Right Reason

The blog of Dr Glenn Andrew Peoples on Theology, Philosophy, and Social Issues

What “The Little Prince” can teach some philosophers (and some normal people too)

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My favourite children’s book right now is The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. I’m currently reading it to my son. He’s old enough to read it himself (he recently turned 10 – how the years have flown by!), but I’m making the most of reading to him while he still lets me – long may those years last!

Sometimes Children’s books (like the chronicles of Narnia, or this one) have a way of presenting profound philosophical points in such a perfect way. I doubt that all such points are self-explanatory to their young audience, which is yet more reason to think that children’s stories like this one are best when read to children as well as by them, because a really good story benefits the reader as much as the listener.

Anyway, to the point: Part IV of The Little Prince, the narrator, the man who met the Little Prince, introduces us to the fact that the Prince is from Asteroid B-612. But the narrator assures us that he’s just telling us this as a matter of fact, and not for the sake of “the grown-ups and their ways.” For you see,

Grown-ups love figures. When you tell them that you have made a new friend, they never say to you, “What does his voice sound like? What games does he love best? Does he collect butterflies?” Instead, they demand: “How old is he? How many brothers and sisters does has he? How much does he weigh? How much money does his father make?” Only from these figures do they think they have learned anything about him.

If you were to say to the grown-ups: “I saw a beautiful house made of rosy brick, with geraniums in the windows and doves on the roof,” they would not be able to get any idea of the house at all. You would have to say to them, “I saw a house that cost £4,000.” Then they would exclaim: “Oh, what a pretty house that is!”

Just so, you might say to them: “The proof that the little prince existed is that he was charming, that he laughed, and that he was looking for a sheep. If anybody wants a sheep, then that is proof that he exists.” And what good would it do to tell them that? They would shrug their shoulders and treat you like a child. But if you said to them: “The planet he came from is Asteroid B-612,” then they would be convinced, and leave you in peace from their questions.

They are like that. One must not hold it against them. Children should always show great forbearance toward grown-up people.

But certainly, for us who understand life, figures are a matter of indifference. I should have liked to begin this story in the fashion of the fairy-tales. I should have liked to say: “Once upon a time there was a little prince who lived on a planet that was scarcely any bigger than himself, and who had need of a friend…”

To those who understand life, that would have given a much greater air of truth to my story.

For I do not want any one to read my book carelessly. I have suffered too much grief in setting down these memories. Six years have passed since my friend went away from me, with his sheep. If I try to describe him here, it is to make sure that I shall not forget him. To forget a friend is sad. Not everyone has had a friend. And if I forget him, I may become like the grown-ups who are no longer interested in anything but figures.

As someone with some familiarity with – and great appreciation for – the writings of Alvin Plantinga, and just as someone who thinks that we can know that God exists without being able to convince anyone, this stood out to me immediately as really profound.

Christians believe (or at least I hope I’m not the only one who believes this) that in some really important way, we know God, and that God, to some extent, has made himself known to us. Take a philosophically unsophisticated person to whom God has personally made Himself known as loving and forgiving, and so forth. Given that God really has done so, what kind of objection is it to say to such a person, “but how can this have happened when we don’t even have any hard evidence that God exists?” In these circumstances, that God is loving and forgiving (and so forth) is evidence that he exists, because you can’t be loving and forgiving – or anything else – unless you exist.

Of course, if someone forbids the possibility that the narrator ever knew the little prince, or that God could ever have actually made himself known, this will just sound false. All the more reason to think that (a very strong form of) evidentialism leaves something to be desired.

The Word of Bob

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I noticed this in today’s Otago Daily Times, and some googling turned this up, providing a fuller story.

The first line makes it sound a little more dire than it really is: “A quarter of people in Britain today cannot tell the difference between a text in the Bible and a speech by Sir Bob Geldof, a study has found.” As the story unfolds, what we learn is that in Britain, a quarter of those people surveyed (more than 1,000 adults) as part of a study conducted by the public theology think tank Theos, thought that a particular verse in the Bible was something that Bob Geldof had said. The verse was Proverbs 31:8,”You must defend those who are helpless and have no hope. Be fair and give justice to the poor and homeless.”

I have to confess, the weight of this particular finding is a bit lost on me. It’s something Bob Geldof, and a number of other people concerned about poverty would say, so if the option of “was this statement made by Bob Geldof” was put to these participants, a quarter of them, unless they had memorized the verse ahead of time, could quite easily have thought that the answer was yes.

I’m guessing that the overall point is that Geldof’s concern for poverty is a biblical one, and that’s a point well made. The story concludes:

Paul Woolley, director of Theos said: “There are clearly some important challenges to the Christian community contained within these findings. The fact that people confuse the Bible and a speech by Bob Geldof is intriguing, but the fact that 42 per cent of people disagree that the Bible champions the cause of the poor and marginalised demonstrates a significant degree of biblical illiteracy and the need for the Christian community to model the emphases of its sacred text more clearly.”

Apparently more than half answered correctly, saying that the Bible spoke about justice and poverty more than about hell, adultery or homosexuality, but the 42 per cent who didn’t think that the Bible champions the cause of the poor and marginalised at all suggests that those surveyed hold something of an ill informed caricature of what the Bible is about. This suggestion was only confirmed by a reader’s comments at the page where this story appears – comments that question whether the Bible could really be said to champion the cause of the oppressed and that this would be a “change of emphasis,” away from the obvious emphasis of killing homosexuals and adulteresses.

Planned Parenthood, part 2

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Recently I posted a clip featuring a number of calls being made to Planned Parenthood. Today I found longer clips, providing some background to these calls and the reasons for them. Check them out:

Religion, morality and politics do mix, say (some) Harvard Students

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This caught my eye today, from a recent issue of the Harvard University Gazette.

A poll conducted on Harvard University Students about religion, morality and the current US presidential race revealed that 70% of students considered religion either somewhat important or very important in their lives. Over half that group (40% overall) “are religious and secular centrists who incorporate religious views with their political attitudes and actions.”

What stood out to me on reading this was not the fact that it’s unusual for people to think this way. It’s not. This really just served as a reminder that those voices in the ivory towers of academia insisting that no really or properly democratic society mixes its religious values with its political decision making – those voices with which I have been engaging in postgrad study for the last few years until recently – really do not represent ways of thinking about values and society shared by the majority. And for that, at least, I am relieved.

Incidentally, the poll included the Harvard Institute of Politics Political Personality Test. You can take that test here.

Planned Parenthood, the final solution

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Are you a decent white man? Do you have a problem with too many uppity blacks? Here at planned parenthood, we have the final solution.

The book itch….

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OK, so now that I’ve done the PhD thing (well, I’ll have it when I graduate in May), and I’m always in the process of writing articles and sending them off for publication, and I’m still applying for a full time academic post, what am I missing? Of course – write a book!

So yesterday I started putting together a rough outline for a proposed book. It’s going to be a work on the moral argument for theism, its history and various versions, and then a defense of its premises, including defenses of its premises that have come, not from religious believers, but from skeptics. I’ve done a bit of looking around, and generally the argument is subsumed into broader works on philosophy of religion or apologetics. If there are full length treatments like this, they aren’t terribly prominent – unless I just haven’t come across them yet.

I’ll keep you posted on progress, when there is some.

"Domain Registry of America" = STAY AWAY

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A while back I received some mail (in the post, not email) from something calling itself the “Domain Registry of America,” telling me that my domain registration was about to expire, and requesting credit card details should I wish to renew it. With them, of course. Although the piece of paper is not a bill or invoice, it is laid out to look exactly like one, and the heading at the top of the page reads “Domain Name Expiration Notice.”

The DROA is not my webhosting provider, nor have I ever had any business dealings with them. I have never made contact with them in any way, and I certainly have not provided them with my home address. Google them, and you’ll find warnings all over the internet, a mass of warnings to which I am now adding. Google results immediately reveal such headlines as “Domain Registry of America Scam,” “Who will stop Domain Registry of America?” news stories like “Court Bars Canadian Company from Misleading Consumers,” and so on.

Check out this description of another person’s attempts to track them down about their approaches, resulting in a string of post office boxes and dubious identities. At least one individual involved in this organization (if that’s what it really is) has already been told by a judge to cease and desist such activites in as early as 2002, and yet here we are in 2008, with their letter reaching me here in New Zealand.

The short story is: If you have a website and receive any mail from the Domain Registry of America, ignore it and burn it. Stay with your legitimate service provider, thankful that you have not just been tricked into giving your creit card details to goodness knows who.

I’m not picking on Robert Peterson, I swear!

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A while back I wrote a critique of Robert Peterson’s argument against annihilationism. He didn’t seem very happy about the fact that I had written it, complaining that my attacks on his arguments were really “personal” attacks, and in closing he wished that I would respect the right of those who hold his view to express themselves. The former wasn’t true, and the latter seemed a bit odd, as I never said people shouldn’t have the right to express their views, but before making this argument here, let me say as clearly as I can – Dr Peterson, I’m not picking on you. Honestly, I’m not. It was just by coincidence that today while I was scanning a bunch of documents so that I would have electronic copies to save space, I stumbled across an article of Dr Peterson’s in the process, and I – again, quite unintentionally – noticed a couple of his arguments that I ought to have included in my earlier critique. Had the article I re-discovered today been written by somebody else, I would be commenting on it now in exactly the same way. I don’t dislike Dr Peterson, really. I’m sure he’s a nice person, and anytime he wants to express his beliefs on anything, he’s more than welcome to do so.

But as someone interested in theological arguments, especially when they are presented as criticisms of a position that I hold, I thought I’d comment, even at the risk of upsetting.

In my earlier critique, I noted that in at least one instance, Dr Peterson accuses annihilationists of doing things that he is at least as guilty of doing himself. As I scanned the pages of his “Basil Atkinson: A Key Figure for Twentieth Century Evangelical Annihilationism” (found in Churchman 11:2, 1997), my eye caught a couple of points that for some reason hadn’t stood out to me earlier. While, again, I’m really not trying to pick on anyone, I’m raising this here just to emphasise how riddled Dr Peterson’s arguments over the years have been with undermining problems, all illustrative of either failure in constructing a cogent argument free of important fallacies, or simply building a case that consists at times more of rhetoric than substance. I want to stress: Dr Peterson is not alone, but he has been more vocal than most, thus inviting critique.

Anyway, here are the two points that stood out to me. In the first case, Peterson takes Basil Atkinson to task for attributing “guilt by association.” Peterson quotes Atkinson where he says, after commenting on Job 14:12,

No hint is given in this passage in Job or anywhere else in Scripture that the dead are alive in an invisible world. It is a matter of great thankfulness that most Evangelicals who believe that they are have been able to resist successfully the errors that arise from such a belief, yet there is no doubt that it makes easier the road to prayers for the dead, to spiritualism, to Mariolatry, and saint worship and to purgatory.

First, a word about the argument Atkinson uses. As you can see, it is not a consequentialist argument along the lines of “if people believe in the survival of the soul in an invisible world then they will take part in prayers for the dead, spiritualism, Mariolatry, and saint worship and belief in purgatory.” In fact, Atkinson goes out of his way to note that Evangelicals have been able to resist whatever further errors arise from their incorrect belief in the survival of the soul after death. What he says, and this is obviously correct, is that if one believes in the survival of the soul after death, then that “makes easier” belief in things like purgatory and practices such as praying to the dead. In fact, Atkinson is correct because the former is logically necessary for the latter.

I want to comment on two things that follow; firstly on Peterson’s reply that misrepresents Atkinson’s comments, and secondly on the blatant double standard in this very article when it comes to the accusation of imputing “guilt by association.”

Firstly, Dr Peterson’s reply to the above quote from Basil Atkinson really does misrepresent the argument, and it also suggests confusion in the way Peterson labels his own arguments. Here’s what he said:

The argument for guilt by association in opposing eternal conscious punishment is easily answered by a counter-argument. Indeed, almost no evangelical Protestants believe in prayers for the dead, spiritualism, mariolatry, saint worship or purgatory. Atkinson’s claim, therefore, that belief in eternal punishment leads to such abuses is not substantiated by experience. Instead, it is falsified.

Notice two things: Firstly, Dr Peterson here is clearly responding to a consequentialist argument, an argument that says “If Christians believe in the survival of the soul after death, then they will also believe in prayers for the dead, spiritualism, mariolatry, saint worship and purgatory.” But that was never Atkinson’s claim. As seen, he explicitly stated that evangelicals have not embraced those things even though they believe in the survival of the soul after death. So Dr Peterson has misrepresented Atkinson’s argument.

Secondly, this consequentialist argument that Dr Peterson incorrectly attributes to Atkinson has nothing to do with guilt by association. Guilt by association is where in idea is associated with another idea, practice (or even a group) with a bad reputation when the first idea does not lead to the second but is merely being associated with it. That’s what makes arguments that attribute guilt by association fallacious! Had Peterson genuinely criticized this as an argument against attributing guilt by association, I would have agreed with him. This is how that response could have gone:

While Dr Atkinson did not say that belief in the soul’s survival of death leads one to pray to the saints or believe in purgatory (in fact, thankfully, he explicitly stated that in the case of Evangelicals it has not had this effect), the fact that it makes such other beliefs possible is simply not relevant here. Lack of belief in such a death surviving soul is compatible with some theological nasties as well, such as the belief that there is no future life at all. However, to associate one belief with the other in this way simply arouses prejudice, since in both cases, the latter belief can just as easily be false, and the former belief is not affected at all. A doctrine should be critiqued on its own merits, and not on the unpopularity of other not strictly related doctrines. In short – even though Evangelical Protestants are not Catholics, and the fact that Catholics (who believe in purgatory etc) share their views on the immortality of the soul must not be used as a theological scarecrow to warn people away from that belief.

That would have been a critique of the attribution of guilt by association. Peterson’s argument was just an attack on a straw man.

Now, I’m no fan of the tu quoque fallacy (literally the “you too” fallacy). That’s the fallacy of rejecting a person’s argument because they are guilty of the same error they see in others. So let me say that I accept that Atkinson did cross the line in attributing guilt by association. But I have to say, reading on a little further in Peterson’s article made my irony meter explode. After making such a big deal of the fact that Atkinson attributes guilt by association, later, Peterson discusses Atkinson’s comments on Luke 23:43, where Jesus is speaking to the criminal on the cross, and promises that they will be together in Paradise. Looking at the sentence “Assuredly I say unto you, this day you shall be with me in Paradise,” Atkinson, himself, as Peterson earlier grants, an expert in biblical Greek linguistics, says that the sentence would be better punctuated thus: “Assuredly I say unto you this day, you shall be with me in Paradise.” Dr Peterson retorts: “I have not been able to find a single translation that follows this punctuation.” Now, there are arguments about the grammar that could be made here, but they are left untouched. Peterson does not mention them. But see what happens next: Dr Peterson inserts a footnote, which reads: “I thank Alan Gomes of Talbot School of Theology for pointing out that the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ interlinear, The Emphatic Diglott, contains this punctuation.”

Now, guilt by association, how does it work again? It works when a person associates a belief or group of people with an unpopular belief or group of people, thus supplying an emotive rationale for rejecting the former belief or people. Effectively discouraging people from even considering the grammatical merits of the translation that Atkinson suggests, Dr Peterson points out that the Jehovah’s Witnesses use it. Really? And I suppose that the fact that this anti-Trnitarian group believe that this punctuation is correct shows that it is false, right? Wrong – no more than the fact that believers in purgatory accept the immortality of the soul make anyone think that that belief wrong.

It’s the theological equivalent of what has become known on the internet as “the appeal to Hitler.” Just associate a person’s beliefs with Hitler somehow – any way will do – and then you can declare a cheap victory. In evangelical theology, the trick just seems to be the same, but swap “Hitler” for “Jehovah’s Witnesses.” Putting that remark in the form of thanks, and inserting into a footnote, does not lessen the insinuation or the fact that this really is an attempt to attribute guilt by association. Let’s see how Peterson’s own comeback might apply here, with the relevant terms changed:

The argument for guilt by association in Atkinson’s translation of Luke 23:43 is easily answered by a counter-argument. Indeed, almost no evangelical conditionalists are Jehovah’s witnesses. Peterson’s claim, therefore, that belief in conditionalism leads to such conversions is not substantiated by experience. Instead, it is falsified.

Peterson would doubtless object that he never made this claim. But as noted, that’s partly the point. Atkinson never made the claim attributed to him with exactly this time of comeback either, and the unfair attempt at association fails for exactly the same reason.

OK, so much for the argument about guilt by association. The second argument that caught my eye in this argument is when Dr Peterson commented on Atkinson’s use of what Peterson calls here the Analogia Fide, the analogy of faith. In very simple terms, as Peterson is using that term here, the analogy of faith is the practice of using all of Scripture to help interpret a particular passage, on the assumption that because of the divine inspiration of Scripture, what any given passage of Scripture teaches will be harmonious with what the Bible says everywhere else when it speaks on that subject.

Yes, Atkinson certainly employs this appeal. Speaking of Atkinson’s use of this principle, Dr Peterson says, “In part he uses it to handle passages which he finds difficult to integrate with his theological commitment to soul sleep and annihilationism.” Actually it would be more fair to call it a biblical commitment, since that is how Dr Atkinson construed it, but no matter. Is there anything wrong with doing this – appealing to all of Scripture to help Dr Atkinson understand passages which, on their own, might look like they are against his views?

Two examples in particular are of interest: Dr Peterson takes Atkinson to task for his appeal to this principle when dealing with Luke 16:19-31 (the story of the Rich Man and Lazarus), and Luke 23:43 (Jesus’ words to the thief on the cross). In the former case, Atkinson says, as only a part of his discussion, that if this story were to teach the disembodied survival of the soul, then it “contradicts the consistent teaching of all the rest of Scripture,” a claim he purports to have established by exegesis of many other passages. As part of his discussion of Luke 23:43, he again says that if we read it to teach the disembodied survival of the soul, then it would “contradict everything that the Bible has to say elsewhere on the subject.” In each case, he uses other arguments as well, but he also includes the appeal to the Analogia Fide. It is not his only argument, but one of them.

Look at how Dr Peterson replies:

I also criticized Atkinson’s appeal to the analogia fidei to handle texts that he could not easily integrate with his beliefs. The difficulty does not lie with Atkinson’s appeal to the rule of faith. All conservative theologians do so. The problem lies with his timing for making such an appeal. He invokes the analogy of faith before he treats difficult texts, thereby prejudicing his exegesis. Instead, we should honestly grapple with biblical passages, being open to God’s changing our theologies. Only after exploring the options should we appeal to the analogia fidei. That is, such an appeal must not keep us from honest exegetical investigation, but must rather follow that pursuit.

I will overlook the possibly inflammatory use of the word “honest” here, suggesting that the late Dr Atkinson was not honest in his investigation. Dr Peterson’s reply seems to be that we can’t substitute our exegesis of any particular passage with an appeal to what we think Scripture teaches overall, and that we should only make such an appeal after addressing the exegetical issues.

I have to confess that I see no obvious reason why we must always do things in that order. As long as we really are presenting exegetical reasons for our view of what a certain passage says, who is to stand over us at our desk and tell us which should be presented first and which should come second?

But more importantly, this precise issue arose when I criticised Dr Peterson’s arguments in “Fallacies in the Annihilationism Debate.” I commented on Dr Peterson’s exegesis of 2 Peter 2:6, which says that God turned the people of Sodom to ashes, making an example of what He was going to do to the wicked in the future. Dr Peterson’s rather unconvincing assertion used to explain this text was:

Taken in isolation it is possible to understand Peter’s words as teaching annihilationism. Nevertheless, we ought not to do so. It is better to take Peter’s words as more generally predicting the downfall of the wicked than to understand them as foretelling their precise fate—reduction to ashes.

As I noted, no exegesis from 2 Peter itself contributed to this conclusion. The text was clearly against him, and Dr Peterson just claimed that it doesn’t mean what it appears to mean. So I commented, “The frustrating aspect of responding to such a claim is that no grounds are given for it.”

Well, Peterson responded to this comment, and guess what came to the rescue – The analogy of faith!

On the contrary, Peoples’s quotation stopped too soon-my grounds are given in the very next words. I continued:

In fact, when we examine this passage alongside Jude 13 and the other nine passages that we have studied or will study, I am certain that Fudge overreaches by insisting on a literalistic interpretation of the words of Jude 7 and 2 Peter 2:6. Instead, we should allow the message of all ten passages to inform our view of the fate of the wicked.

Now wait just a second. When Atkinson gets around difficult texts by offering exegesis of them and appealing to the teaching of all Scripture, he is accused of abusing the analogy of faith. Peterson tells us that we may use the analogy of faith, but only after engaging in exegesis of the text in question. But when it comes to 2 Peter 2:6 and I criticise Peterson for offering literally no exegesis on it and simply telling us what it must mean, he lets himself off the hook by appealing to the analogy of faith!

It is as I observed in my earlier article – Peterson’s rules only seem to apply to his opponents.

Glenn Peoples

Unborn babies kicking saves mother's life

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This is pretty awesome. DeeDee Warren pointed out this article at Reformed Chick’s blog, which came from here.

Michelle Stepney developed cervical cancer while pregnant with twins. She refused to have an abortion.

Michelle Stepney, 35, said her twins Alice and Harriet, now age 13 months, were a lively pair in the womb. At the time, however, she had no idea that constant kicking she felt actually dislodged a tumor that had formed on her cervix and, according to doctors, saved her life.

That’s some serious kicking!

Calvinism and Molinism: Bill Craig beat me to it

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Don’t you hate it when you think you’ve had an original thought – and it it may well be original in the sense that you came up with it yourself – and you plan to share it as your own idea, but then you discover that someone well-known has beaten you to it?

I’ve been friendly towards a Calvinist (or Augustinian) view on providence and salvation for a number of years now. In more recent years, I’ve become more sympathetic to Molinism, the view grounded in divine middle knowledge, although I don’t hold this view, and I think it is unlikely that I will. I became frustrated with a couple of things.

Firstly, although what warmed me up to Calvinism is my view of the biblical teaching on sin, grace and salvation, when somebody finds out that I’m kindly disposed to that Calvinism, one of the first things they want to grill me about is their understanding of a Calvinist take on God’s relationship to time, or fatalism, or something along those lines.

Secondly, it became clear to me that some Molinists that I know, and certainly some opponents of Molinism, seem to think that this is a significant alternative to a Calvinist view. And certainly, it is not Calvinism. But something that is an essential part of Molinism can certainly be maintained by a Calvinist, even though some people seem to talk about it as incompatible with Calvinism.

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