James F. Ross
INTRODUCTION
WHAT IS PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION?
It is the philosophical examination of religion: the methodical, critical assessment of re]igious belief, experience, and worship and of the theological concepts, arguments, and systems which have been thought to provide an abstract and coherent explanation of religious belief, experience, and worship.
We can no more easily say what religion is than we can what philosophy is. In fact, part of the task for the philosopher is to formulate an acceptable and generally applicable concept of religion.
Although there is not agreement among philosophers on how theoretically to characterize religion, still, since it is widely agreed that Christianity and Buddhism and Judaism, etc., are definitely and paradigmatically religions, the philosophical investigation of particular religions can proceed, leaving the analysis of the concept "religion" to be undertaken in its proper and separate place.
In general terms, the philosopher approaches a certain class of religious beliefs and phenomena, say those of Christianity or Judaism or the combined tradition (as we shall do), and he asks: ( a) Under what criteria are those beliefs meaningful? (b) Are they true? How can one discover or come to know this? (c) What values do such beliefs con fer upon individuals, what functions do they serve? (d) How do the believers know (in a nontheoretical way) that their beliefs are true (not, why do they say so)? (e) What kinds of things must there be in the universe if these religious beliefs are true? And so on.
The philosopher looks at the religious belief and the religious believers from his vantage as epistemologist (who wonders what sort of thing a "person', must be if persons do this or that, etc.; and what"knowing" is, if we are to countenance knowledge); as a theorist of value (who wonders what function or value is served by the belief, the experiences, the practices); as a metaphysician (what is there in the universe); as a moral theorist (what courses of action would be right and what concepts of "good," "right," and "ought" are fitting to the person who believes thus and so). So one can say that philosophy of religion is the epistemological, ethical, psychological, metaphysical, and logical investigation into the nature, grounds, and functions of religious faith (usually as manifested in a particular religion). It is entirely a theoretical enterprise, with no concern for the conversion of anyone.
This means that at various times we shall encounter questions which in order to be answered require that we should have at hand a reply to some general epistemological, metaphysical, logical, psychological, or moral puzzle (of which our religious question is only a single instance). It means that philosophy of religion is a piggyback science in which the body of religious belief is placed on the backs of five philosophical horses (epistemology, psychology, metaphysics, ethics, and logic) which ride off each in its own direction and into the midst of its own herd of problems. We then observe how well the body of religious belief will stretch, and, when the strain finally comes, we watch carefully to see whether it is due to weakness of the horse (the particular, partially developed general science) or to the weakness of the rider (the religious faith).
We can recognize a religion at least some of the times that we confront one. And we can see the Judaic-Christian tradition of beliefs about the existence, nature, action, and purposes of God and its corresponding beliefs about the nature, obligations, origin and destiny of man, as the religion most closely associated with our Western culture. This is not to suggest that any other religion, Buddhism, Confucianism, etc., would be theoretically of less interest to investigate; nor is it to suggest that expressed beliefs are indubitably central to religion. But the students should know that he cannot productively investigate what he does not, to a significant extent, already understand. And Westerners, on the whole, know very little of the content of Eastern religion. We shall therefore confine our attention in this introduction entirely to the context of the central religious trend in Western culture: the Judaic-Christian tradition.
METHOD
There are as many ways of doing philosophy of religion as there are ways of doing philosophy and they are many indeed, ranging from highly formalistic and mathematized approaches, through the loose, aphoristic, and prophetic forms which border on poetry (and sometimes nonsense). Naturally, we shall in this introduction avoid the more extreme techniques (not, however, denying that they have been followed by some thinkers of distinction). Still, we must choose among three current and respected methods of philosophy: the analytic, the existent al, and the phenomenological.
Nor can we elect our method by claiming that it alone among its contemporaries is the perennial method of Western philosophy. Practitioners of all three methods claim that and claim further that their methods are especially fitted for the philosophy of religion. Therefore, without prejudice to the fact that existential philosophy is especially suited for the inquiry of those who are desperately and ~e intimately concerned with the search for a way of life, and without ignoring the resources of phenomenological analysis for disclosing and unraveling those basic ideas which over and over occur in our discussions, we shall follow primarily the analytical method, one of abstract but rigorous argument which is mainly characteristic of philosophy in America and Britain, recommending the method only in terms of the results we shall display through its application. A more sophisticated comparison of the advantages of differing methods in the area of philosophy of religion is inappropriate to a general introduction and would only delay our coming to grips with the central problems.
THE PROBLEMS
There are more philosophical problems connected with religion than we can usefully mention. Just consider the supposedly simple question: What is religion? Or the questions: What is religious faith? What is divine goodness? What is omnipotence? Could God reveal Himself in such a way that no rational creature could fail to recognize Him? Can we show the human person to be immortal? By what features could you recognize a vision of God if you had one? What are miracles and how could one recognize one?
About each of these, and thousands more, discussion could be virtually endless. So, too, we could generate an endless peripheral discussion if we pretended that the problems which we shall consider in detail are the most important or the most fundamental ones. Therefore, let us be content with this: The problems we consider are: ( 1 ) among those to which the great philosophers have directed explicit attention, ( 2 )among those which are surrounded by very interesting arguments, and ( 3 ) among those to which recent philosophers have made worthy contributions.
For the understanding of this introduction to the subject it is crucial that the student recognize the fundamental difference between the first two chapters. One is concerned with the philosophical establishment of the existence of God and the theoretical definition of the attributes and nature of God; the other, with a philosophical critique of nontheoretical knowledge of God. In the first we are interested in attempts by philosophers and theologians to establish that God exists and that God has certain attributes. In the second we are interested in philosophical explanations of how religious believers could have knowledge (or, at least, justified belief) through their religion, belief which they have, in the main, acquired through religious instruction but without benefit of theoretical and systematic investigations.
Even if one could conclude that we cannot establish the existence of God or that God has certain attributes ( e.g., that He "created the visible world"), this would still leave open the question of whether religious believers have knowledge of God's existence or His nature or are justified in believing in God, in believing that God exists, that God has a certain nature, and that God has certain purposes to work out in the universe. For it should be most obvious, even to a beginner in philosophy, that if religious believers (on the whole) do have justified belief in these things, it is not through any philosophical or theoretical argument they possess; most people have never heard of the arguments we shall discuss and would only distort them or find them superfluous if they encountered them. Whatever the justification the believer may have, it's something which is his own and is not something to be provided by the speculations of the metaphysician. A theoretical consideration of whether believers are or could be justified in their religious beliefs is the subject of the second chapter.
In the third chapter we discuss the topic of evil (with some animadversions to determinism and predestination). The subject has always functioned centrally in philosophical and theological inquiry and has been intensively debated in our century with what I take to be notable advances.
It is of great value to the student to recognize that unresolved problems of logic, of theory of knowledge, ethics and metaphysics recur full-grown in other areas of philosophy and demand our recourse to the general epistemological, ethical, and metaphysical contexts where they are treated with a family of similar questions. The problem of evil is an especially good example of such a recurrence of problems belonging to other areas of philosophy —particularly ethics, metaphysics, and logic.
The fourth chapter consists of an introduction to the theory of analogy which is the "classical" systematic answer to the question as to whether religious discourse is cognitively meaningful. Combining Chapter Four, which is a portion of a general theory of meaning, with Chapter Two, which is a partial account of the origins of nontheoretical knowledge of God, we have an affirmative alternative to the attacks upon the possibility of religious knowledge which are based upon the "verifiability" and related criteria of meaning and which conclude that religious knowledge is impossible because the discourse in which the religion is expressed is without intelligible content. It is the assumption of this chapter that the recent disputes over cognitive meaningfulness of religious discourse have largely missed the point, and that a more fruitful discussion of "religious knowledge" should be founded upon: (a) a reconstruction of the theory of analogy; (b) an examination of the nature of testimonial evidence; (c) an examination of religious experience as an instance of perceptual knowledge.
Finally, it may be of use to list here some of the characteristic claims which are argued or urged in this introduction:
(a) "Proofs" or establishment of the existence of God are part of a theoretical enterprise and have their value as good or bad arguments independently of whether they are convincing to anyone. Such theoretical proofs are disengaged from the acquisition or abandonment of religious belief.
(b) There appear to be some theoretical arguments for the existence of God which make perfectly reasonable assumptions, are logically consistent in form, and lead to the conclusion that a being capable of divinity exists necessarily.
(c) Theoretical considerations suggest that the principle of sufficient reason is false, that God is not the sufficient reason for the world (in the way classical theologians thought), and that God "accounts" for the world by being the logically necessary condition for the possibility that the world is explained or accounted for.
( d ) Religious knowledge can indeed be transmitted by a chain of testimony which originates in the experiences of apostles and prophets.
(e) There is nothing about the supposed originating experiences of apostles and prophets that displays an epistemological deficit on their part which is not shared by human experience in general; as a result, one cannot a priori deny the possibility that religious knowledge came to mankind in that way.
(f) With due attention to the way perceptual sets and significance-assignments affect human experience, there is no theoretical reason why the apostles and prophets did not know by experience exactly what they pretended to know.
(g) There is no reason to believe on the basis of what we know about the relationship of God and the world that God is not good or is limited in power because of the evils in the world. In fact, we can see that all such forms of reasoning will be logically mistaken or epistemologically circular.
(h) There is no reason to believe religious discourse to be cognitively meaningless; there is every reason to believe that an adequate theory of language can be constructed which will display the cognitive continuity of discourse in religious and nonreligious contexts.
CHAPTER I
Philosophical Establishment of the Existence and Nature of God
INITIAL CONSIDERATIONS
What Sort of Being Do We Inquire About?
If you think that just because we have restricted our discussions to the context of the Judaic-Christian tradition, we can simply say what are the characteristics a thing must have to be God, you are mistaken. It is not obvious from the Holy Scriptures that it is an essential or defining characteristic of God that He knows everything (including the sum of two arbitrarily chosen imaginary numbers); nor is it obvious from Scripture and tradition that God is omnipresent or that God has no accidental or acquired characteristics. We must, unfortunately, select a subtradition which we consider to embody the "orthodox" or "proper" description of God.
We shall do so, without further preface: God is a being which is infinite (unlimited by any other, whether actual or possible ), omnipotent, eternal, omnipresent, omniscient, a disembodied intelligence, benevolent, morally perfect, aesthetically admirable, worthy of worship, and personal (in the sense that He can enter into encounter and communication with the finite persons He has created).
Some students object to our beginning with a "definition of God," saying that a definition prejudices inquiry, especially when they are told that whether the being exists is a dependent function of ~ohat sort of a being it is (as is argued by Anselm and Descartes ). This is both right and wrong. Certainly some restrictions on the term "God" are appropriate After all, if "God" meant "the 1966 Volkswagen," it would be an easy and empirical matter to prove the existence of such a being. We would need only to go to the dealer's showroom. Moreover, a person who meant that by the term "God" would be childish. But what of the person who means "a being which is finite in power and knowledge but is creator of the world, etc."? There is nothing wrong with his definition of the term "God," as such. We can criticize the definitions of such a term only in some determined context of correct use. Where ordinary contexts are many, diverse, inconsistent, and vague we have to seek additional restrictions from contexts which we consider "authoritative" in some sense. Hence we turn to a class of theologians whom we consider to be orthodox on the point and fill out our concepts with theirs. Should someone wish to alter or eliminate various characteristics, that is his privilege. As long as you are clear about what sort of being it is whose existence or nonexistence you wish to establish, you have complete freedom to frame your defiinition as you wish. But if you want to know whether there is any such being as the Christians and the Jews think exists and is to be called "God," you must frame your definition in a way which will make your answer relevant to their beliefs. If you wonder why we need any definition at all, you should now know that we need it in order to know what we are talking about, in order to know what claims and criticisms are relevant to our inquiry. With no description or definition to work from, we will literally fail to know what we are talking about.
But our characterization of God is neither religiously nor theologically neutral: it is not common to several religions and further involves certain ideas like "morally perfect" and "omniscient" which are apparently inexplicable apart from philosophical or theological theory developed by religious systematizers. Is that bad? Since we restrict ourselves to the Judaic-Christian tradition, there is no defect in our not using a minimal concept "God" which would be applicable to all religions and to all things people call "God"; why, there may be no concept "God" which will be adequate for all religionsl (Try to formulate one.) The fact that our description contains some system-bound concepts (morally perfect, omniscient, eternal) is a limitation but not a defect, provided we later explain these ideas without having to accept the whole system of philosophical thought from which they arose. I think the reduction of these system-bound concepts to unbound concepts can be made in its appropriate place. So, though we admit that the characteristics which are made essential to God are themselves in need of explanation, this is not a defect in the enterprise of describing God. We have to get off the ground sometime and can unwrap our baggage later.
We must explicitly admit that the concept "God" we employ is one representative of the JudaicChristian tradition, but that it is not equally representative of all strands of that tradition; and, further, that the characteristic attributes we associate with the term "God" are themselves in need of philosophical explanation and interrelation.
For many centuries there has been confusion about the function of arguments for the existence of God. Some writers like St. Anselm appear to have thought their arguments were sufficient to convince anyone who understood them. Others may have thought their arguments were primarily useful for the conversion of unbelievers and for the strengthening of the faith of the reader. A few writers seem to have thought that arguments for the existence of God are chiefiy useful as parts of philosophical and theological theory with little relevance to practical faith. The student must not take these alternatives as if they were clearly envisioned by the classical philosophers as objectives among which they might choose; the orientation of a particular author was often determined by the circumstances under which he did his work ratber than by conscious selection.
Some Facts
Very few persons who believe there is a god of the sort supposed by the Judaic-Christian tradition have come to this belief by any formal process of reasoning or argumentation; by far the largest percentage of believers have acquired their faith through the teaching (not the reasoning or argumentation) of parents, pastors and their cultural environment. If such believers really do have knowledge of or justified belief in the existence of God, it is obvious that it was not acquired through arguments for the existence of God. Among the relatively small group of persons who come to believe that there is a god of the sort supposed by the Judaic-Christian tradition and who become religious believers as adults through the process of conversion, there are still very few who reached their beliefs through arguments; but there are a significant number whose beliefs have been buttressed and perhaps even precipitated through popularizations of the"design" and"first cause" arguments. That these popularized versions have neither the merit of validity nor that of true premises is incidental to the midwifery they provide for the nascent faith of the convert-to-be. People, on the whole, are simply not converted through arguments nor are their children, born in the faith, initially educated through arguments.
Arguments for the existence of God, if they have any value at all in the formation of re]igious faith, have that value tangentially to some other purpose they serve.
A Question of Purpose
From what we know now about human psychology we can see how pointless it would be for a philosopher to think that he could frame an argument which will convince everyone who understands it. Some people are so profoundly prejudiced that, although they see what you are saying, they cannot see that what you are saying is true, even if it is. This holds not only for religion but for politics, morality, art, practical affairs and every area of human action wherein a mans desires can become the ruler of his intellect. Hence, it is childish to think you can convince everyone who understands you by means of one informal (or formal) argument; there are some people who would fail to be convinced no matter what argument you gave them. Therefore, St. Anselm was just wrong and plainly in ignorance of human folly when he thought that his argument would convince everyone, even the Psalmist's fool "who says in his heart
There is no God.'" If you expect the philosopher to produce an argument which will or could convince everyone who understands it, you are asking more than any human can do. It is no just criticism to say that a philosopher has failed to convince you; that may tell us more about you than it does about his work.
It is equally hopeless to think you can begin an argument from facts which are obvious to everyone; there is no reason to think that there is very much or even anything which everyone knows. A fortiori there is no reason to think everyone knows what is needed as the starting point for an "effective" argument for the existence of God.
But what would an "effective" argument for the existence of God be like? If it does not have to convince (in the sense of "bring x to know") everyone, if it does not have to begin from premises which everyone knows, what does it have to be like?
There are certain minimal conditions which no one could reasonably dispute. (1) An effective argument must have true premises and a true conclusion. It would surely be worthless if it began with what is false or if it began with the truth and concluded with what is false. (2) An effective argument must be logically valid; it must not be possible to construct a parallel argument which will begin with true premises and end in a false conclusion. Combining the first two properties, truth of premises and validity of form, we define the property "soundness" which is the first and indispensable requirement of an effective argument A sound argument can be constructed for any true proposition.
To remind you of this fact. Consider any two true propositions, p and q. We can always construct the following two sound arguments:
(a) 1. p )q (b) 4. q )p
2. p 5. q
3. q 6. p
Any two true propositions are "materially" equivalent and thus materially imply one another, with the result that lines 1 and 4 must be true if both p and q are true. But hnes 2 and 5 are true by the suppositions of the case we consider, and are sufficient, therefore, to render 1 and 4 true. Hence all our premises are true, as well as our conclusions. But the form of our argument is modus ponens (an inference from the truth of the antecedent to the truth of the consequent) the key elementary valid argument form. Hence, both arguments are valid and have true premises, therefore, they are sound. Since p and q stand for any two true propositions, it follows that we can construct a sound argument for any true proposition. Since by trivial manipulations we can create an infinite number of true propositions from two true propositions, we can get an infinite number of true premises for any true conclusion. Hence, no one can consistently believe that God exists and that no sound argument for this conclusion can be constructed. So much the worse for certain theologians who thought so.
Yet, soundness of argument alone will not fulfill the purposes of arguments for the existence of God.
But this brings us back to our key question. What purpose is an argument (of the sort designed by the classical philosophers who wrote about the existence of God) supposed to serve? We have already eliminated the objectives of convincing everyone, most people, or even a large number of people on the ground that people do not normally acquire beliefs about such all-important matters as the existence of God by means of formal arguments. We have also eliminated the objective of beginning with "what everyone knows" on the ground that there is no such body of knowledge held in common by everyone. We have, in effect, eliminated religious purposes as the primary function to be served by arguments for the existence of God; this is not at all to deny that such arguments may serve to support, or even to precipitate the religious faith of some or even many persons; it is merely to insist that whether or not an argument will serve those functions is incidental and inessential to its intrinsic merits. The purpose to be served by the traditional arguments for the existence of God is philosophical: the arguments are supposed to provide a theoretical establishrment of the conclusion that God exists.
What is a Theoretical Establishment?
It is a proof according to the standards of correct abstract thought. The premises have to be publicly testable by means of a philosophical investigation and must have their truth or falsity decidable, at least in principle, through the application of thought according to the methods of the philosopher. The structure of the argument has to be such that one could come to see that its premises are true without already having as grounds for this knowledge, one's knowledge that the conclusion is true—it must not be circular. While there is not widespread agreement over what is involved in "being publicly testable by means of a philosophical investigation," it is already evident that we simply must not ask of a philosophical argument that it should convince anyone in particular or even, perhaps, anyone at all. The whole point of such arguments is quite different from that of bringing individual people to know what they did not know before.
The arguments for the existence of God which are examined by the philosopher are much more like the arguments for some hypothesis in physics or some other pure science than they are like the arguments between football buffs over which strategy a coach should adopt. Whether they are good, eflective arguments or not is to be decided through investigation according to the methods of the ap- , propAate abstract science and is to be decided without consideration of the personal convictions or conversion of any individual. ~
The classical arguments are in no wise weakened by or properly criticized merely by your saying that j:' they do not satisfy you. You must enter into the context of purely theoretical criticism and present objections based upon reasons and plausible arguments, just as you would have to do in criticizing an argument by Euclid or Einstein in their respective fields of inquiry. (Can you imagine that Pythagoras should feel justly criticized because you find his demonstration of his key theorem to be unconvincing? )
It is because of this most important distinction between the proper context in which to view the classical arguments for the existence of God and the proper context in which to criticize the process by which individual religious believers acquire their beliefs (which is little or not at all through the classical arguments for the existence of God), that I have made such a clear demarcation between the first two chapters. First we are concerned with arguments presented in the context of abstract systematic philosophy ( regardless of what confusion there may be about the uses to which the arguments were originally to be put). Then in the second chapter we consider the nontheoretical knowledge of God which is claimed by many religious persons and undertake a philosophical examination of the nature and ground for such knowledge. That chapter is primarily an application of the general study of theory of knowledge to the particular context of knowledge of "religious" truths. In that section we shall explain how the philosophical arguments discussed in the first chapter may serve important tangential and incidental purposes in the creation of knowledge of God among those who pursue such knowledge as existentially concerned human beings. Whether the philosophical arguments we are about to discuss succeed or fail in serving these purposes is wholly inconsequential to their inherent merits and defects, which will be explained in the following pages.
We can go even further, saying that whether or not a given argument for the existence of God (or, for that matter, an argument for any philosophical conclusion whatever) fails to convince everyone, everyone who understands it, some people or even anyone at all is entirely incidental to what may be its true merit. For, it is conceivable that philosophers should produce a perfectly sound argument which is not circular and with premises whose truth is definitely discoverable through philosophical investigation, and yet whose premises are such that no one knows enough (other than perhaps the author) to see that they are true. It fails to convince anyone at all, but it still has the intrinsic structure sufficient to create knowledge of its conclusion for a person who knows enough to see that it is sound. So, a good argument need actually convince no one.
Paradoxical? Yes. But you will best grasp the whole question by defending one of the opposed views, by insisting that an argument for the existence of God (and for any other philosophical conclusion) must convince everyone who understands it, or convince someone who understands it. How will you decide whom it must convince? And under what circumstances must it convince such persons? Can you construct a sound argument which is not circular and will fail to convince someone who understands it? If you try these things diligently, you may still dislike the conclusion I suggest, but you will understand what is problematical about the requirements which an argument must satisfy and how careful you must be if you wish to be fair to the whole enterprise of arguing for or against the existence of God or some other philosophical conclusion.
Our question was: what must we require of arguments to show that there is such a being? We can answer as follows: such arguments must be sound; they must be noncircular; they must have premises which are publicly testable (and not only through some inner and unrepeatable experience ); their premises must be, at least in principle, decidable through a philosophical examination.
The nature of a "philosophical examination" and the ways it will differ from simple experimental verification still need to be explained. But the student does best to leave such points open until he sees how such criticism is actually conducted. The best way to learn philosophical method is not to hear it described, but to enter its spirit as it is applied.
Distinguishing Some Questions
When some people read St. Anselm's argument to show that there is something which exists and which is such that nothing more perfect is conceivable, or St. Thomas Aquinas' argument to show that there exists a first uncaused cause, or the argument to show that there exists an intelligent designer of the universe, they say, "Even if we granted that the argument is sound, it would not prove God exists because it only proves that some first cause, intelligent designer or most perfect conceivable being exists." And they take this to be a decisive objection because the author of the argument has not shown (by another argument?) that this being is God. However, to look at the arguments this way is to distort the historical context in which they originated. They were part of a process of establishing the existence of God and are only the first or existential step: to show that the being, which God is, exists. It is entirely a separate matter to show that the being whose existence is established is identical with God. The reasoning by which the existent is identified as having all the essential attributes of God is not part of the existence-argument itself but must be sought outside it. Hence, "Does God exist?" is a complex question. One can think of answers in the form of an argument to show that a certain sort of being exists, without asking for a separate and detailed identification in it of all the characteristics of God which we listed earlier, and one can demand the completion of the whole systematic enterprise of establishing both the existence and the identification. If one demands the latter, it is unfair to tax the initial arguments for not supplying it. If one wants only the former, then to say the authors have failed to establish the existence of God requires that one show where the argument is defective, or show that such a being could not be identified with God. It is unfair to criticize an argument for failing to achieve what it never set out to do.
THE PHILOSOPHICAL ARGUMENTS
A great many philosophers have offered arguments to show that some being which can be identified as God exists. In fact, there are so many different arguments that there is a variety of ways to classify them, a variety rendered bewildering because essentially the same argument has often been treated as being of quite diverse sorts. In an introduction to the philosophy of religion it is usual to concentrate upon the classical prototypes—the arguments of St. Anselm, those of St. Thomas and the so-called moral arguments. Our only innovations will be to discuss Spinoza's argument based upon the Principle of Sufficient Reason and to mention another type which originates with the Arabian medievals and with Duns Scotus—the Modal Argument.
St. Anselm (1033-1109): The Ontological Argument
Even a fool can understand that God is "a being than which nothing greater can be conceived," begins the great medieval theologian. Such a being "exists in the understanding," as is obvious since we think of it. Either it exists only as thought of or it exists in reality as well. Suppose it exists only as thought of; then we can think of something which is in every respect the same except that it exists in reality as well as in thought; this latter thing would be better than the former since it surpasses the former in having real existence as well as existence as something thought of. However, the former cannot then be something than which a greater cannot be conceived ( for we just conceived a greater). Therefore, only a being which exists in reality as well as in thought can be such that nothing greater can be conceived: so, that than which nothing greater can be conceived really exists.
In Anselm's words: "If that-than-which-a-greater~ cannot-be-thought is in the understanding alone, this same thing, than-which-a-greater-cannot-bethought, is also that-than-which-a-greater-can-bethought. But this is clearly impossible. Doubtless, then, there exists both in the understanding andt in reality a being-than-which-a-greater-cannot-be-~ thought."
Naturally, St. Anselm does not mean "greater" in any physical sense; he means it in an evaluative sense: "more perfect," "more excellent," or "more worthy of admiration." And, as is evident in the paraphrase which precedes his words, "to exist im the understanding" means merely to exist as something which is thought of. It is perfectly correct for one to say "there! is something which I am. thinking of a purple unicorn." Thus the heart og Anselm's first argument is that if the being we are thinking of when we think of what is such that~ nothing more perfect can be conceived does not really exist, then we cannot have been consistent' in our thought because a being which is really existent and was in every other respect the same would be more perfect. The only thing we can be thinking of, if we think consistently, when we think of a being than which nothing more perfect is conceivable is a really existing being. We cannot be thinking of a really existing being unless such a being actually exists.
Let us consider a second (among several others)version in which Anselm's reasoning appears in the Proslogiom and in his reply to the objections of the Monk Gaunilo.
Everytiung which can exist falls into one of two classes: those things which can be thought of as not existing and those things which cannot be: thought of as not existing. Whatever can exist and cannot be thought of as not existing must be more perfect than any member of the first class. Now if that than which nothing greater can be conceived does not fall into the second class (the things which cannot be thought of as not-existing) then such a being cannot be that-than-which-nothing-greater- ~ can-be-conceived, because every member of the sec-. ond class (because of the fact that it can exist and eannot be thought not-to-exist) will be some-~ thing more perfect than it. Hence, that-than-which-~ nothing-greater-can-be-conceived must be such that it cannot ( consistently ) be thought not-to-exist. Whatever cannot (consistently) be thought not-toexist must, of necessity, exist. Therefore that-thanwhich-nothing-greater-can-be-conceived exists necessarily.
Comments: The great fertility of these arguments is indicated first by the fact that most great philosophers from Aquinas, Scotus, and Bonaventure through Descartes, Spinoza, and Immanuel Kant have felt compelled to take a position for or against them. Secondly, discussion of these arguments has Hourished in the last thirty years, with the greater number of papers appearing in the last decade.3
2 St. Ansel~n puts the point tbis way: ". . . Something can be thought of as existing which cannot be thought of as not~ existing, and this is greater than that which can be thought of as not existing. So, if that, than which a greater cannot. be thought, can be thought of as not existing, this very thing than which a greater cannot be thought is not that than which a greater cannot be thought. But that is contradictory. Therefore, there truly exists a being than which a greater' cannot be thought—so truly that it cannot even be thought of as not existing."
3Charles Hartshorne has argued effectively that the real merits of the argument have eluded most cridos. See Man's Vision of Goct (New York, Harper & Row, Inc., 1941); The~ Logic of Perfection (Lasalle, Illinois, Open Court Publishing~ Co., 196~); and his introduction to the Open Court Anselm: Selections ( Note 1 above ). Norman Malcolm, in "Anselm s . Ontological Arguments," Philosophical Review1960), has supported Anselm vigorously, though he takes D considerable liberty with Anselm's text and treats "necessary existence" as a special predicate. The paper was variously and inconsistently criticized in a flock of rejoiners, some of which appeared a year later in the same journal. Others have floated to the surface in other journals since then. See the indices of The Monist, The Review of Metaphysics, Journal of Philosophy, Theoria, Mind, etc. Especially see: A. Plantinga (editor), The Ontological Argument (New York, Doubleday, 1965 ).
Thirdly, it is one of the more humorous features of the history of philosophy that while the predominant reaction to Anselm's reasoning is to pronounce it fatally ill, no two prognosticators seem to agree on just what is wrong with it or even upon which of its elements are symptomatic of its defects. Fourthly, and most importantly, the questions which have been opened by this argument and the inquiries it has occasioned have been impressive indeed—e.g., whether "existence" is a predicate; whether it is legitimate to argue from the nature of what must be thought about reality to the nature of reality irrespective of our thought; whether something can exist necessarily; whether an existential conclusion can be derived from necessary premises.
The first important objector, a monk and a contemporary of St. Anselm, wrote a reply "In Behalf of the Fool" in which he applied the reasoning to "the most perfect island" and derived the consequence that there exists an island such that no more perfect island can be conceived. In his retort Anselm, whose inspiration seemed to have left him, pointed out that one of the conditions (made clear in the second version above) left unfulfilled by any island is that it is not such that it cannot be thought of as not-existing; for any real island will be part of the physical world and like the whole world of nature can be conceived not-to-exist. He could also have added that the very nature of the qualities of an island requires that they be realized in space and time and therefore that they could conceivably be improved. A physical object so perfect that it could not be surpassed is like the largest number—impossible. Hence, "the perfect island" is not a legitimate counter-example to Anselm's reasoning because it is inconsistent in itself.
St. Thomas Aquinas opposed Anselm, saying that the mere fact that a really existing thing identical with the-most-perfect-conceivable-thing would be more perfect than such a thing existing-only-inthe-mind does not show that such a being exists: ". . . yet, granted that everyone understands that by the name God is meant something than which nothing greater can be thought, nevertheless it does not follow that he understands that what the name designates actually exists but only that it exists mentally. Nor can it be argued that it actually exists unless it is admitted that there actually exists something than which nothing greater can be thought; and this is precisely what is not admitted by those that hold that God does not exist."
4 St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, I.,q.2, art.1, reply to Objection 2. See Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas edited by Anton C. Pegis, Modern Library, New York, 1948, p. 22. The reason why Aquinas' meaning is not fully clear is that he is not directly examining Anselm's argument but rather, is replying to the contention that "God exists" is a self-evident truth because God, that than which nothmg greater can be conceived, has existence essentially. Aquinas is primarily concentrating upon showing that the conclusion is not self-evident. Apparendy, St. Thomas never addressed the Ansel~nian argument as a simple attempt to demonstrate the truth of its conclusion and no more.
Immanuel Kant ( 17~4-1804 ) in his critique of Anselm's argument insists that the necessities of thought are not always necessities of reality apart from the way we think of it. Hence, the whole principle of the second version of Anselm is unacceptable to him. Kant objected with the now-famous dictum that existence is not a predicate. To say that something exists is not to say anything more about what or of what sort it is than we could have said w~thout saying whether or not it exists. But to say that something is red or a triangle is indeed to say something about what or of what sort it is. If a predicate is that through which we indicate what or of what sort something is, then existence is not a predicate. Kant concludes that to assert that something exists is merely to apply our concepts of what or of what-sort-it-is to the world.
Now what the force of this objection is has never been fully clear, though it is obviously intended to reject the assumption of Anselm's first version: that of two things, a and b, exactly alike in all respects except that a does and b does not exist, a is more perfect than b. If Kant intended to argue that the perfection of the being is entirely conferred by its predicates, by whatever determines what or of what sort it is, then he would indeed be effectively objecting to Anselm. This is perhaps why Norman Malcolm introduced the predicate "necessary existence" into his explanation of the second forms of Anselm's argument (see footnote 3 above), for that predicate would appear to determine what sort of thing we are dealing with and would distinguish it from things of other sorts. Thus Kant may very well be right that existence is not a predicate. Is Norman Malcolm right in saying that necessary-existence is a predicate?
The dispute over whether existence is a predicate and over whether or not something which exists is more perfect than something which, though otherwise identical, does not exist has led by way of dhe second form of Anselm's argument to a dispute over whedher something can exist necessarily (be such that it could not have failed to exist). David Hume contended (in both his Treatise on Human Nature and his Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion) that nod1ing can be thought to exist which cannot also be thought not to exist (dhus denying one of Anseln~s premises in the second form of argument above); and, therefore, that no existential conclusion can be derived from a set of premises all of whose members are a priori. A great number of writers and coundess students have said "Anselm's premises are a combination of definitions and tautologies (necessary or analytic truths); they are intended to be a priori; therefore, his existential conclusion does not follow."
But this is just too facile. For one thing, the denial of an existential statement can easily be shown to follow from necessary premises and definitions:
a. A square circle is something both square and not square (a definition).
b. Whatever is both square and not square, does not exist.
c. Therefore, it is false that there is a square circle.
Therefore, the negation of the conclusion (the double negation of an existential statement) follows logically from the appropriate negation of one of dhe premises (conjoined widh the others). For example, negate (b) and you can derive the negation of (c) from (a) and negated (b). But the negation of (c) is a double negation of an existential and by the rules of logic is equivalent to the assertion, to the afirmative existential.
Hence, Hume's objection boils down to the claim
that an affirmative existential conclusion does not r follow logically from true premises which are defintions or a priori alone.
But this is doubtful on two grounds: (a) it begs the question against Anselm and others by amounting to an unsupported denial that his premises are true, a denial undefended by any independent reasoning for thinking that they are not true; (b) in purely formal systems such as Russell's Prinmpia Mathematica some particular existential statements do follow logically from premises which are either definitions or axiomatic (treated as necessary truths). Hence, it is by no means clear that Hume was right. Moreover, when we consider Spinoza's argument, below, we wil1 see that if we take the Principle of Sufficient Reason as a necessary truth, an existential conclusion can indeed be derived from analytic premises. This rejection of Hume's contention is additionally supported by the Modal Argument we shall describe which uses a much weaker premise than the embattled sufficient reason principle, yet still results in an existential conclusion from a priori premises. Hume's position finally turns out to be the simple denial of the truth of his opponents' premises and, therefore, begs the question.
We take the unresolved controversy over St. Anselm's arguments no further, since it should be your delight to develop your own defense or critique of it, perhaps in consultation with some of the vast literature surrounding it.
The question of whether there can be some existent which has its existence by virtue of what it is and which thus exists necessarily is of the greatest importance to philosophy. Anselm, Avicenna, Aquinas, Maimonides, Duns Scotus, Spinoza and Leibniz are committed to the alfirmative; Hume, Kant, Locke, negative. The issues involved touch upon logic, theory of knowledge, and metaphysics, and will tax your utmost resources.
St. Thomas Aquirnas (1~4-1~74): The Five Ways
In his vast Summa Theologica (three quarto volumes), St. Thomas devotes about two pages to a sketch of five arguments to prove the existence of the being which is God. He later takes up the explication of the divine characteristics and the identification of the being whose existence he proves in considerable detail.
We shall not discuss, among those five arguments, the First Way, which is taken largely from Aristotle's proof that there is a first unmoved mover who originates al1 the motion in the physical world; nor shall we discuss the Fourth Way which is Neoplatonic ( Augustinian ) in spirit. Rather, we shall concentrate upon the other three.
Each of St. Thomas' arguments begins with the citation of some obvious fact about the world—that some things are moved; that some things are caused to begin to exist; that some things depend upon others; that there are degrees of beauty and goodness; and that natural things regularly behave as if seeking some goal. He then argues that these facts could not be accounted for if there were no first mover, uncaused cause, necessary being, perfect being, or cosmic designer. The body of each proof consists of his reasons why these facts could not be accounted for if his conclusions were false. I shall summarize and explain the three representative arguments before commenting upon their soundness.
The Second Way
1. Some things stand in an (essential) ordering of efficient causes
2. Nothing can be an efficient cause of its own
being.
3. A series of essentially ordered causes of being
cannot be infinite
4. Therefore, there is a first efficient cause (which is uncaused).
Explanation: Any efflcient cause is a cause independent in being from its effect; it is an external producer of an effect. (The artist, given his equipment, is efficient cause of his work of art). A series of causes can be ordered in various ways—e.g., temporally, spatially, etc. It can sometimes be ordered according to dependence, such that a given member cannot produce its effect except when and while under the influence of the cause which precedes it; the effect is dependent in being upon its cause. Thus, in a stack of bricks the one which holds up the top one exercises its causality in holding the top one where it is only by virtue of the fact that the bricks under it are holding it up, and so on down through the whole stack. Such an ordering of causality is an essential ordering. Some things are brought into being by a series of causes each of which acts in virtue of that which effects and causes its own being. Take the whole set of things upon which your being now depends, and all the things upon which their being depends. Can the sequence be infinite? They would have to exist simultaneously. Does it seem likely that an infinite number of things interdependently ordered and without temporal predecessors now exist and sustain you? It is like the story where a boy asks what holds up the world. He is told "Atlas." What holds up Atlas? "He is standing on the back of a turtle." What holds the turtle? "He is in the water." What holds up the water? "It is water all the way down." To where?
How tall and long would a brick wall be where every brick is held up by adjacent bricks below and r beside it? Is such a wall possible? What could account for it?
The Third Way.
Some things are such that both to be and not to be are possible for them.
2. lt is impossible for these things always to exist.
3. If everything can not-be, then at one time there was nothing.
4. If at one time nothing existed, nothing would now exist.
. If at one time nothing existed, it would be impossible for anything to begin to exist.
6. Therefore, not all tbings can not-be (and some
things can begin to exist. ) I
7. Therefore, something exists which cannot not-be and has this attribute of itself.
Explanation: The terms of this argument are clear enough, but its logic may not be. The things which are capable of not-existing are all thought to begin to exist and therefore at some time not-to-be. St. Thomas assumes that if for each thing there is a time when it does not exist, then there is a time at which no thing exists. ( Do you think this is logically sound; if not, why not?) The procedure is then to work backwards: some things begin to exist (they do); it is false that at one time nothing existed; therefore the antecedent of ( 3 ) "everything can not-be" must be false; so not everything can notbe; thus, we arrive at ( 6 ).
The basic idea behind this argument is that if we assumed that all existence is contingent, there can and could have been nothing which really expLains why anytbing at all exists; the philosophical search for an explanation of the being of things will have been abandoned at the outset and the universe must be acknowledged to be irrational—the latter course appearing utterly incredible and an abandonment of philosophy (which is a search for explanations ) to St. Thomas.
The Fifth Way: Governance
. Some things which lack knowledge act for an end. (This is obvious from their regularity and adaptation. )
e. They achieve these ends not fortuitously, not by chance, but designedly. Otherwise, they would not be "adapted."
3. Whatever lacks knowledge cannot move toward an end unless it be directed by something endowed with knowledge and intelligence.
4. Therefore, some intelligent being exists by whom all natural things are directed to their ends.
Explanation: This is an argument, basically, that regularity of behavior (adaptation) in diverse environments requires an explanation; that goal-directed activity must ultimately be explained through an intelligence. Chance cannot account for the degree of regularity with which the welfare of individuals is achieved in the universe; the alternative to chance is purpose. The natural agents in question are incapable of purpose, despite their purposive acts (acts done as if on purpose). Therefore, the purposing agent lies outside them, as does the archer, his arrow. The cosmic purposer, or governor, is the being which is God.
You must distinguish this argument, based upon the regularity of goal-directed action to benefit individual agents and to benefit the species, from the so-called "design" arguments which are based upon analogies as to the origin of complex things (as we shall mention below). The principles in question are significantly different. While it has been traditional since the time of Kant to call those analogy arguments "teleological arguments" (that is, arguments based upon the descrying of purpose in things),this fifth way of St. Thomas Aquinas is actually the paradigm of a teleological argument, since it is entirely based upon the question of how we can explain the existence of goal-directed activity. The "design argument" that we shall discuss later (which is usually but inappropriately called "teleological") is more properly treated in the context of arguments by analogy.
Comments: Both the Second and Fifth Ways contain an elementary logical fallacy: a quantifier reversal. From the fact that every series of essentially ordered efficient causes must have a first cause, it does not follow that there is one first cause for all series of essentially ordered causes; from the fact that for every nonintelligent being which acts purposively, there must be a purposing being, it does not follow that there is one purposing being for all purposive agents. This is like saying that just because every mistress has a lover, so there is someone who is the lover for every mistress. The inference cannot be justified on logical grounds.
However, a logical defect of this sort can, as you learned in your logic course, always be repaired through quite trivial steps: by introducing an additional premise, for instance, that whenever there is a first uncaused cause in one series of essentially ordered causes, this being is identical with the first uncaused cause in any other series which is actual. Thus, logical mistakes are important only insofar as they reveal how the assumptions of the argument must be augmented. The actual repair of such defects is always a triviality for a skilled logician Hence, we shall not concentrate on the logical form of the arguments, about which St. Thomas may have taken no special trouble, but rather upon the content. For those additional premises are often obviously false or such as to beg the whole question we set out to decide.
The heart of the Second Way is that the elements of a series of essentially ordered causes cannot be infinite. St. Thomas says: ". . . in efflcient causes, it is not possible to go on to infinity because in all efficient causes following in order, the first is cause of the intermediate cause, the intermediate cause is cause of the ultimate cause, whether the intermediate cause be several, or only one. Now to take away the cause is to take away the effect. Therefore if there be no first cause among efflcient causes, there will be no ultimate, or intermediate causes. But if in efficient causes it is possible to go on to infinity, there will be no first efficient cause; therefore neither ~vill there be an ultim~te eJect, nor any intermediate efficient causes; all of which is plainly false. Therefore, it is necessary to admit a first efficient cause, to which everyone gives the name 'God.' "
St. Thomas' main reason why the series of efficient causes cannot be infinite is that in the infinite set there will be no first efficient cause, as I have italicized in the passage quoted. He finds that consideration decisive because he thinks he can prove that if there ~oere no first eflicient cause, there could be no efficient causes at all. And he thinks it absolutely obvious that there are some efficient causes. Thus by negating the consequent of the last conditional and applying the logical rule modus tollens ( inference from the falsity of the consequent to the falsity of the antecedent), he concludes that there is no infinite series of efficient causes.
With this argument we must learn something new about philosophical method. St. Thomas makes what appears to us now as an elementary mistake about the nature of an infinite series, as a result, one of his key premises is false. If we wished to be superficial, we could note that falsity and then drop his argument from consideration. But we can also add "What would the argument be like, if altered to take account of what we know, which St. Thomas did not know?" In this case I will carry the investigation a step or two further to show you what could be done. You can then go forward on your own with the steps and countersteps connected with the other points considered.
St. Thomas did not know that there can be infinite series which have both a first and a last member. (Can you name one? Can you who have the advantage of seven centuries over Aquinas, show that there must be such a series? ) Hence, St. Thomas was wrong to say "if in efflcient causes it is possible to go on to infinity, there will be no first efficient cause." If the series is ordered appropriately, there might very well be a first efficient cause in an infinite series. But, what did Aquinas primarily want to say? He wanted to say that there cannot be a chain of efflcient causes, whether finite or infinite, which lacks a first member, uncaused by any other in that chain. Anybody can argue this on the ground that the casual activity in the later elements of the series of essentially ordered causes is dependent on the simultaneous activity of everything that precedes it. If the activity of the combined preceding members is not accounted for by the fact that they include one member which is uncaused by any cause, then the activity of the combined preceding members is not accounted for at all or is accounted for by some cause not in the series. In the latter case, there is an uncaused first cause of the series which is not a member of the series. In the former there is no explanation for the existence and activity of the causes in the series, and in fact the causes in the series are impossible. So we find basic to Aquinas' argument this conviction (shared by most philosophers when they are not thinking about philosophy of religion) that for whatever happens m the universe it is in principle possible to give account, to find the explanation. If there were a series of essentially ordered causes in which there was no first member, there would be no accounting to be found for the activity of the later members. Moreover, if the activity of B, C, and D is not possible unless A be acting (as in the definition of series of essentially ordered causes ), then if the series be infinitely long, every member must be simultaneously actual and acting and no later subset could be actual if every earlier subset were not actual. These earlier subsets will either contain an uncaused cause or they will not. If they do not, no member of the series is accounted for. St. Thomas thinks this is impossible. The world is not so irrational that there is no account to be given for any of it at all.
He is committed to the view that for any given efficient cause, it either accounts for its own being or is accounted for by something else. Further, by insisting that an infinite series without a first member is impossible, St. Thomas must now say that it is a necessary truth that every efficient cause either accounts for itself or is accounted for by something else. This leads to the fundamental question: Is it possible that there is no explanation whatever for the being of anything which exists? How can one show which answer to that question is correct?
The Third Way, given the name "cosmological argument" by Kant who subjected it to a careful critique, is severely criticized by most philosophers and yet is regarded as the argument which has the greatest likelihood of intrinsic merit, but probably not in its present form. The second premise, that it is not possible for the things which can be and also can not-be to exist forever, is a relic of Richard of St. Victor's saying: "Those things which are eternal are such that it is entirely impossible that they should not exist . . ." which follows Aristotle: "In the case of eternal things, what can be must be." (Aristotle, The Physics, Book III, Chapter 4 [203 b, 29] ). Most philosophers would see no reason why this is not false. (But what reason is there for thinking it is?) For St. Thomas to reason that just because each thing fails to exist at some time, so at some time there was nothing, is entirely incorrect. (Why? Remember the example of lovers and mistresses?) Furthermore, the use of "time" words is confusing because it is hard to know what "at one time nothing existed" means since there can be no time apart from some existence. To say "if at one time nothing existed, it would be impossible for anything to begin to exist" is simply to evade the whole question. If nothing can begin to exist which doesn't have a cause, then the assumpffon is correct. How can we find out for certain that it is impossible that something should begin to exist even though nothing existed before it? Four premises of this argument—2, 3, 4, and 5—appear to be false.
Nevertheless, there may be some merit to this argument. If you are sure the world is basically explicable, you cannot consistently think that whatever exists is also capable of not-being. For whatever can not-be is incapable of explaining what there is, because it is incapable of accounting for its own being. Hence, if any account is possible for the being of contingent things (the being of things which can both be and not-be), there must be some being which is not capable of not-being.
That would be something which would exist necessarily—a being which is, of necessity; of necessity—not in relation only to something else, but of r necessity in itself: one which exists because of what it is and in virtue of its own nature. This point will be elaborated in our discussion of Spinoza's and the Modal arguments.
The Fifth Way assumes that the opposite of entirely random behavior is regular behavior and that regular behavior, behavior which is carried out as if on purpose, cannot be accounted for apart from our supposing there to be, ultimately, some purposing intelligence which governs the activities of individuals and species in nature. As the antecedent probability that the individual did what he did by chance (e.g., a bird builds its nest) decreases, the probability of an overall governing intelligence (which probability is the product of the complements of the improbability of chance) increases. Of course, this must premise that there is some accounting for the state of the universe which, in principle at least, can be found. In fact, St. Thomas thinks it is impossible that nonrandom, goal-directed activity should occur regularly and not be accounted for by some directing intelligence, because he thinks that if it is not accounted for by some directing intelligence, it cannot be accounted for at all. Now if you could show this belief to be true, then you would have the whole matter at rock bottom. Can things be accounted for or not? (I will show you later on why this is a rock-bottom issue. ) If they can, then there must be a divine intelligence directing the universe and it must be a being which cannot not-be. If things cannot be accounted for, there may be no such being as God is and surely we can never show that there is such a being—how would we ever reason to its existence except as that which is needed to render the world explicable?
We could say to you that if you are willing to deny that things ean be accounted for, then you must justify the enterprises of the physical and biological sciences in terms of their practical results, since the search for the explanation must ultimately be illusory. In fact, you cannot justify inquiries into philosophy, since you must think there are no answers to be found. But these considerations are merely designed to make you uneasy, to put you in doubt. Do you really knouo whether Aquinas' assumptions were wrong or right? There are ways to find out whether things, at least in principle, can be accounted for—how would you go about finding out? The merits or defects of the Five Ways are not dependent upon whether or not you see that they have those merits or defects. But the depth of your philosophical understanding is dependent upon your ability to uncover those defects and recognize whatever may be the merits in such reasoning.
Baruch Spinoza (1637-1677): Sufficient Reason
Instead of showing you the versions of the cosmological argument (the Third Way) which are recognized by Leibuiz and Locke or the version criticized by Hume; instead of displaying the variations on the causal argument (the Second Way) which were used by Descartes, Locke, and Berkeley, we shall briefly consider an argument put forward by Spinoza. Despite the fact that his conception of God does not at all fit the central JudaicChristian tradition, but, rather, stems directly from his disagreement with it, his argument can be considered apart from the metaphysical system in which he describes and identifies God.
Argument from Sufficient Reason
.1.For whatever is so, and for whatever is not so there must be a sufficient reason or explanation.
2. It is either so that God exists or it is so that God does not exist.
3. Assume that God does not exist.
4. Then there must be a sufficient reason or explanation for the nonexistence of God.
5. The sufficient reason or explanation of a state of affairs is either internal to it (to be found in what sort of thing it is) or is extemal to it (to be found im causes which could produce or prevent it).
6. Nothing can bring it about (through causes producing it or preventing it) either that God exists or that God does not exist; for God is by definition both uncausable and unpreventable.
7. Therefore, the explanation of the nonexistence of God must be found m the very nature of God.
8. But those things which by their natures account for their own nonexistence must be inconsistent and impossible—e.g., square circles.
9. There is nothing inconsistent or impossible about "God exists."
o. Hence, there can be no intemal or extemal sufficient reason for the nonexistence of God; so there can be no sufficient reason at all for the nonexistence of God.
. Therefore it is not so that God does not exist (from 1o and 1).
12. Hence, God exists, and this is a necessary truth.
Comments: The clarity of the argument allows us to combine comment and explanation. The two key premises are (1) and (9), since the rest are analytic or follow logically from the others (with the exception of the assumption, (3), which is later to be rejected ).
The technique of argument is to show that on the assumption that God does not exist, it follows logically that God does exist. Hence the assumption that God does not exist is contradictory and necessarily false, its negation being, therefore, necessarily true. This conforms to the general rule of logic which says that whenever any given proposition Q follows both from some other proposition P and from its negation -P, then Q must be necessarily true.
The force of this argument was so great and it succeeded so well in touching at the center of what had been the great medieval arguments for the existence of God that it inspired several generations of European philosophers, notably Schopenhauer, to treat the Principle of Sufficient Reason (the first premise) as the fundamental principle of metaphysics. Later in this chapter we shall consider the vast ramifications of this principle and especially its paradoxical consequences concerning the relation between God and the world.
For now, let us observe that this principle must be considered not only true, but necessarily true, to function as it does in this argument. For the argument to be sound, it must be impossible that anything be so (whether it be that something or another exists or that something or another fails to exist) for which there is not a sufficient reason or explanation (whether or not it be one that we can ever discover). The second key premise (that it is possible that God should exist) is usually not challenged; but it should certainly be noticed and considered.
I will not detract from your pleasure in examining the argument by alleging that it has defects. Instead I will defend it (and the conclusion of the Third Way of St. Thomas as well) against a very common objection among recent philosophers:6 that it is nonsense to talk of a "necessary being" because only propositions can be logically necessary. There are several good replies to this, but the best seems to be two-fold. First, you can frame the arguments as I have done, without talking of "necessary being," by talking only of the logical necessity of the proposition that a being of a certain kind exists. Secondly, you can define the term "necessary being" in a way that is quite intelligible: "X is a necessary being if and only if X is of such a sort that the proposition that there exists something of that sort is a logically necessary truth." What is nonsensical about that?
That definition has defects (if we do not provide additional restrictions ). For, a being which is of sort S ("exists necessarily or contingently") because it is contingent, wiD be necessary if any necessary being exists since it wil1 be a necessary being in virtue of the fact that it belongs to a sort S such that "there exists something of that sort" is logically necessary. What additional restrictions are needed to straighten this out? (Luckily, this is not the only way to provide the definition we need. )
However, we cannot go on without at least mentioning one key objection to this argument. We shall not, however, discuss Spinoza's reply to this objection since this is more appropriately considered in the context of the Modal Argument. The objection runs as follows: Imagine an uncausable and unpreventable man. Assume that it is possible that an uncausable and unpreventable man exists. And assume that the uncausable and unpreventable man does not emst. If there must be a sufficient reason both for whatever is the case and whatever is not the case, then there must be a sufficient reason for the nonexistence of an uncausable and unpreventable man. But if it is possible for the uncausable and unpreventable to exist, then the sufficient reason for the nonexistence of such a being cannot be internal to it. Yet the sufficient reason for the nonexistence of such a being cannot be external to it either, since it is uncausable and unpreventable Therefore there cannot be a sufficient reason for the nonexistence of an uncausable and unpreventable man. Hence the assumption that such a being doe not exist is false; and it is a necessary truth than uncausable and unpreventable man exists.
This objection attempts to draw an exact parallel between the form of argument used by Spinoz~ and an argument involving the existence of an uncausable and unpreventable man. It directs our attention to the fundamental issues. However, while it is generally taken without question that it is possible that God should exist and should be an uncausable and unpreventable being, it is not generally considered to be possible that there should exist an uncausable and unpreventable man. Is there any reason which you can find to show why this should be doubted? We shall consider this point again.
The Design Argument
This is really a family of arguments which Kant labeled "Teleological Arguments." But as we have said, the designation "teleological" seems to apply appropriately only to the subclass of these arguments which are similar to the Fifth Way of St. Thomas Aquinas and does not appropriately apply to those arguments by analogy which we are going to consider now. Etymologically, "teleology" concerns purpose; "design" concerns intelligence and planning.
The design arguments are usually based upon the analogy between the conjectured origin of natural things and events and the design which originates human products. The analogy usually proceeds by a selective description of nature in which one's attention is drawn to those features of natural events which resemble but vastly surpass (in beauty, order, and subtle contrivance ) those characteristic features of human products which best display the intelligence and purpose of the human designer.
This line of reasoning does bear some resemblance to the Fifth Way of St. Thomas, and has definite antecedents in the works of St. Augustine and Plato. Moreover, it is usually the most persuasive line of reasoning adopted by apologists who wish to use appeals to reason to support the claims of religious faith. An excellent epitomization of this line of thought is to be found in William Paley's ( 1748-lSo5 ) Natural Theology.
If, while walking in a desert place, I come upon a watch lying in the sand and wonder how this object came to exist, I can either attribute its origin, (its coming to be not its lying here), to chance or to some intelligent purpose. When I examine its intricate structure and find the complexity of gears, springs, and balances, all arranged to serve the intelligent purpose of measuring the passage of time, it is not possible that seeing what it is to be used for (what it is fitted to do), I can attribute the formation of its intricate design to the chance conveyance of blind natural forces and particles selected at random. I am compelled to suppose that someone (some intelligent being) made it.
Now the natural world is more complex and more intricately contrived than any watch. Consider just the structure of the human eye with its self-adjusting lenses, its phenomenal range of sensitivity to color and light intensity, its infinitely complex coordination with the other senses, and the behavior of its nervous and kinesthetic systems. And the eye is but a small element of the human body, which is in turn just a speck among the similarly intricate billions of living things. The earth itself, with all its regularity of behavior, is an infinitesimal part of the celestial systems whose regularity, balance, and beauty are forever a challenge, a standard, and an ideal for human activity.
Can such a vast system of purposes and achievements have come about through chance?
Each, even the smallest crystal or living organism, contains countless arrangements of parts which resemble but surpass the greatest achievements of human intelligence. How incredible and improbable it would be that any single part arose from chancel And what of the inexorability of the laws of nature? Is it a matter of chance that the universe must run down Is it a matter of chance that the speed of light is fixed as it is, and that the force of gravity is fundamental and all-encompassing? Is it a matter of chance that the natural laws and universal constants will remain unchanged for billions of years? How can appeal to chance be used to exp1nin the origin of the necessity which we observe to govern the behavior of natural things everywhere? We must if we think an explanation possible, postulate an intelligent being, an intelligence indescribably superior to our own, whose purposes all this nature serves, to whom it all is meaningful, by whom it was all designed.
Comments: This line of reasoning was roundly ~ and soundly criticized by David Hume, not in -Paley's exact words since his book was some twenty years later than Hume's, but in a sufficiently similar form.
Hume directs our attention to the fact that this is an argument by analogy to the existence of a certain kind of cause. All such arguments, he says, are based upon a dual principle: (a) similar effects proceed from similar causes and (b) similar causes produce similar effects. He is willing to grant the principle, for the sake of argument, but cautions that it can be used against the argument insofar as the effect we are concerned with (the observable universe) is similar to the effects of causes quite different from human intelligent ones.
Naturally, he observes the universe has the appearance of design; any universe would, because no great multiplicity of similar things could coexist without considerable adaptation. Of course, Paley would agree and would, however, add that this shows that no physical universe could originate without an intelligent designer since the "product" of any other source would never get going or would quickly destroy itself. But Hume calls attention to the Epicurean hypothesis that the universe originated with an infinite number of indestructible atoms falling in a vacuum, which atoms began to interact through chance and which, if given a long enough time will pass through all arrangements, thus exactly duplicating the history of our own universe. Perhaps, he says, that was the actual origin of our universe. Paley did not have the scientific knowledge we now have to show that there are and can be no "indestructible atoms" and that the Epicurean hypothesis has less merit than the design hypothesis. While the latter may appear to be somewhat improbable, the former is impossible (because of its incompatibility with the actual achievements of physical science).
But Hume did not rest his case upon a single alternative; he suggested that the universe could also be compared to a living being, an animal (as Plato suggested in his Timaeus), and therefore could be said to originate through generation from some other living being: the universe might have had parents! The world is as much unlike the product of intelligence as it is like such products, and therefore the conclusion of the argument is at best no more likely than its opposite. For it is merely a postulate, perhaps originating in our anthropomorphism, that those vast parts of the universe which we have not observed are orderly in the way the parts we have observed are. We know too little of the overall structure of the universe to draw a reliable analogy to intelligent artifacts.
Moreover, are we taking the principle "like effects are produced by like causes" to be necessarily true? What is absurd about denying that But if we take it only to be a general truth confirmed in our observation, how do we know that the universe as a whole is not the chief counter-instance which renders that principle false as a universal truth?
Further, an argument by analogy is never a deductively right argument; it is always an argument based upon likelihood. If we have adequately described the overall structure of the universe (something we can never know), then there is some probability (based upon the analogy) that it is intelligently designed: but there is no logical necessity that it has been so designed. It is not logically impossible that such a universe so described arose by chance; it is just "unlikely." '`The unlikely" often happens, but not most of the time.
Well, we need not go through the whole arsenal of devices used to attack this argument. It is certainly not a philosophical establishment of the existence of God. And yet, as we shall mention later, it is the line of reasoning which is most useful (of the various kinds of abstract reasoning) in the creation of "nonphilosophical" belief in the existence of God. We shall not debate the most reasonable reply Paley can offer: that he was not arguing by analogy but merely pointing out those features in biological nature which exactly parallel (but surpass) those very features we remark in human artifacts and without any question or suspicion of unreasonableness take as grounds for our belief that what we observe really is an object of intelligent design. In effect, if belief grounded on such recognized features of objects is a way to knowledge for most men most of the time, why is it not equally legitimate to use exactly parallel considerations to ground our belief in God, the cosmic designer?
The Moral Argument
Seldom articulated and then poorly, this line of reasoning is often mentioned and occasionally appealed to by apologists. It assumes that there are norms of right conduct, which are independent of human choice or convention, norms which unconditionally impose themselves upon those rational creatures that understand them. These moral laws seem to express an inexorable and entirely sovereign will, a source of command entirely independent of human thought and construction. We simply cannot construe these laws out of existence. What could
laws? Not human thought, for we would often change these laws if we could; not inanimate nature, for a rational imperative cannot be produced by unthinking things. The laws perdure while individuals perish. They bind the rational species through the individuals but are imposed inwardly, not through heredity or environment. No explanation of the existence of universal, eternal, inexorable moral laws can be excogitated unless it be that they are the result of the will of a sovereign and unlimited being. The laws exist; so must the sovereign legislator (We find this reasoning as early as St. Augustine; it appears in Kant; John H. Newman approved it; so have many more recent theologians.)
Comments: The three main assumptions of the argument are: (a) that universal, eternal and inexorable moral laws really do exist and exist independently of any individual's acknowledgment of them; (b) that there must be an explanation of the existence of such moral law; and (c) that the explanation of the existence of such laws cannot be found in inanimate nature, or anywhere in nature at the level of perishable, rational things.
Criticisms of these reasonings are by no means standard. But generally they take the form "How do you know that?" This is because it is somewhat doubtful that anyone really does know that there are universal, eternal and inexorable moral laws which bind all rational beings. Similar questions may be raised concerning the other two assumptions, particularly the assumption that there must be an explanation for the existence of these laws, if there are any. And at least in the case of the first assumption, some evidence can actually be cited to show that no specific moral law does bind everyone under all imaginable conditions. However, what of the law "Do what you believe to be required and avoid what you think to be forbidden"? Does this apply under all circumstances to everyone? Are there such moral laws as the arguments suppose? If you think there are, then in what do you think the explanation to such laws may legitimately be found? And if you do not think that an explanation for such laws may legitimately be found, why not?
The Modal Arguments
There is another group of arguments for the existence of God, ultimately stemming from St. Anselm, Richard of St. Victor and the Arabian philosopher Avicenna. The most sophisticated medieval proponent of these arguments is John Duns Scotus who lived in the late thirteenth century. As late as the eighteenth century, we find these views endorsed by Leibmz. Recently, Charles Hartshorne, an American, has offered very effective interpretations of St. Anselm's arguments on this model.ll ;
Basically, the procedure is to argue that "if God is possible, then God exists" ( as Leibniz actually said). An immense variety of these arguments is possible, and the technological detail of the more; careful ones is formidable. We shall consider a representative of the type quite informally, but fully aware that we may be ignoring its subtleties by treating it without the full-scale apparatus of for-< mal modal logic (the logic of "possibility" and "necessity"). The way the argument proceeds is to as to assume both that it is possible that God does exist; and that God in fact does not exist (as did Spinoza) and, then, by means of various analytic and necessary truths to derive the conclusion that it is not possible that God should exist. This by modus tollens is sufficient demonstration that if God is possible, God does exist. That God is possible ( that it is possible, i.e., consistent, that an omnipotent, eternal, good, omnipresent, omniscient, etc., being exists) is taken for granted as an initial premise. Consider the following simplified versions of this reasoning, which I have created by altering Spinoza's argument slightly.
1. It is possible that God should exist.
2. Assume that God does not exist.
3. It is either necessarily true or contingently true that God does not exist. (For whatever is true is true necessarily or contingently).
4. It cannot be contingently true that God does not exist, because:
a) For any contingent but actual state of affairs, it is logically possible that there exists or existed (or will exist or might have existed) some other state of affairs which would have caused it or prevented it.
b) But, it is not logically possible that there should be some state of affairs logically distinct from "God exists" which could have caused it or prevented it.
c) Therefore, if "God does not exist" is the actual state of affairs, it is not a contingent state of affairs.
. Therefore, it is necessarily true that God does not exist. (By disjunctive syllogism of 4c and 3; since by 3, if it is not contingently true, it must be necessarily true.
6. Therefore, "It is possible that God should exist" is not logically compatible with "God does not exist." For if the latter is true, it is true necessarily; and so too, with the former. But
"Necessarily God does not exist" is directly incomparable with "Possibly God does exist" since "possibly" means "not necessarily . . . not . . ."
7. Hence, lines 1 and 2 are incomparable. But line 1 is true; therefore the negation of 2 is true. Moreover, line 1 is necessarily true. Therefore the negation of 2 is necessarily true. Therefore God exists and exists necessarily.
Comments: Variations upon this form of argument are, at least in principle, endless. The heart of the whole process is in lines 3 to 5 in which it is first argued that the denial of the desired conclusion is either necessary or contingent, as all truths are supposed to be. Then the key step, in line 4a, is to introduce a general condition which holds for all contingent truths—which, however, cannot be fulfilled by the denial of the desired conclusion. We then displayed the incompatibility of the falsity of the conclusion with the premised (line) consistency of the conclusion we want.
The recipe is thus, in principle, quite simple. The form is logically impeccable and it is only a matter of strategy to select a proper premise—e.g., 4a, which will place a condition upon contingency which cannot be satisfied either by the proposition "God exists" or by the proposition "God does not exist."
If we had, as does Spinoza, insisted that every contingent but actual state of affairs must actuaI1 have an explanation or sufficient reason, we would be confronted with a premise we cannot prove and for which we cannot imagine a single reason which will not beg the question against our conclusion.
But instead of the Principle of Sufficient Reason these modal arguments use what I call the Principle of Hetero-explicability, the principle that for any given contingent state of affairs p, which is not equivalent to the totality of contingent and actual states of affairs, it is logically possible that there be some other contingent state of affairs, q, such that q is related to p as that which causes p to be so or as that which prevents p from being so. A brief examination of our ordinary discourse and of a scientific discourse, too, will disclose that any proposition which we are willing to call logically contingent expresses a state of affairs which we can readily see to be causable or preventable, at least in principle. Hence, the Principle of Hetero-explicability is the more plausible premise from which to begin arguments for the existence of God. It does not commit one to claiming that there is an explanation for every state of affairs. It does not commit one to saying that for any given state of affairs at any given time there actually is an explanation. It merely claims that it is logically possible that any given contingent state of affairs (which is not equivalent to the totality of such states of affairs) has an explanation. There seems to be no reason to doubt this principle. Can you think of a case where it would not hold P a consistent case?
We cannot evaluate all the criticisms and replies which are relevant to these Modal arguments, but we shall mention two: (a) the attempt to reject line 4a, or the Principle of Hetero-explicability by citing a counter-example such as "an uncausable and unpreventable man" and (b) the Kantian objection that an unconditional necessity of thought need not constitute the unconditional necessity of things. To give such counter-examples is to beg the entire question and to complicate things further by raising doubts as to whether it really is consistent that there should exist an uncausable and unpreventable man. For it may well be that on analysis we shall find that the very nature of what a man is requires the producibility and preventability of each individual, and therefore to say "It is possible that there is an unproducible and unpreventable man" is explicitly to contradict yourself. For example, could some rational animal be such that it would be inconsistent to say it was generated from animal parents? How?
However, the whole matter is further complicated by our wondering whether there is any relation between the momentary qualities of a thing (for example its appearing blue to you) and its dispositions, its modal properties, its being blue. To say something is really red is to say something not only about its present, its past, and its future, but, furthermore, to say something about how it would have been had it been otherwise and about how it must have behaved had it been affected in certain ways. Dispositional properties involve modal properties; and surely, uncausability and unpreventability are not "first level" modal properties, but are derived from other modal properties which in turn are exhibited in dispositions which in their turn are recognized through momentary qualities.
As you can see then, whether there can be modal properties and what kinds of modal properties are appropriate to what sorts of things is a very complex matter. The really interesting parts of the philosophy of religion are those places where we have been catapulted beyond our narrow interests into the basic issues of theory of knowledge, metaphysics, logic, or ethics; in this case it is metaphysics which becomes crucial. Do not lightly believe that nothing can have modal properties, such as uncausability and unpreventability, which are taken to be characteristics of God, for a resourceful philosopher can show you with great alacrity that modal properties are involved in every dispositional predicate (like hardness, ductility, malleability, etc. ) and that the logic or the philosophy which cannot take account of these matters is to that extent, at least, inadequate.
The student who is familiar with Goodman's analysis of "projectibility" in Fact, Fiction and Forecast and with the whole development of discussion concerning counterfactual conditionals (from C. I. Lewis through recent work by Von Wright) will at once observe that even the simplest "physical object" predicates involve logical modalities in their analysis.
In answer specifically to the objection that the same form of argument and the same fourth premise can be used to prove the existence of an uncausable and unpreventable man, provided we assume that such a man is possiblc in answer to this objection, we reply: if the premise that an uncausable and unpreventable man is logically consistent, then this form of argument does indeed show that such a man exists. The very fact that the argument shows that such a man exists, suggests that there has been some mistake in conjoining the attributes of unpreventability and humanity. It suggests that, at least as strongly as it impugns the Modal Argument; hence, we must settle that point before we know what to say against the original argument.
In my opinion, the Modal Argument is the most versatile of the proofs for the existence of God. It encourages you to decide just what distinguishes God's existence from the existence of those things which are capable of both being and not-being. It asks you to find the quality of those things, which are able, both to exist and not-to-exist, by which they have that double capacity, and to see whether that quality is ruled out by our conception of God. If it is, then God must, as Anselm, Maimonides, Aquinas, Scotus, Occasion, Leibniz, and Descartes thought, be among those things which can be but cannot not-be. Does it make sense to say "God is a necessary being"? Yes; for it means "God is of such a sort that it is consistent to say 'God exists' but inconsistent to say 'God does not exist.'" That this statement is true is what the Modal Argument purports to show.
Conclusion: Too many philosophers, writing introductory texts, treat the arguments for the existence of God as if they have little to offer the student. They adopt a patronizing, rational agnosticism, apparently equally criticaI of all the arguments for the existence of God and all those against, an attitude which leads the student to expect little from the whole process of argumentation because he is, in effect, told that at the end of some two thousand years of dispute neither side has made progress.
This is why I have concluded with Spinoza's argument and its transformation into a Modal Argument. The case against these arguments is not at all as clear and decisive as you may be led to believe. Furthermore, there is a great deal to be said in behalf of (as well as against) the classical arguments, even of those of St. Thomas and St. Anselm. But if the student is supposed to decide for or against the existence of God on the basis of these arguments, as they are presented in his introductory text; and if he does not decide for, the arguments are to be considered defective, then what chance do the arguments have P You know very we that a soon as you say you are convinced, someone much more skilled in philosophy than you will call your attention to questions you cannot answer about the premises with the implication that you couldn't have known the premises are true. What then? Will you not conclude that you did not know the premises were true and therefore that you do not see the arguments are sound? In fact, in the confident expectation of such moves and countermoves by those better skilled in philosophy, can you even begin to look at these arguments objectively?
Does the fact that you encountered questions which you could not answer about a given premise or objections to which you find no reply show that you did not know that those premises were true? Not at alll but it may show that you no longer know the premises are true. Surely we cannot require that for Jones to know that it is raining he must be able to answer every relevant question about his belief and every objection against his belief No one could know anything at all. But of course if the questions and objections which you encounter make your belief in your premise waver, then you will have traded, at least in some cases, knowledge for doubt. This is the hazard of education, that some who had few doubts and some truths should work diligently (but not creatively) for several years and finish with many doubts and proportionately fewer truths.
The classical arguments for the existence of God are supposed to carry their conviction in the context of abstract theory, and not in their effect for religious commitment. We know that the premises of any given argument are infinitely analyzable, that they can be subjected to an series of questions and that every question can be answered in more than one way. We cannot expect a person to have gone to the end of an untraversable road in order to have knowledge. Therefore we must grant that that person might, without knowing the answers to various objections to these arguments, and provided these objections do in fact have satisfactory answers, know that the arguments are sound.
The theoretical case for the existence of God is in the very best of health, with new ideas being produced regularly. There is no need to adopt a patronizing agnosticism which says you cannot find out whether or not God exists by means of an argument. You need only say, "We philosophers have not established yet whether God exists, nor have even settled the conditions such arguments must satisfy; yet our attacks upon the matter show definite progress." Isn't this true of every important; point in philosophy?
A philosophical problem often has this peculiarity: at any given stage of discussion there are certain known difficulties which any decent answer must meet; but, it is such that each answer which meets the then known difficulties discloses further difficulties which were not seriously anticipated and could not reasonably be foreseen. Hence, it is possible to make continuous progress on such problems without ever reaching a decisive, debate-closing conclusion.
The Psycho-Sociological Objection
The objections to belief in the existence of God which are based upon psychological, anthropological, and sociological theories as to the origin and $unction o$ such beliefs are not as important nowadays as they were a few decades ago. Then they were combined with the belief that all theoretical arguments for the existence of God were irreparably defective, and that no one could have an, good reason for thinking that food really did exist So it was suggested, there is no good reason either from theory or from experience for believing in that existence of God, and every good reason to show that belief in God arose from nonevidential sources Further, the account of the origin of religious belief offered by these theories disclosed that they were considered to be complete and to exhibit no nee for us to postulate an actual deity; hence, the conclusions of the theoretical arguments were though to be rendered additionally improbable by their being empirically superfluous.
In very general terms, the psycho-sociological theories combine to suggest that out of the complex interplay of individuals and society there develops a tendency of the individual to project human qualities on the large scale. In fact, one might say that what renders man human (exhibits his highest rational qualities ) is his projection of all he considers worthwhile upon a plane unlimited—namely, his belief in the existence of an all-powerful, intelligent, good and benevolent God. The theories as to the origins of religious belief are therefore not trying to belittle man for imagining God. They gladly admit the nobility of the conception; they merely suggest that this projection does not arise out of an experience with God but rather arises in another way: through the experience of the embracing society, which is ideated as a projection. The basic experiences associated with religion are awe, wonder, and the sense of the presence of the holy, the feeling of unconditional moral obligation. A11 can be accounted for in one's experience of the society in which one lives.
We need not trace this or the various anthropological theories out in detail because they all exhibit the same structure and are subjected to criticism in the same way. First, one naturally asks whether the theory in question really does explain the origin of religion as a social institution. Does it really provide a plausible account of the facts we recognize? For example, does it fully explain the fact that religious belief is often the main support of conscience when an individual is moved to act against his society? The theory which identifies a society as whatever reality underlies a man's conception of God cannot account for the fact that the prophets who act against the trend of society are paradigm cases of those who claim the support of God. Again, the religious person is often the same as the person who feels a very strong commitment to mankind as a whole, for every individual regardless of his local society: he feels these obligations and acts on them even when the entire interest and pressure of the society which nurtured him opposes. How can the God which sanctions his acts be the same reality as the society which opposes them? Perhaps the theories can, by suitable additions, account for these facts and do so without postulating any really existing divine being. Perhaps—then they should be made to and we should look inquisitively at the additions by which the account is to be completed.
Secondly, even if such theories do accommodate the facts, does this mean that they exclude justified and true belief in the reality of God? Does this mean that they constitute an exclusive explanation of the origin of religious belief? Not at all. Any given set of empirical facts is such that there is always, in principle, an infinite number of differing theories according to which their existence can be explained. Hence, even if God does not exist, man would according to the psycho-sociological theories have his belief in God. But this lends no probability whatever to the hypothesis that God does not exist, it merely lays the ax to the argument that we must postulate the real existence of God in order to account for man's having religious feelings.
Well, what about the fact that the hypothesis that God exists is (or may be) empirically unnecessary? Nothing about it. Perhaps God is "retiring." The mere fact that there should be no empirical state of affairs concerned with religion which we can authenticate and which cannot be explained apart from the supposition that God really exists, may render the existence of God unnecessary as part of the hypothesis for the origin of those beliefs, but it lends no probability whatever to the hypothesis that God does not exist. There is no reason why the existence of God should be a necessary element in any empirical theory. The elements of the world of personal experience may be so beautifully interrelated that for each element there are other elements conditioned to supply a suitable explanation. This is to be expected in the product of a perfect designer.
The same remarks apply to the ingenious hypothesis of Sigmund Freud as to the psychological progress by which religious belief originates. It may very well be that the forces of nature and of the human mind determine that certain individuals have religious belief. Does that mean that such beliefs cannot be true or cannot be knowledge?
The mere fact that I would have a certain belief even if it were not true in no way precludes or renders it improbable that it is true, though it does indicate that the fact that I have a belief in no way makes it more likely that it is true than it would be if I did not have such a belief.
I am not suggesting that Freud actually succeeded in accounting for the origin of religious belief, though his work is fertile with insight, but I do suggest that even if he had succeeded this would have no important bearing upon the question of whether the belief is true or false. To infer from the ignoble or irrational origin of belief to its falsity or improbability is to commit the psychogenetic fallacy, the fallacy of assuming that just because we can account (in a nonevidential way) for someone's having a certain belief, his belief is less likely to be true. If anything, just the opposite is more likely, given the fact that on the whole what people believe about the world is true.
The Paradoxical Insufficiency of God
Of all those metaphysicians who took pains to offer proofs for the existence of God, the systematic motivating force was not primarily a desire to befriend or support religion. Rather, they were particularly desirous of discovering a plausible answer to the question "Why is there something rather than nothing at all?" Their interests were theoretical, metaphysical ones, at least as much as they were practical religious ones.
As early as Avicenna it became evident that those things which are by nature (in virtue of what they are) capable both of being and of not-being (as must be everything which begins to exist or ceases to exist) are not such that they in themselves account for their own being. If a thing ac counts for its own existing by virtue of what sort of thing it is, then it would not be possible for it not-to-be, since in order for it not to be it would have to cease to be of the sort that it is. In other words, if Socrates were of such a sort (e.g., human) that he existed because of that he was, then in order not to exist he would have to become nonhuman—and this is impossible because Socrates, whether existing or not is, by nature, a human.
If those things which are capable both of being and of not-being are incapable of accounting for their own existence, then if any accounting of the being of such things can be found, it must be found ultimately in something which is not capable both of being and of not-being. (A point St. Anselm made very clear in his second version).
Next, one asserts: it is possible that there is an accounting for the being of everything which exists that is capable both of being and of not-being. If it is possible that there is such an accounting, it must be found in what is incapable of not being (that is, in something which exists necessarily). Hence, if it is possible that there is such an accounting, then it must be possible that something exists necessarily.
But if it is possible that something exists necessarily, it must be actually the case that something exists necessarily. Why? Because whatever is possible-to-be would exist either contingently or necessarily. Whatever does not exist actually but is possible to be, must exist contingently, if at all. No necessary being can be both possible and not actually existing (for then it would be contingent). But every necessary being is possible. Therefore, every necessary being is actual. Hence as Leibniz, Scotus, and Avicenna saw, from the possibility of a necessary being, its actual or real existence follows logically. Therefore, each and every necessary being actually exists.
This, I hope, looks like a formidable argument for the existence of the being which is God. Further, I hope that it makes clear the ancient objective of the philosophers, which was to discover the ultimate accounting for the existence of what there is. Yet, as Spinoza made evident, there are only two ways in which God could both account for the world and produce it. In the one case God produces the world necessarily and by nature (as Spinoza proposed in his own system). In the other, God produces the world through causal agency which is brought into action through His free choice.
In the first case, the being of God would fully account for the world, but at the cost of conflict with our experience. If God exists necessarily and produces the world necessarily, then things could not have been otherwise than the way they are. This certainly conflicts with the fairly widespread conviction among humans that things could have been different (or perhaps should have been). Moreover, this concept of God requires one to abandon the central Judaic-Christian conception of God as a free and benevolent agent who creates because of His goodness. Spinoza's theory about the relation of God to the world leaves God insufficient to preserve our conviction that not everything that happens happens necessarily and leaves God insufficient to act in the way the religious tradition has hypothesized. Thus, according to Spinoza's theory, the very being of God is both necessary and sufficient for the being of everything else; the resulting pantheism and absolute determinism of all things (which does away with free will both of man and of God and makes it most difficult to error and moral responsibility) is incompatible with the way in which the Judaic-Christian tradition assumes that God entirely transcends the natural world in His being and is present eminently in acts of His will and love. In the second case, God is thought to produce the world (a set of contingent beings) through causal agency exercised with free choice. The difficulties with this hypothesis are of two sorts, both of which are baffling. Why did God create a world He did not need? And what is the relation between God and what He created?
We shall devote only two paragraphs to the paradox of the divine motivation. From ancient times it has been said that God created the world because it is good," "because He is good and chooses to confer being upon other things," "because He wishes to manifest His glory." Granting that these are reasons good enough to explain why God would create something rather than not create at all, they are not at all sufficient to explain why God would create this universe rather than any one of an infinite number of alternatives which lay within His power. Surely, this is not the "best possible world," as Leibniz romantically imagined. An all-powerful and omniscient being could surely surpass this handiwork (which Hume compared to the first bungling attempt of an infant deity who abandoned it to undertake a more mature product later on). St. Thomas Aquinas contended that for any world God could make, He could make another at least as good (and, hence, rejected Leibniz' proposal four hundred years before the enlightened savant ever imagined it). Nor is this the only possible world. Yet it seems that every reason one could imagine which could sufficiently explain why God created this world rather than any other leads to the consequence that He could not have created any other—that this is the only possible world. You would do well to try your own hand at constructing such explanations, keeping a sharp eye for the vicious regress I shall now describe.
Suppose there was a reason which God had in creating this universe rather than any other (even though we cannot think of what it was). He could not have had this reason by nature, in virtue of that He is; for then He must have followed His reason and could not have failed to create this world (a consequence we wish to avoid). So He must have chosen His reason. But He either chose His reason for some reason or He did not. If He did not, He either has His reason (for choosing His reason for acting) by nature, or came upon it by chance. If He has His reason by nature. He must have "chosen" the particular reason for acting that He did choose then again this is the only possible world.
But if He came upon His reason by chance, neither having chosen the former reason nor having it committed to Him by His nature, then it is evident that the world exists by chance and there is no sufficient explanation of its existence.
On the other hand, if God chose His reason for choosing His reason to act, then either He had a reason for that or He did it by nature or came upon it by chance. If He did it by nature, this is the only possible world. If He did it by chance, there is no sufficient reason for the world.
The result, as you can see now, is that God either chose an infinite number of reasons forreasons-for-choosing-according-to-a-certain-reason, or He acted randomly, or He acted necessarily. We have premised, having rejected Spinoza, that we will not consider the hypothesis under which God acted necessarily because this requires that all false statements be considered inconsistent. Therefore,
He either acted randomly or according to an infinite number of reasons. In the latter case, if God acted randomly, the being of the world is ultimately unexplained. In the former case, God has to make an infinite number of choices in order to make any choice at all. The result is that a choice precedes every particular reason and ultimately some choice is unaccounted for.
Thus, by asking what God's reasons might have been, through which he selected only one of an infinite number of possibilities, we are apparently led to the conclusion that He could not have created the world according to a reason which He freely chose if it be true that whatever happens is actually accounted for. Does it follow that the world must have come about the way Spinoza imagined it, or that it must have come about by chance, or perhaps, that the hypothesis that there is a necessarily existing Creator is by no means sufficient to account for the being of the world?
The second set of difficulties faced by the JudaicChristian belief that God freely chose the world is concerned with the relation of God to the world and is closely connected to the points just sketched. Is God really a sufficient explanation for the being of the universe? In a sense, yes; and in a sense, no.
The existing of God is not sufficient for tbe existence of the created world; otherwise, we would fall into Spinoza's pantheism. In addition to being, God must choose that the finite world should exist—this is absolutely essential to the Judaic-Christian tradition. Hence, the existing of God is a necessary, but not a sufficient condition for the created world. Something else is needed: God's choice that there be such a world. Thus, the sufficient explanation for the being of a finite world is to be sought in -God, not in the mere being of God but in God's being and free choice. These two cannot be logically identical without our again encountering the paradoxical result that this world could be the only possible universe.
Now if we assume that God really did surmount the above reasoning concerning His reasons for creating, then there is to be found in God's being and choice a sufficient explanation for the being of the world of finite things. God, who necessarily exists and is both omniscient and omnipotent, chose that such things should exist. Fine.
But, suppose we pursue the inquiry in another way, in the way in which metaphysicians have usually conceived it, as a search for the sufficient reason for the actuality, not of finite things alone, but of all contingent states of affairs which are actual. Within the universe so described, in addition to the contingent but actual state of affairs constituted by your existence and my existence, there will be included God's choice that such things be actual. For it is an essential element of Judaic-Christian tradition that God's choice was free—and therefore that it is logically contingent that God chose as He did and not otherwise. Hence, the fact that God chose as He did must be included within the set of contingent states of affairs for which a sufficient reason or explanation is required.
Since we have granted that, given God's choice, if the other states of affairs be actual, we have an explanation for their having occurred, we have only one element of the contingent universe for which we still need a sufficient reason or explanation: namely, that God chose as He did. What could be the sufficient explanation or reason for that? It could be found in only one of two places, the divine nature which would compel God to choose as He does, or in the divine will which would not. In fact, the state of affairs which would account for God's choosing as He does will be describable either in a necessary proposition or a contingent proposition. If it is describable in a contingent proposition, then it will itself be in need of an explanation. If it is describable in terms of a necessary proposition, then it appears that God's choice could not have been free.
The explanation for God's choosing as He does cannot be found in the divine nature for that would destroy the freedom of God's choice, commit us to Spinoza's pantheism and require that this be the only possible world. Therefore, the explanation must be sought in the divine will which acts freely according to reasons freely selected. This will is a power or disposition. It cannot by its very nature produce a choice or we will again fall into Spinoza's view. Therefore, it must proceed by way of selecting reasons. But each of these selections of reasons will in itself be a contingent actuality and will itself demand a sufficient reason, a prior choice. Unless God has a reason for every reason He has, there is some divine choice for which there is no sufficient reason. In fact, if God's having the reasons He has (for every reason He has) is a contingent state of affairs, then there cannot be a sufficient reason for every contingent state of affairs. For all that is left over are necessary states of affairs. And the necessary cannot be the sufficient reason for the actuality of the contingent, since that would destroy the contingency of the contingent. Therefore, while it is possible that for any given contingent state of affairs (which is not equivalent to every contingent state of affairs) there may be or may have been a sufficient reason, it is impossible that there be a sufficient reason for every contingent state of affairs. Hence, the strong version of the Principle of Sufficient Reason is false and, incompatible with the Christian's conception of God's freedom. (How does this conclusion affect St. Thomas' and Spinoza's arguments for the existence of God?)
Paradoxically, we cannot find in God the (actual) sufficient reason for every contingent state of affairs. However well we may explain the being of the universe of finite things, there must always remain in principle and in need of explanation, at least one thing: God's having chosen to create the world. And this remains unaccounted-for not because it is mysterious and surpasses the comprehension of man, as Calvin and many other theologians contended, but because the Principle of Sufficient Reason is false.
Some persons conclude from this that the ancient enterprise of seeking in God (a necessarily existing being) the sufficient reason, explanation, or accounting for the actuality of the contingent universe was an enterprise hopeless and misguided right from the outset. Others point out that these writers should never have employed the "strong" Principles of Sufficient Reason (which yielded the conclusion that there exists a necessary being); they could have attained that same conclusion by starting with a weaker premise. For example, what we have called the Principle of Hetero-explicability which does not require an explanation for every ( that is, the entirety taken together) contingent state of affairs to be possible, but only that an explanation be possible of any given contingent state of affairs which is not equivalent to the totality of the contingent and actual. You must make your assessment of the ancient enterprise and its modern variation here and in the Modal Argument. But however you assess it, you cannot deny that it is philosophically productive and resulted in the disclosure of the paradoxical but not absurd insufficiency of the being of God to account for the actuality of what is contingent and actual. I
Having devoted considerable attention to the important philosophical and theological theories which are related to the attempt to establish the existence of God, we shall now turn to the examination of nonphilosophical, nontheoretical knowledge of God.
CHAPTER II
We are concerned here with the philosophical examination of the nature of faith and reason and the relations of faith and knowledge. In particular we want to ask whether there is any peculiarity about the relation between religious experience and the resulting faith of religious believers which has definitively separated such experience from the rest of our empirical knowledge.
At no point will we assume that all or even most religious believers would claim to have had religious experiences sufficiently elaborate to justify them in holding their beliefs. We will assume, however, that all, were they to understand the implications of denying it, would say that the humans ( e.g., prophets and apostles) chiefly involved in originating the content of their religion did have I religious experiences through which they discovered the truths to be proclaimed.
We need not presume that religious humans in significant numbers have "found out for themselves" that any of their religious beliefs are true, in any sense other than that (a ) they have found their beliefs a helpful guide to the conduct of a worthwhile life and (b) they have found their beliefs to be useful in constructing a coherent view of the explanation for things.
"Having-found-out-for-oneself' is quite distinct from "having-taken-it-on-faith" or "having-taken someone's-word-for-it." Discovering as a result of a disciplined and recognizably theoretical investigation that something or another is so is a ca