God, Faith and Infinity » Lecture 11
There are theistic religions but also at least some non-theistic religions … among the enormous variety of religions going under the names ‘Hinduism’ and ‘Buddhism’; among the theistic religions, there are strands of Hinduism and Buddhism and American Indian religion as well as Islam, Judaism, and Christianity; and all these differ significantly from one another. Isn’t it somehow arbitrary, or irrational, or unjustified, or unwarranted, or even oppressive and imperialistic to endorse one of these as opposed to all the others? According to Jean Bodin, ‘each is refuted by all’; must we not agree? …
To put it in an internal and personal way, I find myself with religious beliefs, and religious beliefs that I realize aren’t shared by nearly everyone else. … And my problem is this: when I become really aware of these other ways of looking at the world, what must or should I do? What is the right sort of attitude to take? What sort of impact should this awareness have on the beliefs I hold and the strength with which I hold them? (Plantinga 1995: 191–93)
The problem, of course, is that we would have to radically reinterpret a lot of non-religious language to make religious debates non-genuine.
For example, when the Torah and Qur’ān prohibit eating pigs (e.g., ‘You are prohibited carrion, blood, the flesh of swine’, Qur’ān 5:3), but the New Testament explicitly permits it:
Nothing outside a person can defile them by going into them. … ‘For it doesn’t go into their heart but into their stomach, and then out of the body.’ (In saying this, Jesus declared all foods clean.) (Mark 7:15–19)
To reconcile these claims we should have to say ‘you are forbidden to eat pigs’/‘you are allowed to eat pigs’ is somehow merely verbal disagreement – and that would undermine the moral commands in scripture, because ‘X is forbidden’ doesn’t necessarily mean you aren’t allowed to do X.
There is also the interpretative question of what the unitary underlying meaning is. (One suspects that pluralists are secret monists who just reinterpret everyone else as agreeing with them.)
it is morally not possible actually to go out into the world and say to devout, intelligent, fellow human beings: ‘…we believe that we know God and we are right; you believe that you know God, and you are totally wrong’. (William Cantwell Smith, cited in Plantinga (1995), p. 197)
Grant that intellectual arrogance is a moral and intellectual failing:
Intolerant and dismissive responses … fail to conform to the most fundamental requirements of effective thinking. To respond to someone’s argument in a dismissive way has the effect, perhaps intended, of cutting off discussion. It is as if one said, ‘I refuse to think carefully about what you said. I will simply stick to my own beliefs about the topic.’ (Feldman 2007: 195)
One initial suggestion is that to avoid arrogance, each of us ought to respond, on becoming aware of the diversity of religious opinions, by abstaining from religious belief, and abandoning any previous religious commitments.
Sometimes disagreements occur between equals:
people are epistemic peers when they are roughly equal with respect to intelligence, reasoning powers, background information, and so on. When people have had a full discussion of a topic and have not withheld relevant information, we will will say they have shared their evidence about that topic. (Feldman 2007: 201)
Cases of disagreement between peers who have pooled their evidence is particularly interesting.
If I think I’ve done a good job in reasoning from our shared evidence, I ought to think it no less likely that my peer has too.
Our disagreement shows that one of us has made a mistake – but why should I think it is my peer rather than me?
After examining this evidence, I find in myself an inclination, perhaps a strong inclination, to think that this evidence supports \(P\). It may even be that I can’t help but believe \(P\). But I see that another person, every bit as sensible and serious as I, has an opposing reaction. … It’s difficult to know everything about his mental life and thus difficult to tell exactly why he believes as he does. One of us must be making some kind of mistake or failing to see some truth. But I have no basis for thinking that the one making the mistake is him rather than me. And the same is true of him. And in that case, the right thing for both of us to do is to suspend judgment on \(P\).…
This is a modest view, in the sense that it argues for a kind of compromise with those with whom one disagrees. It implies that one should give up one’s beliefs in the light of the sort of disagreement under discussion. This is a kind of modesty in response to disagreement from one’s peers. This is also a sceptical view, in the limited sense that it denies the existence of reasonable beliefs in a significant range of cases. (Feldman 2007: 212–13)
We characterised the dispute between James and Clifford in part as over this principle:
This principle returns here, for the equal weight view entails that there is a uniquely rational response to disagreement: abstain!
In Clifford’s terms, a peer disagreement undermines any right you previously had to believe.
Disagreement shows you that your evidence is not after all sufficient, because a peer with the same evidence formed a different opinion. Clifford’s Principle then tells you that you ought not to believe – and you shouldn’t adopt your peer’s equally unsupported view! – and hence you need to suspend judgment.
The Equal Weight view, and the Abstentionism it appears to result in, is one end of a spectrum of possible response to disagreement.
At the other end are views on which one may typically, or at least not infrequently, maintain one’s confidence in the face of others who believe otherwise, even if those others seem one’s equals in terms of the sorts of qualifications listed above. Let us call this the ‘Steadfast’ end of the spectrum. (Christensen 2009: 756)
Exclusivism is a steadfast view of religious disagreement.
Steadfast views can vary significantly over what may be required of you after learning of a disagreement.
Steadfast views, including Exclusivism, are also compatible with Uniqueness, if one dismissively takes a disagreement to indicate the error of my peer (Feldman 2007: 211).
Perhaps the unique rational attitude, even in light of disagreement, is that all parties to the dispute should come to believe what I believe!
the believer in question doesn’t really think the beliefs in question are on a relevant epistemic par. She may agree that she and those who dissent are equally convinced of the truth of their belief, and even that they are internally on a par, that the internally available markers are similar…. But she must still think that there is an important epistemic difference: she thinks that somehow the other person has made a mistake, or has a blind spot, or hasn’t been wholly attentive, or hasn’t received some grace she has, or is in some way epistemically less fortunate. (Plantinga 1995: 204–5)
Nor can we reasonably claim that our own form of religious experience, together with that of the tradition of which we are a part, is veridical whilst the others are not. We can of course claim this; and indeed virtually every religious tradition has done so, regarding alternative forms of religious either as false or as confused and inferior versions of itself. But the … rational justification … for treating one’s own form of religious experience as a cognitive response … to a divine reality must … equally apply to the religious experience of others. In acknowledging this we are obeying the intellectual Golden Rule of granting to others a premise on which we rely ourselves. Persons living within other traditions, then, are equally justified in trusting their own distinctive religious experience and in forming their beliefs on the basis of it. For the only reason for treating one’s tradition differently from others is the very human, but not very cogent, reason that it is one’s own! (Hick, in Oppy and Scott (2010), p. 284)
If this is right, exclusivists should adopt a moderate version of a steadfast view, recognising the rationality of their disagreeing peers.
If two moderates disagree, their exclusivism will make them each judge that they themselves are rational in retaining their diverging prior beliefs.
Being fully informed peers, they will recognise the symmetry of the situation; and hence they may each regard the other as justified.
If so, they will deny Uniqueness, and opt for some form of epistemic permissivism:
It should be obvious that reasonable people can disagree, even when confronted with a single body of evidence. When a jury or a court is divided in a difficult case, the mere fact of disagreement does not mean that someone is being unreasonable. … it would appear to be a fact of epistemic life that a careful review of the evidence does not guarantee consensus, even among thoughtful and otherwise rational investigators. (Rosen 2001: 71–72)
Suppose a detective has strong evidence incriminating Lefty and also has strong evidence incriminating Righty of the same crime. Assume that the detective knows that only one suspect could be guilty. One might think that since a case could be made for either suspect, the detective could reasonably believe that Lefty is guilty and Righty is not, but could also reasonably believe that Righty is guilty and Lefty is not. She gets to choose. …
I think, however, that this analysis of the case is seriously mistaken. It is clear that the detectives should suspend judgment in this sort of case (given only two possible candidates for guilt). The evidence for Lefty is evidence against Righty. Believing a particular suspect to be guilty on the basis of this combined evidence is simply not reasonable. Furthermore, it is hard to make clear sense of the thought that the other belief is reasonable. Suppose one of the detectives believes that Lefty is guilty. She can then infer that Righty is not guilty. But if she can draw this inference, she cannot also reasonably think that it is reasonable to conclude that Righty is guilty. This combination of beliefs simply does not make sense. (Feldman 2007: 204–5)
[Suppose that] how we come to adhere to certain epistemic standards… is just a matter of education. I follow standards S because I was inculcated with them at MIT. But had I attended Berkeley, I would have been inculcated with standards S\('\) instead. Given my total evidence as input, S and S\('\) deliver the conclusions \(P\), and not-\(P\) respectively. … I learn that if I attend MIT I will inevitably inherit standards S from my mentors, which given the evidence will lead me to believe \(P\). Attending Berkeley will result in my adhering to standards S\('\) and hence arriving at the conclusion not-\(P\). Now surely the prospect of several years of graduate school will seem rather pointless no matter how passionately curious I am as to whether \(P\). … I might as well choose a grad school to attend and hence opinions to hold by a preference for Massachusetts weather, or by flipping a coin. Once I have filled out the enrolment form for MIT say, I will know that unless something gets in the way, in a few years I will be of the opinion that \(P\). … But of course it would be absurd to form an opinion on the matter by an arbitrary choice when I don’t even know what to make of the evidence. (White 2005: 452)
The debate over disagreement can be characterised as involving two questions:
In that light, the space of options might look like this:
Uniqueness | Permissivism | |
---|---|---|
Conciliatory | Abstentionism/Equal-weight | Self-favouring/unequal weight |
Steadfast | Dogmatic Exclusivism | Moderate/Jamesian Exclusivism |
What about ‘right reasons’? May be dogmatic or moderate.
If that is what religious disagreement does to belief, still we can ask: Ought we to have faith, in Buchak’s non-doxastic sense (Buchak 2012)?
If the equal weight view is correct, then disagreement ought to make me suspend judgment.
Recall Buchak:
faith in \(X\) is rational only if the available evidence is such that no potential piece of evidence would tell conclusively enough against X. (Buchak 2012: 539)
But in the case of suspended judgment as to whether \(X\), we have a middling credence in \(X\), around 50/50. We know that some peer did think that the present evidence did tell conclusively enough against \(X\) to disbelieve it. We should surely recognise that there is potential for my peer to be vindicated.
So in cases of peer disagreement, my suspended judgment should make me prefer to gather more evidence about \(X\) before committing to any course of action.
Hence I will not act from faith, according to Buchak.
In support of (S5), there is a prima facie case for this principle:
If Postpone is right, and we aren’t to defer indefinitely, then we should gather more evidence: that is, more or less, the upshot of (S5).
If Postpone is right, Buchak’s analysis of faith is wrong; she thinks sometimes acting from faith is reasonable even when one has suspended judgment.
The question of what consequences suspended judgment has for action remains unresolved.