14/01 Religious Debate

Welcome, my good friends. This is a little different from the tidbits you've been reading here; rather than adopting an informative approach, here I will be quickly challenging your view of religion and science and asking why it is that so many people have trouble debating the subject (and why they even spend the time doing so). I'll try and keep this topic as brief as possible, but keep in mind it's sort of a heavy subject. Please try to absorb and digest my words here with a clear mind; discard all predispositions and predictions about what you think I will probably say, and instead, hear what I am saying in this topic.

If you've been a member of internet communities for a while, chances are you've witnessed one of the frequently-recurring religious debates. When they pan out properly, such debates are undoubtedly healthy, thanks to the introspection they impose upon their participants. Many devoutly religious people would certainly benefit from a greater understanding of science's contributions, as would many empiricists benefit from a greater understanding of the reasoning behind a person's faith. Both sides certainly have something to teach as well as something to learn, however lopsided each particular exchange may be.

Unfortunately, though, such exchanges rarely unfold in a productive manner; more often than not, they end in bitter division between the various involved parties, both of whom exit the debate merely hardened in their current beliefs. Ninety-nine percent of people on both sides of the table never change their minds even ever-so-slightly throughout these arguments, and yet they continue, on and on, over and over, with only minor adjustments made by the participants each time to try and enhance their influence over the opponents.

WHAT MAKES RELIGIOUS DEBATE SO INFLAMMATORY?

It's important to understand just why it is that religious debates always seem to encourage such inflammatory rhetoric and response. For one thing, religion unfailingly deals with such profound questions as "Where did we come from?", "What happens when we die?", and "What is the meaning of life?" These are arguably the most important questions a person can ask, and so it’s not surprisingly that people feel so strongly about their personally adopted explanations.

Also, though, religious debate carries another quality that sets it apart from the myriad "normal" debates, dealing with a variety of other topics, which we witness on a day-to-day basis. This unique quality is the element of ambiguity; while debate over religion is often infused with a generous dose of modern science and bulletproof logic, it still is, in the end, grounded entirely in a wholly indeterminate question. Science surely offers loads of revealing answers regarding our world (as well as the promise of many more answers to come as our mastery of observation and interpretation continues to spread), but it can only extend so far. Astrophysicists and quantum mechanists both agree that there is a very real limit—a set boundary—to what we can know through science. The exact coordinates of this boundary are still being determined, but we know for a fact that one side of it lies in one particular location: at the beginning of time.

(A short passage of advanced cosmology follows; feel free to skip to the next italicized heading if you don’t feel up to reading it)

The beginning of time was set at the beginning of our universe—the Big Bang. Whether you subscribe to the traditional Big Bang model or that of the more sophisticated inflationary cosmology theory (which refines the standard model through the introduction of a so-called inflaton field, a sort of supercooled Higgs Field that permeated all of space prior to the Big Bang, leading to the negative gravity required to fuel such a violent outburst of energy), you will still agree that time’s arrow was set at the time of the Big Bang. As with everything else, the various parameters of our universe (time, the familiar laws of physics, etc.) were conceived at this crucial point in our history. The most compelling proof we have of its occurrence is the cosmic microwave background radiation that exists all throughout space in a nearly uniform state, a cold reminder of the once hot and extremely low-entropy beginnings of our existence.

The point is, our observational ability comes to a screeching halt at this set of coordinates in spacetime… and it just so happens that everything we know about our world is derived from our observations. That means that there is no way we can ever determine with any certainty whatsoever what it was that occurred prior to the Big Bang. Quantum cosmologists such as Stephen Hawking and James Hartle love to tempt us with theoretically consistent yet entirely unsatisfying interpretations of this question to mean that, since familiar time was created by the Big Bang, there is no period “before” the Big Bang about which to ask questions. They dismiss the question by positing that familiar causality is a product of the continuous, yet inherently indefinite, expansion of all matter and time that occurred as a result of the Big Bang. And that may be, but no one really knows for certain… and no one ever will.

(Okay, you can come back now.)

Therein lies the problem. Here we have a subject of debate centered on a completely unknown and indeterminate solution, and yet, remarkably, those involved present their arguments as though they are resting on an unshakable foundation of irrefutable proof—which is simply not the case. It never will be the case. Both theists and atheists rest their arguments on faith. In truth, the most rational approach is agnosticism.

I CAN SEE YOUR POINT

There are some concessions needing to be made. For one thing, in support of you atheists out there, plenty of people still do not “believe” in evolution. My advice to these people is that if you don’t yet believe in it, you’d be well advised to start doing some reading. Regardless of your personal religious beliefs, a truly informed person will never deny the almost entirely proven findings of modern science… and evolution is a proven natural technique of biology. It is one and the same with DNA and the magnificent biochemistry undergirding the microbiology of the cell. The same goes for the Big Bang—we’ve essentially proven its existence, from the expanding universe to the uniform distribution of microwave background radiation referred to earlier.

But if you’ve got your scientific ducks in a row, you’re free to believe whatever you wish. Everything beyond the Big Bang and elsewhere beyond the eventual reach of science classifies squarely as philosophy. And you’re perfectly justified in nearly any relatively uncomplicated philosophical belief you might hold. Anecdotes, analogies, and ancillary teaching methods like those found in the Bible aside, the belief in a God is unchallengeable on the grounds of empirical argument and logical proof. Now, granted, the more complex your theory, the less likely its accuracy, as suggested by the frequently cited Occam’s Razor (even though this model only suggests the preferred philosophical approach; keep in mind that if Occam’s razor were used to justify the results of the Big Bang if we didn’t already know, it would predict something along the lines of a chaotic nothingness… in other words, its explanatory power is limited in such a wildly complicated context). And that’s something that definitely has to be considered, as many atheists reference invisible unicorns and orbiting teacups as proof of the irrationality of a belief in God.

THE PHILOSOPHICAL HORSE RACE

Philosophy that deals with the origins of the universe and the destination of our souls when we die works a little bit differently from your average purely logical decision, however. The reason why is pretty easy to see if you’ll just agree to go with me for a day at the horse racing track. Take a look at the odds on the screen. The odds on Horse 5 (“Occam’s Racer”) are a scorching 2 to 1, meaning that there’s a very good chance he’ll win. On the other hand, the odds for Horse 3 (“Ex Nihilo Tango”) are something along the lines of 4 to 1, meaning there’s slightly less of a chance that he’ll win. One last horse (“Colt of God”) carries odds of 10 to 1 due to complications.

Now, the rational better would bet on Occam’s Racer thanks to his excellent odds. Logically, he has the best chance of winning. However, I might bet on Ex Nihilo Tango, even in spite of his slightly less favorable odds (4 to 1), in hopes of reaping greater rewards if I am proven correct. Our good friend, that I forgot to mention, who came along with us decides to place a hefty bet on Colt of God, based partially on faith, as well as a tip he received that he personally believes.

In case you haven’t already figured it out, the horses in my analogy represent Atheism, basic Theism, and Christianity, respectively. All of them share different odds, with the odds worsening as the unfounded belief complicates (as mandated by Occam’s Razor). However, depending on your personal philosophy, you might find it more exhilarating and/or worth your while to place your money on a less favored position if you believe the results to be greater should you be proven correct. Christians and most theists believe they will be reserved a spot in Heaven if they submit to a belief in God, and so this promise, along with personally-appraised “evidence” in the form of ancient holy texts and teachings, coalesces to form a belief that they consider to be perfectly justified in spite of its less logical properties.

Would you criticize your friend openly for betting on a horse with less favorable odds?

LET’S SAY YOU STILL DON’T HEAR ME…
…I still can offer you help on your mission

Okay, so you’ve read this far, and you’ve actually, honestly considered what I have to say… but you still don’t buy it. That’s fine—your opinion is your own, and it’s one of life’s greatest gifts that we’re able to take ownership of our own beliefs and live our lives in accordance with our closely-held principles. Or maybe you’re just an agnostic, and you’re planning on posting to try and convince others to relinquish their faulty beliefs and join you in your proud agnosticism. That’s fine. But if you’re going on the attack against one side or the other armed with self-righteousness and camouflaged insults, you’re making a mistake.

Imagine that you’re sitting at home, eating a Hot Pocket and watching your favorite television show (Mr. Belvedere), when suddenly, to your horror, you're met with a commercial for motor oil.

"Still using Pennzoil? You're an idiot. Clearly you don't know what you're doing, and you need to examine your position more logically. One of these days you'll relinquish your feeble, irrational approach to automotive care and switch to Valvoline. Valvoline. The choice of intelligent vehicle owners."

Would you rush out and buy Valvoline motor oil after seeing this commercial? I doubt Valvoline would have much success in selling their oil after airing such an unproductive commercial.

It's the same thing with opinions. When you and I engage in an argument, I'm trying to sell my opinion to you. If I attempt to force my opinion on you by insulting your intelligence and suggesting that you're inferior for holding your position, you aren't going to listen to me; you're going to ignore me. Every time I insult you or question your intelligence, you erect a wall between you and me, so that it is ever harder to communicate. As we scream louder and louder to try and compensate for this newly-erected wall, neither one of us can hear the other person for our own wailing and screaming.

This is not an effective discussion… and yet this is the way these discussion usually take place. It doesn’t take a highly intelligent person to express themselves—people do that all the time (just take a look around you). Anyone can voice their opinion. The truly great among us find ways of doing so without isolating those we are speaking to. If we want someone to buy our product, we first have to establish a rapport with them; we must show them that we respect and understand their position.

Stephen R. Covey said it best in his terrific (and terrifically successful) book, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. Habit number three is one of the best of them all:

SEEK FIRST TO UNDERSTAND, THEN TO BE UNDERSTOOD

And this is something that you can do immediately. Look, I’m not good at this either, but I’m trying really, really hard to get better, because it’s one of the most valuable tools you can learn.

When you’re speaking with someone—especially when it’s a touchy subject or you’re trying to convince them to adopt your opinion—first do everything in your power to see things their way. Put yourself in their shoes and adopt the argument as your own. Explore their reasoning and try to understand the causes of their beliefs not through your own lens, but through theirs. Step out of your myopia for just a moment and ask yourself all of the tough questions that will help you to truly understand where the person is coming from.

Restate in your own words what you think they mean. Admit it when you don’t fully follow them, and when you need clarification, ask for it. This flatters people. They will see that you actually are considering what they are telling you, and once you express true comprehension of their opinion, they will open up to yours in ways you could never imagine.

DON’T SEEK TO CONQUER

Philosophical discussion, just like nearly every other form of argument, doesn’t need to be a win-lose interaction. It’s very possible to see things through to a much more mutually satisfying and much more effective win-win outcome, where both parties walk away with a greater respect for each other, as well as each others’ arguments.

JUST THINK ABOUT IT, OKAY?

What do you want? Another useless flame war where you waste hours of your time scrolling down the list and quoting every single post, thinking of the fastest, wittiest, and most pointed response possible in hopes of rallying those who agree with you to “beat down” your opponents into submission… or a pleasant, though-provoking thread filled with civil and intelligent conversations between a number of highly capable human beings? In the former, even if you win, you lose. In the latter, no matter what side of the argument you’re on, as long as you play with an open mind, you win.

Think about it.

~os