To get to the very root of humanity, one descends to the level of intention. I do not believe there is anything underneath this that can be observed about humanity (except simple Being, but this is not unique to humanity). Now, there are most certainly foundations that allow for intention, but my intuition is that they would be too abstract to identify or discuss. We can drill down only to intention.

From the Intender, everything else arises. Intention lies at the base of the mind; it is the very seat of consciousness. It is the presence of the Intender that allows for awareness, choice, and action. Remove the Intender, and you are left with a mere organism. Insert the Intender, and you arrive at humanity.

Intention arises, seemingly, from nothing. There is no naturalistic explanation for the appearance of an intention (in the sense that I am using the term). Biological life exhibits reaction, all of which is predicated on chemistry; chemicals react to each other in certain ways, chemicals make up biological machines, and these machines execute function as they react to internal and external stimuli. All of biological life based on reaction and all reaction is based on chemistry.

There is no accounting for the spontaneous birth of an intention. To be sure, humans are biological and so much of human life is nothing more that reaction. All of this human reaction is, however, easily explained and predictable, not unlike the rest of activity within the animal kingdom. Of course, even within a biological system there is randomness – will a startled zebra flee to the left or to the right? No one can know for certain. What we can know is that, whichever direction it chooses, the zebra will indeed flee. What appears to us to have the shape of an intention is nothing more than a reaction; it is causality within a chemical system.

Given enough time, these reactions become largely predictable, and this is true of humanity as far as biology is concerned. However, there is no possible prediction that can be made for intention. The desire to call to mind a specific memory for no reason. The desire to ask a question out of the blue. The desire to desire. Such examples find no answer in biology; they do not evidence the patterning, causality, and predictability found universally within biological systems.

One might argue that what appears to be spontaneous intention somehow hangs on a quantum phenomenon, and would therefore be random and essentially meaningless. I believe that we can be fairly certain that such instances of intention are not purely random, but rather are initiated with purpose and control. Intentions are not meaningless; the Intender is the one entity in Creation that searches for meaning.

Does it make any sense whatsoever that one searches for meaning driven by a fundamentally meaningless impetus – that one searches for meaning, meaninglessly?

What interests me most in Philosophy of Mind are defeaters to arguments that mind – that consciousness – arrived Naturalistically. I plan to explore this idea here soon.

In the mean time…I caught this post on The Prosblogion reviewing Plantinga’s argument that a Naturalistic system cannot in-and-of-itself create content (thus out of that system, beliefs cannot arise).

In Knowledge of God, Plantinga writes:

When light strikes photo-receptor cells in the retina, there is a complex cascade of electrical activity, resulting in an electrical signal to the brain. I have no idea how all that works; but of course I know it happens all the time. But the case under consideration is different. Here it’s not merely that I don’t know how physical interaction among neurons brings it about that an assemblage of neurons has content and is a belief. No, in this case, we can’t see how such an event could have content – that is, it seems upon reflection that it could not have content. It’s a little like trying to understand what it would be for the number seven, e.g., to weigh five pounds (or for an elephant to be a proposition). We can’t see how that could happen; more exactly, we can see that it couldn’t happen. A number just isn’t the sort of thing that can have weight; there is no way in which that number or any other number could weigh anything at all. (The same goes for elephants and propositions.) Similarly, we can see, I think, that physical activity among neurons can’t generate content. These neurons are clicking away, sending electrical impulses hither and yon. But what has this to do with content? How is content or aboutness supposed to arise from this neuronal activity? How can such a thing be a belief? You might as well say that thought arises from the activity of the wind or the waves. But then no neuronal event can as such have a content, can be about something, in the way in which my belief that the number seven is prime is about the number seven, or my belief that the oak tree in my backyard is without leaves is about that oak tree. (p. 54)

I love it.

I’ve been bandying back and forth with Andrew on City of God (here too) over the weekend about pacifism and the justification for the State’s (meaning government in general, not specifically the USA) use of force. I thought I would post the comment here regarding Romans 13. It’s nothing new, but I think it’s useful.

God has ordained the State’s power. He has not only ordained its power, but has approved its use of force. How do we know this?

From Romans 13 we know the State has force (it bears the sword) but we also know that it is right for the State to use that force (it does not bear the sword in vain – lit. inconsiderately; without just cause).

According to the passage, the State does bear the Sword unjustly. Who is the arbiter of justice? The Lord. Who has placed the sword into the hands of government? Also the Lord. Therefore, the Lord has deemed it just (thus right) for the State to use the sword. In fact, the State exists for that very purpose.

Now, if one takes “not in vain” to mean “God uses evil for good,” I think one is playing fast and loose with the passage; it is emphatic that what we see here is not the “accidental” will of God, but rather the very specific, foreordained will of God. God is not turning lemons into lemonade. Granted, force wouldn’t be needed if there was no sin, so in a way there will always be an “accidental” quality to justice. This, however, does not mean that God’s will for the State to use force in a fallen economy is itself accidental. The passage has a bias and this bias is toward intentionality. God is not improvising, He’s being intentional regarding the State. Thus, in it’s justice it is justified.

Now, Rom 12 just told us not to take revenge for ourselves, but that revenge is the Lord’s…

“But Apostle Paul, how does the Lord avenge us?”

“Keep reading! It’s in the next chapter!”

Sometimes the Lord is pleased to avenge us through Divine intervention, but He often works through a minister or agent. What is His agent of revenge? Who bears the sword on His behalf? The State! How do we know this? Rom 13 says so! It calls the State a minister of God’s justice – an avenger.

Consider, much of the law, the “10 Commandments” in particular, are directed toward individual conduct. This is why the Israelite army could go and kill yet not be in violation of the Law. God was not being inconsistent in anyway or creating a special “alternate” Law so that He could calling them to war – different rules apply to the State than do to the individual.

Therefore, Paul’s reminder not to avenge ourselves does not necessarily apply to the State. In fact we see that Rom 13 justifies the State in using force (God establishes the State so that it can execute His judgments, and it wields the sword rightly, justly, “unaccidentally”).

Parents use the family credit card – children cannot. I must obey the speed limit – police can be exempt. The judicial system can incarcerate someone for decades – I would be prosecuted for doing the so.

What is true for the individual is not always true for the group, and the apparent tension between Romans 12 and Romans 13 is resolved when we grant this.

Let’s grant that Evolution is a fact and that morality has evolved in a completely naturalistic way. Morality is what it is with no outside influence (God), but is merely a body of principles that form and remain because they are somehow connected to the success and continued existence of humanity.

Let’s also grant that what is best for the “group” trumps what is best for the individual (thought I think I’ve adequately refuted that Evolutionists cannot make this claim in my previous point).

Let’s get practical: how is all this playing out? Well, it’s not playing out in a way that is consistent with Evolutionary dictates.

As just one example, disabled persons benefit far more from “the system” than many of us able-boddied folks do. Resource upon resource is poured into people whe are Evolutionarily useless.

If we have Evolved, if we have morals that are based on this Evolution, and if the welfare of the group is a “check and balance” for what right conduct is, then caring for the feeble is wrong. Labouring over disabled persons, enabling them to live “normal lives,” and pouring resources into keeping them alive when left to themselves they’d simply die, deprives the group. Weakens the group. Dilutes the strength of the group. Food that could be going to healthy, fit specimens is going to broken, feeble specimens. Care that could be directed toward people who would advance the species is instead going to those that hold it back.

In fact, I think if one was going to be honest, then an Evolutionary-based ethic would have to assert that euthanasia is morally acceptable and preferable: kill the feeble and the elderly, use them for food, fuel, building supplies, stem cell harvesting, etc. This is actually seen in nature as in many species, mothers eat their young if they are feeble. There’s a very pragmatic reason: it reduces the amount of weak genes available to taint and weaken the population. This is beneficial to Evolution! Removing destructive genes from the population allows evolution to continue positively, thus promoting the advantage and existence of the group.

But look at our species; look at how we care for the weak. Look at how we pour care into what are, by all appearances and for all practical reasons, useless people. People that weaken our race. Yes we can do better, but the fact that we care at all says a great deal about us as a species. Clearly our morality has come to be what it is separate from the course that Evolution is supposed to be charting.

A few weeks ago I wrote a series of posts critiquing Kenneth R Miller’s view that Christians can and should accept the teachings of Evolution. One statement he made unsettled me more than all the rest:

“evolution may explain the existence of our most basic biological drives and desires, but that does not tell us that it is always proper to act on them”

To this point I responded:

1) If our Universe is independent, by definition, every moral principle inside the Universe must be developed internally.

2) If we are creatures that have evolved, the doctrine of Survival of the Fittest is the ultimate, primary, and most reliable basis for the establishment of moral truth. Thus, any action that promotes my survival is justified.

According to evolution, Survival of the Fittest is conclusively, inextricably connected to life. Life depends on this principle — if Miller is right. Based on his premise, advantageous acts must be morally justifiable. Theft and murder and rape can all enable me to survive and pass on my genetic material to future generations, making the acts morally justifiable. We find examples of this throughout the animal kingdom.

Dan wrote the following in response to my post:

Theft, murder, and rape may temporarily advantage the individual, but they undermine the group. Humanity has lived, in all times and places, in groups - it is to our advantage to constrain acts that disrupt the group.

Dan makes a valid point: certain behaviours are of detriment to the species, and so one can make the case that such behaviours should be labeled as “wrong,” thus, immoral. The point, however, overlooks some rather important issues. Let’s consider, based on Evolutionary concepts, what is actually permitted in an Evolutionary-based morality.

(more…)

The third premise that Kenneth Miller presents is as follows:

“evolution may explain the existence of our most basic biological drives and desires, but that does not tell us that it is always proper to act on them.”

I do not see, based on the goals of the evolutionary process what is required for evolution to succeed, how this claim can be true?

1) If our Universe is independent, by definition, every moral principle inside the Universe must be developed internally.

2) If we are creatures that have evolved, the doctrine of Survival of the Fittest is the ultimate, primary, and most reliable basis for the establishment of moral truth. Thus, any action that promotes my survival is justified.

According to evolution, Survival of the Fittest is conclusively, inextricably connected to life. Life depends on this principle — if Miller is right. Based on his premise, advantageous acts must be morally justifiable. Theft and murder and rape can all enable me to survive and pass on my genetic material to future generations, making the acts morally justifiable. We find examples of this throughout the animal kingdom.

The animal kingdom, of which we apparently are a part, is within the Universe, and the Universe is apparently independent. Now, Miller keeps assuring the reader, “Well, we have to look elsewhere for our morality,” but what is the justification in doing so? Looking elsewhere for anything taking place within the Universe renders the Universe not independent! Independence demands that nothing external be sought out or included. Why does Miller set aside morality and meaning, giving them special privileges? Either the Universe is independent or it is not, and we can’t allow these kinds of logical contradictions in our thinking.

I can’t test Christ’s ideas in the same way that I can test evolutionary principles. Assuming Miller’s premise, why would anyone be more justified in looking to Christ for morality than to evolutionary principles? In fact, since this is an independent self-sufficient Universe in which human life is the result of evolution, I am actually more justified in looking to evolutionary principles as a basis for morality than I am to Christ. This leaves theft, murder, and rape open to me (being advantageous acts) and renders Christ useless (as His presence compromises the independence of the Universe).

Miller, and anyone else that holds to evolution, believes essentially that humanity is no more important than any other species of living thing. Sure, we might have a leg up in some areas, but all things being equal, we’re all just an amalgam of cells that have “made it.” On this grid there is no need or use for Christ and so it would be interesting to hear why Miller believes humans are in need of a Saviour at all.

In closing, here are some questions I would like to as Mr Miller:

At what point in human evolution did we become savable as a species?

Are all creatures savable? Is it conceivable that there could be a Gopher Jesus, and Zebra Jesus, and an Amoeba Jesus?

Since Christ took on human flesh, and ascended in bodily form to heaven, does Miller believe that the incarnation made Christ part animal?

When did the simple evolutionary instincts that allowed humanity to evolve transform into the existential quandary of sin — why are evolutionarily advantageous acts sinful at all?

Miller seems to believe that if God had simply created mankind, that in so doing, man would be devoid of free will. Miller again writes:

“All things would move toward the Creator’s clear, distinct, established goals. Such control and predictability, however, comes at the price of independence. Always in control, such a Creator would deny his creatures any real opportunity to know and worship him - authentic love requires freedom, not manipulation. Such freedom is best supplied by the open contingency of evolution.”

For some reason, and who knows why, Miller has it set in his mind that God is incapable of creating a creature that is capable of true free will, and that the only way free will becomes possible is to have God at arms length. What on earth is the possible justification for this? Miller is creating a false choice here. There is no good reason why believing that God can create a fully developed creature precludes its free will. Why should it? Miller admits in the excerpt that he believes God is in fact capable of creating a person out of nothing — why does Miller then think that a God who could do this could not go one tiny step further and create that person with truly free will! The very act of creating a person out of nothing defies all known physical laws. Clearly a God that is capable of doing this (as Miller believes He is) is capable of anything.

This blends into another, very important issue: is the free will Miller talks about a matter for our biology or for the soul? Does Miller believe that souls exist and if so, how is it that they come about? The burden of proof is on the Christian evolutionist to provide a naturalistic explanation for how the soul might come about, and of course to do this, they need to first prove scientifically that the soul even exists at all.

There are essentially three possibilities that Miller must accept:

a) If sin and free will are matters for the body, then Miller’s being a Christian is a waste of time, as the soul is nothing but myth, and there’s nothing Christ needed to save us from.

b) If sin and free will are matters for the soul, but Miller believes the soul develops naturalistically, then the burden of proof is on him to prove that the soul even exists, and how it comes to be. He will then have the difficult task of explaining how it is this naturalistic soul can even be saved unto a supernatural paradise, or why this naturalistic soul even needs saving at all (as death would simply be the end, with no eternity to worry about).

c) If Miller believes in the soul, and that God in fact does create souls, then it’s altogether irrelevant if we evolved or not as far as free will is concerned as the agent of free will (the soul) was still created by God!

The only possibility that makes any sense in a Christian system sees sin and free will as matters for the soul, and sees the soul as a supernatural entity. This completely destroys the foundation for Miller’s entire argument of a theological justification for evolution– God’s creating a biological shell poses no hindrance to free will as true free will is necessarily the property of a supernatural agent — the soul — thus exempt from the process of evolution.

Any way you slice it, Miller’s argument when coupled with His Christianity collapses into meaninglessness.

I’m often baffled by the duality scientists so regularly inject into the Creation/Evolution discussion. They are swift to accuse proponents of Creation or Intelligent Design as offering a kind of “pseudo-science.” However, when defending their own ideas scientists offer in return a kind of “pseudo-philosophy.” The latter I find to be more problematic. The foundation of an idea is more critical than the idea itself. In the excerpt from his book Finding Darwin’s God, Kenneth Miller presents several arguments on the topic, and each one is predicated on a very weak philosophical and theological foundation.

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There is a mountain. It rises up out of the desert floor, imposingly. Troops are massed on one side, their foe on the other. The army advances, but to engage the enemy they must traverse the heights or march around.

They march around.

Scribes note this.

The war is long over and the banners of both kingdoms have vanished, even out of memory. As nature would have it, so too has the mountain. Time and sandstorms have eroded and battered it into oblivion and all that remains of it is the hurried writing of an nameless scribe. On a parchment. Buried in the sand.

Millennia pass and a well meaning archaeologist happens upon the parchment; he does not happen upon the mountain. Other artifacts found nearby do not mention the mountain, though some mention a mountain several miles away. The archaeologist concludes the scribe placed the battle at this remaining mountain.

An excavation, however, will show no evidence of battle. Not a chariot. Not a spear. Not a bone. This is of course because no battle happened here — it happened at the other mountain. But the other mountain is gone and so the archaeologist must deduce the scribe recorded a fiction.

* * *

We observe from a fixed point. We assume — albeit safely — that everything around us has progressed to its current point linearly but we cannot account for those things which are hidden from investigation; we cannot account for a mountain that only one voice calling in the desert testifies to. How arrogant our belief that we have dominion and command of the what has come to pass.

Recently at City of God, in an article about how political sides are chosen, the author cited this article by John Haidt, explaining where our moral imperatives (things like justice, respect, loyalty) could possibly come from, via the evolutionary mechanism. Though I think this (evolution) can be a quite shaky platform to build any sort of epistemic or moral system on (and though it can often be an intellectual cop-out), the article was rather interesting. One statement just jumped out at me:

“..to explain why we don’t like to see suffering and often care for people who are not our children”

It is interesting that, globally and throughout history, people have extended care to others, unwarranted and undeserved.

An interesting explanation can be found in I and Thou, by Martin Buber. In this masterwork he outlines what the relation between humans should be, but what it (sadly) often is. He uses three short words to accomplish this objective: I, You, It.

How we should relate to each other, is seen in the I-You relation (this is also how we are to relate to God). It is, in the simplest terms, the purity of the relation of Being. No adjectives, no categories, no goals or agendas or conquests. However, what we are most used to is the I-It modality, in which we experience everything in objectified, codified terms.

What does this have to do with care? Well, I think the obligation so many of us feel at times, happens when the “I” in me sees the “I” in you. That is, when spirit speaks to spirit and we realize that something foundational is shared; that we extend into each other, somehow. We are often too self-involved to really tune in to this groaning within us, but it is this, our shared Being (the fact that we Are, that we are Human, and that we are grounded existentially in God), that compels even the most wicked to, at times, become capable of great acts of care.