What about faith? Some believers agree with us atheists that the evidence for God is weak, even nonexistent. Many concur that the arguments for God are ultimately unconvincing unless you are predisposed to believe. It all comes down to faith, they say. Faith would be unnecessary, they remind us, if God’s existence were proved to be a blunt fact of reality. There would be no way to separate the (good) believers from the (bad) unbelievers. Since faith is a virtue, proof of God’s existence would deny us the opportunity to impress God with our character. If belief were easy, it would count for little in demonstrating our loyalty and trust of our Father.
But this is a huge cop out. If the only way you can accept an assertion is by faith, then you are admitting that the assertion can’t be taken on its own merits. If something is true, we don’t invoke faith. Instead, we use reason to prove it. Faith is intellectual bankruptcy. With faith, you don’t have to put any work into proving your case or overcoming objections. You can “just believe.”
Truth does not ask to be believed. It asks to be tested. Scientists do not join hands every Saturday or Sunday and sing, “Yes, gravity is real! I know gravity is real! I will have faith! I will be strong! I believe in my heart that what goes up, up, up must come down, down, down. Amen!” If they did, we would think they were pretty insecure about the concept.
Faith is actually agnosticism. Faith is what you use when you don’t have knowledge. When someone says, “The meeting is at 7:30, I believe,” they are expressing some doubt. When you tack “I believe” onto a comment, does that make it stronger?
If faith is valid, then anything goes. Muslims believe in Allah by faith, so they must be right. The Hindus are right. The Greeks and Romans were right. More people claim to have seen or been healed by Elvis Presley than ever claimed to have seen the resurrected Jesus. With faith,
everybody
is right. Suppose an atheist, refusing to look at any religious claims, were to say, “You must have faith that there is no God. If you believe in your heart that nothing transcends nature and that humanity is the highest judge of morality, then you will know that atheism is true. That will make you a better person.” Wouldn’t the Christians snicker?
Hebrews 11:1 says, “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” In other words, faith is the evidence of non-evidence. It is a free lunch, a perpetual motion machine. It’s a way to get there by not doing any work. Hebrews 11:6 says, “Without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is.” Even the bible admits that you can’t know if God exists. You have to “believe that he is.” Abracadabra.
Jesus reportedly said, “If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible.” How many faith-peddlers could pass this straightforward test? If Christians are not doing stupendous acts (that can’t be done naturally), then how do they know their faith in God is valid at all? How do they know they are even saved at all? Paul says, “For by grace are ye saved through faith…not of works, lest any man should boast.” But James says, “Ye see then how that by works a man is justified, and not by faith only.” Are believers saved by works, or aren’t they?
Religionists sometimes accuse nonbelievers of having faith. Every time you flip a light switch you exercise faith, they say. But this is not faith; it is a rational expectation based on experience and knowledge of electricity. If the light fails to turn on, my worldview is not shattered. I expect that the light will sometimes fail due to a burnt-out bulb, blown circuit or other natural cause. This is the opposite of religious faith. The light does not turn on because of my expectation. Rather, my expectation is based on experience. If lights were to begin failing most of the time, I would have to adjust my expectations. (Or adjust my electrical system.) But religious faith is not adjustable. It remains strong in spite of a lack of evidence, or in spite of contrary evidence.
Sometimes we nonbelievers might express faith, but when we do it we are not pretending that our faith makes the statement true. We often assert trust or confidence in something that is not known 100 percent. For example, I respect my dad tremendously, from what I know of him. I have “faith” and trust in his character. But this does not mean I know everything, nor does it mean I can’t be wrong about him. It is possible that my dad is actually a serial murderer who has not been caught yet, though I doubt it. (I hope he smiles when he reads this.) The point is that although I do often express sentiments with near absolute confidence, I am open to the possibility that I might be wrong, admitting that my faith claim is not a knowledge claim. My dad has earned my respect. God has not. Scientists do something similar when they claim that a “fact” can be asserted when the evidence passes a certain threshold, such as the common 95 percent level. In fact, I think all knowledge is like this: we probably can’t say we know a thing with 100 percent certainty, except maybe “I think, therefore I am,” and even that has its critics. But scientific confidence is not faith—it is a tentative acceptance of the truth of a hypothesis that has been repeatedly tested, and it is subject to being overturned in the light of new evidence. The data and methods of testing are publicized, peer reviewed and open to any of us for examination. This is nothing at all like religious faith, which makes a leap from possibility to fact. Or, often, from impossibility to fact.
Some believers say it is just a matter of degree. If scientists are allowed to make a leap from 95 percent to fact, they reason, then believers are allowed to make a similar leap from
any
probability to fact. Even if this is true, after examining all the evidence and reasoning, I am convinced that the probability of the existence of God is way below 50 percent, way below even 5 percent. If we are going to allow any leaps, then they should round off in both directions: anything over 50 percent can round off to “true” and anything under 50 percent to “false.” If theists can say “God exists” with less than 100 percent certainty, they should let me say, even if I admit less than 100 percent uncertainty, that “God does not exist.”
The bible says that the “
ungodly
are like chaff which the wind blows away.” (Psalms 1:4) That’s fine with me. I prefer the winds of freethought to the chains of orthodoxy.
Chapter Six
Refuting God
Theists claim that there is a god; atheists do not. Religionists often challenge atheists to prove that there is no god, but this misses the point. In general, atheists claim that god is unproved, not disproved. In any argument, the burden of proof is on the one making the claim. Of course, if a specific god is defined incoherently, with mutually incompatible properties, then such a being by definition is logically proved not to exist. (See the next chapter.) Some atheists feel the entire debate is pointless until the term “god” is made understandable. Words like “spirit” and “supernatural” have no referent in reality, so why discuss a meaningless concept?
Some theists first try to argue for a general, undefined god or for the reasonableness of the god concept, trying to establish the existence or likelihood of
some
kind of creator or intelligent designer before moving on to argue for
their
particular choice (usually one of the traditional gods). This is a legitimate debate—“Is there a god?” as opposed to “Does God exist?”—but let’s not make the mistake of thinking it is a balanced controversy between two equally likely positions: “yes” for the theist, “no” for the atheist. The burden of proof is always on the shoulders of the affirmative, not the negative—innocent until proven guilty. If a person claims that an antigravity device exists, it is not incumbent on others to prove that it doesn’t. The proponent must make a case beyond a reasonable doubt. Everyone else is justified in withholding belief until evidence is produced and substantiated.
Many theists have tried over the centuries to prove a god exists. There are many lines of theistic reasoning and volumes have been written on each. Many of these arguments are reduced to a “god of the gaps” strategy. At most, the theists might prove the existence of a current gap in human knowledge, but this does not justify filling the gap with their god. After all, what happens when the gap closes someday? The gaps are actually what drive science—if we had all the answers there would be no more science. The following paragraphs briefly summarize some of the most common theistic arguments and the refutations. (Deeper discussions of some of these arguments are elsewhere in the book.) Atheism is the default position that remains when all theistic claims are dismissed.
“How can you explain the complex order of the universe? I can’t believe the beauty of nature just happened by accident. Design requires a designer.”
This is probably the most common argument for a god, but it merely assumes what it wishes to prove. Any attempt to “explain” anything requires a higher context within which it can be understood. To ask for an explanation of the natural universe is simply to demand a higher universe, effortlessly conjuring up the answer to the question. The universe (or the cosmos) is “all there is.” It is not a
thing.
A god would certainly be a part of “all there is,” and if the universe requires an explanation, then god requires a god,
ad infinitum.
If by “universe” we mean only our own local observable universe within the larger cosmos of multiple universes, perhaps we might call it a “thing.” Then, however, its context would be natural not supernatural and the designer, if it existed, would be natural, and the question shifts to the explanation of the complexity of the entire cosmos, with the same problem.
The mind of a designer would be at least as complex and orderly as the nature it created and would be subject to the same question: “Who made god?” Richard Dawkins calls this god the Ultimate Boeing 747, playing off the complaint that a windstorm blowing through a junkyard would not likely produce a complicated jet airplane. He notes that a designer of such a machine must be
more
complex than the machine itself. However, if functional complexity requires a designer, then the mind of the designer, being even more functionally complex than its creation, also requires a designer. If it doesn’t, then the argument is dishonest. You can’t require that everything except what you are arguing for needs a designer. That brings your desired conclusion into your premise. This is known as “begging the question” and is illogical. (It reminds me of the cartoon of the witch doctor coming down from the smoking volcano and announcing to the people, “God told me that his wrath will be appeased by the sacrifice of somebody other than myself.”)
There is design
in
the universe, but to speak of design
of
the universe is just theistic semantics. The design that we do see in nature (as opposed to the deliberate design of human artifacts) is not intelligent. Living organisms are the result of the mindless, uncaring reality of natural selection that builds complexity in extremely tiny increments over vast periods of time by keeping survival advantages through the blunt process of weeding out failures, which are denied the opportunity to reproduce by being eaten, starved, frozen, killed in competition or accidents, or beat to mating opportunities, or not being chosen as a mate, and so on.
The only genes that get passed on are the genes from successful parents, for whatever reason their environment allowed reproduction to happen, and those genes have a better chance of becoming the “fittest to survive” if the environment doesn’t change too much in the next generation. (Extinction is the ultimate weeding out, though this can make room for other species. We humans owe a lot to the elimination of other species, such as the dinosaurs.) Evolution explains how complexity can arise from simplicity. Creationism can’t do that: it tries to explain complexity with
more
complexity, and so explains nothing.
Many theists accept the fact of evolution—how could they not, with all the evidence and reasoning supporting natural selection?—but they remind us that the initial appearance of self-replicating molecules has not yet been explained. They are right. Although there are many good hypotheses, we still don’t know how this happened. But this does not allow theists to fold their arms and say, “See—you don’t know. We have an answer and you don’t. We’re smarter than the scientists!” That argument for God is based on ignorance, not facts. It is a “god of the gaps” argument. Failure to solve a natural riddle at this time does not mean there is no answer. For millennia humans have created mythical answers to “mysteries” such as thunder and fertility, but the more we learn, the fewer gods we need. God belief is just answering a mystery with a mystery, and therefore answers nothing.
“The universe appears to be fine-tuned for life. The odds against all the various constants randomly falling into the narrow range required for life to exist are so astronomically high that it is virtually impossible for it to have happened by chance. There must have been a ‘fine tuner’ of the universe.”
The phrase “fine tuning” appears to beg the question because it implies a “tuner,” but if we treat it metaphorically to mean “appearance of fine tuning,” as we do with “appearance of design,” then we can proceed with the argument. Still, it suffers from various defects. First, how do we know if any of those constants could have been different from what they are, and if they could, by how much? The only way to compute odds is to divide one number by another. So, if the constants could have been different, what is the ratio between the range of possible values and the range of life-allowing values? Until these numbers are known, there is no way to assign a probability. We only say that it seems unlikely from what we know.