In roughly descending order of importance, I endeavor to explain the principal reasons why I am not a Christian.

I am not a Christian because god is absent or, at the least, silent. In essence, those of the Christian faith proclaim that our universe, and all that is part of it, is in the hands of an omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent creator deity who takes a personal interest in human affairs. It is completely inexplicable, then, that this creator deity would be entirely undetectable and utterly absent from day-to-day life. If one reads the Bible, one finds an active, present, immediate god; moreover, one finds copious miracles and prodigies that are unlike anything with which we are familiar.

David Hume writes, “It forms a strong presumption against all supernatural and miraculous relations, that they are observed chiefly to abound among ignorant and barbarous nations…. When we peruse the first histories of all nations, we are apt to imagine ourselves transported into some new world; where the whole frame of nature is disjointed, and every element performs its operations in a different manner, from what it does at present. Battles, revolutions, pestilence, famine and death, are never the effect of those natural causes, which we experience. Prodigies, omens, oracles, judgements, quite obscure the few natural events, that are intermingled with them. But as the former grow thinner every page, in proportion as we advance nearer the enlightened ages, we soon learn, that there is nothing mysterious or supernatural in the case, but that all proceeds from the usual propensity of mankind towards the marvellous….” Hume rightly adds, “It is strange, a judicious reader is apt to say, upon the perusal of these wonderful historians, that such prodigious events never happen in our days.”

Why would a god who, in barbarous and ignorant times, was so clear, present and active suddenly, upon the emergence of a scientific understanding of the natural order, become a silent, inert sluggard whose presence could only be discerned in the most obscure, skepticism-baiting ways? Where are the miracles and prodigies for our scientific age? Richard Carrier writes, “For example, only those who believe in the true Christian Gospel [could] be granted…supernatural powers that could be confirmed by science; only true Christian Bibles [could] be indestructible, unalterable, and self-translating; and [a] Divine Voice [could] consistently convey to everyone the will and desires of the Christian message alone.” Because god, if existent, is a do-nothing layabout, I am not a Christian.

I am not a Christian because the Bible, despite the fact it is purported to be inspired by god himself, wallows in pitiable prescientific primitivism and yawn-inducing mundanity. Certainly, considering its divine inspiration, one might expect the Bible to be full of dazzlingly specific information of which no one had been previously aware. Considering its divine inspiration, one might expect the pinnacle of all intellectual achievement. This is not so. Sam Harris writes, “[The Bible] does not contain a single sentence that could not have been written by a man or woman living in the first century.” There is nothing about the actual age or size of our universe. There is nothing about the germ theory of disease. Earth’s vast geography is shrunk down to claustrophobically local levels. It is not even clear from the Bible whether the creator of our universe is aware of Australia. The Bible is not a product of divine inspiration but, rather, lamentable ancient ignorance.

How, Christopher Hitchens asks, can Genesis be proven the mundane work of ignorant humans in merely a paragraph? “Because,” he writes, “man is given 'dominion' over all beasts, fowl and fish. But no dinosaurs or plesiosaurs or pterodactyls are specified, because the authors did not know of their existence, let alone of their supposedly special and immediate creation. Nor are any marsupials mentioned, because Australia—the next candidate after Mesoamerica for a new 'Eden'—was not on any known map. Most important, in Genesis man is not awarded dominion over germs and bacteria because the existence of these necessary yet dangerous fellow creatures was not known or understood. And if it had been known or understood, it would at once have become apparent that these forms of life had 'dominion' over us, and would continue to enjoy it uncontested until the priests had been elbowed aside and medical research at last given an opportunity.”

Because the Bible’s mundanity belies the claim of divine inspiration, I am not a Christian.

I am not a Christian because worship of Yahweh as the singular creator deity did not arise independently among numerous geographically isolated populations. Any delusional belief system, if designed cleverly enough, has the potential to “catch fire,” as it were, and spread pervasively throughout our species. Much less likely, however, would be for the same delusional belief system to arise independently in many different places. Imagine if, around 2000 BCE, worship of Yahweh had arisen, nearly simultaneously, in the Middle East, China, the Americas and central Africa. What would have been the odds of an identical god character—with distinctive quirks, commandments, preferences and fetishes—being invented by completely different populations? They seem infinitesimal. However, there is no evidence of Yahweh-worship arising independently. However spiritual they might previously have been, primitive populations began to worship Yahweh specifically when believers in Yahweh arrived at their shores.

Christopher Hitchens writes, “One recalls the question that was asked by the Chinese when the first Christian missionaries made their appearance. If god has revealed himself, how is it that he has allowed so many centuries to elapse before informing the Chinese?” Whatever deities might have haunted Chinese history, none was distinguishably Yahweh. Because god did not independently reveal himself to several geographically isolated populations, I am not a Christian.

I am not a Christian because the Bible contains palpably nonsensical claims. Matthew attests to a horde of zombies roaming about Jerusalem (Matthew 27:52-53). Lot's luckless wife was turned into a pillar of salt (Genesis 19:26). People attain impossible ages: Adam, 930 years; Noah, 950 years; Abraham, 175 years; Sarah, 127 years (less ludicrous, but still). Jesus is alleged to have been born by what can only be presumed to be parthenogenesis, despite the fact that, as Christopher Hitchens notes, “…parthenogenesis is not possible for human mammals.”

When confronted with nonsense, one has no obligation to proffer any counterargument. As David Hume writes, for a just reasoner, “a miracle, supported by any human testimony, [is] more properly a subject of derision than of argument.” Because the Bible testifies to self-evidently ludicrous claims, which justly demand derision, I am not a Christian.

I am not a Christian because, though archaeological evidence could have substantiated the biblical narrative, it does not. Christopher Hitchens writes, “…much more extensive and objective work was undertaken, presented most notably by Israel Finkelstein of the Institute of Archaeology at Tel Aviv University, and his colleague Neil Asher Silberman. These men regard the ‘Hebrew Bible’ or Pentateuch as beautiful, and the story of modern Israel as an all-around inspiration, in which respects I humbly beg to differ. But their conclusion is final, and the more creditable for asserting evidence over self-interest. There was no flight from Egypt, no wandering in the desert (let alone for the incredible four-decade length of time mentioned in the Pentateuch), and no dramatic conquest of the Promised Land. It was all, quite simply and very ineptly, made up at a much later date. No Egyptian chronicle mentions this episode either, even in passing, and Egypt was the garrison power in Canaan as well as the Nilotic region at all the material times. Indeed, much of the evidence is the other way. Archaeology does confirm the presence of Jewish communities in Palestine from many thousands of years ago (this can be deduced, among other things, from the absence of those pig bones in the middens and dumps), and it does show that there was a ‘kingdom of David,’ albeit rather a modest one, but all the Mosaic myths can be safely and easily discarded.” Because archaeological evidence contradicts biblical claims and shows them to be false, I am not a Christian.

I am not a Christian because prayer is useless and, in its very design, self-deluding. Prayer has been tested in a scientific manner, and failed. The Harvard Medical School Office of Public Affairs issued a news release entitled “Largest Study of Third-Party Prayer Suggests Such Prayer Not Effective In Reducing Complications Following Heart Surgery” on March 31, 2006. The paper appears in the April issue of American Heart Journal.

The release reads: “Researchers in the Study of the Therapeutic Effects of Intercessory Prayer (STEP), the largest study to examine the effects of intercessory prayer—prayer provided by others—evaluated the impact of such prayer on patients recovering from coronary artery bypass graft (CABG) surgery.”

It continues, “The STEP team, composed of investigators at six academic medical centers, including Baptist Memorial Hospital in Memphis, Tennessee; Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center in Boston, Massachusetts; Integris Baptist Medical Center in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma; Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota; St. Joseph's Hospital in Tampa, Florida; Washington Hospital Center in Washington, D.C; and the Mind/Body Medical Institute, found that intercessory prayer had no effect on recovery from surgery without complications. The study also found that patients who knew they were receiving intercessory prayer fared worse. [Emphasis mine.]”

Prayer could have evidence value in proving Christianity correct. If prayer resulted in amputees’ missing limbs growing back, it would be hard to dispute its efficacy. As things actually are, when people indulge in the folly of prayer, they almost always pray for things that might happen anyway. A husband prays that his wife gets a lucrative job. A mother prays that her son, trapped underground in a mine, gets out safely. Parents-to-be pray that their son is healthy. Grandchildren pray that their grandfather beats his cancer. By contrast, few widows pray that their dead husbands reanimate and come back home. Even though god is supposed to be omnipotent, people have the good sense not to pray for things that are impossible; deep in the subconscious, people very much want to maintain the comforting illusion of prayer’s usefulness. And that is why amputees do not pray for limbs to grow back. It is also why, if they did pray, and their limbs did regrow, there would be evidence value. Because prayer is ineffective and self-deluding, I am not a Christian.

I am not a Christian because Darwinian evolution by natural selection is true, but any clear-eyed reading of the Bible reveals the text (and not merely Genesis, but also statements by Jesus and Paul) is fundamentally incompatible with common descent. Darwinian evolution reveals that various orders of animal roamed the planet (and, indeed, went extinct) before other orders of animal even came to be. Biblical-literalist Christians argue that all orders of animal were created at about the same time; that is, humans and dinosaurs co-existed. Despite mighty efforts, such Christians have been completely unsuccessful in falsifying Darwin’s brilliant theory, although, theoretically, the geologic strata present a falsification opportunity. A biblical-literalist Christian could find horse fossils in the Silurian (among multitudinous trilobites). Alternatively, as requested by the late J. B. S. Haldane, a Christian could discover fossil rabbits in the Precambrian. Of course, though, as Jerry A. Coyne writes, “Needless to say, no Precambrian rabbits, or any other anachronistic fossils, have ever been found.” Because Darwinian evolution by natural selection is true, whereas the biblical creation narrative is false, I am not a Christian.

I am not a Christian because it is a solipsistic religion that places humans at our universe's center. There are very possibly 130 billion galaxies in our universe. A dwarf galaxy can be populated with as few as 10 million stars. Spiral galaxies—much more massive than dwarf galaxies—can contain hundreds of billions of stars. The Andromeda galaxy, by itself, has about a trillion stars. The Sun is one star. We are on one planet that orbits it.

Michael Shermer writes, “What science tells us is that we are but one among hundreds of millions of species that evolved over the course of three and a half billion years on one tiny planet among many orbiting an ordinary star, itself one of possibly billions of solar systems in an ordinary galaxy that contains hundreds of billions of stars, itself located in a cluster of galaxies not so different from millions of other galaxy clusters, themselves whirling away from one another in an expanding cosmic bubble universe that very possibly is only one among a near infinite number of bubble universes. Is it really possible that this entire cosmological multiverse was designed and exists for one tiny subgroup of a single species on one planet in a lone galaxy in that solitary bubble universe? It seems unlikely.”

Remember, too, human evolutionary history on our planet. Earth is approximately 4.54 billion years old. By contrast, Homo sapiens, in more modern forms, first made their appearance about 195,000 years ago. This, of course, means human-like creatures have been around less than one-hundredth of one percent of Earth’s natural history. And yet, for Christians, humans are central not only to Earth, but to our unimaginably vast universe. We, essentially, are what all of this is “for.” Talk about a prodigal god….

When one considers the size and age of our universe—and the inescapable fact of our ultimate cosmic insignificance—Christianity seems yet sillier for its stern moral proscriptions. Our universe has been in existence for between 13.5 and 14 billion years. Its enormity exceeds the mind’s ability to conceive properly. And, yet, the creator of this natural reality—the artist behind cosmic beauty and wonder—is perturbed…is rather miffed…about what humans on Earth are doing while naked?

Because Christianity ludicrously inflates humanity’s importance and centrality, both to Earth and to our universe, I am not a Christian.

I am not a Christian because the god of Christianity is too statistically improbable. Some Christians accept the truth of Darwinian evolution by natural selection (despite common descent’s incompatibility with the Bible), but believe god must be invoked to explain the appearance of that first life form, on which Darwinian evolution acted. That is, to these people, god is not required to explain biodiversity—Darwinian evolution does that—but, rather, is required to explain the origin of simple life. The problem with this is one of simplicity versus extravagance. In order to explain the appearance of monocellular life… we must appeal to an omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent creator deity who has the ability to monitor the thoughts, deeds and desires of every human who has ever existed while, simultaneously, listening to billions of prayers and, if so moved, answering them (while also, of course, reigning over heaven)?

Appealing to a god is laughably extravagant as an explanation for monocellular life and, indeed, completely unhelpful when seeking an explanation for our universe. Richard Dawkins writes, “Making the universe is the one thing no intelligence, however superhuman, could do, because an intelligence is complex—statistically improbable—and therefore had to emerge, by gradual degrees, from simpler beginnings: from a lifeless universe—the miracle-free zone that is physics.”

Dawkins continues, “To midwife such emergence is the singular achievement of Darwinian evolution. It starts with primeval simplicity and fosters, by slow, explicable degrees, the emergence of complexity: seemingly limitless complexity—certainly up to our human level of complexity and very probably way beyond. There may be worlds on which superhuman life thrives, superhuman to a level that our imaginations cannot grasp. But superhuman does not mean supernatural. Darwinian evolution is the only process we know that is ultimately capable of generating anything as complicated as creative intelligences. Once it has done so, of course, those intelligences can create other complex things: works of art and music, advanced technology, computers, the Internet and who knows what in the future? Darwinian evolution may not be the only such generative process in the universe. There may be other ‘cranes’ (Daniel Dennett's term, which he opposes to ‘skyhooks’) that we have not yet discovered or imagined. But, however wonderful and however different from Darwinian evolution those putative cranes may be, they cannot be magic. They will share with Darwinian evolution the facility to raise up complexity, as an emergent property, out of simplicity, while never violating natural law.”

Because god is too statistically improbable, and serves as no kind of explanation for either monocellular life or our universe, I am not a Christian.

I am not a Christian because religion all too often tends to be an accident of geography. Frequently, I pose a question to my theist friends who still follow the religion into which their parents indoctrinated them: Do you feel fortunate to have been born into the correct religion? Researchers have concluded 19 major world religious groupings exist on this planet. Those groupings are subdivided into roughly 10,000 distinct religions (which is not to mention all the belief systems that have gone extinct over the millennia). Leaf through the list of religions, and ponder just how different your life would have been had a different superstition been inculcated into you during your youth.

I would suggest that if a devout Christian, who was born in Topeka, Kansas, had instead been born in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, he would have been a devout Muslim. If Osama bin Laden, who is a devout Muslim, had instead been born in Athens, Alabama, he would have been a devout Christian. Religion spreads, passively, by the coincidental geography of one’s place of birth and, actively, by parents’ talent for inculcating their defenseless, trusting offspring. Some people seemingly have a predisposition to religious zeal; the religion to which they wed themselves has nothing to do with evidence and everything to do with inculcative history. The Christian apologetics that is utterly convincing to a person born in Hendersonville, Tennessee, would be infidelic venom to that very person, had he instead been born in Tehran, Iran.

Because a fundamentalist Christian, in an alternate reality, would be just another mujahid, I am not a Christian.

1. The Christian religion posits an all-powerful, omnipresent god who cares greatly about human beings as a whole and, indeed, who is concerned with each of us as individuals. Yet, in scrutinizing what is alleged to be god’s magnificent creation, the most conspicuous fact given by observation is god’s utter absence from it. If god exists, he is a silent, inert sluggard who cannot be bothered to make his existence manifest, despite the fact that, in biblical times, he was full of wonders, miracles and prodigies.

2. The Bible, which, according to Christians, is the inspired word of an omniscient god, does not contain the slightest shred of internal evidence to support that contention. Indeed, every single sentence in the entire tome could have been written by any first century commoner with the rare talent of literacy. Men’s ignorance in biblical times was so comprehensive as to be rather shocking; the Bible fully captures, and credulously regurgitates, the ancient ignorance of its time.

3. On Christianity, god is interested in human salvation, and the religion quite clearly holds that salvation is achieved through saving faith. It is interesting, then, that god has not been more proactive in disseminating this rather important point, given the fact that, even now, there are remote places that the Christian message has not yet penetrated. Christianity’s slow spread by the efforts of man indicates god, if existent, does not much care whether his message is heard.

4. With its bizarre tales and miracle claims, the Bible reads like any common collection of mythology. A world in which a virgin birth occurs, men rise from the dead, miraculous healings are effected and street magic is not mere illusion bears no similarity to, and has no relationship with, the world in which we find ourselves, where the laws of nature are immutable. When one reads mythology and legendry, one finds precisely the same topsy-turvy world one recognizes from the Bible.

5. Although even some Christians discount the factual veracity of most of the Old Testament, many still dogmatically hold to the myths about Moses and the Israelites. The best available evidence indicates the flight from Egypt, wandering in the desert and conquest of the Promised Land did not ever occur. Indeed, rather than the Israelites conquering Canaan following the Exodus, most of them, in fact, had always been there. That is, the Israelites were simply Canaanites who forged a distinct culture. The Old Testament contains nothing more than self-aggrandizing folktales.

6. One of the few theological tenets that are clearly open to scientific experimentation is prayer. And, in fact, the efficacy of intercessory prayer has been tested in a rigorous and credible way. The Study of the Therapeutic Effects of Intercessory Prayer (STEP), supported by the John Templeton Foundation, which attempts to wed religious and scientific thinking, found that intercessory prayer had no effect on complication-free recovery from coronary artery bypass graft surgery. In this case, prayer was tested credibly and it comprehensively failed.

7. The fact of Darwinian evolution by natural selection contradicts biblical Christianity and shows it to be false. Although some proportion of Christians has succeeded, in their minds, in melding the Christian faith with recognition of Darwinian fact, this seems a fruitless exercise. There is not a whisper of Darwinian understanding in the Bible, which, as Christianity’s foundational text, purports to speak to questions of origins. Any “harmony” between Darwinian thought and the Bible is the product of an elaborate construct invented by scientifically aware Christians.

8. The Christian religion is fantastically solipsistic with respect to the human animal and its place in the cosmos. The Christian message specifically says that humans are god’s special creation—made in his image—and that, of all the creation, he is principally interested in us. This notion, of course, arose in a time of immense ignorance of the cosmos. We are a single species, on a single planet, part of a single solar system, in a single galaxy, in an almost unimaginably vast universe. Humanocentrism is a luxury of ignorance we can no longer sustain.

9. To cite god is to invite an infinite regress from which there is no escape. Any god character who is complex enough to design a universe—let alone to monitor every human being who has ever lived, listen to and answer prayers, and send a son to die for our sins—is statistically improbable exactly because of that complexity. Inasmuch as Christians offer no explanation for god’s existence, it is all but ruled out simply because of the statistical improbability of unexplained organized complexity. We can explain the human brain’s evolution; Christians cannot explain the organized complexity of god.

10. The faith to which one adheres seems, in the majority of cases, to be quite directly determined by (a) the faith of one’s parents and (b) the dominant faith of the society in which one is raised. Young children trust their parents—a fact that, quite clearly, has evolutionary benefits generally. However, it also means they are susceptible to parental religious inculcation, from which it can be difficult to liberate oneself. One wonders how many people adhere to Christianity, or any faith, as adults simply because they were raised that way.

11. Homo sapiens sapiens have walked the Earth, in something approaching modern forms, for the last 100,000 to 200,000 years. This is scientific fact, and no thinking person entertains Young Earth creationist piffle. This means, then, that for tens of thousands of years human beings lived, struggled, suffered and died—and Heaven watched, arms folded, in silence. After this interminable wait, which likely lasted well over 100,000 years, god decided that maybe it was time to intervene. His method of intervention? A nauseating human sacrifice in a very remote part of Palestine.

12. The world looks exactly as we would expect it to look if there was no god and no special interest in human affairs. Our planet is plagued with natural disasters in which people are killed indiscriminately—without any regard for their supposed righteousness or evilness. We do not find the slightest hint of ultimate justice in the cosmos. And god, who supposedly loves humans so dearly, demonstrates his laziness again. When there is a hijacking, he never zaps the hijackers with heart attacks. When a crazed gunman is on the loose, he never turns the bullets into popcorn. Love is in evidence; hate is in evidence. Only god is not in evidence.

13. Christianity loves to cloak itself in the raiment of meekness and humility, endlessly drawing attention to how humble it is. Christians call themselves lowly, sinful worms in god’s eyes, desperately in need of redemption through saving faith in Jesus. Although Christianity features an unquestionable tendency toward self-debasement, it is also fantastically arrogant. Fearing that the creator of the universe is upset with you is equally solipsistic—indeed, betrays equal arrogance—as enjoying peace from the belief that the creator of the universe is pleased with you.

14. The notion of an afterlife—surviving one’s bodily death—seems completely incompatible with our current scientific understanding. A blow to the head can rob one of one’s memories. Neurodegenerative disease, in some cases, can result in what might be described as the loss of the self. Phineas Gage suffered a traumatic head injury, the lasting effect of which was a dramatic change in personality. As Victor Stenger notes, neurological and medical evidence strongly indicates that our memories, emotions, thoughts and, indeed, our very personalities reside in the physical particles of the brain or, more precisely, in the ways those particles interact. What, then, would make it into the afterlife? Vague, impersonal energy?

15. To threaten small children with damnation to hell strikes me as a particularly hideous form of mental abuse. Our imaginations seem to be most vivid when we are children, and our credulity is at its peak. To small children, weeping and gnashing of teeth, not to mention lakes of fire, are not metaphorical descriptions of existence apart from god; to the undeveloped mind, they are real and haunting. One can only hope, when they grow and mature, they realize, to be a deterrent, hell’s awfulness must at least be commensurate with its ludicrousness. Because hell is infinitely silly, to deter anyone at all, it must threaten infinite punishment.

16. On Christianity, moral facts exist, because Christians stipulate that morality—what is good and what is evil—flows directly from god’s nature. They contend that god’s nature is unchangeable—cannot be otherwise—and, therefore, morality is objective. Yet, in conducting an evidence-based interrogation of the natural order, one finds no moral facts. Earth’s biodiversity is a bare fact. A conclusion flows naturally therefrom: A fact necessarily exists about the origin of, or explanation for, Earth’s biodiversity. Nowhere do we find the necessary existence of a moral fact, or any evidence that one exists.

17. If, as Christians say, morality flows directly from god’s nature, then any behavior god exhibits, and any action he commands or endorses, is necessarily righteous on the Christian view. In Genesis 19:4-8, the Bible character Lot offers his two virginal daughters up for rape to the men of Sodom, who surround his house. In 2 Peter 2:7-8, Lot is called “righteous” three times. The Bible, on Christianity, is the word of god; therefore, one must conclude Lot’s offering his two virginal daughters up for rape is consonant with god’s objective morality. Deuteronomy 7:1-5, Deuteronomy 20:16-18 and Joshua 10:28-40 demonstrate that god, whose very nature defines what is moral, sometimes commands genocide.

18. Men have been inventing deities for millennia, and Yahweh is just one in the near-infinite troop. As H.L. Mencken observed, the graveyard of dead gods, wherever it is, is well populated. I have little doubt that Yahweh’s grave is already dug, and that perhaps it is alongside the final resting places of Resheph, Baal, Anath, Astarte, Ashtoreth, Hadad, El, Addu, Nergal, Shalem, Nebo, Dagon, Ninib, Melek Taus and Yau. Then again, Yahweh’s grave might be closer to those of Amon-Re, Isis, Osiris, Ptah, Sebek, Anubis and Molech. RIP Yahweh.

19. Human beings, although clearly the most advanced species currently living on Earth, are easily deceived, deluded, confused and baffled. Our minds are well adapted for survival and for dealing with “Middle World,” where things are not microscopically small or cosmically very large, but they are still evolved organs with inherent limitations. Through a long period of trial and error, we can now conclude that marshaling evidence—relevant facts—is the best, most reliable way for humans to approximate truth as we interrogate the world of experience. If Christianity is to be accepted, it must be on the strength of its evidence.

20. On scientific thinking, hypotheses are meritorious only to the extent that they (a) make predictions, (b) enable those predictions to be tested and (c) find that, upon testing, the predictions are confirmed. The Christian hypothesis, to its detriment, is exceedingly bad at having its predictions be confirmed. Let us take Genesis, for example. The creation chronology presented in Genesis represents a testable prediction. In recent times, science has been able to test that prediction. Rather than being confirmed, the prediction failed, because Genesis’ creation chronology is wrong. This is a strike against the Christian hypothesis. Archeological disproof of the Exodus narrative is another strike against the Christian hypothesis.

21. It has been said some people are so constituted that they cannot believe in god. I am not such an individual, insofar as I invite convincing evidence of god’s existence and workings. I shall not fall prostrate to god’s feet in any case, but I would believe god existed if the evidence were sufficient. Any moral opinions I articulate, including those in which I deem god’s actions evil, are expressions of my deepest nature; I am constituted as I am, and I can neither help nor change what fundamentally strikes me as grave evil, which would prevent me from worshipping god, irrespective of evidence for his existence.

This morning, while making what has become my daily trip to Rhology’s blog, I discovered a most interesting post. It seems a friend of Rhology’s wrote him recently requesting prayer, because he feared that, due to his possibly blaspheming against the Spirit, the creator of the universe might be upset with him. Even before reading Rhology’s response, I was struck by two things: First, I felt considerable sadness that Christianity has the power to rouse such fear in people who, in all other facets of their lives, do not permit their minds to be addled by nonsense. Second, I observed the intense solipsism that is deeply ingrained in Christian thought (such as it is). How else could one describe the absurd egoism of such concerns except as solipsistic? I replied in the comment box, briefly giving my thoughts, which led Rhology and me to a rather interesting back-and-forth exchange, to which I shall momentarily come.

Before that, though, I wish to delve a bit deeper into Christian thought in general. The overwhelming majority of my writings have to do with Christianity’s truth or, more precisely, its untruth, as revealed by our best available evidence. I do not seek to make a moral case against Christianity because, at present, we have no good evidence that moral facts (that is, facts about what is moral or immoral) exist; in any case, Christianity having what I perceive to be negative consequences has no bearing whatsoever on its truth value. Nevertheless, because this relates directly to the exchange below, I shall reference two moral concerns I have about the Christian faith: First is the aforereferenced egocentric solipsism lying at its heart and with which it infects its adherents. Second is the odious, noxious nature of some of its theological tenets, for example damnation in hell, which I recently deconstructed here. In the main, Christians attempt to paint their religion in the colors of Jesus, the Prince of Peace. If, however, one is unwilling to submit to their preachments, they often let the simmering threat system upon which Christianity is predicated boil to the surface.

As you read the following exchange, do consider these points: In his certitude and in the place he carves for himself in the cosmos, which one betrays greater arrogance? Which one is more likely to presume to know far more than he actually can? Which one is more apt to stand in judgment against the other?

Nihilist: I have nothing much to say here except to observe that fearing the creator of the universe is upset with you is equally solipsistic—indeed, betrays equal arrogance—as enjoying peace from the belief that the creator of the universe is pleased with you; the insincere raiment of meekness and humility with which Christian thought cloaks itself is a poor substitute for being genuinely humbled by the insignificance of not just each of us but, indeed, of our entire race.

Rhology: I'm not sure you really understand biblical theology and thought, then. There's nothing insincere about how I esteem myself - I *am* a worm, disgusting in my sin and loathsome in my kicking against the redemption and purification that Jesus has provided for me.

God is not pleased with me in myself. He is pleased with me b/c "it pleased God to crush (Jesus)" on my behalf. I don't expect you to accept that for yourself, but it's not very decent nor humble of you to act like you can read my mind and thus prove me a liar.

Nihilist: My comment was not particularly about you, nor was it an attempt to prove you a liar or accuse you, specifically, of insincerity. What is insincere is the pretended meekness and humility of Christian thought itself. You might say and, indeed, believe that god is not pleased with you in yourself. Nevertheless, though, at the heart of Christian thought is the fantastic leap of solipsism that the creator the universe is personally aware of the individual, concerned for the individual, interested in the individual and in possession of love for the individual. The knitter of the fabric of space-time...he who confected Alpha Centauri...he who twiddles the knobs on the physical constants... is concerned with YOU (as the individual). Again, in whatever fashion Christian theology might force you to declare yourself a disgusting sinner who is shameful before god’s eyes, this remains a staggeringly arrogant stance to take, in my view.

Rhology: Why is it a fantastic leap, given Christian presuppositions?

What's so hard to see about a God Who is all-powerful and omniscient and Who concerns Himself with little things AND big things? After all, "big" to an infinite God means the expenditure of simply a larger numerator over an infinite denominator. It's nothing.

What we have here is just further expression of your stubborn unbelief. Fine. But it's nothing more.

What's far more arrogant is for you, mere man, to call evil what God has called good.

Nihilist: Any moral opinions I articulate, including those in which I deem something (the actions of your god not excepted) evil, are mere expressions of my deepest nature. I am constituted as I am, and I can neither help nor change what might fundamentally strike me as grave evil.

Rhology: The man-centered pride of your statement is striking. One day, your knee will bow. You who have explicitly chosen to put your blind faith in "evidence" and its power to tell you the truth, ignoring the many problems with your view and the many factors that your worldview doesn't account for, would call the teaching of Jesus "evil"...you're in for a very unpleasant end. May the Lord have mercy on you and not give you the judgment you so richly deserve.

To close, then, I humbly present the answer I would give to any god who, judging me after my death, would confront me for disbelieving in him. In this case, I must steal from Bertrand Russell: “Not enough evidence, god! Not enough evidence!”

Can objective, prescriptive morality survive in a world without god? Certainly, a great many atheists seem to think so, including freethinkers for whom I have a great deal of respect, such as Christopher Hitchens, for instance. Recent books tackling the issue from a scientific perspective include Michael Shermer’s The Science of Good and Evil, which, in part, discusses the origins of moral instincts in light of our evolutionary development. Whether atheists have the ability to reference “good” and “evil,” “right” and “wrong,” “moral” and “immoral” in anything other than a subjective sense is an important question, and it is a question to which I have a rather disconcerting answer: No. With a proper, scientifically literate understanding of biology, the cosmos and the world in which we find ourselves, we must accept that we seem to be bereft of actual moral facts (that is, facts about what is moral and what is immoral).< ?xml:namespace prefix = o />

Given the near universality of some behavioral codes among members of our species, we can be extremely confident that Darwinian evolution by natural selection had some role in shaping our collective sense of right and wrong. There are numerous examples that could be cited, but, to select one, there are very few, if not no, cultures that revere cowardice and pusillanimity while reviling courage and bravery. Most cultures have some version of The Golden Rule, which urges you to do to others as you would have them do to you. And it is easy to understand why certain behavioral guidelines would be selected for as our burgeoning civilization came to be. A functional society—that is, a society that can grow, prosper, maintain itself and cooperate—will persist; a dysfunctional society—that is, a society that is self-destructive, antagonistic and consistently hobbling itself—will die off. Even before proper civilizations began to emerge, certain kinds of behavior in smaller bands also would be conducive to a band’s success, and thus be selected.

Evolution is powered by natural selection. At its base, natural selection is about gene propagation; selection favors those things that enable “selfish genes” that wish to multiply (yes, I am anthropomorphizing) to get as many copies into the next generation as possible. In a sense, then, human bodies are just complicated machines whose sole purpose is propagating the genes that built them. We have sex and rear offspring because our selfish genes want the maximal number of copies in the next generation’s gene pool. Physical traits and characteristics evolve because they increase biological fitness (that is, the ability to reproduce successfully). Selection works against those traits detrimental to biological fitness. Instincts and inclinations evolve alongside, if not in direct relation to, the physical structures of the body.

Why do human societies, almost without exception, embrace The Golden Rule? It seems inescapable that they do so because that inclination, along with others, increased biological fitness among our ancestors, whether they were part of roving bands, small tribes or more advanced civilizations. Proscribing murdering one’s neighbors or stealing from one’s fellows made good sense vis-à-vis a population’s survival and, thus, moral instincts were imbued in the individuals. In short, then, our moral sensibilities developed because they were useful. This is not unique to morality. Richard Dawkins writes, “When we look at a solid lump of iron or rock, we are ‘really’ looking at what is almost entirely empty space. It looks and feels solid and opaque because our sensory systems and brains find it convenient to treat it as solid and opaque. It is convenient for the brain to represent a rock as solid because we can’t walk through it.” A rock looks and feels solid and opaque because it is useful for it to seem so. Similarly, it was useful for intraspecies (or, at least, intratribal) killing, theft and savagery to be considered immoral.

But does what happened to be evolutionarily useful actually relate to a cosmic truth vis-à-vis giant questions of “right” and “wrong”? There is no reason to suppose so. Evolution has imbued other inclinations into our nature, in a way not dissimilar to moral ones. For instance, generally speaking, males are more promiscuous than females are; this is a fact of observation. What explains it? It has to do with differential investment in sexual mating. In the case of males, the supply of sperm is essentially unlimited and, what is more, following fertilization, the male conceivably could abandon the female and still have some confidence of his offspring surviving and, thus, his genes making it into the next generation’s gene pool. Therefore, evolutionarily, it is in a male’s interest, essentially, to fertilize as many females as possible; this explains promiscuous inclinations. For females, though, the situation is reversed. Compared with sperm, females’ supply of eggs is much more limited, and their physical investment in a pregnancy is hugely greater than for males. Evolutionarily, it is in a female’s interest to be choosy about by whom she is fertilized. Does this understanding of differential investment in sexual mating mean men ought to be promiscuous and women ought to be choosy? I see no grounds for such a conclusion.

Studies of evolution help to explain our innate inclinations, and we may follow those inclinations or go against them—there is no “ought” of which to speak. Just because natural selection imbued us with tendencies or instincts does not mean we are slaves to them, or they touch on cosmic truth. Richard Dawkins gives an illuminating explication of natural selection, saying, “It is all about the survival of self-replicating instructions for self-replication.” He continues, “Viruses and tigers are both built by coded instructions whose ultimate message is, like a computer virus, ‘Duplicate me.’ In the case of the cold virus, the instruction is executed rather directly. A tiger’s DNA is also a ‘duplicate me’ program, but it contains an almost fantastically large digression as an essential part of the efficient execution of its fundamental message. That digression is a tiger, complete with fangs, claws, running muscles, stalking and pouncing instincts. The tiger’s DNA says, ‘Duplicate me by the round-about route of building a tiger first.’”

Thus, humanity’s delusions of exaltation crumble in a heap. Humans, like everything else on the tree of life, are a mere digression to ensure the survival of self-replicating instructions for self-replication. This biological reality check is amplified by our knowledge of the cosmos. I can think of no analogy to illustrate how tiny a speck of the cosmos humanity represents. Indeed, even if we restrict our view to our own meager planet, human-like creatures have been around less than one-hundredth of one percent of Earth’s natural history. We are a single species, on a single planet, part of a single solar system, in a single galaxy, in an almost unimaginably vast universe that would have long since forgotten about us if only it had known of us in the first place. The moral questions with which we wrestle seem terribly important to us, as do our thoughts and our actions…even material things like our possessions and our homes.

Doubtless, moles are preoccupied with their underground burrow systems, too.

Preface: Axiom, as explained by Wikipedia: “In traditional logic, an axiom or postulate is a proposition that is not proved or demonstrated but considered to be either self-evident, or subject to necessary decision. Therefore, its truth is taken for granted, and serves as a starting point for deducing and inferring other (theory dependent) truths.”

Rhology (and, apparently, Vox Veritatis) expressed concerns about my use of “faith” in laying my evidentialist foundation. The questions they jointly prepared make blindingly obvious their mutual misapprehension of the role “faith” actually played (a temporary one, analogous to scaffolding in building construction).

Below, find my attempt to disabuse them of their wrongheadedness.

Rhology: Keep in mind that the JN has retreated to this admission of the faith-scaffolding b/c it has become clear that his First Principle - that evidence is the best way for humans to approximate truth - cannot justify itself. Any attempt to do so ends up in an infinite regress.

Nihilist: Although it is clear one of your preferred debate strategies is to cheerlead any concession you believe you have won from your opponent, you are here pointing out something that I have never denied. My Philosophical First Principle (hereafter, “PFP”), best stated as “evidence is the best, most reliable way for humans to approximate truth,” is a postulate (axiom, premise, etc.). I have defined a PFP as the lens through which an individual interrogates the world in which he finds himself. Before one can commence said interrogation, one must procure said lens. That is, before one may employ a postulate (noun form), one must…well…postulate (verb form). This postulation could be described as an act of “faith,” if one were inclined toward biased word choice. I utilize the scaffolding analogy because, once one postulates, and thus has a postulate, no further postulation is required; one simply employs one’s postulate “to erect one’s tower.”

Rhology: 1) I know you didn't continue with the scaffolding of faith. Why didn't you keep relying on faith? After all, you consider that faith was sufficient to get you to your big First Principle that you find so attractive, while that FP could never get you there by itself.

Nihilist: This question betrays a fundamental misunderstanding of the preceding discussion, which, although never laid out quite so explicitly by me, has been implied throughout our recent interactions. In order to obtain a postulate (axiom, premise, etc.), one must postulate; there is no getting around it. In that light, your first query makes little sense. You are essentially asking, “Since, in order to get a postulate, one must postulate, why not make postulation one’s postulate?” In raising such an objection, you effectively attempt to rule out postulates/axioms entirely.

Rhology: 2) Why did you choose this FP? It seems a completely arbitrary standard. Why not the equally-but-no-less-arbitrary "mustard is the best way to discover truth"? Mustard as FP is not self-justifying either, but one could just as easily make evidence-free faith appeals to it, just as you have to your evidentialist FP.

I don't expect the JN to go this route, but rather other commenters - the fact that mustard is a prima facie silly example makes no difference. Unless the argument for the evidentialist FP is successful, it is just as arbitrary as mustard.

Nihilist: I have described a PFP as being the lens through which an individual interrogates the world in which he finds himself. Here, let us focus on the word “lens.” I have worn glasses since third grade and, unfortunately, my vision is quite awful. Without my glasses, I would be completely nonfunctional…unable to work, drive, watch television or do much of anything. When I go to visit my ophthalmologist, he puts a machine in front of my face and proceeds to switch from lens to lens, based upon my guidance of what enhances and/or diminishes my vision. In choosing a PFP, one does essentially the same thing: In terms of interrogating the world of experience, which lens seems to make things most clear? Perhaps several lenses are acceptable…satisfactorily functional. However, it is only sensible to choose what appears to be the clearest, most sharp lens. For me, evidentialism represents 20/20 intellectual vision.

Also, I must say, your “mustard is the best way to discover truth” example seems a bit disingenuous. Remember that, generally speaking, in order to qualify as an axiom (postulate, premise, etc.), a notion must be self-evident. Looking at evidentialism first, “evidence” merely refers to “relevant facts” in the context of any given situation or point of contention. It would be difficult to argue that the usefulness of relevant facts is not self-evident. Conversely, the usefulness of mustard hardly seems self-evident by any conceivable standard. Also, in practical terms, I have no idea how mustard might be used for deducing and inferring truths that are more complex; it hardly seems a foundation upon which to build anything. Thus, your example suffers from definitional and practical problems.

Rhology: 3) The JN said:

I use faith once…as scaffolding…to lay my building’s foundation. This hardly equates to a life rife with faith appeals.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm sure you would claim that your life is rife with appeals to evidence. That's the best way to discover truth, after all.

So it goes like this:

(top)

| Answer |

| Question |

| Evidentialist FP |

| Faith scaffolding |

(bottom)

You appeal to something more basic to answer less basic questions. In doing so, how is it an avoidance of appealing to the faith foundation-scaffolding? This question is meant to unmask atheists' widespread allergy to claiming that their position is faith-based. Faith is for wackos and fundies, after all, not for rational people like atheists with rational positions like atheism.

Nihilist: Your “illustration” is wrong because the evidentialist PFP does not rest upon the scaffolding of faith as you imply. Rather, the faith scaffolding permitted the evidentialist PFP to be laid. [That is, the act of postulation allowed one to obtain a postulate.] Think back to physical construction for a moment: A builder does not lay his foundation on top of his scaffolding; if he were to do so, the scaffolding would become an integral part of the building’s structure. And, by definition, scaffolding is not an integral part of a building’s structure. Rather, scaffolding is “a temporary framework used to support people and material in the construction or repair of buildings and other large structures.” Yes - one must postulate before one may employ a postulate; however, it is not the act of postulation that serves as a starting point for world-of-experience interrogation. Postulation merely allows the interrogatory starting point to be established. Once it is established, there is no further need for postulation; this is why, like scaffolding, it is “removed” from the tower.

Rhology: 4) In what way is this evidentialism thing a FIRST Principle since faith precedes it logically?

Nihilist: A foundational postulate allows one to build a rising tower of conclusions. The scaffolding of faith enables one to postulate.

A foundational supposition allows one to build a rising tower of conclusions. The scaffolding of faith enables one to suppose.

A PFP allows one to interrogate the world of experience. The scaffolding of faith enables one to lay a personal metaphysical foundation (from which to interrogate). Only once the foundation is laid can world-of-experience interrogation actually commence.

Rhology, my longtime Christian adversary, whose intellect and facility with the English language have kept me engaged despite this blogalogue long since having become post-mortem equine savagery, has composed another attack on evidentialism and my articulation thereof. Hence, like a horror movie monster that is repeatedly resurrected for lucrative (and lesser) sequels, I have reactivated My Case Against God, though only to respond to this latest attack. Because Rhology likes to select snippets from my writing and respond directly to them, I shall quote those (where applicable) in italics before posting his rebuttal and, finally, my rejoinder.

Prior to delving into the multifarious issues, I shall quote my own definitions of “Cosmic First Principle” and “Philosophical First Principle”…definitions with which Rhology never expressed disagreement.

I would define a Cosmic First Principle as one that, quite literally, explains everything: Such a principle would presuppose nothing (not even the coherency of “principle” as a concept), yet, in itself and through itself, illuminate everything. Such a principle would be true, active and vital before any consciousness was around to grasp or utilize it; that is, it would in no way be dependent on humans, our sentience or our thoughts. A Cosmic First Principle would be there—true, active and vital—even before matter condensed in the cosmos.

By contrast, a Philosophical First Principle is an indivisible, unsplittable foundation of human thought. Taking certain things (including, but not restricted to, one’s own existence, one’s own sentience and the existence of abstract concepts such as principles) as granted (all those things are manifest, by the way), such a principle aspires to be a roadmap for efficacious reasoning. [Think of it this way: “Here we are…sentient beings on this planet in this universe. How best might we harness our minds?”]

Rhology: First off, I'd like to point out that he hasn't answered the questions raised here.

Nihilist: I have addressed every relevant point in your post in our assorted comment box discussions. I have not had much to say because your attack on evidentialism was misguided from its conception: Not recognizing the distinction between a Cosmic First Principle (hereafter “CFP”) and Philosophical First Principle (hereafter “PFP”), you conflated them, criticizing one for not being the other. In other words, you complained my PFP was not sufficiently CFP, despite the fact that they are substantially different concepts.

Rhology: No one who reads his blog or his comments would think that he is unsure or agnostic about whether he's right, about whether he is pretty sure that evidence is the best way for humans to approximate truth, but if he doesn't defend his own position and if he destroys mine, then he's left drifting in a morass of agnosticism.

Nihilist: On its own terms, as a PFP, that is, a lens through which an individual interrogates the world in which he finds himself, my position has sustained no appreciable damage. Again, the entire foundation of your critique was unwarranted conflation. This is illustrated when, in your evidentialism post, you write, “I asked him for a, one, (1) First Principle, and he provides one that is totally inadequate, to the point that he has to smuggle in numerous other concepts that he didn't mention.” Evidentialism, as I embrace it, might be insufficient according to CFP standards but, once again, it is not a CFP.

Rhology: And notice how he's vacillating. One moment he's crying "axiom!" to get out of the infinite regress of asking for evidence for the evidence for the evidence for the evidence for the evidence for the idea that evidence is a good way to discover truth.

The very next minute he's saying "evidence (relevant facts) can be marshaled to demonstrate evidence’s utility", thereby utterly begging the question.

Nihilist: My evidentialist PFP is axiomatic (a postulate or supposition)…is foundational. However, self-subsistence can be tested and, fortunately, my PFP passes. I constantly cite the mathematics example, but I shall do it again because, apparently, you have not fully understood my point. “Mathematics is the only way humans can reach truth” is a self-annihilating postulate because one cannot appeal to mathematics in order to show mathematics is the only way humans can reach truth. By contrast, “Evidence is the best, most reliable way for humans to approximate truth” is a self-subsisting PFP because one can marshal evidence to demonstrate evidence’s utility. You might call the exercise—drawing on evidence to substantiate evidence—question begging; in actuality, it is proof of self-subsistence. Indeed, it is definitive demonstration that my PFP does not annihilate itself.

Rhology: The next minute he's differentiating between a "Cosmic" 1st Principle (CFP) and a "Philosophical" 1st Principle (PFP) and claiming that his PFP is useful for observing and living in this universe. This... "cosmos", if you will. Hmm. Seems a little arbitrary.

Nihilist: This is just semantics-driven taunting. Call one “Larry” and the other “Moe,” for all I care. All that matters is recognizing two separate concepts.

I do not have to deal with the “brain in a vat” question because the location of my brain—inside my skull—is manifest.

Rhology: This deals with the concept in point 4 here. He's begging the question again.

"Well, obviously I'm not a brain in a vat. My brain's right here!"

For one thing, he's never directly observed his brain. He's observed his SCALP, not his brain. I don't encourage him to try it, but to stop begging this question, a bone saw would need to be involved.

Nihilist: Although I have never directly observed my brain, it has been seen before. When I was one year old, I fell down the basement stairs and suffered a skull fracture; I needed to undergo surgery and have a metal plate installed in my skull. During this delicate procedure, the doctors saw my brain: It was there, in my skull, exactly where it belonged. There is no reason to suppose that it wandered off in the intervening years. Anyway, I am still a living, thinking, conscious human…surely my brain must get some credit for that!

Rhology: Also, if you're a brain in a vat, you are simply being deceived by the electrical stimuli being fed into your brain by the evil alien/demon in charge of creating your illusions. Go ahead and marshal evidence that this is not the case.

Nihilist: Enter the Cartesian Demon, who is inventing the elaborate illusion I call reality. Can I be certain there is no Cartesian Demon? No, I cannot. It always shall remain a possibility (the likelihood of which is essentially inscrutable). However, in fact, the whole question is irrelevant. Here, I yield to Richard Carrier, writing in “Sense and Goodness without God.” The context is the consistency of our cosmos, and Carrier’s discussion dances dangerously close to addressing PFP (that, once again, being a foundational axiom for interrogating the world in which one finds oneself).

“…if the demon were really this consistent in giving us results, through which we satisfy our every goal and desire, there would hardly be any intelligible difference between what we call ‘reality’ and the world the demon is inventing for us. [The Cartesian Demon’s construct] would be reality, in every sense of the word we normally use. And since we observe some methods [of discovering truth] to work better than others, and indeed some work best of all, a Cartesian Demon would have to be arranging it this way, constructing reality for us solely in accord with a fixed plan it has chosen. In that case we have just as much reason to pursue the relevant methods for discovering that plan, and to abandon the bad ones, so we can gain the reward of a successful life experience from this mischievous demon. In other words…even if [the Cartesian Demon theory is true], nothing significant changes for us regarding method [of truth discovery].”

The only world with which to be concerned is the world in which one finds oneself—that is, the world of experience. If my existence is the elaborate illusion of a Cartesian Demon, this confected reality is, in fact, reality for me. The “actual reality” of my brain in a vat is not the world of my experience. With that, its relevance vanishes.

Second, the entirety of your line of reasoning is based upon what I deem to be a fallacious notion: that the bare facts of reality cannot be the bare facts of reality, but, instead, require “grounding.” The cosmos exists—this is manifest.

Rhology: 1) Prove the cosmos exists, and that you are not being deceived by a grand illusion.

Nihilist: Cartesian Demon. Redux. The world of experience is the only world with which I must concern myself. For me, the reality that I experience is reality. Some gratuitous reality beyond it, even if existent, has absolutely no relevance to my life: My consciousness is here…not there.

Rhology: 2) I love it - the JN wants me to bring forth evidence all the time for the existence of TGOTB, but when it comes to other things that make him uncomfy, all of a sudden, things are just "manifest". Arbitrary, again.

3) Very well then - TGOTB's existence is just a bare fact of reality. It doesn't require grounding. See, wasn't that easy when we just invoke the ipse dixit? Perhaps the JN thinks he's the infallible Pope of Reason.

Nihilist: One cannot claim just anything to be manifest; in order for that word to be applicable, the fact at hand must be blindingly obvious: The sun’s existence is manifest; humankind’s existence is manifest; water’s existence is manifest. Your particular god character could never be described as such…could never be placed alongside the afore listed bare facts. If nothing else, my favorite Christopher Hitchens quote from “god is not Great,” in which the Chinese express bafflement as to why, if god has revealed himself, he has allowed so many centuries to elapse before informing them, goes to show just how far from manifest Yahweh is.

Rhology: He's already shown he's willing to put on and take off the Pope of Morality hat when it suits him; now his authority apparently extends to even more areas of life than I originally realised.

Nihilist: I am endlessly bewildered by your morality-related snipes. I have been unfailingly clear in my rejection of moral truth. There is no reason to believe anything is objectively moral or objectively immoral; it is merely a matter of person-by-person opinion, analogous to whether one likes a film or whether one finds a joke amusing. To imply I claim to divine moral truth is outrageous, because I deny moral truth’s very existence. Any moral judgments I render are pure opinion…no different from my annual Top 10 Films list.

Abstract concepts such as principles can be dealt with by the human species—this, per the pattern, is also manifest.

Rhology: Humans may be able to "deal with" these concepts, but this speaks not at all to the question of whether they're true or not. The JN may have lost track of just what we're arguing here.

Nihilist: I am merely showing that the existence of principles does not need to be “grounded” within my PFP; the existence of abstract thought is manifest. That is, in the world in which we find ourselves, abstract thought exists…it is a bare fact of this world. Therefore, my PFP does not need, somehow, to “account” for it.

[Of CFPs] First, I share Russell’s concern that such musings exist solely in the land of metaphysics, having no real relationship with the world of experience.

Rhology: Your PFP is also 100% metaphysical, as we've seen and as you've admitted, sometimes (when it suits you). You can't prove evidence is a good way to discover truth by bringing forth evidence. What is your evidence for that?
See how he's forcing us to regress in our conversation? Suddenly we're where we were 3 months ago!

Nihilist: Your invocation of the Cartesian Demon theory ably evinces the extent to which you are wallowing in empty metaphysical musings. I, by clear contrast, am concerned with the world of experience. My PFP accepts certain things as “granted,” among those the cosmos, my species, me as an individual, my sentience, etc. I look the world of experience square in the eye and, with my PFP and the intellectual tools with which I have been endowed, attempt to interrogate it. As we shall see shortly, when we come to your “Flying Catfish” critique, you are doing everything but confronting the world of experience.

Ultimately, in terms of voluntary actions, one always follows one’s desire.

Rhology: I had asked him a question about morality - what one SHOULD do. He responds with a long paragraph about what humans DO. Apparently what IS is what OUGHT, but he doesn't always believe that. If he did, he would never, ever criticise any action, ever, b/c it IS. He does criticise certain actions, however, on moral grounds, so he doesn't really believe this. It's hard to talk to someone who's so inconsistent.

Nihilist: In fact, you asked, “Is there any compelling reason you could offer someone as to WHY they SHOULD accept your FP over mine?” This was not framed as a moral question but, instead, a practical one. To your practical question, I gave a practical answer:

Every voluntary action undertaken by a human is an attempt (successful or unsuccessful) to fulfill a desire. Suppose you are standing in the dining room, with the kitchen to your left and the den to your right. If you turn left and walk into the kitchen, it is because you desired to do so. Every voluntary action represents an attempt at desire fulfillment. Sometimes, desires are conflicting. Suppose you are a college student and your alarm has roused you. It is 8AM…time for class. Part of you desires to roll over and go back to sleep. Another part of you desires to rise, dress and go to class. If you do get up and start moving, it is only because you desired to do so—and desired it more than staying in bed. In fact, in the case of directly contradictory desires, one desire becomes dominant and the other ceases to be a genuine desire. Ultimately, in terms of voluntary actions, one always follows one’s desire.

That rambling preface was required to show my PFP’s worth. If evidence is an excellent way to approximate truth—and it is—then people would benefit from following my PFP because accurate, truthful knowledge enables them to align their behaviors with their desires. Every voluntary action undertaken by a human is an attempt to fulfill a desire, but if said human is filled with false information, his attempt at desire fulfillment might be entirely wrongheaded and counterproductive. Only with accurate knowledge can desire and action be aligned effectively. Thus, if I were evangelizing my PFP, I would make exactly this argument. If one uses evidence as a guiding light, the effectiveness of voluntary actions is maximized.

If you intended to pose a question of objective moral fact then I have no answer, because I reject objective moral fact’s existence.

You also referenced self-revelation through the Bible, but I do not see how that is a core essentiality.

Rhology: It is not an essential attribute for God, but objective revelation is essential for our epistemology. If we don't know anything about God, then... we don't know anything about God. This will be a very important point as these discussions advance.

Nihilist: And, in my reply to your original post, I anticipated this answer and responded in advance, saying, “I could simply say ECC condescended to reveal itself to me, and I was charged with passing along the news of the revelation.” Perhaps said deity seared its message into my brain, so I could never forget even the most piddling detail. Or, perhaps, over a period of many days, the deity shared an extensive revelation, from which I composed a thousand-page gospel. Yahweh/the Bible are not the only conceivable revelatory sources. Thus, lack of knowledge of their nature is not an intrinsic problem for my confected gods.

The Green God possesses:

* Omnipresence

* Omnipotence

* Omniscience

* Ability to create this universe and having done so

* Functionality as “grounds” for all logic, rationality, induction, and morality

PLUS...

When the deity, from his ethereal perch, looks down upon his wondrous creation, he "sees" everything with a slight tint of green. You see, this deity likes green, and so, his vision is tinted as such.

Rhology: 1) Maybe TGOTB *does* see everythg tinted green.

2) How is the Green God omnipresent if he has physical eyes with which he sees "green", like we do?

3) How do you know this god exists, and more to the point, how do you know he sees everythg tinted green?

Nihilist: 1) Perhaps he does. However, he could not simultaneously see everything tinted exclusively in green and everything tinted exclusively in red. He sees either with green tinting, red tinting, tinting of another color or no tinting at all. It could not simultaneously be exclusively green and exclusively red. That means Green God and Red God—although sharing identical core essentialities—are certifiably different. And, given those essentialities and an objective revelation to, say, me, you would have no justification for dismissing either as my CFP.

2) I never said anything about “physical eyes” or sight identical to our own. If a being is omnipotent, and wishes to see everything with a colorized tint, it can do so. If it could not do so, it would not be omnipotent.

3) As already noted, one could claim objective revelation, either with the message seared permanently into one’s brain or translated into a written gospel. The Bible is hardly the only imaginable gospel to claim itself “revealed truth.”

The Melodic God possesses:

* Omnipresence

* Omnipotence

* Omniscience

* Ability to create this universe and having done so

* Functionality as “grounds” for all logic, rationality, induction, and morality

PLUS...

* There is a melody that this deity finds endlessly pleasing. As such, in a ceaseless loop, that melody "plays" in the deity's vast consciousness. It does not dominate the consciousness, but serves as permanent "background music."

Rhology: 1) TGOTB *does* have endless background music.

2) You even admitted: "It does not dominate the consciousness". Precisely. This god is no different from TGOTB.

Nihilist: 1, 2) Perhaps he does. However, he could not have the specific background music you described (omitted here for space) and simultaneously have entirely different background music (say, reminiscent of heavy metal). Either he experiences the background music you described, the background music I described, background music of another variety or no background music at all. He could not simultaneously experience exclusively your music and exclusively my music. This means every god that has specific, exclusive background music is distinct from every other god that has different specific, exclusive background music. Given an objective revelation of each, you have an infinite set of god characters, each fully capable of serving as a CFP.

Of course, mixing and matching “green tinting,” “red tinting” and “heavy metal” variables is terribly silly; nevertheless, it is necessary to make a critical point. As long as a god character possesses the specified core essentialities (and Rhology has not objected to my list) and has condescended to offer revelation—if only to one individual—that god could be used as a CFP. And, as we have seen, for every exclusive color tinting and every exclusive background music tune, we have a recipe for different gods…infinite varieties of different gods…easily one for every human who has ever lived. Such is the folly of CFPs, which comprise little more than—presto!—defining things into existence.

Let us resolve to restrict our concern to the actual, hard, manifest world of experience.

Dear Rhology,

As I read your latest vigorous broadside against metaphysical naturalism and my humble articulation thereof, one word irresistibly came screaming to my mind: gold. No, this does not reference what some might consider your 24-karat intellect. Rather, it appears you are attempting, with much strain but negligible success, to split the atom. All this shall be fully explicated, but first a brief digression.

Suppose you have a block of gold and you wish to break it down into smaller pieces. Obviously, this is easy enough to do, so you crack it apart until you have several hundred small pieces of gold. But suppose you want really, really small pieces. Well, you could take a few of the smallest chunks you have and dice them up further, until they are really infinitesimally small. And you could repeat this process without end, creating smaller and smaller pieces of gold, right? Actually, no, you could not. As Richard Dawkins (in service of a different point) explained in “The God Delusion,” “Why shouldn’t you cut one of those pieces in half and produce an even smaller smidgen of gold? The regress in this case is decisively terminated by the atom. The smallest possible piece of gold is a nucleus consisting of exactly 79 protons and a slightly larger number of neutrons, surrounded by a swarm of 79 electrons. If you ‘cut’ gold any further than the level of the single atom, whatever else you get it is not gold. The atom provides a natural terminator….” In the case of gold division, the infinite regress is thwarted by the atom. The atom terminates the series.

Well, what then is a First Principle, philosophically speaking? A First Principle is a broad supposition—yes, a supposition—about the nature of reality. This supposition, once chosen, forms a foundation upon which grander conclusions can be stacked. Said another way, a First Principle is a postulate, from which to argue and with which to build. Because a First Principle is foundational—that is, it cannot be deduced from any other assumption or proposition—it cannot be “split” or independently proved. The best that can be said is that the postulate does not contradict itself. My preferred example of a self-annihilating axiom is “Mathematics is the only way humans can reach truth.” This First Principle fails because one cannot appeal to mathematics in order to show mathematics is the only way humans can reach truth. As such, it annihilates itself. My First Principle—that being, evidence is the best, most reliable way for humans to approximate truth—is materially different from the mathematics example because evidence (relevant facts) can be marshaled to demonstrate evidence’s utility. Because of this, my postulate is self-subsisting.

What, then, of your objections? Clearly, you are attempting to confect an infinite regress where none actually exists. Your series of “can you supply evidence” questions is analogous to trying to divide that smidgen of gold just a little bit further. However, just as the atom provides a natural terminator to gold division (whatever else results from further division, it is not gold), the First Principle provides a natural terminator to the series of questions. The First Principle is primary—step number one. Try as you might to dice it up, it is indivisible—or, at least, following subsequent division, you no longer would be dealing with the postulate (any more than you could split a gold atom and still have gold). As such, it is enough to say my axiom—unlike the mathematics example—is self-subsisting and internally coherent. And thus, on top of this supposition, all my conclusions are built.

Why do I feel confident in my First Principle? The reasons are innumerable. First, throughout humankind’s history, evidence has proven its worth, quite literally, a million times over. The most reliable systems of justice currently in existence revolve around the presentation of evidence. The most effective medical systems in the world are those that discover the relevant facts of illness and base their treatments thereon. In our everyday lives, we all operate according to evidence: When we catch a weather report predicting rain (evidence), we carry an umbrella (utilization thereof). When we notice brake lights illuminate in front of us (evidence), we slow our own vehicle (utilization thereof). When we (hazily) see a knife protruding from our belly and blood gushing everywhere (evidence), we get the knife removed and the wound treated (utilization thereof). The usefulness of relevant facts is manifest…is self-evident…precisely the kind of thing for which one should look in a First Principle.

Another benefit of my chosen postulate is that, far from starting me at the finish line, it could lead me anywhere. My evidentialist axiom could lead me to atheism or theism…to Christianity or Hinduism…to naturalism or supernaturalism. Even now, certain evidence would make me accept Christianity’s truth. For instance, god could speak to every living human being on the planet, sharing precisely the same message and offering exactly the same instructions vis-à-vis salvation. Some people might still reject the deity but, at the least, every human alive would possess direct spoken knowledge of god’s wishes. Alternately, Yahweh, in an instant, could carve his name onto the Moon. Or, on a lark, god could rearrange the planets in our solar system. [Presumably, given his omnipotence, god capriciously could swap Earth and Pluto, yet maintain the solar system’s stability and keep Earth’s creatures alive.] Prayer in Jesus’ name could result in amputees re-growing their missing limbs. Or, spectacularly devout Christian believers could have unexplainable healing powers, along the lines of limb regeneration. Evidentialism in no way precludes acceptance of Christianity’s truth; it simply requires actual evidence. Your postulate, by contrast, does equate to starting the race at the finish line. Atheism vs. Theism? Already answered. Christianity vs. Hinduism? Already answered. Naturalism vs. Supernaturalism? Already answered. Ad infinitum. When you describe your First Principle as being “far fuller,” you unwittingly verify my “start-at-the-finish-line” objection.

There is nothing more to add in rebutting section one, so I next shall turn to the scriptural issues on which we have touched.

In response to my observation that the New Testament is not unanimous in its stated path to salvation, you write, “Oh please. Are you seriously proposing that you are familiar enough with biblical hermeneutics and exegesis to make a serious argument on these grounds?” To my point that a decent argument could be crafted for salvation being granted by means other than saving faith, you respond, “Yes, please do. Make it a post on your blog and let's see how well you do.” Such a post shall not be composed, because it would have as much place on my blog as a post arguing that fairy dust—not pixie dust—is emitted from pixie wings. I do not care about such issues. Suffice it to remark that the documents from which the New Testament was cobbled together were written by several different authors, each of whose theological ideas had unique accents and distinctions. The differences between Mark and Luke, for example, rise above piddling storyline inconsistencies; the New Testament’s several authors did not have identical theological views (although, compared to the apocrypha, they do fall in line) and your claim to absolutely uniform consistency is not in evidence.

The other scriptural issue with which to contend relates to Jesus’ failed prophecy regarding the imminence of his second coming. In my initial communication with you, I quoted Matthew 16:27-28, whereas, in my second post, I quoted Matthew 24:25-35. You respond, “Oy vey. This is exactly what I mean. You jump from Matt 16 to Matt 24 and hope no one will notice! Did you even try to read ch 17-23 before jumping all the way to Matt 24? Why not just go whole hog and insist that I apply the same hermeneutical principles from the genealogy of Matt 1 to Matt 24?” Responding to my declaration that the weight of the evidence pointed to a failed prophecy, you write, “Well, since you didn't offer a counterargument nor present an exegesis of this Matt 24 psg, one can only guess at how you came to that conclusion.”

I do not know the degree to which you respect C.S. Lewis’ biblical scholarship, but I assume you are aware that, according to Lewis, my selection from Matthew 24 contains “the most embarrassing verse in the Bible” (Matthew 24:34). My reason for bringing up both passages was their similarity of language and seeming similarity of prediction. And, whereas, for my original selection, you could employ the excuse of Jesus’ transfiguration, that particular excuse is not available for my second selection. In any case, this also seems to me not to be particularly important. Suffice it to note that historians agree that first century Christians expected Jesus’ return to be imminent—as in, before they tasted of death. Although, of course, the first gospel was not written until around 70 CE, Jesus’ apocalyptic sayings seemingly convinced Paul, who expected the second coming of Jesus in his near future and during his own lifetime. Please consider 1 Thessalonians 4:16-17 and 1 Thessalonians 5:2-11.

In this area of your response, you say I come across as an atheist fundamentalist. You write, “You just KNOW all this is nonsense and you don't NEED to prove it. It's OBVIOUS. To EVERYONE. Except MORONS and FLAT-EARTHERS….” Your comments here remind me of something written by David Hume in his piece on miracles. Hume writes, for a just reasoner, “a miracle, supported by any human testimony, [is] more properly a subject of derision than of argument.” In the case of, for example, Matthew’s attestation to hordes of zombies roaming about Jerusalem (Matthew 27:52-53), derision is indeed the best counterargument.

My disproof? Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

For a claim such as zombies, that disproof is as sound and devastating as possibly could be mounted. However, I rarely take that argumentative tack.

You addressed several peripheral issues, but I think only three warrant further consideration. First is the Transcendental Argument for the Existence of God (TAG), which, although your preferred argument for the existence of god, I characterize as philosophical prestidigitation. In response to my assertion that I can “prove” the Ethereal Cosmic Catfish (ECC) using TAG just as easily as you can “prove” Yahweh with it, you write, “And I already explained why that is full of hot air.” In fact, you have not, so I shall restate the point concisely. TAG is the kind of argument that depends upon the nature of god in order to work; that is, certain of god’s attributes make TAG effective. [This is why, for example, you say TAG could not be used to prove Baal or some such deity.] However, you have failed to prove that every jot and tittle of Yahweh’s nature is essential for TAG to work. Unless and until you prove that, one rightly assumes only certain core elements of Yahweh’s nature are required. That being the case, I could endow ECC with the core essentialities that make TAG functional, and then add sundry variables to ensure ECC is different from Yahweh. After so doing, I could deploy TAG to prove ECC, and use the Catfish as my metaphysical foundation. That such an exercise could be done ably demonstrates the fatuousness of the argument; it is little different from Anselm’s ontological argument, as previously noted. If conjuring god with this trick, you might as well wave a magic wand and pull a rabbit from your hat.

Second, you express concerns about Carl Sagan’s observations. You accuse me of being “a product of Western-centrism” when I say that one’s chosen flavor of religion tends to be determined by parental/societal inculcation and coincidence of geography. Your countervailing evidence is (a) there are more born-again Christians in China than in the US, (b) there is a very significant missionary movement in India by Indians, and (c) South Korea sends more missionaries overseas per capita than any other country. These facts would mean more, however, if we did not live in a globalized world. Christians are extraordinarily media savvy, spreading their message worldwide through television, radio and even cinema. Moreover, Christians boast a robust missionary movement, familiarizing third-world-country dwellers with their superstition. Far more convincing to me (and the late Dr. Sagan) would be independent revelation from god himself, directed to people who had never previously heard of Yahweh or Christianity. You cite China, which reminds me of my favorite quote from Christopher Hitchens’ “god is not Great.” Hitchens writes, “One recalls the question that was asked by the Chinese when the first Christian missionaries made their appearance. If god has revealed himself, how is it that he has allowed so many centuries to elapse before informing the Chinese?” Whatever deities might have haunted Chinese history, none was distinguishably Yahweh. This is telling. Imagine if, around 2000 BCE, worship of Yahweh had simultaneously arisen in the Middle East, China, the Americas and central Africa. What compelling evidence that would have been! In actuality, primitive populations begin to worship Yahweh when believers in Yahweh arrive at their shores.

Finally, you are uncomfortable with my charge that Yahweh has an idolatrous fetish for free will. So what is idolatry? It is worship of any cult image, idea or object (usually in opposition to the monotheistic god character). I chose this descriptor largely because, in traditional Christian thought, god is characterized as loving. For the word “loving” to be comprehensible in the context of god, it must mean the same thing as “loving” in the context of humans: We are familiar with, and can understand, this definition. If, in the context of god, “loving” has a mysterious alternate meaning, then you might as well say god is “oglivok” because both statements would convey no actual information. [This is why I have said, for the statement “god is knowledgeable and/or powerful” to be meaningful, those words must be defined identically as in human affairs. Mysterious alternate definitions make such declarations incomprehensible.] In human affairs, to characterize an individual as loving is to say he has loving intentions and acts upon them regularly. No human who consigned billions of people to a place of endless, agonizing torture could be considered loving. Because you believe god does damn people by the billions, something must be undoing his loving intentions. The standard Christian answer is human free will. God’s devotion to human free will is such that he permits people to make their own choices, even choices that shall result in consignment to eternal agony. Because god’s loving intentions are unraveled by his affection for free will, I rightly observe god, if existent, has an idolatrous fetish for the free will idea.

None of the other points is substantial enough to justify extending this already-lengthy diatribe. However, I must comment on this curiosity: “I pray for your eventual repentance and salvation.” Thank you, Rhology. And I, for my part, shall sacrifice a goat and castrate a sheep on your behalf in order to appease Baal, who is well known as a jealous and angry god. I am sure there is a suitable altar in the Tri-State Region.

In all seriousness, I give you my best. I retain hope that the purest water of reason still—some day—might touch your lips, washing away the unfortunate stain of superstitious primitivism. Yes, the first jarring “splash” might shock you, but this is only the jolt of rising from slumber to brilliant wakefulness.

Warm regards,

Dan