Francisco Ayala, Distinguished Scientist, on Science and Religion

Francisco Ayala is a distinguished scientist and thinker, who left religious life to pursue science. His views on science and religion are worth hearing.

Kudos to Reason.TV for venturing beyond pure political philosophy and policy.

I can't help but take this opportunity to contrast the rather gentle Ayala with someone like Richard Dawkins, whose intellect I greatly respect, but not his manners. Ayala and Dawkins agree on some things in fact.

But one of Dawkins' greatest failings is toward his own stated objectives. He tries to accomplish several things with only one shotgun approach.

While he rightly challenges superstition and persecution of atheists with vigor, his own acid intolerance of religion and religious people undercuts the objective of his foundation, which is to "[s]upport the scientific education, critical thinking and evidence-based understanding of the natural world in the quest to overcome religious fundamentalism, superstition, intolerance and human suffering."

(Philosophical note: Dawkins goes beyond "methodological naturalism" which many scientists practice, including Ayala -- meaning not injecting God into a scientific inquiry ("creation science") so as to poison it -- to assert the non-existence of God. This is known as "metaphysical naturalism," and is not a scientific position, but a metaphysical one.)

Why should one embrace a life of science and reason if it means acting like Richard Dawkins all the time? He is not a model of reason himself. At least not in anything other than the classroom or laboratory practice of science. Where is the element of "humanity" and "meaning" in his approach? Is that part of reason? Scientific or otherwise? Perhaps, as Ayala notes, these are the purview of religion? Perish the thought . . .

Some Great Readings on the Problem of Evil

The New Atlantis has just posted a very interesting article from their latest issue about Charles Darwin's personal sensitivity to the problem of evil and suffering in nature, and how it influenced his views on evolution. It is entitled "Darwin's World of Pain and Wonder." Excellent. I recommend it highly.

It calls to mind an excellent book I read on the same subject not long ago, entitled "Darwin's God" by Cornelius Hunter, about which I wrote some thoughts at the time.

Another very interesting article on evil I found via Wikipedia. It is by a Catholic theologian, explaining the theodicies, or defenses of God against evil and suffering, offered by Saints Augustine and Ireneaus. I found it interesting because it acknowledges how many puzzling issues remain for the believer even today. Of course, the author attempts to resolve some of those problems in his theory of "salvation." Which I will continue reading with interest.

Commentary on a Recent Viral Video Defense of Religion

Some of my Facebook friends are passing around the video below. It's an interesting defense of religious belief, going viral on the Internet. It's good to see that not only the atheists like social media.



The argument made by the young Albert Einstein in this video is one taken directly, although in less scientific form, from St. Augustine, its original author.

Simply put, evil is not "real" but rather the absence or "privation" of goodness.

Augustine made this argument against the Manicheans, who held that evil was an equal and opposing force to good. If so, Augustine reasoned, then man has no free will, being caught up simply in the war of two opposites. A convenient deterministic theory for escaping responsibility.

An elaboration of this argument is made in a modern context by author Jean Bethke Elshtain in a talk given at GooglePlex, entitled, "Harry Potter, St. Augustine and the Confrontation with Evil." In it, she elaborates on the idea of evil as a parasitic form of non-being, using the examples of the Nazis and Voldermort from Harry Potter." It's a very interesting talk, parts of which I show my philosophy students every year.




Interestingly in the first video, however, the young Einstein makes a "reductionist" argument against his instructor. He cites darkness as the absence of light, not a reality itself at the subatomic level. The same for cold, which is the absence of heat, which is subatomic activity.

However, if one were to rely on the subatomic level, what would we say about love? Is it a reality at that level, or something else?

There are risks to denying realities that man experiences at his own level. That is why Einstein's instructor is onto something, and why the argument for atheism persists. Because just like our experience of love, we experience cold, or darkness, or myriad other evils at our own, not the subatomic level.

I recently had a conversation with a friend about this very same point. And about my concerns with the limits of Augustine's argument.

I sometimes think Augustine's argument is stretched too far from its original purposes.

If one proposes that evil is a lack or privation, then it is merely a zero or non-being. There is nothing to see in it, only to ponder the mystery, as Ms. Elshtain does, of its parasitical nature.

But what if one looks at the myriad manifestations of evil in the world? The privations of so many goods, that yield so many different and disturbing forms of evil, at our human level, not the metaphysical or the subatomic.

This is the gist of the black comic points made in first video in the comic series "Mr. Deity," which I truly enjoy, even as it disturbs me greatly. The episode is entitled "Mr. Deity and the Evil."



God is questioned as to why he wants SO MANY evils. Now, one could argue that God simply wanted to create so many goods. And each good must, by God's own plan face its own potentially horrifying privation. Granted, privation is the absence of good. I've got that.

But at another level, you must consider the black comic point above. What the heck is the plan for history when there is so much evil that seems to be driving it? Just think of the Nazis, for example. Or child abuse. Or cancer. History is moved greatly by the reality of evil. Privation is everywhere. Pervasive.

Collectively, we are resilient in the face of it no doubt. But I do not believe, as I noted in a previous post, that one can dismiss an individual's being scandalized by the experience of it, as Michael Novak has done at times, as a "morose" concern with it.

I have no answer to the comic point raised above. Except to recall the point made by Aquinas in the Summa Theologica, which scandalized me in graduate school. (II-II, Q. 19, Article 11. "Whether Fear Remains in Heaven.")

Aquinas argued that even in a state of beatitude in Heaven, man would still feel fear of God. This entire passage is contained in a section on "The Gift of Fear" contained in a larger treatise on "Hope." (I think this section bears re-reading on my part, for sure.)

I don't think Aquinas would be willing to call God "dark." But when one considers the prominent role of evil and suffering in the world, and even the scandalous and almost fetishistic obsession among Christians with evil and suffering, one can't help but feel disturbed. By them, and by God's apparent "plan" for "sacred history," so-called.

Is it in any way inefficient? If so, what does that say about the nature of God?

It certainly disturbs atheists, especially when they read the gleeful way in which Christians were willing to see them in a state of eternal damnation for their annoying lack of faith. Today, we have far more empathy and understanding of our fellow man, and should reject co-dependency with them, for their and our own sake. And recognize that their concerns are our own.

A Weekend with a Theme

I entered this past weekend with one thought. "This is the anniversary of my mother's death." I don't know what I expected of this anniversary. There is nothing about a 22nd anniversary that should mark it as special.

What's more, as I have noted in other places in this blog, I believe I have long since outgrown the religious habit of seeking signs; a habit that bound me closely to my mother in my youth. So, why would I expect this kind of anniversary to yield any thoughts of significance?

During my mother's illness, I sought signs more than ever, and thought I found them. I saw them everywhere. My mother would be OK. I only felt betrayed when they did not bear out.

In the years that have followed, my advanced education and teaching of critical thinking has taught me too much about confirmation biases and other quirks of the mind to allow myself to get so carried way again. Better to wander with no "signs" at all, I have thought, and see what happens. Reality has other ways to hit you in the head.

But perhaps this weekend, I still wanted something. Perhaps I am still a child who wants something from his mother. Perhaps also, the lingering effects of baptism are not so easily washed away. And the foolishness of religious sign-seeking is permanently embedded in me.

As I awoke this morning, one thought occurred to me. Whatever I thought I sought from this anniversary, I may have received. More on that after this necessary explanation.

My mother died 22 years ago from a brain tumor. Her death was traumatic to our family. She was the center of it. A source of strength. In the days that followed my father did not do very well, and things looked very shaky for all of us. Somehow, though, we managed to survive.

Her death also seriously shook my religious faith for the first time. In way that never recovered, thanks also to reinforcement from the events of 9/11 and a few years of natural disasters that followed, and other, deeper personal crises.

All of which revolved around hopes and dreams being snuffed out. My mother had just turned 48 when she died. The last of her children would soon go to school. And my mother would be free, finally, to pursue dreams she had put on hold for many years.

Her potential would go unfulfilled.

When I saw the infamous photo of the man falling to his death on 9/11, upside down, I meditated on what his hopes for the future were that morning, before he found himself in that nightmare. The same could be said for the water-swept dead bodies in the photos of "The Tsunami" and Hurricane Katrina.

I have always been an actualization person. I want very much to grow. I value the desire to grow in others highly. It inspires me and attracts me.

I have suffered as an idealist in Fortune 1000 to Fortune 100 corporations for 7 years now. I have learned many things about growth there, and grown enormously during that time. But I found those places did not really create the cultures they preached about. And it frustrated me terribly.

I despise statism for many reasons, but perhaps most importantly, because it shackles the natural growth potential of human beings.

I have come to learn over the course of my life that personal growth is highly important to me. And I continue to think about how it is frustrated quite often in life. And I wonder how a God can make that part of his plan, for his inherently forward-looking creatures.

***

I find myself in perhaps the toughest situation of my professional career. Out of work for now seven months, I have struggled like never before to understand my marketability, and myself. I have made unprecedented, expensive investments of time and energy in myself and my own career. And I am, for whatever reason, struggling to show for it.

Not in personal growth. I have learned a great deal about myself. I have valuable clarity about a number of important issues.

But in more tangible ways, things are very tough now. I won't be able to get by much longer at all. Things could become very bad, as winter approaches. And that will affect the "growth" of possibilities for the four shining stars of my life, my beloved children. Thoughts of their suffering, and restricted possibilities in life have haunted me in recent weeks.

***

My weekend began on Friday night with an unexpected phone call from my sister Susan. She had a baby just a few weeks ago. We don't often talk on the phone. Now would seem to be even less opportune for her. And yet, she just wanted to say hello, and to offer encouragement, and financial help if necessary. I was deeply touched by her call. It carried me for hours and hours after with a bit of hope.

On Saturday, I had many plans to continue my networking, my job search, and the daunting plans to build my own business. But I felt exhausted. The thought of continuing with all this effort for yet another, fruitless day, where there was only I and no RO on the I was not appealing.

My two sons roped me into the "Rocky Marathon." I would watch one with them perhaps. I didn't think they would watch the first Rocky movie for long. Too much Paulie and Adrian and not enough slugging in the ring. But, to my great surprise, they did watch. Along with Rocky II, III and even part of IV. With me right along with them. My plans would go to hell for Saturday, and I felt better. I also appreciated Sylvester Stallone's screenwriting like I had not before. Recognizing adult themes of suffering, and hope, and redemption like I had not as a kid, when I saw these movies for the first time.

Sunday morning, I returned from church, which I left earlier than ever in my life, to find the boys ponying up their own money to watch "Rocky Balboa" on demand. OK, another Rocky movie. I'll bite again. And more admiration for Stallone, especially when he, playing a "has been" in the movie, lectures his son about the importance of getting up again after being knocked down.

Sunday afternoon we took the kids to Sunken Meadow State Park, where the kids just swam. I took their pictures along the rocky beach, confident that some day we would all look back on those photos fondly. And I forgot nearly all of my worries.

And then, Sunday evening, when everyone was asleep, I read a small pamphlet from the Five O'clock Club, which talked about the daunting challenges of the new economy, as well as the great rewards that would follow if workers would only take charge of their own careers. New growth, new flexibility and constant change in response. But all built around a vision that comes from deep inside, which, when acted upon, can be deeply satisfying.

And then, oddly, a chance encounter with Joel Osteen on my television. A man who combines religious preaching with a gospel of self-help and success. I respect his conviction, but I don't accept uncritically his assertions. To me, they often lack evidence.

By strange coincidence however, this night, I found him repeating the same theme I heard from Rocky Balboa earlier in the day. When life knocks you down, he said with his trademark squint and a smile, you have to keep getting up. He cited his friend stricken three times with cancer, and other anecdotes. What can you say to that? It's not an argument. To me it simply seemed self-evident. What else can you do, unless you want to lay down and die?

In the silence of Sunday evening, I found myself wondering why some people choose to look at the good anecdote, the hopeful one, and not the bad one, as I often do. Why is our world half beautiful and half horrible? Which makes you more of a fool? Despair? Or hope?

As I awoke this morning, I realized that my entire weekend, which went nothing as planned, was filled with themes of hope. From start to finish.

An anniversary gift from my mother? Perhaps.

Confirmation bias? Perhaps.

Obedience, or Abuse in Mother Theresa's Order?

Years ago I would have listened to this fascinating interview between John Batchelor and former Missionary of Charity Collette Livermore and thought she was obviously "proud" and under the influence of dark forces. (Download Hour 3 from the web page, and begin the podcast at 19:25 for the interview.)

Now, after years of my own struggles with the human dimensions of Catholicism in particular cultural forms, I see Livermore on a journey of painful inquiry much like my own, over what is proper for Roman Catholicism.

Livermore made a commitment as a young girl to help the poor by joining Mother Theresa's Missionaries of Charity in India. But she could not stay on, due to the pain the order's superiors inflicted upon her.

As she recounts in the above radio interview, and in greater detail in her new book, Hope Endures, her efforts to help the poor were attacked for bureaucratic reasons, and for authoritarian ones. Her motives were portrayed constantly as being more prideful than charitable.

No one can know for sure. Not even her superiors, by the way.

This woman, now a secular doctor, strikes me as sincere and of good will. She was clearly stunned by her superiors' constant guessing at and demeaning her motives. One gets the sense that in this environment, authority became a license to abuse.

It's not an uncommon story. Rarely do the humans who inhabit saints' religious orders share the "charism" of the founder. The question Livermore raises however, is did these abusive individuals do their acts of uncharity with the approval of Mother Theresa? Because Mother Theresa felt such humiliation was a refuge from the greater problem of doubt?

Better to live in uncertainty about your own worth, than God's worth in your life?

The question is briefly touched upon in the interview. But I sense from it that there is no definitive answer, only speculation.

I'll leave it to the Church to decide how this story affects Mother Theresa's case for sainthood. From my perspective however, the ability to live with doubt, questioning, even being scandalized by evil in the world and the inscrutable nature of the First Cause's universe is all part of the essential struggle of faith and reason. One almost gets used to it as the background noise of a life in pursuit of God.

I can't speak for the ultimate conclusions of Livermore's book, which I will have to read. But, this interview angers me, because I care about religion, and don't like the idea that unjustified, unverifiable, and ultimately codependent acts of humiliation would be used as an answer to doubt.

Dueling Philosophical Movies

Following on dueling political documentaries by and against Michael Moore, now we see, dueling philosophical films?

"The God Who Wasn't There." vs. "Expelled." A good thing? This marks an interesting trend. I suppose it is good to see more philosophical subject matter in the public square, as filmmaking has become more democratic.

My only concern, which I can see in the trailers for many of these films, is to latch on the most extreme example of theism and atheism, in censorship and hate. And the most codependent behaviors, to become codependent in turn.

What's the answer? I don't know. The marketplace must decide.

But each film pulls its audience in some way into reactive behavior against extreme opponents. That is a problem. Are boring university seminars the only answer?

On Supposedly Seeing Signs

Three times in the last two weeks friends have asked me whether I am going to return to stand up comedy. (For the record, I would like to. Just a matter, as always, of finding the time.)

When the second friend asked me, and I told her that she was the second person, she replied somewhat playfully, "See, it could be a sign."

I found myself surprised by my response, which was truthful, but so long as it remained publicly unspoken, more tentative: "I don't believe in signs anymore."

I have been pondering the implications of this, my belief, for some time now. (Note, this too, is a "belief.") A belief born of what I would call a personal backlash against my own pious self deceptions for many years.

Among these pious self deceptions: seeing signs about whom to date, what career to pursue, or even that my mother was not going to die of cancer at 48, as she did. (I saw signs for that on bumper stickers that happened to show up on cars at just the "right time." Her church friends saw other signs and gladly interpreted them for me both before and after her death.)

Does such a skeptical belief, born of dissatisfaction and sometimes even disgust with a particular culture's understanding of how God works in a particular time, and the wasted time it caused me, make me irreligious?

I would like to think not. I would like to think that I am looking for a more pure form of connection with the ultimate reality. And yet, I wonder, can one expect a pure intuition of the ultimate reality while living any kind of normal life? Is it really possible not to look for signs?

Maybe there are more pure "signs" than ambiguous bumper stickers seen at just the right time? For example, the beautiful face of a child. Is it a sign of God's love? Or, my persevering wife?

I have frequently wondered whether my new found semiotic deconstruction has a stopping point. Or, does it obliterate everything that is significant in my life -- everything that would mediate between me and the First Cause.

I have often wondered whether I can make decisions anymore, given this skepticism. Is any direction in life "important?" I have become deeply skeptical of having any "enthusiasms" about anything. This is very unlike what I used to be.

And yet, the strongest enthusiasm that I have is love. I shudder to think that I could part with the enthusiasm for my child. Yet, I shudder a little less to think that buying into the child as sign means I have to buy into the bumper sticker too.

Perhaps all signs that come forward to mediate must themselves be mediated and tested? But where does that stop (thank you, Charles Peirce), and what is to stop the self deception one would impose on any sign? Grace? (Which we often "discover" in signs.)

I don't know.

Hitchens is Not Great?

Although I do not always agree with him, I admire Christopher Hitchens' intellect and persuasive power. When he wades into religion however, like many of his fellow "new atheists" such as Sam Harris and Richard Dawkins, he is out of his depth -- except of course, when beating up the most simple of fundamentalists.

Peter Berkowitz has written a fine piece for the Wall Street Journal on this "new atheism" and its lucrative books sales. He also takes particular issue with his friend Hitchens' "God is Not Great." Good reading.

One Christian's Take on Dawkins' Militant Atheism

Interesting interview with Alister McGrath, former atheist, now a Christian, about debating atheist media superstar Richard Dawkins. His take: Dawkins dismays his fellow atheist intellectuals because of his sloppiness and acidity, but appeals to those atheists around the world who are concerned about an apparent resurgence of (often fundamentalist) religion.

Also part of this conversation: does the atheist Dawkins help balance out religious fundamentalism because he forces people to think seriously about religion? Personally, I think that such attacks do cause people to think more about the relationship between religion, myth and science. But the rhetoric of those attacks can cause serious misunderstandings on both sides.

Mr. Deity

Okay, I am laughing with a great sense of guilt, but laughing all the same at Mr. Deity, another hilarious new web series looking at God's plan as seen through the eyes of man.

Or is it man's plan, as seen through the eyes of God? I'm not sure.

Similar in spirit to God, Inc. which I described in a previous post, Mr. Deity portrays the workings of universe as organized by a trinity of all-too-human individuals resembling the staff of a showbiz startup. (Which is what they really are!)

Mr. Deity is an aging, absent-minded hipster, "Jesse" (a.k.a. "Jesus") is a dim-witted metrosexual, and Larry a nebbishy administrative type.

And then there is Lucy, Mr. Deity's bitchy ex.

How am I, a critical-minded believer, supposed to feel about this? Is this show truly a guilty pleasure?

Surely some religious people will be swearing a fatwa out on Mr. Deity. And some atheist/skeptic types, such as Michael Shermer, are already happily endorsing the series for their own reasons.

But if you read the FAQs on the series from its producer and director Brian Keith Dalton, you will see it is decidedly middle-of-the-road, and humor-focused:

"I am a formerly religious person (non-bitter), and as such, have great sympathies for the beliefs and feelings of religious people. I love the fact that they are concerned with the big issues like Good and Evil, Existence, Creation, etc... I don't always agree with the answers they provide to these questions, but I deeply respect their concern. Our goal here is not to mock religion, but to use it as a foundation for the humor. I'm thrilled that so many religious people have written to tell me that they love the episodes. In future episodes, I intend to turn the tables a bit and poke fun at what I call the "angry atheists" (of whom I am not fond). We'll see if they take it so well."

What better way to get some perspective on the silliness of life than to pretend you are divine. It makes perfect sense.

My own feeling about this, and I might be wrong, is that you really can't get offended by too many jokes using a limited view of the deity unless your own view of the deity is rather limited. What do you think?

From Crackle: Mr. Deity and the Messages - Episode 4

Einstein on Mystery

As part of a great online exhibit from the American Institute of Physics about the life and works of Albert Einstein, one section contains his views of the relationship between science, philosophy, art and religion. Einstein notes:

"The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science. Whoever does not know it and can no longer wonder, no longer marvel, is as good as dead, and his eyes are dimmed."

I think this sums up the mindset one would hope to find in any philosopher, theologian or scientist. Check out this online exhibit when you get a chance. It's very interesting.

Another Fellow Traveler Takes on Dawkins

Another interesting critical review of Richard Dawkins, this time by Irish atheist Michael Fitzpatrick, for Spiked.

Fitzpatrick criticizes Dawkins' anti-religious bigotry and selective focus on the evils of religion, when there is a far bigger pseudo-scientific fish to fry (the radical environmental movement) in his own backyard, which, according to Fitzpatrick, is also far more destructive.

An acknowledgment of the reality of pseudo-science or junk science by Dawkins would knock him off the moral high ground. If science, or at least those who claim to love it, can be fanatical and irrational, then religion cannot be the sole force of evil in the world, or the sole opponent of progress.

Andrew Brown Highlights Richard Dawkins' Own Fanaticism in "The God Delusion"

Reactions to Richard Dawkins' latest and popular work "The God Delusion" have been varied. To those intimidated by Dawkins' contempt for religion, it may be heartening to know that even his allies recognize weaknesses arising from his scorn.

One such fellow traveler on the road to atheism or agnosticism has a particularly interesting review. Andrew Brown in Prospect highlights some of Dawkins' weakest arguments, including his historically disingenuous claim that atheists are not violent in the name of atheism. Brown makes quick work of this one.

Dawkins is right to criticize many aspects of religious fanaticism, but wrong to blame them on religion per se. Mankind has an alarming propensity for fanaticism no matter the subject. Dawkins' own inability to see the potential for fanaticism among atheists is itself fanatical.