Tactics: A Game Plan for Discussing Your Christian Convictions (9 page)

This step of the
Columbo
tactic trades on a very important notion:
An alternate explanation is not a refutation.
Here's what I mean. It's not uncommon for someone to say, "Oh, I can explain that," then
conjure
up a story that supports her view. But I hope you see that giving an explanation is not the same as giving an argument — or refuting someone else's argument. She has to do more.

Oxford biologist Richard Dawkins wrote a landmark work entitled
The Blind Watchmaker.
Notice the way he explains how flight might have evolved:

How did wings get their start? Many animals leap from bough to bough, and sometimes fall to the ground. Especially in a small animal, the whole body surface catches the air and assists the leap, or breaks the fall, by acting as a crude aerofoil. Any tendency to increase the ratio of surface area to weight would help, for example, flaps of skin growing out in the angles of joints. From here, there is a continuous series of gradations to gliding wings, and hence to flapping wings.
³

Of course, this explanation may be a good one if you are a Darwinist. Stories like this are meant to parry objections, and this particular one has a good track record. This is partly because it sounds plausible enough at first (if it didn't, it wouldn't be appealing), and partly because it shields the Darwinian paradigm from a certain kind of criticism.

Don't misunderstand me. Starting with a hypothetical explanation is not in itself the difficulty. Science, forensics, and normal day-to-day problem solving trade on this ability all the time. Imagining what might have taken place may be a legitimate
first
step. It is not the last one, though, because a story doesn't settle anything. More is required.

In the case of flight, Dawkins's breezy account obscures two obstacles. First is the need for a massive infusion of new genetic information — at just the right time and in just the right balance — to accomplish the prodigious structural changes needed for flight. Second
is the mechanical, sensory, psychomotor alterations
required for the kind of flight that evolution could take advantage of. In order to overcome these serious hurdles, Dawkins needs to show the detailed and precise evolutionary pathways in specific cases of flight (birds, for example). This he does not do.

Explanations like Dawkins's are common in Darwinian circles. They are known derisively as "just so stories" after Rudyard Kipling's book of that title, a children's book with chapters like "How the Leopard Got His Spots" and "How the Camel Got His Hump." But stories like these pop up outside of Darwinism, too. Make sure you are not lulled to sleep by them. There are three questions you should always ask whenever someone offers an alternate explanation: Is it possible? Is it plausible? Is it probable?

First, is it
possible?
Some options seem completely unworkable on closer examination. In
chapter 3
, I questioned the view that the teaching of reincarnation was secretly removed from the Bible sometime during the fourth century. Such editing would require deleting selected lines of text from tens of thousands of handwritten New Testament documents that had been circulating around the Roman Empire for three hundred years. This could not happen. The "point in the nothingness" explanation for the Big Bang fails for the same reason. It's not possible to get something from nothing.

Second, is it
plausible?
Is it reasonable to think something like this
might
have taken place, given the evidence? Many things are possible that are not plausible. It is
possible,
for example, that I would have liver for dinner tonight. Nothing, in principle, prevents that from happening. It is not
plausible,
however. The reason is simple—I hate liver. Therefore, no one would ever be justified in thinking liver would be on my dinner plate at suppertime.

Some people claim that the miracles recorded in the Gospels were an invention of the early church to help consolidate its power over the people. Is there any evidence that this is what actually took place? It may be theoretically possible, but is it plausible? Does it fit the facts?

Third, is it
probable?
Is it the best explanation, considering the competing options? The person you're talking with must be able to show why his view is more likely than the one you are offering. For this he needs reasons. Why is his explanation a better one than yours?

When it comes to weighty matters, we want to make smart choices. Why go with a long shot, especially when so much might be riding on a decision? Wisdom, careful thinking, and ordinary common sense always side with the odds-on favorite. It may seem plausible to some that monkeys banging on typewriters long enough could eventually pound out the works of Shakespeare. That doesn't mean we're justified in thinking a baboon wrote
Hamlet.
I'm still convinced Shakespeare did that.

This is why your second
Columbo
question, "How did you come to that conclusion?" is so powerful. It helps you handle outlandish speculations and bizarre alternate explanations by placing the burden of proof where it belongs, on the shoulders of the one making the claim.

Reversing the burden of proof is not a trick to avoid defending our own ideas. When we give opinions, we have to answer for them just like anyone else.

We have a responsibility, but so do they —
that’s
my point.

If you find yourself stymied in a discussion, you may be looking for an argument that isn't there. It may be a bedtime story or an unsubstantiated assertion. Simply ask yourself, "Did he give me an argument, or did he just give me an opinion?" If the latter, then say, "Well, that's an interesting point of view, but what's your argument? How did you come to that conclusion? Why should I take your point seriously? Please take a moment and give me some of your reasons." When he answers you, be alert to the differences between what is
possible,
what is
plausible,
and what is
likely,
given the evidence.

There are only a few exceptions to the burden-of-proof rule, and they are usually obvious. We are not obligated, for example, to prove our own existence, to defend self-evident truths (e.g., denial of square circles), or to justify the basic reliability of our senses. The
way
things appear to be are probably the way they actually are unless we have good reason to believe otherwise.
⁴
This principle keeps us alive every day. It doesn't need defending.

This second use of
Columbo
is not a trick to avoid shouldering the burden of proof. Rather, it's meant to ward off extreme and unfounded doubt. Just because it is
possible
to be mistaken about something that seems obvious doesn't mean it's
reasonable
to think we are. This is the skeptic's error. Do not be taken in by it.

THE PROFESSOR’S PLOY

The
Columbo
tactic is a good one to use in the classroom, but there is a pitfall. I call it the "professor's ploy." Some professors are fond of taking potshots at Christianity with remarks like "The Bible is just a bunch of fables," even if the topic of the class has nothing to do with religious issues. Well-meaning believers sometimes take up the challenge and attempt a head-to-head duel with the professor.

Don't make this mistake. It's right-hearted, but wrongheaded. This approach rarely works because it violates a fundamental rule of engagement: Never make a frontal assault on a superior force in an entrenched position. An unwritten law of nature seems to govern exchanges like these: The man with the microphone wins. The professor always has the strategic advantage, and he knows it. It's foolish to get into a power struggle when you are out-gunned.

There's a better way. Don't disengage. Instead, use your tactics. Raise your hand and ask a question. For starters, you might ask, "Professor, can you give us a little more detail on what you mean? What kind of fable are you talking about? Do you think nothing in the biblical documents has any historical value? Is everything in the book a fanciful invention of some sort? What's your opinion?" Notice that these are all creative variations of our first
Columbo
question ("What do you mean by that?").

Let the professor explain himself. As a good student, listen carefully to his response. Take notes. Ask further clarification questions if necessary. If he falters in any way, the other students will notice. If he has trouble making his ideas clear, it will become obvious that he has not thought carefully about his ideas.

When you are satisfied that you have a clear take on his view, raise your hand again and ask him how he came to his conclusions.
Ask him to explain the line of evidence that convinced him not to take the Bible seriously. Make the teacher, the one making the claim, shoulder the burden of proof for his own assertions. This allows you to stay engaged while deftly sidestepping the power struggle.

Now here's the pitfall I warned you about, the distractive "ploy" intended to derail your efforts. The professor may sense your maneuver and try to turn the tables. He might say something like, "Oh, you must be one of those Fundamentalist Christians who thinks the Bible is the inspired Word of God. Okay, I'm a fair man," he continues, looking at his watch. "We have a little extra time. Why don't you take a moment and prove to the rest of the class that the Bible is not filled with fables?"

What has the professor just done? In one quick move, he has cleverly shifted the burden of proof back on you, the student. This is unfair, because
you
have not made any claim.
He
is the one who is expressing a view. It's up to him to defend it. He's the teacher, after all.

Don't take the bait.
Falling into this trap is nearly always fatal. The professor is trying to get you to do his job. Don't let it happen.

Instead, when you find yourself facing any form of the "Why don't you try to prove me wrong?" challenge, shift the burden back where it belongs, on the one who made the claim. Respond this way: "Professor, I actually haven't said anything about my own view, so you're just guessing right now. For all you know, I could be on your side. More to the point, my own view is irrelevant. It doesn't really matter what I believe.
Your
ideas are on the table, not
mine.
I'm just a student trying to learn. I'm asking for clarification and wondering if you have good reasons. That's all."

If he gives an answer, thank him for explaining himself and either ask another question or let it go for the time being. You have done the best you can under the circumstances.

The "professor's ploy" is to shift the burden of proof from himself to someone else. He demands that others defend views they have not expressed even though he is the one who has made specific claims. He tries to sidestep his responsibility, but the burden of proof is still his.

Do not be afraid to question your professors. Challenge them on your terms, though, not theirs. And do it with grace, respect, and tact. Remember, you don't have to be the expert on every subject. If you keep the burden of proof on the other side when the other person is making the claim, it takes the pressure off you but still allows you to direct the conversation.

GETTING OUT OF THE "HOT SEAT”

There's a further advantage of
Columbo
. I call it "getting out of the hot seat." Sometimes we're afraid we do not have enough information or are not quick enough on our feet to keep up with a fast talker in an intense discussion. The fear of getting in over our heads is enough to keep us from saying anything at all. We especially dread the possibility of being embarrassed by some aggressive critic blasting us with arguments, opinions, or information we are not equipped to handle.

In this circumstance, the tactical approach really shines.
Columbo
questions help you easily manage the conversation even when you sense you are overmatched.

First, don't feel under pressure to immediately answer every question asked or every point made, especially when someone else is coming on strong. Instead, practice a little conversational aikido. Let them keep coming at you, but use their aggressive energy to your advantage.

The minute you feel overmatched, buy yourself some time by shifting from persuasion mode to fact-finding mode. Don't try to argue your own case yet. Instead, ask probing clarification questions and ask for reasons (your first two
Columbo
questions). Say something like this:

It sounds like you know a lot more about this than I do, and you have some interesting ideas. The problem is
,
this is all new information for me. I wonder if you could do me a favor. I really want to understand your points, but you need to slow down so I can get them right. Would you take a moment to carefully explain your view and also your reasons for it to help me understand better?

These questions show you are interested in taking the other person's view seriously. They also buy you valuable time. Make sure you understand the ideas. Write them down if you need to. When all your questions have been answered, end the conversation by saying the magic words:
"Let me think about it.
Maybe we can talk more
later
."