The Heart of Freedom (July 4, 2008 repost)

This week, the United States will celebrate our annual Independence Day (July 4th--the day in 1776 we declared, a bit preemptorily, our independence from Great Britain).

Freedom and independence are words with great political and cultural meaning for us; and not only for us, but for the numerous nations who (more-or-less following our lead) also declared their independence from sovereign rulers whom they believed were oppressing them, both socially and (not-infrequently) religiously.

Sad to say, Christianity was just-as-not-infrequently the religious oppression the people were revolting against. To some extent this is even true of the United States: even though our own national revolution was grounded on a mixture of orthodox Christianity and nominal deism (such as Franklin’s and Jefferson’s), the history of our country’s settlement in the centuries before the revolution was typically based on fleeing religious (as well as financial) oppression in Europe. And it can hardly be argued that Buddhists or Hindus or Muslims or witches, or atheists or agnostics for that matter, were the perceived (and even the actual) oppressors; not in this case. (Resistance by flight or arms to Muslim religious oppression is an earlier story, of the Middle Ages.)

Consequently, I fully expect that our agnostic and atheistic and otherwise sceptical colleagues have a special fondness in their hearts for Independence Day--because those particular first American Christians-and-nominal-deists made a provision of the principle that a person should be free to responsibly follow his or her conscience and best judgments concerning such issues, the most important issues of all; even if that means rejecting the religious beliefs of the founding fathers themselves--whether or not such a rejection involves substituting something better, including truer, as a set of metaphysical beliefs in their place.

Nor am I writing today’s essay in order to condemn such rejections, in principle. I have always consistently (even religiously!) insisted of ally and opponent alike, that insofar as the person is walking according to what light she can see and is looking for more light thereby, then I consider her my sister, whom I should support with my life (if it comes to that), even if she does not recognize me for her brother.

(The people I have problems with are the ones who, on any side of any aisle, would mire us in fog. That attitude is worse than an attack against me, which I care little for; that is an attack on my sister-in-heart, condemning her to hopelessness. And I am not remotely tolerant of that.)


Having said all this, however: as a metaphysician, I am aware that many people are not aware, that notions such as ‘freedom’ and ‘independence’ are rawly metaphysical claims about reality. They are also claims which, in regard to our relationship to the evident system of Nature in which we live, can only be affirmations not only of supernaturalism (of one or another kind), but of supernaturalistic theism (of one or another kind).


Ontologically speaking, only a self-existent fact can truly be independent. We ourselves, however, are clearly not Independent Facts of that sort: we obviously depend upon the system of Nature for our existence and abilities, to at least some large extent. What can be coherently meant, then, by freedom and independence?

The first answer must be, that since we are not Independent Facts, we are not and can never really be ‘independent’. Whatever worldview we accept, we aren’t going to be escaping from this fact, any more than we are going to be escaping from whatever Independent Fact ultimately grounds all existence. (I am setting aside, for purposes of brevity, the notion that two or some other limited number of IFs exist, independently of each other, upon all of which Facts we are dependent. If readers want to discuss this option in the comments, I will have no complaints, although I will point out first that if the proposition is that we ourselves depend on only one of those IFs, then for all practical purposes we might as well be talking about a single IF anyway. If you wish to propose cosmological dualism, you’ll have to go the distance. I discuss this more directly myself as part of an ongoing series of metaphysical argument here.)


Very well; then what if Nature is the IF? We will recognize, realistically, that we humans will not be independent of Nature in any ontological fashion. But, is there not some kind of meaningful freedom, a derivative independence so to speak, which we can still coherently propose of ourselves in relation to Nature?

To this I answer that such a derivative freedom depends, and must depend for its possibility, on the intrinsic characteristics of the IF. We are fond of using the phrase ‘to make free’. But if by ‘make’ we think in terms of force instigating reaction, then clearly there can be no freedom at all, even derivatively, in such a reality. I somewhat doubt we could even have the illusion of freedom, for the recognition of an illusion as such depends on being able to distinguish between reality and only the appearance of a reality. Such an ability to distinguish, however, depends itself upon the very freedom to act, instead of merely to react, which is now being questioned; or else the consideration has been put back one stage for no gain.

There is a crucial tension which must be resolved in metaphysical accounts of freedom, when discussing derivative creatures such as ourselves: we, our selves, are dependent for our existence and capabilities, on something other than our selves; thus any freedom we have must itself, paradoxically, be dependent on something other than our selves. But how can this be a legitimate paradox, and not an outright contradiction to be rejected?

It should be clear in any case, that if the IF’s intrinsic existence only involves mere power-effect, then only mere power-effect is responsible for our existence and capabilities. We cannot be even derivatively free, if such a reality is true.

Moreover, it should be clear that if the IF is atheistic (aside from questions of naturalism vs. supernaturalism for the moment), then there can be no doubt as to whether the IF’s intrinsic behaviors, upon which we depend, are anything other or more than mere power-effects. By excluding, per hypothesis, the notion that the IF itself has free will, we exclude the notion that the IF may in some way choose both to grant this gift to a derivative entity and also to somehow reduce its own merely direct control over the behaviors of this entity. (The two grantings might be the same grace, looked at from different perspectives.) Nature is not going to make personal sacrifices for our sake, if Nature is not a personal entity. Nor is the problem removed by proposing an atheistic supernature with either an equally non-personal natural system derived from it (in which we live) or else a personally sentient and active natural system derived from it (for that only puts our problem back one stage for no gain.)

If I take my freedom seriously, then--and I do, especially as a necessary presumption I find I must hold in order to be engaging in any argument--then I should conclude from the presumption of my freedom, that the IF must be theistic.


But does this much mend matters? The previous deadly question can be asked just as pertinently: if God is ‘making’ me free, then is my ostensible freedom meaningful in any way? If I answer, as before, that it depends on whether I consider the intrinsic self-existence of God, the final reality, to be about mere power-effect... well, we are talking about the ‘omnipotent’, aren’t we? And if we aren’t, then we’re verging into acknowledging that while we may be talking about some conscious intentional active entity, we aren’t really talking about the IF anymore, but about some subordinate entity instead. (Shades of Mormonism here! Which, incidentally, is why I have insisted that one way or another Mormons are not talking about the final IF of reality; but the IF is what I am interested in, especially as a metaphysician.)

To sceptical criticisms such as these, I am entirely sympathetic, and even ready to agree. (I feature a whole entry agreeing with such criticisms from the particular standpoint of ethical grounding here.) If God, in His own self-existence, is only an active sentience causing power-effects in whatever creations He creates, then my apparent freedom is just as illusory as it must be under atheism. It isn’t even a real-though-derivative freedom. And I am only a puppet; at best a fictional character like the characters in one of my novels.

But then, so much for the relevance of any argument I may be making, including the ones I have been making up to this point! Such a proposal violates the Golden Presumption: that I (and you, my reader) can act--that even if derivative, we still are somehow free.


Yet, didn’t I say near the beginning that the claim of our freedom and independence--a claim we celebrate in the United States every July 4th--is itself a claim not only of supernaturalism but of supernaturalistic theism?!

If I am real and am more than just a knee-jerk automatic reaction in a system of non-rational reactions and counterreactions, then I must be supernatural in some constituent way to that system of non-rational reactions (even if I am also largely constituted by that system and its behaviors). Furthermore, if I am real and more than these things, yet am not myself an Independent Fact (which is obvious), then God must also be real and must be the IF, with Nature (where I agree this exists) being a subordinately created system, along with myself. The argument only breaks down where God’s existence is regarded as being most basically the forcing of effect.

Therefore, insofar as I recognize the presumption of true (if derivative) action ability to be required for making any argument per se (whether the argument is mine or even an opponent's), I conclude that God’s existence must not be most basically the forcing of effect. But how can this be?


Here I find I need to appeal to what I think is a dichomatic option regarding the IF’s self-existence (whether the IF is God or not-God, supernaturalistic or naturalistic, in any combination of those claim-sets.) Either the IF is dependent upon itself for its own self-existence, or else the IF is not even dependent upon itself for its own self-existence. Each of these options, in its own way, resolves the problem of mere force-effect being intrinsic to God’s self-existence; but each option does so in very different fashions.

The latter position, which goes by the technical name ‘privative aseity’, essentially denies that even God’s own action is intrinsic to God’s own self-existence. If this sounds rather more like a static atheism than theism--I agree! Nevertheless, it is also, ironically, the position that has been usually taken by theistic philosophers, since the days of Aristotle. (Whether they were misunderstanding what he meant is beside the point; though the debate over whether Aristotle was a theist after all might not be entirely beside the point! But neither is it a debate I intend to engage in here.)

If the IF does not act at all for His (or its) own self-existence, then of course the IF’s existence must not be most basically the forcing of effect. But then again, a host of other problems begins to emerge which, while not immediately inescapable, will eventually resolve into effectively proposing atheism, I believe. Since I already conclude on other grounds (ones logically more prior--and ones that involve positively respecting the existence of even my opponents as responsible persons), that I should believe not-atheism to be true instead, then I am inclined to reject privative aseity and consider the other option of self-existence.

The other option, is that God’s own action is intrinsic to God’s own self-existence. (That the IF is going to be paradoxically self-existent in any case, is something we will be required to logically accept whatever else we believe to be true, once the logical math has been done; so I am passing over this potential difficulty, not without some sympathy, but for sake of relative brevity.)

On the face of it, this proposal should look more immediately theistic: even if I decided (which I would, for a technical reason I will not go into here) that I should accept positive aseity to be true, and yet still tended (which I don't) to believe atheism, I think I would find it more and more difficult to maintain that belief, the longer I consistently held to positive aseity.

But what positive aseity entails, is nothing other than that God is (borrowing biological language for a semi-anology) both self-begetting and self-begotten. We are talking at least, then, about God the Father, and God the Son, as nevertheless being the singular Independent Fact.

Normally I would discuss the option of modalism here. Instead, I will abbreviate to the result I already know (from experience) I will reach if I do: the Persons must be distinctively real as persons, even though they constitute one substance. They cannot be like two of the three or five ‘aspects of the Goddess’ in some popular mythologies; or rather, the Persons are aspects of the singular God but also more than only aspects. The persons are to be regarded as distinctively real as Persons.

What we arrive at, then, is a discovery: even though the Independent Fact does act (and so in that regard exercises power) in order to be eternally self-existent, this intrinsic action of the IF is itself an interpersonal relationship. The Father actively begets the Son, the Son actively concedes to the Father, so that the circuit of self-existence will be complete and completely active in one substantial unity.

If power-effectment then (to coin a term), is an interpersonal relationship at the most foundational level of reality, restricted only in the sense that self-existence chooses to not cease existing and cannot choose to simply exist and also not exist simultaneously (on pain of contradiction of ultimate reality, which is itself), then the first hurdle has been exceeded: my existence as a person does not depend on mere reaction to stimuli, whether atheistically or under mere monotheism. Consequently, neither would any derivative freedom I am given by God: to exist as a real boy, not as only a puppet. (Which is the hidden point to the fable of Pinnochio.)


I do not say that this is the end of the difficulties. I would (and do) need to work out other implications and corollaries from this, as a beginning of understanding the process of creation distinct from self-existence--a creation which I find includes myself (as a not-God entity).

But I can say from here, that insofar as I presuppose my freedom in some meaningful fashion--the same freedom any atheist, agnostic or other sceptic presupposes and indeed insists upon, in standing for what they believe to be correct--then I find I am robustly asserting a reality’s truth that is not only supernaturalistic, and not only theistic, but at least bi-nitarian. (I haven’t discussed a Third Person yet, because as far as the argument has gone here I do not discover such a person. This does not mean I would never reach such a conclusion from inference, however; refer to my section of chapters on "Ethics and the Third Person", especially from this entry onward.)

It is, in fact, only in orthodox Christianity that I find these precise claims also being made by people who, in turn, are drawing inferences from data ostensibly revealed in a historical story: which in fairness should dramatically increase my respect and regard for that general claim of special inspiration!

On the other hand, if (as some Christians prefer to do, though this is not my own preference) I began with the orthodox Christian metaphysical system as a presumption, then personal derivative freedom of the only sort that can be coherently available, even to a proponent of atheism, is provided for as a logical corollary of the worldview. (Actually, such freedom is necessarily presupposed even to presuppose the worldview, which leads to what I regard as major problems of circularity; so I personally do not recommend proceeding by this route. But to the extent that some Christian philosophers insist on doing so, I affirm, somewhat tautologically, that such freedom is in fact specially included in the package!)


Which leads back to the grief of my initial remarks: that Christians, who of all people ought to have known (and know) better, have still insisted on religious oppression throughout our history. Such oppression is not only immoral, it directly contravenes the very doctrines we profess to hold and cherish as truths. Sceptics are entirely correct to account us as hypocrites when we advocate, and have advocated, such things; and I cannot personally find it in my heart to blame them if they turn with loathing from the fruit we have spoiled (a fruit spoiled, I would say, by the persistent technical heresy of gnosticism, insisted upon by us as a safeguard we ourselves ought to have rejected), and reject our attempts at linking freedom--including the freedom cherished and died for by our ancestors, in order to secure the blessings of liberty today in these United States and other nations--with a system they find through simple (if occasionally oversimple) historical polling to have been, with some regularity and in some ways, an enemy and oppressor of freedom.

It is in honor of such sceptics that I am writing today’s entry. Yet it is also precisely in honor of such sceptics that I am, in fact, an orthodox Christian apologist. Against the abuses of our history, I urge now and always: please, do not give up hope.

'Christianity' is not the heart of freedom, whatever some uncautious apologists may have said to you. And you are correct to complain when Christians try to promote it as such (for this is the heresy of gnosticism, among other things.)

But God, the Father and the Son (and the Holy Spirit, too) is Himself the very heart of freedom. And He gives His very life for your freedom, too: cherishing you, yourself, whoever you are--forever.


God’s hope, then, to all our readers, around the world, on this day, and every day.

Jason Pratt

How Should I Be A Sceptic -- God and gods

[Introductory note from Jason Pratt: the previous entry in this series of posts can be found here. The first entry can be found here.]


In my previous chapter I explained why I think the concept of two or more IFs (whatever their other characteristics may be) leads, one way or another, to a functional proposition of only one IF.

So far when I have discussed a sentient IF (or a SIF), I have identified the IF as 'God'. But of course our history is full of religions where people declare the existence of numerous gods. Notice I have changed the big 'G' to a little 'g' in that statement. I am not trying to belittle this type of belief, but to preserve an important philosophical distinction.

I had to delay this discussion until after I had already covered the issue of what an IF is, and also until after I had established that there was no real point to discussing multiple-IFs (whether sentient, non-sentient, or any mix thereof). Now, I can now safely go back and cover this important distinction. [Footnote: I am also now in a position to cover in more detail what I mean when I contrast a non-sentient IF to a sentient IF--and that will be the topic of my next chapter.]

The IF, as I have been describing It (or Him), is the basis (even the 'base' or foundation) of reality as a whole. What I can discover and reason out about the IF, will affect the scope of intrinsic possibilities of any future propositions I may consider.

If, for instance, I discover that philosophical naturalism must be true, then I must reject as an error any supernatural theory of angels or devils. 'Angels' and 'devils' might still exist, but if naturalism is true they cannot be supernatural in origin or character. It would be a contradiction for entities to have aspects not dependent on Nature, if Nature is the IF--and if naturalism is true, only Nature (one particular system of reality) exists: a philosophical naturalist denies the existence of multiple systems in an ontological sense.

So, any conclusion I reach about reports or propositions concerning angels and devils (for example) should reflect any previous conclusions I have drawn about the characteristics of the IF.

Here is a different example of the same concept. In some versions of Greek mythology, the Fact from which all other things derive their existence is Chaos. It does not think; it is not moral; it makes no choices. It simply reacts and counterreacts according to its own self-existent character. From Chaos, directly emerge the Titans. The Titans cannot overthrow Chaos; and not only are dependent upon it, but also exhibit many of its characteristics. From the Titans come Zeus and Hera, who begin the process of begetting the other gods of the Greek pantheon--and the other gods produce more gods and demigods, humans, etc. (I am not saying this is how the pantheon was developed by Grecian cultures historically, by the way. I am only borrowing one common, and perhaps fairly late, version of the myth as an example for purposes of illustration.) The new gods can overthrow the old Titans because they are not utterly dependent upon them; but they cannot overthrow Chaos. Indeed, many Greek myths illustrate quite well, that (in their own fashion) the gods continue to exhibit the fundamental characteristic of the chaotic Final Fact. (The main difference is that the gods can take actions rather than merely react; and they do seem to have at least a truncated grasp of morality, neither of which are characteristics of non-sentient Chaos.)

The Greek gods, therefore, are not IFs; they are very powerful derivative entities. The entities derived in turn from them, could be less, more, or equivalent in power to them. The gods can trump each other, and to a certain extent they can be trumped by natural processes. (It can be difficult to tell, from story to story, whether these natural processes are or are not supposed to be gods themselves; either way, the principle is the same.) The gods are not supernatural; they are preternatural. And even if in some ways they might be considered to be supernatural (the distinction is sometimes smudgy and sometimes clear, as should be expected in stories told over long periods of time in a culture which developed and honed the practice of principle analysis), Chaos is supernatural to the gods and they still depend upon It.

This example illustrates why, although I consider the question of the existence and characteristics of gods to be interesting and even important; I don't consider it to be one of the first (or even middle) things to discover metaphysically.

Again, I don't mean this to denigrate those religions--I am trying to recognize the real implications of what those religions themselves have been designed to represent or 'say'. Polytheisms rarely (if ever) posit multiple self-existent gods (or Gods, in that case) from the get-go; and I have already explained why I think the very concept of multiple IFs leads to the recognition of a single IF anyway. So I should, and will, postpone the question of the character and existence of gods, until I figure out what properties the IF itself has.


Having explained why I consider the question of the existence of derivative gods to be secondary to (and dependent upon the conclusions of) my main task, I am now in a position to better explain my attitude toward Mormonism.

According to one prevalent interpretation of Mormon theology (though the actual tenets for the notion are, to the best of my knowledge, found only in two sermons, one each by Joseph Smith and Lorenzo Snow, which sermons are not regarded as canonical authority by the LDS church), 'God' was once a man (presumably human), qualitatively like us, who somehow achieved Godhood on a different world (or perhaps natural universe) and then went off with His wife to establish our Earth (maybe including, if I have understood the claim correctly, this evident natural universe in total).

I have a number of problems with this proposal (presuming I have understood these Mormons correctly): for instance, I think it is untenable to claim that natural properties can somehow develop into previously nonexistent supernatural properties. But more to the point of this chapter, I think such a philosophy might as well, at bottom, be some type of atheism--not theism.

Naturalistic atheism would not, in principle, exclude the possibility of a naturally produced creature eventually attaining massive natural power and then doing many of the things attributed to God by the Mormons (or by any traditional theism, actually). God would be a naturally produced entity; He (or, rather, he) would be 'a god', not God. He would still be, admittedly, the most interesting thing Nature (or some Nature somewhere in reality) has produced; and it would admittedly be prudent to obey such a powerful creature, in the same way that it would be prudent to obey King Arthur--or Stalin.

[Footnote: insofar as proper names go, it might be sufficient to say that he is 'God' if he is unique; but then one of the points to Mormonism is that any of us can attain exactly the same kind of development, and be exactly the same kind of entity as 'God'--and purportedly this happens on a fairly regular basis. The superiority of God to exalted humanity would only be the superiorities of a father to any of his natural descendants within a species.]

The Mormons thus seem to be telling me about an emergent god. That may be well and good, but I want to find out what the characteristics of the final Fact are. And, not coincidentally, 'traditional' Judaism and Christianity (and Islam, which also claims Judeo-Christian historical/theological roots but which is not connected to Mormonism) are trying to tell me about that Final Fact--what I am calling the IF. Of course, so is atheistic naturalism. One set of philosophies tells me the IF is sentient, one set tells me it is non-sentient. The Mormons seem to be telling me the same thing the atheists are telling me, or they might as well be, except with some unusual historical details.

[Footnote: the unusual historical details would, in many cases, be ones I happen to agree with, of course. The LDS Christian and I would disagree on the meaning of some of those historical details; but then neither, I suppose, am I likely to have total agreement on interpretation of meaning with any theologian even within the 'traditional' branches of Christianity.]

So the Mormons must be quite right about at least one thing: either they or we 'traditional' Christians (or both) have gotten far off the tracks. But maybe I can get some hints about the correct answer by checking out potential IF properties and the consequent implications. [See first comment below for a deferred footnote here.] Looking for the characteristics of the IF will give me at least a potential handle on what to make of existence/characteristics claims concerning entities which are (by the characteristics notably ascribed to them in their own stories) themselves derivative.

[Footnote: I understand there is another, perhaps less prevalent, type of Mormonism, wherein the three persons of God are treated as ontological IFs in themselves. I have already noted recently, though, how multiple-IF claims end up pointing toward a single IF after all, upon which the IF claimants would themselves be dependent. While my analytical examples were limited to two IFs, the principles work out just the same with any greater number of multiple IF claimants. This leaves me in much the same position, in regard to this variant of Mormonism, as to the more popular 'developmental' Mormonism: either way, the claims point back to an overarching IF; and as a metaphysician, my first concern is with figuring out the properties of that IF, insofar as I can.]

But throughout my book I have been dividing one of the chief potential characteristics, into sentience vs. non-sentience. Some of my readers may ask whether this is a facetious division; or at least, should I not introduce a third category? There are some pantheists (not necessarily all) who would claim that the IF is mindless yet purposeful--or words to that effect. So this is where I will focus my next chapter.


[Next time: SIF/n-SIF vs. ??]

How Should I Be A Sceptic -- in question of multiple IFs

[Introductory note from Jason Pratt: the previous entry in this series of posts can be found here. The first entry can be found here.]


In my discussion building up to (in hindsight) a positive argument for God's existence and character, I have been trying to pare off variations of philosophy which as far as I can tell are contradictory at their primary level--and of course I have tried to explain why I do not accept philosophies which require an active advocacy of contradiction.

In the process of trying to avoid absurdity, I have introduced the concept of what I am calling an Independent (or alternately an Interdependent) Fact--an IF. As I have done this, I find I am essentially recognizing and calling attention to something which everyone at bottom agrees exists; because in the process of checking the systemic integrity of fundamental proposals, I have discovered that even the opponents of an IF, if they are saying anything other than meaningless nonsense, are talking (without realizing it) about an IF.

As I have said, in a way my conclusion can be considered a variation of the Ontological Argument--but only in a limited sense. The IF might be sentient (a SIF), and be a supernaturalistic or naturalistic God; or it might be non-sentient (a n-SIF) and be the ultimate level of reality posited by atheists (be they naturalists or supernaturalists). Either way, I have concluded that we can discover (in principle) particularly real things about this IF--we can, in principle, affirm and falsify propositions about it.

I suggested at the end of my previous chapter [and entry] that some of my readers may here raise a very pertinent question: since I have now decided that I must discuss an IF, should I be speaking of only one IF? Or could there be a limited (not infinite) set of IFs?

As it happens, the principles of multiple IFs may be discussed by considering the idea that only two of them exist; and interestingly, when philosophers and priests throughout history have proposed the existence of equal but separate ultimate entities, they almost invariably propose two rather than more. I will be concentrating, then, on 'ontological dualisms' in this chapter--as I hope you will see, whether we are talking about two or two hundred multiple IFs, the underlying principles come out to be the same either way.

I call these philosophies 'ontological dualisms' to distinguish them from other topics in philosophy which may be called 'dualisms'. (Though I've been in the habit until recently of calling them 'cosmological dualisms'; but 'ontological dualism' is more accurate.) For instance, the theory that the human mind is to some degree independent of the human body is known as 'mind-body dualism'. But M-B dualism is a rather specialized topic within an already established overarching philosophy; and right now I am trying to decide what types of overarching philosophies do (or, deductively, do not) make sense as viable contenders for The Way Reality Really Is.

I think it doesn't matter in the end what type of ontological dualism is being proposed; but for purposes of example, let me present two of the most popular types. One I will call God/Nature dualism. The other, I will call God/Anti-God dualism.

God/Nature dualism proposes that God and Nature both exist and both are independent of each other. Nature cannot affect God; God cannot affect Nature. Nature is self-existent; God is self-existent. Neither one produced the other; both are eternal. Strictly speaking, God is extranatural, not supernatural, to Nature.

Put another way, one ultimate system is sentient (God), one ultimate system is non-sentient (Nature), and neither is 'above' or 'below' the other. Nature could be considered to be sentient or non-sentient in this type of dualism. A nominal deist who takes his worldview (God exists but has minimal effect on Nature) further into ontological dualism would, for instance, very probably consider Nature to be non-sentient. On the other hand, I think some religions in world history have proposed that Nature and Supernature are both sentient, yet are also both equal and Independent of each other. (When such beliefs involve masculine/feminine notions, however, a very curious implication follows--which I will discuss later in Section Two.)

God/Anti-God dualism states that Nature (which is usually agreed to exist--and is usually agreed to be non-sentient) is dependently produced by two ultimate entities. Both these entities are sentient, but they are both perfectly equal in power. Neither one can affect the other; neither one depends on the other; neither one produced the other; each entity is self-existent and was not created. [Footnote: being sentient, one IF might perhaps choose to allow Itself to be affected by the other, although this is dubious--see below...]

Although these two variants of 'cosmic dualism' have their own distinctive features, both of them propose or require two IFs to exist. Let me look more closely, however, at what this common idea entails.

By the terms of the proposal, the two IFs can have no power to affect each other. The problems associated with this can escape our notice because we, as humans, affect each other and Nature (and are affected in turn) all the time. But you and I as humans are not independents--certainly not within the worldview of any cosmic dualism I am aware of. We are at the very least commonly dependent on the overarching natural system that encompasses us.

For instance, I can poke you, and you may or may not be able to prevent me. If you can prevent me, then something other than my own choices may be constraining me; if so, then I am either partially dependent on this 'something', or this 'something' and I are interdependent and can affect each other equally.

But two interdependent entities, considered as themselves, must be part of an overarching system that allows them to interact with one another. For example, the system of Nature encompasses both you and me.

This principle may not seem important when we are discussing 'dualisms' merely in theory; but it becomes devastating when a dualism is practically proposed. [Footnote: the principles also has some striking consequences in regard to a theistic IF. I'll be developing this topic much later in Section Four.]

Let us say a God/Nature dualism exists. Why should we say that? You and I are evidently part of Nature in some fashion; Nature affects our ability to think and to move. What does the proposal of a supernatural IF provide us, if Nature is also Independent? Explanations of events? What events? Not any event exhibited in Nature: for Nature as an Independent is invulnerable to extra-Natural effects. God might choose (as a sentient entity) to allow something, such as an extra-natural (or even a derivative) Nature, to affect Him; but a non-sentient Nature does not have that option. [Footnote: the implications of this notion in regard to a pair of sentient IFs will be discussed presently.]

God, in this proposal, can only exhibit events Nature does not exhibit; so how are we to perceive God? If we cannot perceive God's effects we are left with no grounds to accept a proposal of Him; if we can perceive God's effects, then under God/Nature dualism they cannot be effects within Nature. But that doesn't matter, because we are derivative of Nature (at least) under this theory; here we are in Nature, thus we must be derivative of Nature, and not derivative of God, Who (as an extra-Natural entity, even though also an IF) cannot cause effects within another IF system. Yet, under God/Nature dualism, we can somehow perceive God. This perception must either be sheer illusion (and there goes our last ground for accepting the proposal of a God/Nature dualism, leaving us with Nature as the IF); or else we somehow share or exhibit or form a common ground where the two effects (Divine and Natural) meet in some way.

But there can be no common ground in a cosmic dualism! Otherwise it isn't a cosmic dualism, because the common ground shows the existence of an overarching system that (even if metaphorically) 'encloses' the two effect-producers.

The actual implications of a God/Nature dualism, then, require me to reject it. Any conditions that might give me some initial grounds for concluding a God/Nature dualism, also require that I must be mistaken to conclude this. I grant (as I have done before) that someone could sheerly assert this; but I have explained why I do not think a mere assertion counts as a belief in the proposition. The characteristics of a God/Nature dualism, repel my ability to cogently propose, or accept, its existence. This being the case, I will believe that something else is true.

Let us say, as another example, that a God/Anti-God dualism exists. Why should we say that? You and I are obviously part of Nature in some fashion; and Nature for this scheme must be derived equally from these entities--otherwise it immediately runs into the problems of the God/Nature dualism.

But a God/Anti-God dualism cannot avoid the same problem in the end: both entities are supposed to be introducing effects into Nature (even if they are only limited to being the common Creators of Nature)

SIF dualisms often propose that the two SIFs must be equal and opposite to each other. If so, each SIF would have an intrinsic interest in opposing whatever the Other is doing, including within commonly shared systems such as our Nature. Any action taken by one entity within the proposed common system should be capable of being instantly countered as a zero-sum opposing effect by the other entity; and this zero-sum effect would be a guaranteed result of two necessarily equal/opposite entities, with perfectly ultimate access to our natural system. Certainly this would be true of a God/Anti-God dualism!

And I think dualists are correct to propose that a dual set of IFs would necessarily be opposed to one another in this fashion, down to their final foundational characteristics. Any characteristics they shared would imply a commonality of their own (purportedly Independent) 'natures'.

This leads back to the most fundamental problem with any type of dualism, including God/Anti-God: the concept of two (or more) IFs sharing any commonality, even a common field of activity or sheer existence, is contradictory to the concept of both of them being truly Independent. It indicates, instead, that they share some overarching reality, and this reality (not them) would be the true IF.

If it comes to it, the mere fact that we (as derivative beings) can even think of two completely Independent entities, slurs over the fact that (for the moment at least) our own minds become the common medium. If more than one IF does exist, I think it would be a contradiction in terms for us to even imagine their existence.

I do not know whether I have entirely removed ontological dualisms from possible consideration; but I am disinclined to consider a cosmological dualism as a viable option. Thinking through the implications of such notions, leads me directly to something other than a cosmological dualism: it leads me to some single IF. [See first comment below for a deferred footnote here.]

I will now add that theisms are not dualisms, and are not usually presented as such. [See second comment below for a deferred footnote here.] Jews, Christians and Muslims may believe in a Most Powerful Evil Entity--a Satan, or Shai'tan--but it turns out there are legitimate metaphysical reasons why we should, and do, say this entity is a derivative rebel against God, not an equal-and-opposite opponent.

Often theists will allow that Satan may have an equal-powered (and equally derivative) opponent against whom he fights. The Big Three Theisms have historically tended to identify this good opponent as the archangel Michael. But 'evil' (per se) is not explained this way--by theists, at least. (I will be returning to this in a much later chapter.)

Having brought up peripherally the concept of other Very Powerful Entities, I will now backtrack a little and explain in a bit more detail the notion of God which, even as a sceptic, I would consider the primary argument to be about.


[Next time: God and gods]

How Should I Be A Sceptic -- in question of infinite possibilities

[Introductory note from Jason Pratt: the previous entry in this series of posts can be found here. The first entry can be found here.]


In the previous chapter [several entries ago], I said there were three ways the Final Fact can be (and historically has been) considered to transcend our ability to think about it.

I have already dealt with the first option: that nothing we say about the IF can be true; and I have explained why I reject this position and any positions built upon it.

The second option is that everything we say about the IF can be true. [Footnote: This position is not to be confused with a position stating that all facts have Independent status. I’ll be discussing variants of that position later.]

This would certainly qualify as a concept we cannot fully fathom; and its adherents often affirm that such claims are particularly true: i.e., that the IF is not a generality or pure abstraction (although sometimes they go this route, too).

Best of all, its adherents can say not only that they are rendering honor to the IF (to whatever extent that means); but also that they need not dispute with any other belief. All religions and philosophies are equally true and valuable, they will say: none has preeminence.

On the face of it, this seems like a sensitive, refined, tolerant belief that reduces friction between people. Everyone comes out a winner, hostilities are minimized, and anyone disputing it automatically seems revealed as being necessarily fractious and an enemy to peace. And I admit, insofar as those reasons go, I would very much like for this concept to be true.

But I am certain that it is not.

Why do I reject the proposition that all philosophical beliefs (including religions) are equally true and valuable--that all things we say about 'God' are true?

Let me imagine a meeting of these 'unitarians', as I will call them for convenience (though of course not all people who describe themselves as 'Unitarian' would propose that all proposals are true about God). A naturalistic atheist, a positive pantheist and a Muslim show up.

I agree that any one of these people might benefit from listening for a while to the beliefs of the other two. They may find issues where they really do share beliefs, and so may establish a certain amount of sympathy for each other as people. They may have their own beliefs strengthened by listening to an opposing viewpoint and seeing serious problems with the opposition. They might even begin seeing serious problems with their own belief-system and act to modify it accordingly, perhaps closer in line with an oppositional belief.

But what they cannot do, is seriously discuss a topic from three different stances and agree that everyone is saying something equally yet exclusively true about that topic.

The Muslim will say that the final fact of reality is sentient and moral, and that this entity (Allah) has definite opinions about, for instance, Muhammad. He will also say that God is one thing, and not another. If he did not, he would not be a Muslim; that is part of what it means to be 'a Muslim'.

The atheist will say that the final fact of reality is non-sentient and amoral, and that it doesn't have thoughts about anything, including about Muhammad: the prophet was not created by a sentient Entity upon Whom everything else depends, but by the non-sentient amoral Natural system instead; and consequently Muhammad was quite mistaken about being inspired by Allah and/or the angel Gabriel. Muhammad may have said some interesting things, may have done some important things, maybe even have said some true things about reality; but he wasn't correct about those things. Our atheist will say this, because those beliefs are part of what it means to be 'an atheist'.

[Footnote: The atheist may technically allow that an entity corresponding to Gabriel communicated with the prophet; but as an atheist, he will contend that this entity was not sent by a sentient Independent Fact (any claims of the entity to the contrary), and if (as is very likely) he is also a naturalist, he will also say the 'angel' was not a supernatural entity.]

The positive pantheist will say that no Supernature exists, only Nature (there is only one metaphysical level to reality); in this she will agree with our naturalistic atheist, and disagree with our Muslim. She will say that this natural system is sentient; she will disagree with both of her friends on this. She will probably say that God is amoral (or perhaps 'beyond good and evil'); again, disagreeing with both her friends. (The atheist would say there is no God, or ultimate sentience; the Muslim would say that God is moral.) She will say these things, because this is part of what it means to be a (positive) pantheist.

These three people cannot all be equally correct.

One or two of them may be correct on topic A, and the third may be correct on topic B. And one of them may even be completely correct on all counts. But to claim they all can be completely correct on all their mutually exclusive positions would be to claim a flat contradiction; and I have already explained why flat contradictions cannot be true realities.

Some pantheists, of course, are quite comfortable with assigning mutually exclusive properties to God as mutually exclusive properties. God is non-purposive, yet sentient, for instance; or, God is amoral, yet still provides us with a real moral compass. So our pantheist might decide she is really quite at home with this arrangement; she might decide she can stay a 'pantheist' and affirm that all things are true about God.

But our naturalistic atheist and our Muslim are not in the same boat; their beliefs only make distinctive sense by saying one thing and not another. They are always free to modify their beliefs, of course. [See first comment below for a footnote here.] But then they will no longer be an atheist and a Muslim. They will be some kind of pantheist--and not even every kind of pantheist!

And this is my second reason for rejecting this type of concept: it is presented as a way to respect and acknowledge diversity, but when it is seriously practiced it leads directly to one (extremely muddled) type of pantheism--either that or its adherents aren't really practicing it yet.

Again, unitarian pantheism is not supernaturalistic theism or atheism. The philosophy that promises an ultimate safeguard to all beliefs, instead converts all beliefs to a particular belief that is not those other beliefs.

I am tempted to call this 'insidious'; but I would be uncharitable to presume its adherents are consciously attempting this under the flag of tolerance and of acceptance of all beliefs. I think, however, that if I want to protect a distinctive belief of mine--or even to respect and listen seriously to the distinctive beliefs of you, my reader!--I cannot simultaneously maintain that all beliefs are true.

And this leads to my ultimate reason for rejecting this sort of position: its proponents do not--they quite literally cannot--mean what they claim to mean.


'All beliefs about God are equally true.'

Really? I believe some beliefs about God are more accurate than others and some are completely false.

'You are correct as well.'

But we disagree on this point! You say that all beliefs about God must be equally true, and yet also say that some beliefs about God are misleading or outright false! You are saying nothing at all about God.


At bottom, this position must be meaningless gibberish; or else it is a distinctively exclusive proposition about God. If it is the first, then I will not claim a 'belief' in it. If it is the second, then I still will not claim a belief in it, for I would be refuting myself immediately. Resorting to flat contradiction to save the position is, as I have explained, a useless tactic.

There is another way of putting my last point: such people often deny their position in the practice of ethics.


'Really, none of this matters! Don't you see that we must for the sake of society turn to a recognition that all beliefs are equally valuable and true?'

Why do you say that?

'Look at your own obscurantist intolerant beliefs! Your Christian Church raped and plundered its way across the Old and New Worlds, exterminating whole peoples and cultures and rendering untold misery throughout centuries!'

I myself am of the opinion that the particular parties you refer to were not, in fact, following the metaphysics or ethics of Christianity when they did this, and rather were implicitly rejecting them while holding to them in name for personal gain. [Footnote: Nor do I exempt myself from the principle of this opinion; for I am also a sinner, as well as a Christian. I will discuss this much later in my chapters on ethics.] However, let us assume for the sake of argument that they were indeed reflecting quite well the implications of Christian belief. What is your problem?

'My... my problem?? What kind of monster are you!? Is it not obvious?'

It would be obvious if they were wrong to do that.

'You're saying they weren't wrong!?'

No, we both are saying they were wrong to do that; and in your case you are putting at least part of the real blame on the specific characteristics of Christian belief.

'Certainly, whatever their beliefs were, they were wrong to do this! That is why we should embrace and recognize all beliefs as equally valuable and true.'

Except the belief of those people, evidently.

'Not if it leads to tragedies such as that.'

Then you are saying that all beliefs are equally valuable and true, and that some beliefs are better than others. Your beliefs (you say) lead to peace; some beliefs (apparently) lead to strife, hatred, fear and pain. You claim that strife, hatred, fear and pain are not equally valuable as peace--indeed that they have some kind of negative value; therefore the particular notions that lead to those things should be rejected. That is why someone should be a unitarian (or whatever) and not exclusively a Christian (or whatever). But so much for the whole point to an all-inclusive belief-system. It turns out that some beliefs should be excluded after all--which is just as restrictive (in its own way) as Christianity, Islam, atheistic naturalism, or whatever.


Therefore, I cannot really consider all claims about God (or, to re-include the atheists here, let me say 'the IF') to be true.

This leaves the third option: whatever the IF is, it must have particularly exclusive characteristics; and I have explained already why I think that at least some of these characteristics must be discoverable in some fashion. There are claims about the IF that are true; and claims that are false; and perhaps there are claims that are true about It under one condition and false under another. But that does not (as I have said) imply contradiction--although such a situation might manifest itself as a paradox, about which itself we should in principle be able to discover something particularly useful and true.

But some of my readers may now raise a worthwhile question: "You keep talking of 'the IF' and 'it' and 'itself' or 'Him'--or anyway as if It is singular. Perhaps you are right about an infinite regress being either necessarily false or necessarily presumed to be false; but why can there not be two (or some other limited number) of IFs?"

In fact, until now I have tried to alternate between saying 'the' IF and 'an' IF, precisely because I haven't yet touched this issue. Now I will explain why I think there must be one and only one IF--be it sentient or non-sentient, natural or supernatural.


[Next time: in question of multiple IFs]

How Should I Be A Sceptic -- in question of infinite regression

[Introductory note from Jason Pratt: the previous entry in this series of posts can be found here. The first entry can be found here.]


[Note: the previous entry ended with the questions, "So why can there not be grounds stretching on forever with no end, no Final Fact? Why can there not be an infinite regression?"]

For what it is worth, I don't think it is possible to prove that an infinite regress does not exist--nor that it does exist. So I will presume each of these two mutually exclusive options; and then check to see if either or both of the options crash.

Let me presume, for purposes of argument, that an infinite regress is real. What advantages does a proposed system of thought have, when based on this presumption?

None! If an infinite regress is true, then we have no means of reaching valid conclusions.

This is because we habitually presume, when we offer explanations or arguments, that somewhere 'behind' or 'under' the explanation (metaphorically speaking) is an actual reality that just is. This reality provides us the standard by which to explain other things; it cannot be explained the same way, in terms of something more fundamental than itself.

Now I grant that we humans are very good at turning our analytical 'spotlights' onto our presumed grounds and discovering that those grounds can, after all, be explained in terms of something else. But then the 'something else' becomes in effect the ultimate ground. Perhaps it, too, can be explained in terms of 'another something else'. That would be fine: as long as the next 'something else' doesn't turn out to be one of the earlier 'somethings', because then we have a circular argument and all the conclusions reached along that train of thought collapse!

We can keep doing this for as long as it is non-contradictory, and non-circular, to do so. But every time we do this, we must presume that we have reached a stopping point. We may eventually discover that we really had not reached the last stopping point; but that is very different from proposing that there is no stopping point!

We (usually) explain the existence of 'something' in regard to a more foundational 'something else'. But an infinite regress means that there can never be 'something else' which stands as a proper explainer to the 'something'.

Put another way: if there could be such a thing as a bottomless pit, you would never be able to answer the question "How deep is it?" Replying "It is infinitely deep" would be one way of saying the deepness is real but cannot be quantified: and "How deep?" asks for quantification. Yet in the case of an ultimately infinite metacosmic regress, this would apply to every question, and not merely in regard to quantification.

The infinite regressor may not be bothered by this. "Why, I can answer all sorts of questions!" he may snort. "I can add 2 + 2 and get 4 just like anyone else!" Yes; but you do this by presuming there is an unalterable characteristic of reality which cannot be 'explained away' or 'explained in terms of something else', which the math expression (and, for that matter, the logical 'law of noncontradiction') reflects.

"No, I pretend for purposes of convenience that there is a stopping point." Yes--because you know perfectly well that the statement will be reduced to absurdity if there is no stopping point! Yet, by saying there is (in fact) no stopping point, you concurrently assert that the proposition 2 + 2 = 4 is in fact (all possible appearances to the contrary) an ultimately unreliable statement! Furthermore, any arguments and conclusions you may draw with an infinite regress as your ultimate presumption, are rendered equally nonsensical.

"Christianity and similar theisms are false", you may say, "because in fact there is an infinite regress." [Footnote: This attempt could, of course, be made against atheism by counter-atheists, too; perhaps by a certain class of positive pantheists. But in my experience it’s more likely to be applied the other way around.] But this statement has been rendered as moot as the statement 2 + 2 = 4. The only 'explanatory power' an infinite regressor has, is borrowed by him from the position of his direct opponents: the people (atheists, theists, etc.) who do propose an IF of some kind. A position that must borrow all of its strength (even if only for purposes of convenience) from a presumption that its opposition must be correct, can only be an untenable position.


In other words, infinite regression has an ultimate and inescapable problem, which I think sinks it as a viable alternative to an Independent Fact: no one can possibly believe in an infinite regression.

'What!? Are you telling me I do not really believe my own position?'

Do you propose that there really is an infinite regress?

'Yes, of course!'

Then you have proposed that there is, in fact, an unalterable, final characteristic of reality: there is an infinite regress.

'So?'

So you are proposing that it is impossible to explain an infinite regress in terms of "something else" which is itself not an infinite regress.

'Naturally; otherwise I would be saying there is ultimately no infinite regress!'

But an infinite regression requires precisely that everything can be explained in terms of "something else" forever! You must make a tacit exception against the infinite regress itself, to even seriously propose it is true; thus immediately contradicting your own position!

Even if I tried to accept a so-called 'infinite regress', I would necessarily be putting it into some type of ultimate framework which cannot itself be explained in terms of something else--and this immediately undercuts the whole point to proposing an infinite regress.

I therefore conclude, that although I may assert I believed an 'infinite regress' to be true, I would have to be mistaken; I would actually be proposing an Independent Fact in order to try to propose an infinite regress, and I would have been misled in my labeling by not considering one of the chief properties of an infinite regression: it must be what it is, and so not be fully explainable (in principle, even if not in practice) in terms of something which is not an infinite regress. But then I would no longer be proposing an infinite regression philosophy.

I find myself and everyone else (including the infinite regressors!) already presuming that an IF of some sort must in principle exist; so either an IF exists or we might as well treat reality as if it did. To do otherwise leads us precisely nowhere, even if it was possible to consistently (or even coherently) presume otherwise (which I think is impossible).

So an Independent (or Interdependent) Fact should be formally presumed to exist. For all practical purposes I should even believe it must exist; and all metaphysics and philosophy should center either on discovering what we can about it, or else on working out what must be true given presumptions about it (including the necessary presumption we all evidently make--whether we express it or not--that it in fact exists).


But the infinite regressor has one more bolt in his crossbow: the IF must be something that we cannot say is 'caused' by something else, or 'derives from' something else, or is a 'piece of' something else that 'includes' it. It is what it is (or even "I AM THAT I AM!") and absolutely no further reductive explanation is possible.

But some people find this intolerable, especially among opponents to supernatural theism. "To explain the origin of Nature," an atheist may say, "by invoking a supernatural Designer, is to explain precisely nothing, for it leaves unexplained the origin of the Designer." This is a common and not altogether unreasonable type of complaint. But if we really accepted the use of this principle, then to explain the origin of the DNA-replication process (for instance) by invoking a blindly automatic Nature would also be to explain precisely nothing!--for it would also leave unexplained the origin of the Nature.

"Aha!" says the infinite regressor. "Now you see why I propose an infinite regress!" But there is no escape by that route; I can ask the exact same question about the infinite regress: how did it "come to be"?

So whatever philosophy we propose (and apparently whyever we propose one), we seem, at first glance, to be either explicitly or implicitly requiring the existence of an ultimate Fact that does not have to be caused.

"Hah!" barks the infinite regressor (and perhaps some of my earlier targets in this book). "That which is uncaused, does not exist! Here is a contradiction! Eat your own sword!"

I agree; so I should modify the statement to remove the contradictory proposal:

Whatever philosophy we propose (and whyever we propose one), we will explicitly or tacitly be requiring the existence of an ultimate Fact that sustains its own existence.

It is not, strictly speaking, uncaused: I agree, that would be a contradiction. It causes itself; as the Final Fact it must do so eternally. [See first comment below for a footnote here.]

I am intentionally contrasting this with the proposition that it merely exists without cause. In fact, this will be very important to part of my forthcoming positive argument. However, for the moment, let us stay with the conclusion that we must necessarily presume a self-causing IF to exist. To presume otherwise leads us to nonsense. I think that the notion of a self-causing Independent Fact is, at least, self-consistently coherent.

So I find, whatever I do, that I am necessarily presuming an IF exists. I would feel nervous about this, except (as I've already noted) I think virtually every philosopher does this already, whether they spell out the implications or not. [See second comment below for a footnote here.]

For most people, this shouldn't require anything like a jolting revelation. If I go to an atheistic naturalist and ask her, "Does Nature really exist and is it dependent on anything but itself for its existence?" she would probably answer Yes to the first part, and certainly answer No to the second. [See third comment below for a footnote here.] If I go to a certain type of pantheist (one who is not a 'negative' pantheist in the sense that everything must be illusion, although he might perhaps say that most things are illusion) and ask him whether the Absolute exists and if it depends on anything else, he will also say Yes and No respectively. If I go to a Muslim and ask him if Allah exists and if anything created Allah, he will also say Yes and No to those questions.

All of these people (I would fall into the same basic class as the Muslim) are affirming the existence of what I am calling 'the IF'. [See fourth comment below for a footnote here.] They will be assigning different properties to the IF; but they are still talking about an IF.

This raises my second topic for this chapter: could all three of these people (the naturalistic atheist, the positive pantheist and the Muslim theist) be correct, and if so to what extent?


[Next time: in question of infinite possibilities]

How Should I Be A Sceptic -- a first consideration of Independence

[Introductory note from Jason Pratt: the previous entry in this series of posts can be found here. The first entry can be found here.]


In the previous chapter (i.e. the previous few journal entries), I brought to the forefront a term I have already begun to use here and there in this book: the IF, the Independent-or-Interdependent Fact. Now I will discuss this concept directly, not only because I will be using it with increasing frequency as I continue, but because I think its existence must be accepted to avoid nonsensical positions. [Footnote: the acronym for Independent or Interdependent Fact happens to be the English word 'if'; but this is only coincidental.]

I have just finished explaining why I reject the position that God must be an abstract generality (and thus can have no particular aspects, even in principle, to be discovered). My reply was that in my experience the abstract describes the real (or, more accurately, we use 'the abstract' to describe the real) as opposed to being the real; and that consequently the abstract cannot be the foundation or ground for other realities.

I used observations of Nature to bolster this point. Nature apparently exists in an actual fashion; or, if it does not 'actually' exist, then we can know nothing including that Nature does not exist in that fashion. I did not mean by this that the material of Nature must be such that we can describe it with ultimate and total accuracy--evidently we cannot in fact do so. Our inability to completely describe the 'physical' in terms of the 'physical' may simply be a practical manifestation of what amounts to our attempt at a circular proposition: we may be reaching the level where Nature simply 'is' and so our categories of description based on what Nature does as a complex must necessarily break down when we try to cogently describe what Nature does at its most particular.

This is not quite a contradiction in terms; rather, it would be a contradiction in terms if we could accurately describe the ultimate particular physical units in terms of their group behaviors. If Nature is the only level of reality, then we could expect it to repel our probing (as composite entities ourselves) in this fashion.

Some people conclude that because the data we find fits this hypothesis (as far as I have carried it, anyway), the hypothesis must be true: Nature is the Independent Fact (or IF) of reality. In one sense, everything depends upon it and it depends upon nothing; yet, because Nature (on this hypothesis) is the only level of reality, then Nature essentially means 'everything' in total, and so strictly speaking there is nothing 'to depend upon' it. Nature (in total) might therefore also be usefully described as the Interdependent Fact.

Either way, it would be the most complicated, minutely articulated, particular Thing; and 'everything else' would only be parts of it, considered to be 'dependent' or 'separate' from Nature (where Nature is proposed to be a one-system total of everything) only for convenience of discussion.

What I am describing here is philosophical naturalism, as distinct from philosophical supernaturalism. It need not be equal to atheism, although (as it happens) most atheists are also naturalists in this sense: one and only one level of reality exists, and it is the system we call Nature.

The natural system itself, then, is one candidate for an IF. As I noted above, some people would argue that because (or if) our data fits this hypothesis, then Nature must be the IF. But this is not a deductive argument; it is inductive. Even if it is successful (and I will have much more to say about naturalism later), it only establishes a viable contender. It does not necessarily exclude other hypotheses from being true--thus the conclusion of 'must' would, for this specific argument, be unwarranted.

On the other hand, if the exclusive alternative--commonly presented as 'God', although properly it would be 'Supernature' (which could itself be atheistic)--must be a generality or pure abstraction; and if (as I have argued in the previous chapter) such a view is tantamount either to a denial of Supernature's existence or at best to an ungrounded assertion with no attendant strength; then a successful inductive naturalistic argument of this sort would be part of an exclusively naturalistic conclusion: not because the positive (though inductive) naturalism argument excludes the Supernature hypothesis, but because (given Supernature must be a pure abstraction) the Supernature hypothesis excludes itself from contention.

This would be a reasonable, and even reliable, conclusion--I can easily imagine myself accepting it--given that Supernature (be it God or otherwise) must be a generality about which nothing in particular can be true. After such a conclusion, any co-presented inductive conclusion to naturalism would be virtually incidental. [Footnote: Essentially, in this case Supernature would be deductively removed from contention by the combination of its proposed characteristics ('Supernature must be general' and 'generalities are not actuals'). Any inductive argument in favor of naturalism would be purely secondary.]

But as I have argued in the previous chapter, we quite literally have no reason to presuppose that God (or even an atheistic Supernature) must be only a generality; and I cannot think of valid arguments to that conclusion. Rather, I think the situation is reversed: if God (or rather a Supernature of whatever kind) does not exist, then it would be true to say that this Supernature is only, at best, an abstract principle; but if Supernature does exist, as the IF, then that Supernature, as the IF, must be the most detailed, real, actual, 'concrete' entity in existence. If everything derives its existence from an ultimately most-real Fact, then that Fact is still the most particularly detailed Thing that exists--whether the Fact is sentient or not.

In a way, this is a restatement of a (generalized) variant of what is known as ‘the Ontological Argument'. A person proposing this argument, in theistic apologetics traditionally, attempts to infer that if anything really exists, then either God must exist, or at least we have good inductive reason to believe God exists.

All positive apologetics may thus be considered variants of the Ontological Argument: if A really exists, then we may infer the existence of B. Variants would occur by being more particular about A and its characteristics. So, for example, a popular theistic variant would be the philosophical Cosmological Argument: if Nature exists, then we have reason to believe God exists. The Kalam CosA focuses this to a scientific inference from the characteristics of the universe, such that if the universe does not eternally exist, then we have reason to believe God exists.

However, I am not talking right now about inferences from the existence and characteristics of anything other than “existence” itself--thus, this would be considered a broadly ontological argument.

But, neither do I take this argument so far as to infer that God (per se) exists; or even that supernaturalism is true! I think the Ontological Argument (along with many of its ‘cosmological’ variants) has only a limited use, one which works just as well for the atheist or positive pantheist: if anything real exists, then whatever the foundational Fact is that cannot be 'gotten behind' and upon which 'anything' and 'everything' (even itself) depends, the Fact must itself be ultimately real and ultimately complex. In whatever sense it is possible to say that 'derivative entities' 'really' exist, they must by necessity be less 'complete' or less 'detailed', or even (in a sense) less 'real', than the IF.

As I have said, though, this does not mean the IF must be sentient, or even supernaturalistic. The ontological arguments I have seen, including many cosmological arguments, have only reached such a supernaturally theistic 'conclusion' either by a flat (and unjustified) leap, or by applying to other argument far more particular than the Ontological (or even Cosmological) Argument itself.

But why does there have to be a stopping point at all? Why must there be an IF (whether it is sentient or non-sentient, supernatural or natural)? We are talking about something that is, for all practical purposes at the very least, infinite; correct? So why can there not be grounds stretching on forever with no end, no Final Fact? Why can there not be an infinite regression?


[Next time: in question of infinite regression]

The Heart of Freedom

[Note from Jason Pratt, 7/19/07: Professor Victor Reppert over at Dangerous Idea, has been redating his discussions on human rights in the context of the founding of the United States (which he does every semester or so, for discussion among his students, as well as his readers). At about the same time BK mentioned in a pretty good Cadre post on Uber-Turtles {g} that he didn't know a theist who rolled a particular way in regard to a certain ontological claim. On the ground of this curious, or perhaps providential, conflation of topics, I've decided to redate my "Heart of Freedom" post from Independence Day this year, back up to the top of the main page (with a couple of composition repairs). The first Eth&t3rdPers entry can be found here; but the entry briefly referenced below, can be found here. Sceptics may appreciate that entry a lot, btw.]

This week, the United States will celebrate our annual Independence Day (July 4th--the day in 1776 we declared, a bit preemptorily, our independence from Great Britain).

Freedom and independence are words with great political and cultural meaning for us; and not only for us, but for the numerous nations who (more-or-less following our lead) also declared their independence from sovereign rulers whom they believed were oppressing them, both socially and (not-infrequently) religiously.

Sad to say, Christianity was just-as-not-infrequently the religious oppression the people were revolting against. To some extent this is even true of the United States; even though our own national revolution was grounded on a mixture of orthodox Christianity and nominal deism (such as Franklin’s and Jefferson’s), the history of our country’s settlement in the centuries before the revolution was typically based on fleeing religious (as well as financial) oppression in Europe. And it can hardly be argued that Buddhists or Hindus or Muslims or witches, or atheists or agnostics for that matter, were the perceived (and even the actual) oppressors; not in this case. (Resistance by flight or arms to Muslim religious oppression is an earlier story, of the Middle Ages.)

Consequently, I fully expect that our agnostic and atheistic and otherwise sceptical colleagues have a special fondness in their hearts for Independence Day--because those particular first American Christians-and-nominal-deists made a provision of the principle that a person should be free to responsibly follow his or her conscience and best judgments concerning such issues, the most important issues of all; even if that means rejecting the religious beliefs of the founding fathers themselves--whether or not such a rejection involved substituting something better, including truer, as a set of metaphysical beliefs in their place.

Nor am I writing today’s essay in order to condemn such rejections, in principle. I have always consistently (even religiously!) insisted of ally and opponent alike, that insofar as the person is walking according to what light she can see and is looking for more light thereby, then I consider her my sister, whom I should support with my life (if it comes to that), even if she does not recognize me for her brother.

(The people I have problems with are the ones who, on any side of any aisle, would mire us in fog. That attitude is worse than an attack against me, which I care little for; that is an attack on my sister-in-heart, condemning her to hopelessness. And I am not remotely tolerant of that.)


Having said all this, however: as a metaphysician, I am aware that many people are not aware, that notions such as ‘freedom’ and ‘independence’ are rawly metaphysical claims about reality. They are also claims which, in regard to our relationship to the evident system of Nature in which we live, can only be affirmations not only of supernaturalism (of one or another kind), but of supernaturalistic theism (of one or another kind).


Ontologically speaking, only a self-existant fact can truly be independent. We ourselves, however, are clearly not Independent Facts of that sort: we obviously depend upon the system of Nature for our existence and abilities, to at least some large extent. What can be coherently meant, then, by freedom and independence?

The first answer must be, that since we are not Independent Facts, we are not and can never really be ‘independent’. Whatever worldview we accept, we aren’t going to be escaping from this fact, any more than we are going to be escaping from whatever Independent Fact ultimately grounds all existence. (I am setting aside, for purposes of brevity, the notion that two or some other limited number of IFs exist, independently of each other, upon all of which Facts we are dependent. If readers want to discuss this option in the comments, I will have no complaints, although I will point out first that if the proposition is that we ourselves depend on only one of those IFs, then for all practical purposes we might as well be talking about a single IF anyway. If you wish to propose cosmological dualism, you’ll have to go the distance.)

Very well; then what if Nature is the IF? We will recognize, realistically, that we humans will not be independent of Nature in any ontological fashion. But is there some kind of meaningful freedom, a derivative independence so to speak, which we can still coherently propose of ourselves in relation to Nature?

To this I answer that such a derivative freedom depends, and must depend for its possibility, on the intrinsic characteristics of the IF. We are fond of using the phrase ‘to make free’. But if by ‘make’ we think in terms of force instigating reaction, then clearly there can be no freedom at all, even derivatively, in such a reality. I somewhat doubt we could even have the illusion of freedom, for the recognition of an illusion as such depends on being able to distinguish between reality and only the appearance of a reality. Such an ability to distinguish, however, depends itself upon the very freedom to act, instead of merely to react, which is now being questioned; or else the consideration has been put back one stage for no gain.

There is a crucial tension which must be resolved in metaphysical accounts of freedom, when discussing derivative creatures such as ourselves: we, our selves, are dependent for our existence and capabilities, on something other than our selves, thus any freedom we have must itself, paradoxically, be dependent on something other than our selves. But how can this be a legitimate paradox, and not an outright contradiction, to be rejected?

It should be clear in any case, that if the IF’s intrinsic existence only involves mere power-effect, then only mere power-effect is responsible for our existence and capabilities. We cannot be even derivatively free, if such a reality is true.

Moreover, it should be clear that if the IF is atheistic (aside from questions of naturalism vs. supernaturalism for the moment), then there can be no doubt as to whether the IF’s intrinsic behaviors, upon which we depend, are anything other or more than mere power-effects. By excluding, per hypothesis, the notion that the IF itself has free will, we exclude the notion that the IF may in some way choose both to grant this gift to a derivative entity and also to somehow reduce its own merely direct control over the behaviors of this entity. (The two grantings might be the same grace, looked at from different perspectives.) Nature is not going to make personal sacrifices for our sake, if Nature is not a personal entity. Nor is the problem removed by proposing an atheistic supernature with either an equally non-personal natural system derived from it (in which we live) or else a personally sentient and active natural system derived from it (for that only puts our problem back one stage for no gain.)

If I take my freedom seriously, then--and I do, especially as a necessary presumption I find I must hold in order to be engaging in any argument--then I should conclude from the presumption of my freedom, that the IF must be theistic.

But does this much mend matters? The previous deadly question can be asked just as pertinently: if God is ‘making’ me free, then is my ostensible freedom meaningful in any way? If I answer, as before, that it depends on whether I consider the intrinsic self-existence of God, the final reality, to be about mere power-effect... well, we are talking about the ‘omnipotent’, aren’t we? And if we aren’t, then we’re verging into acknowledging that while we may be talking about some conscious intentional active entity, we aren’t really talking about the IF anymore, but about some subordinate entity instead. (Shades of Mormonism here! Which, incidentally, is why I have insisted that one way or another Mormons are not talking about the final IF of reality; but the IF is what I am interested in, especially as a metaphysician.)

To sceptical criticisms such as these, I am entirely sympathetic, and even ready to agree. (Which, not-quite-incidentally, I will be discussing in my next Eth&t3rdPers installment, eventually!) If God, in His own self-existence, is only an active sentience causing power-effects in whatever creations He creates, then my apparent freedom is just as illusory as it must be under atheism. It isn’t even a real-though-derivative freedom. And I am only a puppet; at best a fictional character like the characters in one of my novels.

But then, so much for the relevance of any argument I may be making, including the ones I have been making up to this point! Such a proposal violates the Golden Presumption: that I (and you, my reader) can act--that even if derivative, we still are somehow free.

Yet, didn’t I say near the beginning that the claim of our freedom and independence--a claim we celebrate in the United States every July 4th--is itself a claim not only of supernaturalism but of supernaturalistic theism?!

If I am real and am more than just a knee-jerk automatic reaction in a system of non-rational reactions and counterreactions, then I must be supernatural in some constituent way to that system of non-rational reactions (even if I am also largely constituted by that system and its behaviors). Furthermore, if I am real and more than these things, yet am not myself an Independent Fact (which is obvious), then God must also be real and must be the IF, with Nature (where I agree this exists) being a subordinately created system, along with myself. The argument only breaks down where God’s existence is regarded as being most basically the forcing of effect.

Therefore, I conclude that God’s existence must not be most basically the forcing of effect. But how can this be?


Here I find I need to appeal to what I think is a dichomatic option regarding the IF’s self-existence (whether the IF is God or not-God, supernaturalistic or naturalistic, in any combination of those claim-sets.) Either the IF is dependent upon itself for its own self-existence, or else the IF is not even dependent upon itself for its own self-existence. Each of these options, in its own way, resolves the problem of mere force-effect being intrinsic to God’s self-existence; but each option does so in very different ways.

The latter position, which goes by the technical name ‘privative aseity’, essentially denies that even God’s own action is intrinsic to God’s own self-existence. If this sounds rather more like a static atheism--I agree! Nevertheless, it is also, ironically, the position that has been usually taken by theistic philosophers, since the days of Aristotle. (Whether they were misunderstanding what he meant is beside the point; though the debate over whether Aristotle was a theist after all might not be entirely beside the point! But neither is it a debate I intend to engage in here.)

If the IF does not act at all for His (or its) own self-existence, then of course the IF’s existence must not be most basically the forcing of effect. But then again, a host of other problems begins to emerge which, while not necessarily inescapable, will eventually resolve into effectively proposing atheism, I believe. Since I already conclude on other grounds (ones logically more prior) that I should believe not-atheism to be true, then I am inclined to reject privative aseity and consider the other option instead.

The other option, is that God’s own action is intrinsic to God’s own self-existence. (That the IF is going to be paradoxically self-existent in any case, is something we will be required to logically accept whatever else we believe to be true, once the logical math has been done; so I am passing over this potential difficulty, not without some sympathy, but for sake of relative brevity.) On the face of it, this proposal should look more immediately theistic; even if I decided (which I would, for a technical reason I will not go into here) that I should accept positive aseity to be true and yet still tended to believe atheism, I think I would find it more and more difficult to maintain that belief, the longer I consistently held to positive aseity.

But what positive aseity entails, is nothing other than that God is (borrowing biological language for a semi-anology) both self-begetting and self-begotten. We are talking at least, then, about God the Father, and God the Son, as nevertheless being _the_ singular Independent Fact.

Normally I would discuss the option of modalism here; instead, I will abbreviate to the result I already know (from experience) I will reach if I do: the Persons must be distinctively real as persons, even though they constitute one substance. They cannot be like two of the three or five ‘aspects of the Goddess’ in some popular mythologies; or rather, they are aspects of the singular God but also more than only aspects, too. The persons are to be regarded as distinctively real.

What we arrive at, then, is a discovery: even though the Independent Fact does act (and so in that regard exercises power) in order to be eternally self-existent, this intrinsic action of the IF is itself an interpersonal relationship. The Father actively begets the Son, the Son actively concedes to the Father, so that the circuit of self-existence will be complete and completely active in one substantial unity.

If power-effectment then (to coin a term), is an interpersonal relationship at the most foundational level of reality, restricted only in the sense that self-existence chooses to not cease existing and cannot choose to simply exist and also not exist simultaneously (on pain of contradiction of ultimate reality, which is itself), then the first hurdle has been exceeded: my existence as a person does not depend on mere reaction to stimuli, whether atheistically or under mere monotheism. Consequently, neither would any derivative freedom I am given by God: to exist as a real boy, not as only a puppet. (Which is the hidden point to the fable of Pinnochio.)

I do not say that this is the end of the difficulties. I would (and do) need to work out other implications and corollaries from this, as a beginning of understanding the process of creation distinct from self-existence--a creation which I find includes myself (as a not-God entity).

But I can say from here, that insofar as I presuppose my freedom in some meaningful fashion--the same freedom any atheist, agnostic or other sceptic presupposes and indeed insists upon, in standing for what they believe to be correct--then I find I am robustly asserting a reality’s truth that is not only supernaturalistic, and not only theistic, but at least bi-nitarian. (I haven’t discussed a Third Person yet, because as far as the argument has gone here I do not discover such a person. This does not mean I would never reach such a conclusion from inference, however; as the title of my series on Ethics and the Third Person may hint at!) It is, in fact, only in Christianity that I find these precise claims also being made by people who, in turn, are drawing inferences from data ostensibly revealed in a historical story: which in fairness should dramatically increase my respect and regard for that general claim of special inspiration!

On the other hand, if (as some Christians prefer to do, though this is not my own preference) I began with the orthodox Christian metaphysical system as a presumption, then personal derivative freedom of the only sort that can be coherently available, even to a proponent of atheism, is provided for as a logical corollary of the worldview. (Actually, such freedom is necessarily presupposed even to presuppose the worldview, which leads to what I regard as major problems of circularity; so I personally do not recommend proceeding by this route. But to the extent that some Christian philosophers insist on doing so, I affirm, somewhat tautologically, that such freedom is in fact specially included in the package!)

Which leads back to the grief of my initial remarks: that Christians, who of all people ought to have known (and know) better, have still insisted on religious oppression throughout our history. Such oppression is not only immoral, it directly contravenes the very doctrines we profess to hold and cherish as truths. Sceptics are entirely correct to account us as hypocrites when we advocate, and have advocated, such things; and I cannot personally find it in my heart to blame them if they turn with loathing from the fruit we have spoiled (a fruit spoiled, I would say, by the persistant technical heresy of gnosticism, insisted upon by us as a safeguard we ourselves ought to have rejected), and reject our attempts at linking freedom--including the freedom cherished and died for by our ancestors, in order to secure the blessings of liberty today in these United States and other nations--with a system they find through simple (if occasionally oversimple) historical polling to have been an enemy and oppressor of freedom.

It is in honor of such sceptics that I am writing today’s entry. And it is in honor of such sceptics that I am, in fact, an orthodox Christian apologist. Against the abuses of our history, I urge now and always: please, do not give up hope.

Christianity is not the heart of freedom, whatever some uncautious apologists may have said to you. And you are correct to complain when Christians try to promote it as such (for this is the heresy of gnosticism, among other things.)

But God, the Father and the Son (and the Holy Spirit, too) is Himself the very heart of freedom. And He gives His very life for your freedom, too: cherishing you, yourself, whoever you are--forever.


God’s hope, then, to all our readers, around the world, on this day, and every day.

Jason Pratt