won’t provide an intellectual return on their investment. His nearly half-serious attempt fails at everything but contradiction, which makes it extraordinarily difficult to appreciate God’s Grand Game (GGG) as anything approaching a serious work of philosophical and theological exegesis. Most of the 45 chapters rehash the same basic concepts, and Colborne’s quotidian writing style feels less like an attempt to simplify complexities for the reader than a betrayal of some alarming vacuity. Think “self-published diary” rather than Summa Theologica.[1]
Colborne claims he is neither a Calvinist nor a pantheist {40}. I’ll take him at his word, though his worldview, as expressed in the book, aligns with those positions in incredibly intimate and multivalent ways. What he can’t deny, however, is his unshirted embrace of an uncompromisingly hard-determinist position that makes absolutely no room for anything else—not human agency, not mental creativity [2], not physical processes, and not even basic notions of perception {37, 49, 53}—and this belief motivates every one of his epistemological and ontological moves. The most charitable characterization of Colborne’s argument might be that we’re living in a supernal, spirit-based version of the Matrix, where an impersonal “God” informs and controls and imparts all experience and action, from our physical senses to the most nuanced mental states.
If defending fatalism were the entire project, however, then one might envision an alternate universe where GGG wasn’t so bad. Bring in Nick Bostrom, Daniel Dennett, Sam Harris, and John Searle, layered above a comprehensive overview of relevant historical thought (e.g., Aquinas, Augustine, etc.), and Colborne could have uncovered a substantive discussion concerning the intersection of free will, consciousness, and the potential for (either God- or computer-based) simulation. Instead, he fumbles for a prescription of theology that leads to many kinds of embarrassing errors, including faulty hermeneutics, straw-men attacks, confirmation bias, and circular reasoning. I won’t do a deep dive into every single non-sequitur, but I hope readers will be largely (if not completely) persuaded by the following examples:
(1) God is omniscient, yet the future is uncertain until He decides what comes next {35}.
(2) Our “modes of mind” can influence the “modes” of others {55}, yet causation is a fallacy {168} and all mental states—including psychoses—are a function of God’s design {37}.
(3) The proof of randomness (i.e., the fact that we’re not in control of our own thoughts) is randomness (e.g., of choice, of word association, etc.) {59}.
Of course, there are straightforward (theo)logical problems as well. To wit:
- God is the reification of both love and hate {25}
- God controls Satan’s actions {87}, but Satan doesn’t exist {119}
- God causes us to sin and imparts to us sinful desires {51 ff., 74}
- God created all the religions {79 f.}
- God possibly forgets things {237, fn 2}
. . . and so forth. These are obviously absurd claims, yet Colborne has no choice but to admit them because his initial conditions demand their inclusion. It may be God’s “game,” but Colborne makes the rules.
Perhaps the most significant deficit of GGG, aside from the disqualifying problems of circular reasoning and self-contradiction, is Colborne’s failure to engage in real theological debate when opportunities do arise. For example, he asserts the predestination doctrine of orthodox Calvinism simply because it aligns with his first principle of hard determinism. This means Colborne must ignore the myriad biblical scriptures that qualify salvific theology as an engagement with (and of) subjective will, while also failing to address the obvious fact that “preordainment” inexorably leads to the nullification of God’s existence.[3] This was a wonderful opportunity for Colborne to conjoin his theological and philosophical positions in a powerful and convincing way using a “real world” problem, and he punted. Of course, considering the above examples, one would expect Colborne to be unfazed by the problem of a God who makes people sin and then destroys them for sinning, and the reader is not disappointed. Examples like these are littered throughout the text.
One should certainly applaud Colborne for conquering the difficult process of writing and self-publishing a book, but in the end, GGG is internally inconsistent and commits the most fundamental errors in logic; unfortunately, that’s reason enough to dismiss it as a spasmodic, pseudointellectual exercise. There are other problems too (e.g., the complete lack of academic research and references, etc.) that give the reader the distinct impression this should be a very first (and very rough) draft rather than a pristine product ready for publication—though, even then, there should be cause for serious concern—but those issues would have been overlooked had Colborne crafted a logically consistent and compelling narrative.
In God’s Grand Game, we all lose.
Footnotes:
[1] Numbers in square brackets indicate footnotes; those in curly brackets denote page numbers within the text.
[2] This is known as occasionalism whose endgame is pantheism.
[3] According to Colborne, God chooses “one of the innumerable worlds” that “veils” preselected minds from knowing Him {75}. So, if God causes everyone to sin—because all human behavior is really God’s invasive action operating through us without our consent—and then punishes a preordained subset of those fully determined persons (i.e., the non-elect) with eternal damnation for ostensibly rejecting Christ (when they possessed no free will to do so), then God must be unjust. But if God exists, He must exist as a perfect, and perfectly moral, being, a state that requires He adjudicate justly and righteously. Therefore, God cannot exist.