Thursday, February 10, 2011

Review: God is Great, God is Good

So I am home in Arkansas and it turns out that when you post on your public blog that you are an atheist you can be pretty sure that your grandparents will read it. So a while back I had lunch with my grandfather and we spent it talking about my atheism. His arguments, if I recall correctly, were "What do you think of the scientific principle that something cannot come from nothing," which is a) not scientific but rather philosophic, and b) actually directly contradicted by scientific evidence; "Evolution cannot explain love or morality," which is just false; and "If you are right, we will neither of us ever know it, but if I am right, you lose," which is of course Pascal's Wager, which is a) not a particularly valid reason for believing anything, b) based on a false dichotomy - if the only choices were between christianity and atheism, sure, but they aren't - you also have islam and buddhism and hinduism and scientology and raelianism and shinto and wicca and so forth and so on, and you have to pick the right one out of hundreds if not thousands of belief systems or you lose, and c) based on the assumption that neither being christian nor atheist has any relevant impact on the quality of this life, which is questionable at best. In fact, my grandfather went on to say that he thought there was no life better than that lived by christian principles, which I think is only a compelling line of reasoning if you have basically no experience with godless people in this country. But to my grandfather's credit, he politely listened to me explain all (or at least most) of the above, and it seemed to make sense to him. See I don't get my family at all - they are very intelligent and even open-minded to a point but this has never prevented them from being creationists or using Pascal's Wager as an argument. Anyway then my grandfather handed me a book called God is Great, God is Good which is a selection of essays by various Christians, pretty much explicitly targeted at what is called the "New Atheists" - Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, Sam Harris, and so forth. So I'm going to go through this book and review it, but first I should make my position vis-a-vis the "New Atheists" clear.

I am not a New Atheist. I have never read any of Dawkins or Hitchens, though I probably should. I follow two New Atheist blogs: Pharyngula, by PZ Myers, and Daylight Atheism, by Ebonmuse. And I recommend both of these, particularly Daylight Atheism, and I agree with their positions on issues nine times out of ten, but I am not a New Atheist. What I am, first and foremost, is an Existentialist - which means that Camus, Sartre, Kierkegaard, and Dostoevsky are the people I agree with far more often - and you may have noticed that half of those people are christian. If you read Camus' The Plague (and you really should), it presents several characters, each with their own way of coping with the world. One of these characters is a Jesuit priest named Father Paneloux, and at the crux of the novel, he and almost all of the other important characters watch the effects of an experimental serum administered to a child afflicted with bubonic plague. The only effect the serum has is to drag the child's death throes out almost interminably, and afterward, one of the characters asks Father Paneloux essentially, How can you believe in God if this is what He does? Paneloux takes a long time to reach an answer, and when he does, it is that God is unknowable, that his ways are not ours, and rather than use this, as it is almost always used in my experience, to simply dismiss the problem of evil and to retreat into a fantasy divorced from reality (easy enough to do when you're middle-class and white in the First World), Paneloux instead comes to the apparently horrific conclusion that one's will must be in accord with God's, and that if God's will is to slowly torture a child to death, then we too must try to will that. Ultimately, the conclusion Paneloux reaches is that it is illogical for a priest to call in a doctor. Needless to say, this conclusion kills him when he too succumbs to plague. (I can't really do Paneloux or Camus justice here - you really must read the novel.) But the point is that this way of coping with the world is nowhere condemned in Camus' novel. It's portrayed, rather, as a meaningful and valid existential choice. It's not the one I choose, but the point is that I can have respect for and even approve of the religious choice.

Now, do I think most religious people in the United States or in the world have made that choice? Hell no. They live in denial. They make excuses for God. Do I think that religion, at least as practiced in the United States, is bad for society? God, yes. (Anyone who wants me to have even an iota of respect for their beliefs, why don't you stop lying to children about how evolution is false, and more importantly, how about you stop denying people I love equal rights? Seems reasonable enough to me.)

Where I differ from the New Atheists is this: they take truth to be the primary (and almost the only) criterion for beliefs, although to their credit they realize that they cannot be talking about absolute truth, but only whether beliefs are more or less true than other beliefs. This I cannot do - it is imperative, true, to ruthlessly confront oneself with reality as much as possible, to really plumb the depths of the absurdity of one's beliefs. But if, after that, one chooses to continue to believe the absurd (and I do not think there are truly non-absurd options available) then this, I think, is making one's existential choice, and that is good. But anyway, this apologetics book I have here: let's go through it.

1) William Lane Craig, "Richard Dawkins on Arguments for God"

Bit of a disadvantage here, never having actually read Dawkins, but I'm more concerned with Craig's arguments than I am in his reading of Dawkins anyway, so onward. Okay, first we have the Cosmological Argument, which Craig formulates as follows:

1) Everything that begins to exist has a cause.

2) The universe began to exist.

3) Therefore, the universe has a cause.

Note that the word "begin" is doing a lot of lifting for Craig. Had he left it out, and said instead, "Everything that exists has a cause," then it could be of course objected that this would require that God have a cause, and that cause would need a cause, and so forth into an infinite regress which Craig so deplores. However, it is unclear that the statement, "Everything that begins to exist has a cause," is any more true than the statement, "Everything that exists has a cause." It is, technically, a weaker claim, but as we have absolutely no experience of anything that exists without, at some point, having begun to exist, we are forced to conclude that, as far as we can tell, the statements have equivalent truth value. But one of them allows Craig's argument, and one spirals it into an infinite regress! To prefer one statement over the other is nothing more than special pleading - everything that exists has a cause, except God. It doesn't apply to him.

Further, I don't think that premise 1 is even true. My understanding of quantum physics has it that, for instance, particle-antiparticle pairs spontaneously form and annihilate in vacuum. Whether that amounts under any circumstances to the spontaneous creation of a universe, I don't know. But it does cast doubt on Craig's argument.

But you know, I'm fine with the conclusion of the argument. The universe (as we know it, that is, from the Big Bang until now) has a cause. However, my understanding of cosmology (and I am admittedly a layman) is that the state of the universe just pre-Big Bang was a singularity, which means that no information about prior states of the universe was preserved. Far from confirming Craig's claim that the Big Bang represents creation ex nihilo, it seems to me that this makes his statement completely unjustified. The most we can say about the universe pre-Big Bang is that we can say nothing about it. Note, too, that as time and space and the laws of physics were created during the Big Bang, the universe prior to that may well have had no resemblance to our own in any intelligible respect - including entropy and causation itself. This makes Craig's subsequent argument mostly moot, but let's follow along anyway - he makes some rather awful mistakes which I feel I should point out.

Let's first examine Craig's misuse of Ockham's Razor, which he says states that one should not multiply causes beyond necessity. I believe that a more accurate rendition of the principle would be that one should not multiply entities beyond necessity. Sadly, Ockham's Razor is, though an incredibly useful rule of thumb, and indeed one of the most reliable heuristics we have, it is not absolute. And it certainly cannot be used to say that an eternal entity is more probable than an infinite regress of events. To speak of an eternal entity is to posit an entirely new, unknown species of entity. This is the kind of thing Ockham's Razor is designed to prevent. To try to simply count the entities involved and then to say the one with fewer entities wins is to entirely miss the point of Ockham's Razor. Further: if we were to follow Craig's argument to its logical conclusion, we would be forced to admit that the only universe that exists is one moment of our consciousness, with illusory memories and illusory knowledge of an illusory externality. This (since Craig fatuously has declared "mind" to be "startlingly simple" - perhaps he means merely "divine mind", but I am led to think otherwise) would be by far the simplest explanation for the universe, and the one with the fewest entities. Craig's misuse of Ockham's Razor has inadvertently but irresistibly led him to solipsism. I'm going to assert that solipsism is an unacceptable point of view and move on, if there aren't any objections.

Now Craig gets to the good stuff - the cause of the universe, he argues, must be personal, because it is timeless and immaterial, and there are only two things which possess these properties: mind, and abstract numbers. Leaving aside his extremely controversial and not-well-justified statement about the nature of numbers, we turn to his assertion that there exists this thing called 'mind' and that it is both timeless and immaterial. William: you do not get to posit things like that. What you are calling 'mind' is, first of all, inextricably bound to time. Your consciousness is dragged whether it will or no from one moment to the next. This is not timelessness. If you wish to reply that memory counts, first, no - there is an enormous and qualitative difference between memory and experience, and second, we have no memory of the future, which again doesn't look a lot like timelessness. As Lewis Carroll might put it, "It's a poor sort of timeless mind that only works one way." Second, positing that mind is immaterial flies in the face of all the scientific evidence which points to the identity of the human mind and the human brain - the case of Phineas Gage is the most obvious example, but the scientific literature is simply resplendent with these cases. The problem of consciousness - and it is a problem - is something I will discuss in a later essay - I merely wish to point out here how totally unjustified Craig's wild assertions are.

Craig has another argument for why the cause of the universe must be personal, and it is even worse. Given that the first cause of the universe is beginningless, and that the universe began to exist a finite amount of time ago, the cause of the universe must be personal, he says, for a non-personal cause would have created the universe infinitely long ago, and only a personal cause could choose to create the universe a finite amount of time ago. William: literally two paragraphs ago, you called the first cause of the universe "timeless". As in, "outside of time". Now you are using the word "beginningless" to suggest, instead of timelessness, merely an infinite past. Hey, William, pop quiz: when was the universe, including space and time, created? How about, "at the beginning of time"? There's no such thing as "before time" - the concept is incoherent. I'm going to assume good faith here, William, and merely conclude that you are an idiot. Is this the best Christendom can muster against the New Atheists? (Answer: no, it's not. Alvin Plantinga, for instance, does a much better job handling Dawkins at the end of this book. He's still wrong, but he's much less stupid, and much more of a gentleman, than is Craig. I know, of course, that the tone in this debate is vitriolic on both sides, and I'm (obviously) okay with that, but the only thing worse than an idiot is a smug idiot, and Craig couldn't be smugger if he had just been awarded top prize in the annual "You're Always Right" competition for the third year running and Dawkins was the guy who had to hand the trophy to him.)

I'm also pretty sure Craig is blatantly misreading Dawkins, but I don't have The God Delusion on hand, so this will have to remain an unwarranted aspersion (but if someone wants to compare p. 17 of GIGGIG to p. 77 of The God Delusion, you can see for yourself.)

More to follow.

Edit: Augh the font and line-spacing is all wrong I can't fix it. Does anyone know how because otherwise we are all stuck reading something with inconsistent formatting oh nooo.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Local Music!

Well so short update I am on leave from school and therefore back in Arkansas and it is, in general, boring as hell. On the other hand, I'm starting to edge into the local music scene and freelance music criticism, and have what is sort of kind of my first music criticism gig. Which is nice. Anyway I will post the details on that later; here are my thoughts on my introduction to the music of Fayetteville, Arkansas.

Tyrannosaurus Chicken, Attack of the Chicken

Tyrannosaurus Chicken is a two-person folk/bluegrass band, which means that everyone plays everything, but generally speaking, Smilin' Bob Lewis is the one on the banjo with the gruff bluesman's voice, and Rachel Ammons is the one on the fiddle with the twangy voice. And as might be expected, their album Attack of the Chicken is pretty unpolished: the percussion (foot drums and hi-hats only) lags, and Ammons has absolutely no idea when to come in with the back-up vocals on one of the tracks. Of course, if you care that much about polish, then "two-person folk/bluegrass band" is probably not a descriptor that appeals to you. Tyrannosaurus Chicken has it where it counts: both of them are damn good at their favorite instruments, and the songs are a charming mix of bluesy sentiments - which, in my experience, are rare to hear from a female vocalist, and Ammons does a good job with them - and apocalyptic imagery.

A must for: people who put III as their favorite Zeppelin album (really? over Physical Graffiti? huh.)

For the rest of us: Hey, III was still a great album. Plus, they're named Tyrannosaurus Chicken. That is awesome.

Randall Shreve, The Entertainer

Ponderous, bloated, and self-indulgent, Randall Shreve's The Entertainer staggers onto the stage already inebriated, slumps at the piano, and attempts to bang out a song or two. He gets through them alright, but he has to slow them way down, and it's painful to watch. The music's devoid of energy, and pulls listlessly from stereotypical carnival music on the one hand, and the worst posturings of Muse and Radiohead on the other. The lyrics are narcissistic and can't decide if the conceit of the album is carnival or cabaret or Hollywood. If the album had a bright spot, it would be "Karma Girl", which is reminiscent of Radiohead in more than just the title. "You make color out of all my gray/ I can't repay that with a cheap cliché," Shreve sings, and apparently the conclusion he reaches is that if he could just get enough cheap clichés, they'll eventually add up to something worthwhile.

A must for: self-obsessed teenagers in tight pants and eyeliner, whom no one understands, and who think that Thom Yorke would be a better vocalist if he sounded just a bit whinier.

For the rest of us: Unremarkable in every way except its mediocrity. Pass.

Candy Lee, The Gate

My first experience with Candy Lee was opening the lyrics booklet for this album and saying, and I quote, "Jesus fucking Christ, what the fuck is this shit?" Then I actually listened to the album, and let me tell you, never has music this good been paired with lyrics this bad, and yes, the music and the lyrics are all from Lee. It sounds vaguely like Sixpence None the Richer, but Lee's voice is more given to rococo turns and Andrews Sisters-type harmonies. It's a voice which, impressively, can pull off lyrics like "What makes this reality/ Any different from a dream?/ Well, maybe the truth is/ That things aren't always what they seem," a gem from "Existential Dilemma". (Note: Existentialism and Solipsism are not the same thing.) The songs make extensive and good use of strings and winds, and are musically complex enough that I could almost overlook the lyrics if it weren't for the fact that - did I not mention this yet? - they're so damn preachy with their inane sentiment. I had to invent the word "sophomoralistic" just so I could adequately describe them. Still, for every failing of the lyrics, there's a corresponding triumph of the music. Very confusing.

A must for: people who are legitimately surprised by the fact that what the speaker of "Another Island" really needed all along was inner peace.

For the rest of us: I mean, the music's worth loving, and the lyrics are worth hating, so I'm gonna say that's a win all round.

Hardaway & The Commoners, Off the Record

Hardaway & The Commoners were introduced to me as "not the best hip-hop group, but certainly the best local one". Now, I know very little about hip-hop, and even less about local hip-hop, but I'm inclined to believe that claim. Off the Record bills itself as "certified organic hip-hop", a phrase whose meaning remains obscure through the radio static intro and minimalist lead-in track, until you hit "Automatic" where it becomes clear: this is fresh. The guitar/keyboard hooks are great, the saxophone solo is excellent, the lyrics are almost always interesting and tight, and by the time a digital voice informs us that the sounds we are listening to are "certified 100% organic. Live MCs, no gimmicks", we've pretty much already figured out what it means. Mostly, the album's laid back, with occasional bursts of manic energy. Highlights are "Automatic", the beat poem "21st & Forever" (which contains the lines "Mediocrity called, and asked us to turn down the music/ Because they keep a nine-to-five to stay alive"), the cool groove of "Tangible Thoughts", and "Leave It at That", which is one of the best examples of Off the Record's laid-back, minimalist attitude.

A must for: I dunno, people who really like good hip-hop? Ain't got snark for this one, it's good.

For the rest of us: I said it's good. Listen to it.