Background Probability

The Agnostic Popular Front has moved to its new home at Skeptic Ink, and will henceforth be known as Background Probability. Despite the relocation and rebranding, we will continue to spew the same low-fidelity high-quality bullshit that you've come to expect.

Showing posts with label Religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Religion. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

NOMA - ¿No va?

Some of my friends have recently gotten into a bit of an discussion over S. J. Gould’s proposal that science and religion ought to be considered non-overlapping magisteria (oddly dubbed ‘NOMA’ for the sake of brevity). Essentially, this model states that science should stick to empirical questions of fact, while religion may be left to deal with questions of ultimate meaning and moral value. I contend that the model consists of four distinct propositions, some of which are more controversial than others.

1) Scientists should address themselves to empirical questions of fact, so long as they claim to be doing science.

2) Scientists should not address questions of ultimate meaning and moral value, so long as they claim to be doing science.

3) Religious leaders should not address empirical questions of fact, when acting in their capacity as people of faith.

4) Religious leaders should address themselves to questions of ultimate meaning and moral value, so long as they are acting as people of faith.

The reason these propositions are somewhat carefully circumscribed is that many people are both scientists and people of faith. Some biologists go home from the lab on Saturday and lead Sunday School classes the following morning, while the Vatican famously employs astronomer-priests to study how the heavens go rather than how to go to heaven.

A few caveats before moving forward. Firstly, it is important to notice that this model more prescriptive than descriptive. Gould was well aware of the fundamentalist resurgence against science, aimed primarily at his own field, and he spilled vats of ink working tirelessly against this phenomenon. So, it must be assumed that the advocate of NOMA is not saying that science and religion do not in fact overlap, but rather that we would be better off if they did not. Sort of an epistemological “good fences, good neighbors” policy between these two fields. Secondly, it is vital to note that NOMA only addresses the ideal relationship between the human endeavors of empirical science and religion. It says nothing about other fields of study such as historical exegesis, politics, economics, aesthetics, philosophy, etcetera. It may be that some of these fields necessary overlap with either science or religion, or both, but NOMA does not address this problem. Finally, it is important to note that NOMA is not necessarily an idealized end game. It may well be that I’d much rather my cranky preachy neighbor sold his home and moved away, but for now the best I can do is to extend and augment our mutual fence.

With all these caveats in mind, then, what of the four propositions themselves? I consider the first and fourth claims relatively uncontroversial, because they are basically saying that scientific and religious people should pursue their chosen specialties. So long as both fields of endeavor continue to coexist, their practitioners will address themselves to their respective fields of study, which are aptly described and empirical research on the one hand and questions of ultimate meaning on the other. Some will no doubt object that ethics are far too important to be left to people of faith, and should be carefully studied and skillfully debated by ethicists and philosophers. I have no problem with this, and would merely point out that the NOMA paradigm does not address itself to ethicists and philosophers. Such fellows can knock up my religious neighbor all they like and attempt to engage in lengthy discussions with him, without violating the NOMA principle, although I doubt they will be cordially invited in for tea.

The third proposition essentially states that we should not take something on faith which can be readily tested, for example, claims about the age of the Earth or the origin of species. Those who object to this principle are unwilling to consider evidence when they have presupposed the truth of faith-based propositions, and thus are not worth engaging in dialogue. No amount of logic and reason will avail against one who rejects both.

This leaves only the second and arguably most controversial principle, that scientists should refrain from claiming that science provides answers to questions of ultimate meaning and moral values. There are actually two distinct questions here: “Can science provide ultimate meaning?” and “Can science provide moral values?” Personally, I take the view that all meaning and purposes are proximate rather than ultimate (as Gould himself intimates towards the end of his original essay with his ‘cold bath’ theory of nature) and thus the NOMA model graciously grants religious figures his blessing to muck about with naught but an imaginary category. I’m unsure what the implications of this practice might be, except to say that is it probably harmless unless combined with harmful moral principles, e.g. “Your ultimate purpose is to please Elohim/Allah/God, and He has commanded you to take over a given patch of land by any means necessary.” The NOMA advocate does not say that such nonsense cannot be vigorously refuted, but merely that it cannot be addressed using the hypothetico-deductive method.

As to the formulation of moral values themselves, that may be the ultimate sticky wicket. To those who adhere to the idea of an ‘is-ought gap’ and assert that we should mind the gap, it seems clear enough that science can only address questions of what is rather than how things ought to be. It can tell us how to prevent HIV infections, but it cannot tell us why we should do so. To do that, we have to draw on inherent values such as love of health and empathy for others. There are some who claim that our values should be deduced from facts about the world, but I’ve not yet seen one of them make a persuasive case. I’ll try to keep my eyes and mind open for a good argument to that effect, however.

Friday, May 8, 2009

Science, religion, and epistemology

Excerpted from a recent post by a friend of mine:

In other words, though there may be some difference in the kinds of knowledge claims that science and religion make, both science and religion use the same overall strategy. The claim that religion works by faith and that science by reason is too sloppy. Science must often depend on faith statements even though it uses reason extensively; likewise, theology relies on the exercise of reason. Science and theology share considerable commonality. Both faith and reason are methods for generating knowledge claims.

It seems to me that science and religion have strategies for achieving knowledge which are so different as to be quite nearly diametrically opposed, and this is fairly obvious whenever they both attempt to answer the same questions, such as:

I’ve drawn faith-based answers from my own faith tradition, no doubt other faith traditions have created their own answers.  Answers yielded up by the scientific method, by contrast, are cross-cultural and useful regardless of whether one speaks Arabic, Basque, Castilian, Dutch, English, or Finnish, and regardless of whether one prays to Allah, Bhagavan, Christ, Deus, Elohim, Freya, or whomever.  In every case, faith-based answers get about as far as “magical immaterial mind mediating by means most mysterious” and pretty much leaves it at that. 

Even the great Isaac Newton, when stymied in his investigation of the origins of the solar system, decided to chalk it up to an intelligent designer and ceased doing any more research on the question.  Meanwhile, methodological naturalists are busily arguing amongst themselves, refuting each other, testing out new theories, refining old ones, and generally getting on with the business of adding to humanity’s understanding of the world.  It is because scientific knowledge is considered provisional that they are allowed to keep moving forward and learning new things. 

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

On whom one ought to indenture

Atheists can have good character after all!
[see original letter for full context]

Consider for a moment the implications of the letter excerpted below. Not only was the illustrious Father of our Nation willing to hire indentured Germans of any religion or none (thereby giving them the opportunity to become American citizens) but he also recognized that personal disposition and moral character are attributes wholly independent of one's particular religion or sect.

George Washington, in a letter dated 24 March 1784:

I am informed that a Ship with Palatines is gone up to Baltimore, among whom are a number of Tradesmen. I am a good deal in want of a House Joiner and Bricklayer, (who really understand their profession) and you would do me a favor by purchasing one of each, for me.

I would not confine you to
Palatines. If they are good workmen, they may be of Asia, Africa, or Europe. They may be Mahometans, Jews or Christian of any Sect, or they may be Atheists.

I would however prefer middle aged, to young men and those who have good countenances and good characters on ship board, to others who have neither of these to recommend them, altho, after all, the proof of the pudding must be in the eating.
If only our modern politicians were so enlightened!

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Podcasting the Anglosphere

One of the absolute greatest things about the synergy of fairly new digital technologies (WWW sites, RSS feeds, mp3 podcasts, & etc.) is that the new media are truly trans-global for the first time ever, one's ability to imbibe global media is limited only by one's spare time and the number of languages which one comprehends. Like far too many of my countrymen I am more-or-less limited to my native tongue, but then again, the anglosphere is a pretty big place.

I know this very point has been made over and over again by the tech-heads over at 2600, Wired, and Boing-Boing for years, but I've yet to see many people really take advantage of the potential of these new developments. Most folks are still listening to (relatively) local programming on AM/FM/XM.

In an effort to spread the digital gospel, let me share with you just a few of my favorite weekly radio shows on the subjects of religion, politics, and ethics:

Religious Talk (USA)
Everyday Ethics (UK)
Sunday Night Safran (AU)

Let it not be said that the evitable 1½-hour daily commute is entirely accursed, for now (by the Grace of Man) we have the blessing of digital radio. Yea, verily.

Of course, every blessing comes with a corresponding curse (thus saith the Lord) and the flip-side of our wonderful worldwide web of new media is the creation and propogation of pan-Islamic jihadist media. Allahu akbar!

Saturday, June 28, 2008

Bible Belt Discover Between NE, SW

Turns out (against conventional wisdom) that the belt runs roughly from the SE tip of Florida to the NW tip of Idaho. Here is the map of those states where at least one in three Americans take their scriptures very literally:

Map of Bible Belt
Percentage of population that view scripture as the
Word of God literally true word for word.

Good news for Okies - we aren't the buckle after all! If the data from the Pew Forum's new Religious Landscape Survey are to be trusted (and I'm none too skeptical for once) that dubious distinction goes to to the Old South, both geographically and in terms of raw data.

Note that if you mentally block out the mustard-coloured states, you still get a contiguous belt centered upon Dixie, but aligned roughly east-to-west. That would be, I suppose, the traditional (fuzzy) conception of the proverbial belt. It is this inner-belt which votes most reliably in favor of the GOP, and which borders upon such key swing states as Florida, Ohio, Missouri, and Colorado, where a slim majority of citizens have not yet drunk the Kool-Aid.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Trippier than a tripping trip...

Try listening to Infected Mushroom's album (pictured just below)
while reading Pascal Boyer's book (pictured just above).
It is at least as freaky as syncing up Pink Floyd
albums to the History Channel.
Enjoy!


Tuesday, August 21, 2001

A Thumbnail Sketch of Personal Apostasy

An only child, from a very early age I was keenly interested in reading and learning, especially scientific books. In grade school I spent much of my spare time either in the local library or at home with my own books, such as The Dawn of Man and Cosmos (it remains beyond me why my mother would buy such imposing books for a grade schooler, perhaps I requested them). This early stage molded (some might say warped) my nature into a more reclusive and rational mindset. No doubt the incessant reading impaired me socially, not only because of the hours spent alone rather than interacting with others, but also because the children I grew up with seemed to genuinely loathe learning in general and bright kids in particular. I considered this an unfortunate aspect of public schooling, but I was fortunate in that I did not grow up in a part of the nation where the entire (adult) culture was actively anti-intellectual. That is until 7th grade, when my Mom remarried and we moved to Oklahoma City, smack in the buckle of the proverbial Bible belt. There I was to discover that much of what I had learned in my precious books was "utter rubbish" and was to be extricated from my mind in favor of the Genesis myth.

This confused and upset me somewhat, and despite the amazing flexibility of the young mind I never really managed to do away with the idea of empirical evidence in favor of faith. Nevertheless, I prayed the sinner's prayer that I might not go to Hell and became a good Baptist kid. Indeed, I thrived in the Southern Baptist environment, making many friends at the Henderson Hills Baptist Church (HHBC). I learned the Christian Scriptures (or at least the Protestant English translations thereof) through and through, and by the time I was a freshman in high school, I was teaching Sunday School to 4th graders. It wasn't until some time later, while in post-graduate school, that I began to seriously question my faith. I had always dealt with the occasional torturous bouts of doubt, usually at night, in which I'd lie awake and fret over the possibility that the metaphysical naturalists might be right, and there would be no afterlife for me or anyone. I saw this as a genuine possibility since I was initially steeped not in dogma but in science, and my undergraduate degree in physics had only reinforced the plausibility of such a notion.

Taking a straightforward approach to my doubts, I undertook to read the best atheistic arguments available, and counter them with the best apologetics available, thereby settling in my mind the question of God. I aspired even to perhaps become an apologist myself. As so I set out on my literature review. I did not make it far before being downright overwhelmed by the sheer force of the atheistic arguments. Most striking to me was the finding of the various schools of higher criticism which grew out of the German Bible scholarship of the 19th century. To see the incredible similarities between the gospels and other Hellenistic legends and Jewish messianic figures blew me away, as did the history of canonization and the progression evident in the Christian Scriptures. The possibility of mythical development of the gospels was so well argued by the likes of Mack, Crossan , and Wells that I could no longer treat gospels as reliable historical sources. Between the Biblical criticism and the moral arguments from evil and hell, I was rather quickly losing my religion. I tried to modify my beliefs to hold on to some vestiges of my faith, progressing rapidly through christocentric universalism, fideism, deism, and various combinations before finally realizing the futility of my endeavors. There was nothing in particular that pushed me over the edge, but there was a particular moment at which I admitted to myself (and my spouse) that I no longer believed. That was around four years ago this summer.