Book report: The Last Superstition: A Refutation of the New Atheism, by Edward Feser
When
I read “The God Delusion” by Richard Dawkins, I had the definite overall feeling
that he was wrong. Not just that I disagreed with his ideas, which I do, but
that he was making actual mistakes in his reasoning and arguments. I pointed
out some of these in my book report (http://dejesus.blogspot.com/search?q=delusion),
but I knew there were more that I just couldn’t put my finger on. I’m just an
old country theoretical physicist, not a trained philosopher, so I’m not up to
the task of pointing out and refuting all his errors.
Luckily,
Edward Feser is. As a professional philosopher, with special interests in
Aristotle and Aquinas, he has the philosophical chops to expose the fallacies
in the arguments of Dawkins, Daniel Dennett, and the others who make a pretty
cushy living by mocking belief in God. Feser’s book “The Last Superstition”
presents counterarguments that are essential if one wants to continue to
pretend to be looking at the topic fairly and rationally.
Mind
you, this book is tough sledding. It starts with an exhaustive review of the
metaphysics of Aristotle, that is, Aristotle’s ideas about the concepts that
underpin philosophical thought. Now, I’ve always had a pretty negative view of
Aristotle, largely because so many of his scientific ideas have proven wrong.
However, the guy *invented* logic (just think about that for a second), so he
must be pretty smart. Luckily, Aristotle’s metaphysics are a lot better than
his physics. Feser’s exposition is very clear, it’s just that a lot of the
ideas are challenging. For example, there’s the concept of “forms” or “universals”.
This is the idea that there are entities that are real, but nonphysical, such
as “triangle” and “dog”. Real triangles and dogs are the physical
manifestations, to greater or lesser fidelity, of their ideals. Scientists use
such “forms” all the time, of course, when they talk about things like
“electrons” or “species”. Indeed, there must be something like “forms” in order
for communication to work. How else can you and I talk about things that are
purely in our own minds, yet be talking about the same thing, unless there is
something outside of our minds that we’re both referring to? Anyway, imagine
about 40 pages of that.
But
Aristotle is just the scaffolding to understand Aquinas. Thomas Aquinas used
the metaphysics and logic of Aristotle in order to reason about and discuss
things that interested him, including God. Among Aquinas’s accomplishments was
the devising of the Five Ways, as they are called, and it’s tricky to define
what they are. They aren’t exactly proofs of the existence of God. It’s more
like he’s trying to show something about some of the characteristics that God
must possess, or ways to think about God. Feser does a good job of explaining
this reasoning, and I will do a poor job of sketching out one of them:
Consider
something in motion, say, a kid hitting a ball with a bat. What causes the
ball’s motion? Well, the immediate cause is the bat, but obviously the bat
isn’t necessary in the process: it’s really the kid’s hands that cause the
motion. So, what causes the motion of the kid’s hands? The muscles in the kid’s
arms. And what causes the motion of the muscles? Presumably, nerve impulses to
the muscles. And what causes the nerve impulses? No doubt, something in the
kid’s brain. And what causes the action in the brain? Chemical reactions of
some sort. And what causes these chemical reactions? Molecules and electrical
forces. And what causes the molecules and electrical forces? Particles and the
electromagnetic force.
Now,
let’s stop here for a moment. Clearly, this line of reason can go only one of
three ways:
1.
You can keep on adding steps infinitely, each step explaining the step before.
Nobody believes that this kind of infinite regress is true, though. If people
think about it at all, they think that there is some one ultimate answer upon
which everything else rests.
2.
You draw an arbitrary line and say, “That’s it. This is the answer. Ask no
further questions.” This seems arbitrary and unsatisfying, though, like an
exhausted parent answering the 37th “Why?” with “Because I say so!”
3.
There exists an entity that can cause motion without requiring a cause for its
own motion. We identify this entity with God. This is referred to as the
Unmoved Mover.
Notice
a few things about this sketch (and I really haven’t done justice to the
complexity involved):
First,
it has nothing to do with religious belief, faith, sacred writings, divine revelation,
or spiritual experiences.
Second,
it involves pure logic, based only on the occurrence of something moving. If
you admit that a kid can hit a ball with a bat, the rest follows logically,
like a geometry theorem.
Third,
it has nothing to do with time. This isn’t tracking something back to the
beginning of the universe, however that happened. We’re talking only about
what’s going on in the moment of the kid hitting the ball with the bat. So, the
big bang theory isn’t pertinent here.
Fourth,
this does not depend upon any special knowledge of science. No new discoveries
are going to affect this argument. All that any new discoveries can do is push
the three-way decision back a couple of steps. You still come to the same
decision.
Fifth,
the other four “ways” are similar, in that they start from commonplace
observations – things move – and result, through the application of logic, in a
demonstration of some aspect of God.
Sixth,
this suggests that the proper question to ask, if indeed you actually ask someone
the question, isn’t “Do you believe in God?” but instead “Do you understand
that God exists?”. Belief has nothing to do with it. Or is that too snarky?
Last,
this is a pretty weird aspect of God, one you don’t hear much about.
Anyway,
I found this exposition of Aquinas’s ideas to be fascinating and appealing. It’s
nice to have a presentation of an aspect of God that does not depend upon
subjective personal experience, but only upon logic and reason. Very
refreshing.
Of
course, Dawkins gets this all totally wrong, which raises another three-way
question:
1.
Did Dawkins not actually read Aquinas before dismissing Aquinas’s demonstrations?
This seems lazy, and not the kind of thing you want to see in someone
championing some philosophical position.
2.
Did Dawkins read, but not understand, Aquinas? This doesn’t give you a warm
feeling about Dawkins, either.
3.
Did Dawkins read and understand Aquinas, but deliberately misrepresent
Aquinas’s ideas, the better to belittle them? This suggests a dishonesty about
Dawkins, which is not unheard of among scientists, but is especially
distasteful, since science depends implicitly on honesty.
Take
your pick. It seems as if Dawkins is either lazy, stupid, or dishonest.
Getting
back to the idea of this being a weird aspect of God, Feser actually presents a
list that shows several levels of sophistication in thinking about God. I found
this fascinating.
The
first and most unsophisticated way to think about God is as a stern but kind magical
old man with a white beard who lives in the sky. [Me: This is about the level
of understanding of young children and the kind of Christians who appear on Fox
News.]
The
second level is that God doesn’t really have a body, and has thoughts and
motivations in many ways different from our own. God is vastly more intelligent
and powerful than we are, without any of our limitations. The universe is a
thing God made, which now continues on its own, although God can tinker with it
at will. [Me: This is a common way of thinking about God, and the
second-favorite target of atheists.]
The
third level suggests that God is not like any object or substance in the
universe. God is being itself, is existence itself, utterly distinct from the
universe, yet underlying and maintaining the universe at every moment. “The
universe is more like the music produced by a musician, which exists only when
he plays and vanishes the moment he stops.” None of the concepts we apply to things
in the universe apply to God, except as metaphor or analogy. [Me: I found this description
thrilling, because this is how I picture God, when I find it necessary to
picture God at all.]
You
would think you couldn’t get more abstract than the last one, but there are
actually at least two more levels of sophistication beyond this one. You can
read about them yourself.
(Interesting
aside: After a lifetime of contemplating God from a logical and rational point
of view, Aquinas appears to have had a transforming religious experience. He
stopped working on his book Summa Theologica and never wrote another word. When
asked to continue, he replied that it all seemed as straw to him, possibly a
reference to Paul’s idea that our works will be tested by fire, and those made
of straw won’t survive that test.)
As
much as I appreciate this book, I do part ways with Feser over what is called
“natural law”. Natural law is the Aristotelian idea that, by observing what
seems natural in the world, we can derive how we ought and ought not to behave.
For example, we observe that there are men and women, and that together they
can make and raise children. From this, we can derive that anything that goes
against this natural order must be unnatural and, therefore, wrong. In this
case, what’s unnatural and wrong includes masturbation, birth control, sex
outside of marriage, abortion, divorce, and homosexuality. Part of my beef with
natural law is that it doesn’t give a reasonable morality. In the given
example, there’s nothing to prohibit minors from marrying, for instance, and I
don’t think minors should marry. But mostly my objection is that natural law is
very much in the eye of the beholder. For instance, you could just as
reasonably say that it’s natural for adults to love each other, and that this
love might involve physical intimacy, regardless of their state of marriage. I
think that Feser lacks a good sociological imagination. Unfortunately, his
views, especially against abortion and homosexuality, crop up over and over
throughout the book, which is wearing.
But
back to the good stuff. Feser does a wonderful job of presenting various
philosophical schools of thought, revealing both their positive aspects and
flaws. A lot of it is very funny, such as his refutation of Kant’s Categorical
Imperative (you should do only those things that you would want to be universal)
– well, maybe you had to be there. He’s not shy about calling the New Atheists
names while he’s exposing their philosophical errors, which helps keep things
lively. He has a gift for creative ridicule.
The
last section is a critique of science, specifically the materialistic and mechanistic
view of the universe that says that everything that goes on is simply objects
interacting due to forces, with no goal or purpose whatever. He makes it clear
that such a view is not only not true, it is actually self-contradictory. How
can science do its investigation without people purposefully and goalfully
carrying out their investigations? Also, just try describing physiology, or
evolution, or DNA – or a “selfish gene” – without using language expressing goals
or purpose. He marvels at the cluelessness of the m-and-m folks who attempt to
explain the mind and subjective experience in terms of materialism and
mechanism: The very first step of the scientific method is to discard anything
subjective or of the mind. Therefore, naturally, it’s impossible for science to
explain the mind or subjective experience. Duh!
Although
I read this book mainly for its views on science, me being a scientist, I have
to say that by the time I got to that part of the book, I felt like a
marathoner reaching the end of the race: just glad to be able to limp across
the finish line. It’s that demanding a read.
All
in all, this is a worthwhile book to read if you want to understand where the
New Atheists go off the rails, and learn a good bit about philosophy in general
as well. Do keep in mind that it’s a bit of a slog, and you need to take
Feser’s pet peeves with a grain of salt.
Recommended
Comments
1. People may *think* there is an ultimate answer, but that doesn't mean there is one. Just because infinite regress may seem tedious, I'm not ready to jettison causality for theism.
2. Wouldn't this actually be an unmoved mover? I might be missing a distinction.
3. This seems like the same arbitrary line drawn in #2.