knowledge

Does faith get in the way of philosophy?

September 20, 2018 by The Philosurfer Leave a Comment

At times, philosophy overlaps with other disciplines. On some accounts of what philosophy is, philosophers should be totally open-minded about all possibilities and only settle on a belief once ample reasons have been given for believing it. Religion, however, demands faith about these beliefs. Regardless of reasons, a religion wants you to believe what it has to say. Does this mean religious people are at a disadvantage in philosophy? You could argue the following:
1. Philosophers should be open to consider anything
2. Religious people can’t consider certain things
3. So, religious people are at a disadvantage as philosophers

In response to this argument, let us consider a case elucidating the relation between philosophy and science. The ancient philosopher Aristotle hypothesized that what makes statements like Dogs are animals true is the existence of dogs and that animal is part of their constitution. However, what about before dogs existed? What would make Dogs are animals true then? Aristotle believed the universe has existed eternally as it is now, so there have always been dogs to make Dogs are animals true. At the time, there was no reason to reject this cosmology, so the open-minded philosopher would have to seriously consider Aristotle’s explanation.

Since then, however, our best science has shown us not only that the universe has not always been the same, but it hasn’t always existed (much less dogs). Is it incumbent on modern philosophers to take Aristotle’s explanation of what makes Dogs are animals true seriously in the name of open-mindedness? The idea seems absurd. The whole theory rests on a cosmology that has been shown to be scientifically false. Not only would open-mindedness not be a virtue here, it would be a vice. Science has done philosophers a service by cutting out philosophical theories that can’t be true. A philosopher would be wrong to reject this just because it came from outside of philosophy. Not only is it okay for philosophers not to be open-minded here, they should be closed-minded. In other words, (1) is false so long as there are good reasons against a possibility, whether philosophical or not.

Now consider the case of religion. Is it true that a religion wants you to believe something for no reason at all? Most religions wouldn’t say that. Most religions want you to believe something because theybelieve (i) they have special access to esoteric knowledge and (ii) there are good reasons for you to believe they have this special access. Of course, they could be wrong about this, but the time to be an open-minded philosopher is when considering these reasons. If the religion is right, then just as in the scientific case against Aristotle’s cosmology, philosophers should be closed-minded about contradictory possibilities. So, it’s only the case that a religion could interfere with philosophy if there aren’t good reasons to believe the religion, and whether or not there are good reasons will depend on each religion individually.

What about if the religion is wrong about (i) and (ii)? At this point, the ideas the religion espouses are still a possibility, but we no longer have any reason to reject other possibilities, so open-mindedness would be a virtue here. However, this still doesn’t mean faith is necessarily opposed to philosophy. The believer may to continue to believe, but remain open to other possibilities. In fact, this is analogous to what we do in much science. I might believe in Big Bang Theory over String Theory, but remain more or less open to the possibility that I’m wrong. I might continue to pursue evidence either way, ready to change my beliefs accordingly. In the same way, a religion might provide some reasons to trust it and we may believe it to that extent, while continuing to pursue the truth open-mindedly.
For more, please see my YouTube video “Is faith bad for philosophy?”

A Caution about Studying Knowledge

August 7, 2018 by The Philosurfer Leave a Comment

Imagine the mystery: for its size, the common honey bee should not have been able to fly. At 230 beats per second, its little wings were too small to keep its (relatively) hulking body aloft. Worse: it often transported pollen, thereby increasing its weight. By all accounts, the bee could not fly. Therefore, it didn’t. Right?

Of course not! It took scientists a long time and big advances in technology, but they finally discovered the secret of bee flight (among other things, it moves its wings back and forth as well as up and down, which creates more lift; for a great explanation see here). Notice, however, that the bee itself doesn’t know how it flies. It just does. Neither did the scientist know how it flew, but the fact that its flight was mysterious was no reason to discount it.

The same can be said for epistemology. What is knowledge? The question has yet to be satisfactorily answered, and because of this some have despaired of its very existence. What if I don’t know anything? What if I don’t know the real world exists? What if I don’t know the people I love are real? What if I don’t know if I’m real? The questions seem daunting.

The first thing to note is that, like the bee’s ability to fly, the fact that our ability to know is mysterious is not necessarily a reason to doubt that we can know. It may be that, though we don’t know how we do it, we just do. It may be that, though philosophers can’t explain it yet, they will one day figure it out. Of course, there is a big difference in that the bee’s flight is empirically observable and so is much harder to doubt. The point here, however, is that our attitudes towards things we can’t explain shouldn’t be automatically skeptical.

So, what should our attitudes be like? Again, we don’t have empirical observation to confirm the existence of knowledge (though empirical observation isn’t necessarily fool-proof), so the non-existence of knowledge is a live option. However, knowing that the mechanisms of some phenomena in the world can be opaque, we should not reject the existence of knowledge unless it can be shown, after thorough investigation, to be impossible. This hasn’t been done. Skeptics have not shown that we can’t know. At best, they have shown that we don’t know how we know. Therefore, as we go forward in epistemology, I’d like to suggest we proceed assuming we know things, though with an open ear towards what the skeptic has to say.

Is Philosophy against My Faith?

January 11, 2018 by The Philosurfer Leave a Comment

I’m not Episcopalian, but I used to teach Introduction to Philosophy at an Episcopal school. One year, a student told me she was surprised the school offered my class because she thought it was antithetical to the faith. I reassured her that although there were a good deal of non-Christian philosophers that rejected Christianity on philosophical grounds, there were also a good deal of Christian philosophers who thought philosophy supported their beliefs. She surprised me, however, by saying that this was just the problem.

(Warning: this is a philosophy blog, not a Bible study! What follows is definitely of interest as an exercise in reasoning, but my main goal is to assuage people who are afraid the Bible disallows them to do philosophy.)

Hebrews 11:6 says, “And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.” Philosophy, however, seeks knowledge about just such things as God’s existence. Some would argue that you can’t believe in something if you know it. If this is so, then if philosophy is successful in showing God exists, then it would make it impossible to please God.

I don’t think this is the right interpretation, however, as there are other passages in the Bible that seem to teach Christians should engage in just such endeavors. In 1 Peter 3:15, Christians are admonished to “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect….” Giving a reason for belief in God sounds a lot like what we were worried about before. Further, in the Book of Acts, the apostle Paul (the author of a great deal of the New Testament of the Bible) engages with philosophers (Stoics and Epicureans) on Mars Hill. He doesn’t tell them to quit their jobs, but rather reasons (or philosophizes?) with them. In this context, Paul is set out as a person to emulate. So, it seems like far from being something to avoid, Christians should engage their faith through philosophy.

How are we to resolve the tension between the different passages? I think there are several possibilities. First, it could be (and likely is) the case that we can never get total, indubitable knowledge of God’s existence through philosophy and must content ourselves with good reasons for believing in God (if they are available). If this is so, the problem is mitigated. It would still be the case that philosophy reduces the need for faith, but it would never obviate this need. If it’s also the case that pleasing God is proportional to the amount of faith we must rely on–i.e. more faith = more pleasing–then philosophy would lessen the amount God would be pleased, but it would also be commanded of us so that it is a necessary evil.

A more likely possibility, however, is that the two kinds of faith are different. In the latter case, the concern is for convincing others of God’s existence and the Christian soteriological plan (plan of salvation). However, Hebrews 11 is talking about living a life of trust in God. I’ll explain the difference through an analogy.

When my oldest son was very young, he was fascinated by fire. He kept trying to touch the flame on the stove top and I had to keep telling him not to. Eventually, I gave him a little smack on the hand. I know, corporal punishment, right? But, it was all I could do to save his poor little hand from being burned. Of course, the little man couldn’t understand why I would do this. “Why would dad keep me from what I want?” I mean, think about it: fire is bright, it moves in really cool ways, and it feels nicer the closer you get to it (up to a point). Why would dad not only keep it from me, but even inflict pain on me! He didn’t understand why, but he did know that I loved him and that I knew better than him, and for that reason he chose to trust me. I think this is the kind of faith the writer of Hebrews is interested in. In order to please God, you have to trust him even when you don’t understand why something happens to you because you know He is wiser than you and He loves you. If that’s what the author means, then there is no conflict between this kind of faith and philosophical investigation.