Today I'm Learning About...

[tinyblueponies-blog]

Hello I wonder If you have copy of this book: The Myth of Persecution: How Early Christians Invented a Story of Martyrdom?

I do not. I have heard an interview with the author, who is herself a Christian, and the history of it is fascinating. I intend to read the book when I get the chance.

[rcsolstice]

The notion that an omnipotent God needs to commit a necessary evil to achieve a greater good still baffles me. If this is true, then wouldn’t potent be a more appropriated adjective to describe God? 

[academicatheism]

Utilitarian Command Theory

To be clear, I do not endorse what ensues as an ethical theory.  What this theory is meant to do is reduce Divine Command Theory to absurdity.  In order to reduce a statement or argument to absurdity, one must show that an absurd result follows from its acceptance.

Before proceeding, however, another item requires explanation—namely the term utilitarian.  Why have I chosen to borrow this term?  To answer this, a familiarity with utilitarianism is necessary.  Utilitarianism is a form of act consequentialism.  According to the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, act consequentialism “is the claim that an act is morally right if and only if that act maximizes the good, that is, if and only if the total amount of good for all minus the total amount of bad for all is greater than this net amount for any incompatible act available to the agent on that occasion.”1 Since the definition implies a sort of quantification, it is apt to continue with that line of thinking.  Prior to doing that, however, I need to borrow from Thomas Hobbes’ Voluntarism.  Voluntarists maintain that obligation requires a voluntary subjection to law’s rule.2  What is of particular interest is what he had to say about the sovereign.

The Sovereign of a Common-wealth, be it an assembly, or one man, is not subject to the civil laws.  For having power to make, and repeal laws, he may when he pleaseth, free himself from that subjection, by repealing those laws that trouble him, and making of new; and consequently he was free before.  For he is free, that can be free when he will: Nor is it possible for any person to be bound to himself, because he that can bind, can release; and therefore he that is bound to himself only, is not bound.3

This argument says:

The sovereign makes the law.

So The sovereign can unmake the law.

So The sovereign is not bound by the law that he makes.

Hobbes claims that, when the citizen violates the law, he contradicts his own will: he, in the person of the sovereign, made the law, and therefore cannot without absurdity violate it.  Yet it is precisely because the sovereign makes the law that he is not bound by it: according to Hobbes, it is conceptually impossible for him to violate it.

Korsgaard, Christine M., and Onora Neill.The Sources of Normativity, p. 169. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. Print.

With this in mind, recall the quantification I alluded to.  Utilitarianism states, to put it simply, that the good must be greater than the bad.  If we accept, as Hobbes maintained, that we represent the sovereign via a voluntary subjection to the law, then we can decide, based on that, that we have the authority to legislate acts that meet the utilitarian requirement of good outweighing bad.  That is to say, that if we render an act greater in good than in bad, then as sovereigns, we can legislate that act—even if the act is usually considered bad.  Let us consider some scenarios before reducing Divine Command Theory to absurdity.

Remember that you are the sovereign.  Thus, you make the law, unmake the law, and are not bound by the law.  Under your law, children are never to be harmed.  However, you find yourself in a situation which may require you to harm a child; and not simply harm the child, but kill the child.  This child has contracted a contagious illness that is currently unknown to doctors.  It becomes obvious to you that killing the child will save other people from contracting the illness.  In this case, you find that the good outweighs the bad.  Given this quantification, you then kill the child since you are not bound by the law.  One may argue that quarantine is another route to take.  However, when taking that into consideration, the sovereign thought of the dangers that would be present.  Doctors would still have to monitor the child.  They would still make attempts to understand the illness.  Nurses would have to look after the child.  The child’s family members would surely demand visits regardless of the risk of infection.  All of this can lead to an epidemic and thus, is less preferable than simply killing the child.  Let’s consider another case.

Again, you are the sovereign.  Under your law, women are never to be raped.  Unfortunately, you find that rampant infertility is threatening the propagation of your people.  However, you know a woman who isn’t infertile.  The issue is that she is unwilling to grant sexual consent because she doesn’t love any of the men among your people.  All things considered, you decide that she must be raped so that she may possibly give birth to a child.  Therefore, you unmake your law and command someone you trust to rape her.  One may contend that the sovereign can simply influence her to love one of the men among the people.  However, the sovereign has rendered this option inefficient; in other words, this route runs the risk of taking too long.  The sovereign, therefore, chooses the more efficient option.

Given these two examples, one might conclude that it is absurd to accept the conclusions of Utilitarian Command Theory given the results that follow from it.  It may be that the good is greater than the bad, but one may become unsettled by the fact that laws are being unmade or that we, as sovereigns, aren’t bound to our own legislation.  This is precisely the issue with Divine Command Theory.  It also suffers from another fatal issue.

Divine Command Theory, to put it simply, states that a “morally right action is the one that God commands or requires.”4  However, according to certain verses in the Bible (i.e. Numbers 31:7-19, Deuteronomy 2:33-35, Joshua 10:33, Judges 5:30, 1 Samuel 15:3, Hosea 13:16), what he required or commanded was simply bad.  It follows, that as theological sovereign, he either unmade his law or wasn’t bound by it.  Also, the fatal issue with Divine Command Theory is that, unlike Utilitarian Command Theory, the good doesn’t outweigh the bad.  Therefore, if one is bothered by the edicts that follow from Utilitarian Command Theory, one must be bothered by the edicts that issue from Divine Command Theory.  In other words, if an edict isn’t acceptable even when the good outweighs the bad, then an edict isn’t acceptable when the good doesn’t outweigh the bad.  And in some of these cases, the bad outweighs the good; or, there’s no good to be had.  Therefore, it is absurd to accept a conclusion that states that Yahweh can issue edicts though they contradict his legislation.  The alternative is that if anyone accepts Divine Command Theory, regardless of the fact that in most cases the bad outweighed the good or there was no good to be had, one must accept Utilitarian Command Theory because it, at the very least, boasts the advantage of quantifying good versus bad and ascertaining, via the use of reason, that the good outweighs the bad.  Though Utilitarian Command Theory is naturalistic rather than theistic, one must, with great alacrity, accept it given that one accepts Divine Command Theory.  However, if one finds that the conclusions of Utilitarian Command Theory are absurd, it would be inconsistent to not say the same of Divine Command Theory.

Briefly, in anticipation of a possible contention, the belief that Yahweh is perfectly good doesn’t play a factor.  A utilitarian idea can be invoked to quell this contention.  That idea is that the Utilitarian Command Theorist can assert or even demonstrate that the good in human nature outweighs the bad in human nature.  Thus, though a human isn’t perfectly good, she is sufficiently good to issue such commands.  Thus, what proceeds from her nature is a morally right action.  This is to say that perfect good isn’t required; sufficient good is required.  I would argue that the Utilitarian Command Theorist is correct in that assessment; thus, the notion of sufficient good in human nature is enough to quell the contention.

Notes

1 http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/consequentialism/

2 http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/legal-obligation/

3 Thomas Hobbies, Leviathan pp. 367, 313

4 http://www.iep.utm.edu/divine-c/

[tinyblueponies-blog]

The Uncomfortable Grayness of Life - Nate Phelps - The Sexy Secular Conference

For more information, please visit: Natephelps.com This talk was part of the Sexy Secular Conference, which was hosted by The Secular Student Alliance at The...

[divineirony]

Why are you so convinced God doesn't exist?

Well frankly, because there’s never been a single coherent concept of a god; one that doesn’t rely on blatantly fallacious reasoning, plain ignorance (natural or willful), or common wishful thinking; one that doesn’t just seem so contrived.

Sure you could just throw the vague term “God” out there (many do) but as soon as you attempt to define it enough to convince someone it’s a real thing, you will slip in bullshit. The whole venture (faith and apologetics) operates somewhere between pretending to know things you can’t know and avoiding knowing things you could.

Compare that to the vastly superior and convergent explanatory power of, and evidentiary support for, Metaphysical Naturalism, and the whole supernatural thing just seems so utterly archaic and fantastical.

Like a kid slowly discovering the truth about Santa Claus: it starts with nagging suspicions when things don’t add up, that gets covered with reinterpretations of the things you know about him (denial) with parental encouragement (theologians), then you learn too much about nature (reindeer don’t fly) to make it plausible anymore, and finally you find out that it’s centuries long parental conspiracy tradition co-opted by department stores. After that there’s really no going back, short of taking a ride in a flying sleigh to an elven toy factory at the North Pole. Atheism, for me, is a quotient of diving the value I place on explanatory evidence and truth by that of tradition and emotions.

Maybe I should ask you, why are you convinced that there is one?

[teachthemhowtothink-deactivated]

Beautiful.

[academicatheism]

Outside Corroboration and the Eruption of Mount Vesuvius

A bizarre slogan that is making the rounds in Christian apologetics is to claim that there is no outside corroboration for Pliny’s account of the eruption of Mount Vesuvius nor any mention in ancient literature of the destruction of Pompeii and Herculaneum until centuries later. Apologists make this claim to retort to the observation that many of the extraordinary events in the Gospels (e.g. the three hour darkness at Jesus’ crucifixion, Herod’s slaughter of the infants in Bethlehem, etc.) have no contemporary outside corroboration. I say that this slogan is “bizarre,” since (obviously) we have located the volcano, unearthed the cities, and proved that Pliny’s account is accurate. But I suppose what the apologists are attempting to do is to create a reductio ad absurdum of the historical criterion of outside corroboration by arguing that, despite Vesuvius being a massive event that killed thousands of people, only Pliny writes about it.

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[thedragoninmygarage]

If God wants something from me, he would tell me. He wouldn’t leave someone else to do this, as if an infinite being were short on time. And he would certainly not leave fallible, sinful humans to deliver an endless plethora of confused and contradictory messages. God would deliver the message himself, directly, to each and every one of us, and with such clarity as the most brilliant being in the universe could accomplish. We would all hear him out and shout “Eureka!” So obvious and well-demonstrated would his message be. It would be spoken to each of us in exactly those terms we would understand. And we would all agree on what that message was.

Richard Carrier Why I Am Not a Christian: Four Conclusive Reasons to Reject the Faith

(via thedragoninmygarage)

[gayheathen]

I feel like you have such a negative opinion for anyone who refers to themselves as a Christian. It's as if you are putting all Christians beneath you because they have a different belief. I can only hope that you understand that not all Christians are the terrible bigoted assholes that the media makes them out to be. I'm a PK, too, but I guess my parents must be more liberal than most Christian families.

Unfortunately, Christians do a great job at pissing people off without the media’s help. With that said, I don’t view Christians as inferior to me. Nave have, never will. I was one. I know what it’s like to be a Christian. Heck, guess where I was this morning? An Evangelical church of all places. Yesterday, I attended a Catholic mass. I’m so judgmental.

Sure, I’m an atheist. But me being utterly disappointed in today’s Christianity, it’s views, it’s political agenda, and disbelieving it’s many non-empirical claims is not “putting all Christians beneath” me. And YES. I know not all Christians are like that. But liberal Christians are the exception to the rule. Don’t waste your time coming to me and defending your faith. That’s not going to change anything. Tell the Christians fighting against my rights to shut the fuck up. Tell the creationists to quit trying to push their agenda in science classrooms. Fight patriarchy in the form of religious dogma.

Why haven’t you asked me why I’m pissed off? I don’t think you care. If you’re not part of the problem, at least be a part of the solution.

[skepticalavenger]

There is a long, historical line of humans who have faith that at the beginning of the line there was actually a god.

[confrontingbabble-on]

With the widespread dissemination of verifiable knowledge based education…the rise of atheism…is inevitable…

[teethequoter]

Some people have views of God that are so broad and flexible that it is inevitable that they will find God wherever they look for him. One hears it said that ‘God is the ultimate’ or ‘God is our better nature’ or ‘God is the universe’. Of course, like any other word, the word ‘God’ can be given any meaning we like. If you want to say that ‘God is energy,’ then you can find God in a lump of coal.

Steven Weinberg, Dreams of a Final Theory

(via teethequoter)

[academicatheism]

Are there really 100,000 new Christian martyrs every year?

It’s often claimed that 100,000 Christians are killed every year because of their religion. Earlier this year, the Vatican called it a credible number. But is it?

Gunmen on motorcycles kill three people when they open fire on a wedding outside a Coptic Christian church in Cairo. A twin-suicide bombing outside a church in Pakistan kills at least 75 people.

These two recent headline-grabbing attacks occurred within just a month of each other. Horrific, but by no means isolated incidents.

So how widespread is anti-Christian violence?

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[christiannightmarestoo]

How a Christian boy lost his faith on a warm summer day in Northern Ireland

I lost my Christian faith on 15 August, 1998, in the village of Omagh in County Tyrone around 3:00pm.

It was one of those summer days where you could be glad to be a 10-year-old. Sunny and warm, a rarity in Ireland where we get clouds and rain nearly every morning. I was celebrating my recent progression to open champion in Irish dance, the highest level achievable. It was only three weeks till my 11th birthday and my mate Johnny, also a competitive Irish dancer, invited me to his home for the weekend. My grandparents were nervous about it at first. It wasn’t as though I was camping out with one of my cousins across the county. Omagh was nearly an hour away. In addition, it was in Northern Ireland, and my grandparents had lived three decades in the shadow of the Troubles. But after much begging and cajoling, and with my grandfather’s reminder that Omagh had been virtually untouched by the violence, my grandmother finally relented.

That Saturday, Johnny and I insisted on being allowed to go to the town centre unaccompanied. Market Street was a popular tourist destination and we wanted to see the sights and play with the lads. Naturally, Johnny’s parents refused our perfectly reasonable request. But after much begging and cajoling (a skill we had perfected down to an art form) they agreed and let us go, provided that Johnny’s 14-year-old sister Maeve accompanied us.

It was every lad’s dream. We played tag and pop-around-the-barrel with a group of local lads, as Maeve stood with her girlfriends and sniffed over our desperate immaturity. Johnny and I kept a close eye on her, and when her back was turned for a moment, we scampered off, headed down toward the courthouse to have our own adventure, congratulating ourselves on our daring and bravado.

We hadn’t gotten 50 yards down the side way when we heard the car bomb go off behind us.

We stared at each other for long moments, the shock turning our faces ashy white. Johnny sprinted off first, headed into the carnage, screaming for his sister. I was immediately behind him, but we lost sight of each other the moment we entered the boiling mass of people. The smoke stung my eyes as I pushed my way through, the fires that had broken out sending people into a panic. I stepped over falling, crying people, bloodied shrapnel, bits of masonry, bits of bodies. I fought the crowds, screaming for Maeve, for Johnny, for anyone, my voice lost amongst the hundreds raised, all crying for Jack, for Aodhan, Alan, Mary, Osla, Aoife, Michael, Padraig, Brigit. A swell of people pushed me to the cobblestones, and I lay there stunned for a moment, unsure if it was from the impact or from the bloody, charred arm that lay a metre from me.

“Oh god,” I whispered. “Oh god, oh god, oh god.”

But no god heard my prayer, nor did he hear the prayers of hundreds of other people around me screaming for their loved ones. I picked myself up and brushed the dirt from my jacket and trousers, and fought my way back into the crowd. I never prayed again.

I didn’t leave the town centre for another hour. When I did, Johnny was at my side, dusty and red-eyed from the smoke and from the sobbing. I looked down at the road as we stumbled away towards his home where his parents were waiting, oblivious to what had happened until Maeve came home moments before us, hysterical but unharmed. As I pulled my trainers from my feet, I noticed for the first time that the white leather strip above the soles had been stained a dirty, blackened red.

Twenty nine people died in the town centre of Omagh. Twelve of them were children and teenagers.

No one ever ‘officially’ claimed credit for the bombing of Omagh. But the acknowledgement came soon after nonetheless. They called themselves RIRA, the Real Irish Republican Army. They were Christian militants, angry about the recent Good Friday Agreement that had been signed back in April that had called for an unequivocal ceasefire between the opposing Catholic and Protestant forces. They had given the village of Omagh a warning earlier that day. They told them an inaccurate location for a bomb, one that would push the evacuating crowds into the actual target zone.

This was by no means my first encounter with extremist Christianity; it had been a constant in my life for as long as I can remember. In Mass, the priest prayed for the deaths of the Protestant oppressors of our Catholic brothers and sisters. On the television, I would see Protestants in the north burning the Tricolour and screaming for the deaths of Catholics. Despite the efforts of the adults to keep what was happening out of sight of the children, we all knew about what was happening in Ireland. Men and women killed for walking out of the wrong church. For marrying someone of the wrong religion. For suspected Loyalist sympathies, for associating with the wrong denomination, for simply being in the way of the true targets, and for no other reason than the Christians wanted some more press. Thousands of bloody, pointless deaths.

I will not step foot in a church again. Because to give tacit approval to that belief system in any way is tantamount to rubbing shoulders with the butchers of my people. – by Tim Gavin (The Irish Atheist)

[academicatheism]

Hume’s Argument Against Miracles

Courtesy: The University of Edinburgh

[thedragoninmygarage]

[academicatheism]

The greatest contribution of atheism is the provision of a firm basis for ethical conduct. Atheism explains that morality is a social obligation but not a passport to heaven and salvation. The theistic belief in divine retribution sidetracked moral behavior. Believers were more prone to please the god of their imagination by prayer and ritual than to conform to rules of moral conduct. Consequently immorality and anti-social activities spread wild wherever people were absorbed in the worship of god and in the propitiation of fate. Atheism brings about radical changes in the outlook of people in this context. Truth, tolerance, love and equality are the basic needs of social harmony.

Gora, 1902-1975 Indian atheist leader in his Note on Atheism (via deconversionmovement)

[themedicalstate]

[sagansense]

Religiosity and Intelligence: A Century of Research

For nearly a century, psychologists have studied the relationship between religious beliefs and intelligence. A recent review and meta-analysis of research from 1928 until the present time, found 63 studies investigating this topic. The results show that religiosity has a significant negative relationship with intelligence, suggesting that stronger religious beliefs are associated with lower intelligence. While this finding is not new, there are some interesting ideas about why this relationship exists.

First, the authors discuss the idea that atheists are nonconformists, and that more intelligent people are less likely to conform. As the authors state, “if more intelligent people are less likely to conform, they also may be less likely to accept a prevailing religious dogma.”

The second possible explanation is that more intelligent persons rely more logical reasoning and empirical evidence in their belief systems. It might not be intelligence per se that leads to a lack of religious beliefs, but a cognitive style that is more critical of the prevailing religious beliefs in a community.

The third explanation offered, which is relatively new in the literature, is that religious beliefs satisfy a number of psychological “functions,” such as a sense that the world is orderly and predictable. The authors argue that intelligence confers a sense of personal control that negates the need for religious beliefs. A second function that religiosity might offer is greater ability to control impulses. Finally, religion might serve the function of enhancing self-esteem (most religions emphasize a personal relationship with god—a superior being), and religious communities offer a sense of belonging.

via neuromorphogenesis

[tinyblueponies-blog]

This is interesting. I'm curious about the relationship between intelligence and a sense of control.