bookmark_borderSwinburne’s Cosmological & Teleological Arguments

I’m not going to try to fully explain and evaluate Swinburne’s Cosmological and Teleological arguments for God here. That would be way too much to tackle in one or two blog posts. There are just a couple of doubts or concerns about these arguments that I would like to express and explore.
Swinburne’s inductive cosmological argument for God has just one premise:
e. A complex physical universe exists (over a period of time).
g. God exists.

Swinburne argues that e is more likely to be the case if God exists, than if God does NOT exist. From this he concludes that the e represents legitimate inductive evidence for the existence of God; that is to say, the truth of e increases the probability that God exists relative to the a priori probability that God exists, relative to the probability that God exist given only tautological truths (truths of logic and math and analytic conceptual truths) as background knowledge.
If g represents the hypothesis that God exists, and k represents background knowledge consisting only of tautological truths, then Swinburne argues for the following claim:
1. P(e|g & k) > P(e|k)
(Read this as asserting: “The probability of e given g and k is GREATER THAN the probability of e given only k.”)
From premise (1), Swinburne infers the following:
2. P(g|e & k) > P(g|k)
(Read this as asserting: “The probability of g given e and k is GREATER THAN the probability of g given only k.”)
One objection that has been raised against this argument is that it is not clear that a probability can be reasonably or justifiably assigned to a factual hypothesis given background knowledge consisting in only tautological truths. If “The probability of e given only k” cannot be reasonably or justifiably determined (or estimated), then we are in no position assert that some other probability is greater than (or less than, or equivalent to) “The probability of e given only k”.
The same issue arises with claim (2) that Swinburne infers from claim (1). If “The probability of g given only k” cannot be reasonably or justifiably determined, then we are in no position to assert that some other probability is greater than (or less than, or equivalent to) “The probability of g given only k”.
But this issue with the idea of a probability given only background knowledge consisting of tautological truths is not the concern I wish to explore here. My concern is with the other conditional probabilities in these equations:
P(e| g & k)
P(g| e & k)
I’m not sure that these probabilities make sense either. My concern is this: Is it possible to know just one contingent fact? Is it possible to know that ‘God exists’ without knowing any other contingent facts? Is it possible to know that ‘A complex physical universe exists (for a period of time)’ without knowing any other contingent facts? If it is not possible to know just one contingent fact, or if it is not possible to know only the contingent fact that ‘God exists’ or to know only the contingent fact that ‘A complex physical universe exists (for a period of time)’, then it appears that we are being asked to conceive of a set of circumstances that is logically impossible.
If it is not possible for a human being to know just one contingent fact, these expressions might still be meaningful and useful as abstractions, as tools of hypothetical reasoning. Arguments typically have just a few premises, and we evaluate arguments by focusing in on these questions: Are each of the premises clear and unambiguous? Are each of the premises true? If all of the premises were true, would the conclusion follow logically? or would the conclusion be made probable assuming the premises were true? Does any of the premises beg the question at issue?
However, if knowing that g is true requires that one knows some other things as well, if knowing g presupposes knowing q, then objections to the knowability of q also work as objections to the knowability of g. So, the epistemological presuppositions of knowing g or of knowing e are relevant to evaluating Swinburne’s cosmological argument.
Suppose I know the fact that I am 5 feet 8 inches tall. Suppose I know that ‘Brad Bowen is 5 feet 8 inches tall’. Can I know just this contingent fact and no other contingent facts? Let’s think about this for a bit. I must understand that the name ‘Brad Bowen’ refers to a specific person, a specific human being, and that the measurement here relates to the size of the human body that belongs to a specific human being. I suppose that all of this could be taken as conceptual knowledge, as knowledge involved in simply understanding the meanings of the words and phrases in the sentence ‘Brad Bowen is 5 feet 8 inches tall’.
To have a clear and correct understanding of this sentence, I must also know that while many animals walk on four legs, human beings walk on two legs and use their arms for other purposes. Thus, the height of a human being is not measured when the person is on his or her hands and knees. Also, height at least for human beings, is measured when the person is standing, not when the person is horizontal, as when the person is sleeping. I should also know that rulers or yardsticks or measuring tapes are used for measuring the height of humans. This assumes that there are physical substances that are fairly stable in their length. Rulers and yardsticks don’t generally grow or shrink large amounts in short periods of time. A ruler that is 12 inches this morning is not likely to be 24 inches this evening. A yardstick that is 36 inches today is not likely to be 25 feet tomorrow. Furthermore, human height is significant and relevant in part because it is relatively stable, at least for periods of days and weeks. I was only about two feet tall when I was born, was about four feet tall when in elementary school, and was over five feet tall in high school. People usually get taller rapidly as young children and teenagers, and then their growth in height slows, and height is stable for many years.
As you can see, there is a fair amount of background knowledge involved in knowing the fact that ‘Brad Bowen is 5 feet 8 inches tall’. Some of that knowledge is conceptual/linguistic knowledge, but some of the knowledge mentioned above is contingent factual knowledge about the world and about human beings. If such an apparently simple and innocuous fact as this requires a good deal of background knowledge in order to clearly and fully understand and know the fact to be true, then I suspect that a deep philosophical claim like ‘God exists’ or ‘A complex physical universe exists’ also requires a significant amount of background knowledge to clearly and fully understand that claim.
To be continued…

bookmark_borderForward into the Past

It looks like my home state of Jawja is going to follow Arizona’s “lead” and is trying to pass legislation that would broadly permit discrimination against gay people:

Georgia Lawmakers Want to Allow Businesses to Kick Gay People Out of Diners

Wow. This news definitely induces a sense of deja vu for me. When I was a kid growing up in the Atlanta area in the 1960’s there was a well-known noisy segregationist named Lester Maddox. Ol’ Lester was a card. He ran a fried chicken restaurant and used the profits to buy space in the Atlanta Journal to publish his tirades against MLK Jr. civil rights, and the Fed-rul Guv-ment (as he pronounced it). He could play the harmonica and ride a bicycle backwards. His most famous trick, though, was chasing black people out of his restaurant with ax handles. He was governor of Georgia from 1968-1972, and he definitely had entertainment value. He would dash out and lower the state flags to half staff when the Supreme Court made a ruling he disliked. When the novel A Patch of Blue (about a romance between a black man and a blind white woman) came out, Gov. Lester declared it “obscene,” which made it a local bestseller.
Now, over 40 years later, it is looking like Lester would feel right at home in the “new:”Georgia. If the bill becomes law, maybe people will start getting chased out of restaurants again, but this time for being gay, not black. “The more things change…”

bookmark_borderReply to Prof. Feser’s Second Question

Ed, I would like to respond to each question first before responding to your responses; otherwise things could get confusing.
Here is your second question:

2. Could you tell us where in your writings or in someone else’s that we can find what you take to be the strongest criticisms of the Scholastic arguments for the doctrine of divine conservation?

Good question. Actually, I think that recent atheist writers have been remiss in not addressing this question or Thomistic metaphysics in general nearly as much as they should. Nicholas Everitt does have an interesting discussion of the Cartesian conception of continuous creation on pp. 271-274 of his book The Non-existence of God. In general, however, recent atheist writers have focused on the more recent theistic arguments, such as those by Alvin Plantinga, Richard Swinburne, William Alston, William Lane Craig, J.P. Moreland, Robert M. Adams, Peter Van Inwagen, and others. This is too bad since Thomism remains a respectable tradition with many knowledgeable and articulate supporters. BTW, in teaching my history of philosophy class today, I still draw on Etienne Gilson’s little classic Reason and Revelation in the Middle Ages. Gilson’s writings were some of the most useful when I was studying theology and the history of philosophy at Emory University in the 1970’s.
My view of divine conservation is that it is rather plainly a gratuitous notion. Why would, say, an electron or a quark (considered fundamental particles in the Standard Model) need any help in remaining in existence? The idea seems very odd to me, like the idea of “vital force” to a modern biologist. We know that highly respectable biologists of the past, like Louis Pasteur, adhered to the doctrine of vital forces, but it eventually was discarded as non-explanatory. Similarly, I have to ask what explanatory work is done by the principle of divine conservation. What legitimate questions does it answer? Is there anything missing from an electron that would have to be filled in or supplied from outside?
There is nothing in our physical theories that indicates such a lack. Of course, there is the famous “measurement problem” of quantum mechanics. The dynamic properties of quanta have no specific value—but are represented as a superposition of possible values—prior to measurement. Still, whatever solution to the measurement problem we favor, I do take it that most scientific realists (like me) hold that quarks and electrons do objectively exist “out there” independently of us. As Ian Hacking notes, in many ways subatomic particles can be used and manipulated like other things. We can store them, shoot them, block them with barriers, and achieve all sorts of effects (some quite horrible) with them. As Hacking once said “If you can spray them, they are real!” I would say that if you can vaporize cities with them they are real.
Back to the point: It is, of course, not an argument against divine conservation that I express incredulity towards the idea. It seems an obviously dubious notion to me, but, of course, assertions of obviousness always do carry that “to me” rider, and so are not polemically potent to those for whom it is not obvious. But such statements do serve to state where we stand at the start of a discussion. Those who begin a discussion with very different priors (as you and I do) will diverge greatly on what seems plain or obvious. All we can do is state things as we see them and invite our interlocutors to supply reasons for seeing things otherwise. So, that is what I am doing here. I conclude, then, by putting the question to you:
Why does an electron, or any other fundamental physical entity, need divine aid to continue in existence?

bookmark_borderAnswering Prof. Feser

I hope you don’t mind first names. Informality is conducive to comity, and after the unpleasant brouhaha last week, I think you and I both want a civil exchange rather than one that should be titled “Philosophers Acting Badly.”
Here are the questions you asked:

1. You said that I ignore the strongest claims of my opponents and focus only on weaker ones. Could you please give a specific example of some strong argument that I have ignored?
2. Could you tell us where in your writings or in someone else’s that we can find what you take to be the strongest criticisms of the Scholastic arguments for the doctrine of divine conservation?
3. Is your fellow Secular Outpost blogger Jeffery Jay Lowder wrong to think that the “Everything has a cause” version of the First Cause argument is a straw man that atheists shouldn’t waste time attacking? If he is wrong, can you give us any examples of philosophers who have defended that argument?
4. Could you tell us where to find a good justification for your claim that theistic philosophers in general think of God as a “brute fact,” or are at least implicitly committed to the claim that he is a “brute fact”?

I will address the first of these today and the others over the week.
I admit that when I first saw your first question, my initial reaction was “What the BLEEP?” Since had never written anything in response t0 you, I did not know what exactly you were referring to. Then I recalled a conversation the previous day with Mr. Chad Handley in which I said the following:
“Unlike Prof. Feser, I would like to address the strongest claims of my opponents, and not those that seem weakest to me.”
This is the passage that prompted your first question, isn’t it?
The context for my remark—which I will say right up front was rather rude and thoughtless—was two previous posts by Jeff Lowder the day before. In these posts (q.v.) Jeff criticizes you and other writers for focusing too much on the “New Atheists” and not enough on the arguments of the best atheist philosophers. He also claimed that, at times anyway, you tend to tar us atheists with the same brush, as though we all endorse all of the NA’s arguments (I don’t but, as I argue in other posts, I think some of their arguments, with a bit of work, can be made strong).
That was the context of my above remark. I was agreeing with Jeff that really at this point no more time needs to be devoted to Dawkins, Harris, etc. Though, as I say, I do not think that all their arguments are bad, I do think that there are much, much bigger fish that need frying. I did not mean to imply that you had never, ever addressed any of the arguments that I think are strongest. Perhaps you have. Here, in my opinion, are ten of the strongest atheist critiques:
The Non-existence of God, by Nicholas Everitt
The Wisdom to Doubt, by J.L. Schellenberg
Objecting to God, by Colin Howson
Arguing about Gods, by Graham Oppy
God in an Age of Science, by Herman Philipse
Logic and Theism, by Jordan Howard Sobel
Arguing for Atheism, by Robin Le Poidevin
On the Nature and Existence of God, by Richard Gale
Nonbelief and Evil, by Theodore Drange
A Physicalist Manifesto by Andrew Melnyk
The last is not a critique of theism, per se, but is a comprehensive defense of physicalism, including, in my opinion, a very cogent defense of physicalism with respect to mind.
So, Ed, if you have addressed all or even half of these, my hat is off to you and you have my sincere admiration for taking on the best.
The upshot is that my remark was thoughtless, clumsy, and ill-advised. I do apologize for it. I do, however, think that Jeff had a point, and it was that point I was trying to reinforce in my remark to Mr. Hadley. Are we OK on this point now, and should we pass onto other, more fruitful, topics?

bookmark_borderPlantinga on the Alleged “Irrationality” of Atheism

Alvin Plantinga
I want to comment on Gary Gutting’s recent interview of Alvin Plantinga in the New York Times. Unless otherwise indicated, the quotations are quotations of Plantinga.

Still, that’s not nearly sufficient for atheism. In the British newspaper The Independent, the scientist Richard Dawkins was recently asked the following question: “If you died and arrived at the gates of heaven, what would you say to God to justify your lifelong atheism?” His response: “I’d quote Bertrand Russell: ‘Not enough evidence, God! Not enough evidence!’” But lack of evidence, if indeed evidence is lacking, is no grounds for atheism. No one thinks there is good evidence for the proposition that there are an even number of stars; but also, no one thinks the right conclusion to draw is that there are an uneven number of stars. The right conclusion would instead be agnosticism.
In the same way, the failure of the theistic arguments, if indeed they do fail, might conceivably be good grounds for agnosticism, but not for atheism. Atheism, like even-star-ism, would presumably be the sort of belief you can hold rationally only if you have strong arguments or evidence.

1. Unlike some people who identify as atheists, I’m fine with joining Plantinga in defining atheism as the belief that there is no God. Notice, however, that there is an equivocation or, at least, a sort of ‘translation error’ here on Plantinga’s part. What Plantinga seems to forget is that many of the people who identify as atheists don’t use the definition of atheism Plantinga (and I) do; they define atheism as merely the lack of belief that God exists. As such, they are precisely what Plantinga would call an agnostic. So when those people say “the lack of evidence for theism is justification for atheism,” they are NOT saying “the lack of evidence for God’s existence is evidence against God’s existence.” Rather, they are are saying, “the lack of evidence for God’s existence is justification for lacking the belief that God exists.”
2. On the other hand, there are some atheists who indeed do argue that the lack of evidence for God’s existence is evidence against God’s existence. Atheist philosopher Theodore Drange calls that argument the “lack of evidence argument” (LEA). Drange has refuted that argument; I join both Plantinga and Drange in rejecting it.
3. While I agree that atheism (the belief that God does not exist version) does have a burden of proof, atheism doesn’t have nearly the same burden of proof as theism. Why? Because theism has a lower prior probability than naturalism and naturalism entails atheism. This contradicts Plantinga’s claim, “Atheism, like even-star-ism, would presumably be the sort of belief you can hold rationally only if you have strong arguments or evidence” (my italics).

The so-called “problem of evil” would presumably be the strongest (and maybe the only) evidence against theism. It does indeed have some strength; it makes sense to think that the probability of theism, given the existence of all the suffering and evil our world contains, is fairly low. But of course there are also arguments for theism. Indeed, there are at least a couple of dozen good theistic arguments. So the atheist would have to try to synthesize and balance the probabilities. This isn’t at all easy to do, but it’s pretty obvious that the result wouldn’t anywhere nearly support straight-out atheism as opposed to agnosticism. (emphasis mine)

1. The text I have italicized and boldfaced is ridiculous. His “two dozen or so” theistic arguments, philosophically speaking, consist of practically everything but the kitchen sink as evidence for theism. When it comes to arguments for atheism, however, he writes as if the argument from evil is the only argument for atheism (or, at least, the only argument for atheism that provides evidence against theism.) This reeks of a double standard. Plantinga knows very well that atheists have offered serious arguments for naturalism (which entails atheism), including the argument from nonculpable nonbelief (aka “divine hiddenness”), the evidential argument from biological evolution, and the evidential argument from mind-brain dependence. Once we consider the total evidence, it’s far from obvious that it ‘nearly supports straight-out theism as opposed to agnosticism.’
2. Indeed, this paragraph is notable for the fact that it refers to one or more arguments which commit the fallacy of understated evidence. By way of review: in the context of arguments for theism and against naturalism, proponents of a theistic argument are guilty of this fallacy if they “successfully identify some general fact F about a topic X that is antecedently more likely on theism than on naturalism, but ignore other more specific facts about X, facts that, given F, are more likely on naturalism than on theism.” (More on that in a moment.)

I should make clear first that I don’t think arguments are needed for rational belief in God. In this regard belief in God is like belief in other minds, or belief in the past. Belief in God is grounded in experience, or in the sensus divinitatis, John Calvin’s term for an inborn inclination to form beliefs about God in a wide variety of circumstances.

1. As Paul Draper has argued, “if theism does make it likely that some human beings have a properly functioning sensus divinitatis, then it makes it likely that everyone has one or at least that everyone who is not resistant to belief in God has one, which, pace John Calvin, is not what we observe.”
2. Furthermore, as Draper goes on to point out,

… the cognitive science of religion is not wholly supportive of Plantinga’s position. Human beings instinctively believe in all sorts of invisible agents, not just in gods and certainly not just in a single creator-God let alone the specific creator-God of metaphysical theism. So we seem to have a broad sensus actoris instead of a narrow sensus divinitatis. (Cognitive scientists sometimes use the term “hyperactive agency detector,” which sounds so much less impressive than a “sensus divinitatis.”) …

3. As Keith Parsons has argued, the non-existence of the sensus divinitatis is evidence for the non-existence of God.

My argument is simple. I think that Alvin Plantinga is right. If God exists, humans will very likely possess a sensus divinitatis, a God-detecting faculty, which, when functioning properly and in the appropriate circumstances, will present us with warrant-basic (both warranted and epistemologically basic) awareness of his existence. If this is so, and if God does exist, then humans, provided that their sinfulness has not impaired the proper functioning of their sensus, will have a warrant-basic awareness of God’s existence. On the other hand, if there is no God, it is extremely unlikely that humans would possess a cognitive faculty that would produce the warranted (but false) belief that God exists. In this case, evidence that belief in God is not caused by a warrant-conferring cognitive faculty, but rather is generated by a noncognitive process that does not confer warrant on that belief, will, ipso facto, constitute evidence against the existence of God. An atheological argument can therefore be set out semi-formally like this:
1) If God exists, then humans very likely possess a sensus divinitatis, a cognitive faculty which, when functioning properly and in the appropriate circumstances, produces the warrant-basic belief that God exists.
2) If there is no sensus divinitatis, then God probably does not exist, unless the background probability of his existence is very high.
3) It is not the case that the background probability of God’s existence is very high.
4) There is no sensus divinitatis.
5) Therefore, God probably does not exist.

Let’s move on and return to quoting Plantinga.

One presently rather popular argument: fine-tuning. Scientists tell us that there are many properties our universe displays such that if they were even slightly different from what they are in fact, life, or at least our kind of life, would not be possible. The universe seems to be fine-tuned for life. For example, if the force of the Big Bang had been different by one part in 10 to the 60th, life of our sort would not have been possible. The same goes for the ratio of the gravitational force to the force driving the expansion of the universe: If it had been even slightly different, our kind of life would not have been possible. In fact the universe seems to be fine-tuned, not just for life, but for intelligent life. This fine-tuning is vastly more likely given theism than given atheism.

This would be exhibit A of the fallacy of understated evidence in Plantinga’s interview. For the sake of argument, let’s grant that cosmological fine-tuning is evidence for theism over naturalism (and hence atheism). Given that the universe is fine-tuned, however, there are three more specific facts which favor naturalism over theism. First, the only intelligent life we know of is human and it exists in this universe. As Paul Draper explains:

“while it may be true that on single-universe naturalism the existence of anything as impressive as human beings is very unlikely, it is also true that on theism the existence of intelligent beings as unimpressive and flawed as humans is very unlikely. Further, given that human beings do exist, it is certain on single-universe naturalism, but not on theism, that they exist in this universe (i.e., in the one universe that we know to exist).”

Second, intelligent life is the result of evolutionGiven that intelligent life of some sort exists in some universe, the fact that it developed as a result of biological evolution is more probable on naturalism than on it is on theism.
Third, so much of the universe is hostile to lifeGiven that intelligent life of some sort exists in some universe, the fact that so much of our universe is highly hostile to life–such as containing vast amounts of empty space, temperatures near absolute zero, cosmic radiation, and so forth–is more probable on naturalism than it is on theism.
The upshot is this. Even if the general fact of cosmic “fine-tuning” is more probable on the assumption that theism is true than on the assumption that naturalism is true, there are other, more specific facts about cosmic “fine-tuning,” facts that, given cosmic “fine-tuning,” are more likely on naturalism than on theism. Once all of the evidence about cosmic “fine-tuning” has been fully stated, it’s far from obvious that facts about cosmic “fine-tuning” favor theism over naturalism.

Some atheists seem to think that a sufficient reason for atheism is the fact (as they say) that we no longer need God to explain natural phenomena — lightning and thunder for example. We now have science.
As a justification of atheism, this is pretty lame. We no longer need the moon to explain or account for lunacy; it hardly follows that belief in the nonexistence of the moon (a-moonism?) is justified. A-moonism on this ground would be sensible only if the sole ground for belief in the existence of the moon was its explanatory power with respect to lunacy. (And even so, the justified attitude would be agnosticism with respect to the moon, not a-moonism.) The same thing goes with belief in God: Atheism on this sort of basis would be justified only if the explanatory power of theism were the only reason for belief in God. And even then, agnosticism would be the justified attitude, not atheism.

What is lame is Plantinga’s rather uncharitable representation of the evidential argument from the history of science. The explanatory success of non-lunar explanations for lunacy is not greater (or, at least, not significantly greater) on the assumption that a-moonism is true than on the assumption that moonism true. In contrast, the explanatory success of naturalistic explanations is antecedently more likely on naturalism than on theism.

Thomas Nagel, a terrific philosopher and an unusually perceptive atheist, says he simply doesn’t want there to be any such person as God. And it isn’t hard to see why. For one thing, there would be what some would think was an intolerable invasion of privacy: God would know my every thought long before I thought it. For another, my actions and even my thoughts would be a constant subject of judgment and evaluation.

1. This ignores the evidence from the testimony of other atheists, including myself, who say that they wish that theism were true.
2. Even with Nagel, his hope that atheism is true doesn’t entail or make probable that his reasons for atheism are wrong. Consider an analogy. A Holocaust survivor hopes that what the Nazis did was morally wrong, but no one would argue that the Holocaust survivor is incorrect simply because they hoped that the Nazis were morally wrong.
3. It gets worse. To see why, let’s do a thought experiment. Suppose you are arrested, put on trial, convicted for a crime you did commit, and are sentenced to prison. You probably wouldn’t say to yourself, “Well, I don’t want to live as if I am going to prison, so I’m going to invent a bunch of arguments in order to justify the belief that I am not going to prison.” While it’s possible that someone might do that, probably virtually everyone would accept the reality that they are going to prison. To be sure, they might complain about things (such as the fairness of the law, the judge, or the sentence), but they wouldn’t deny the reality that they were going to prison.
4. Besides, Plantinga’s dismissive attitude towards the reasons why atheists are atheists just assumes that all atheists want to “live as if God does not exist” and that desire outweighs any other desires atheists might have. So far as I can tell, that assumption is false. First, though I don’t have the data to back this up, I suspect that even most atheists wish that some sort of life after death is true. (They may not want to live forever and they may want a different kind of afterlife than the one offered by Christianity, but that’s beside the point.) And any sane, rational person desires to avoid torture, especially eternal torture in Hell. It’s not obvious why anyone should think that those desires would always be outweighed by the desire to “live as if God does not exist.”

Evolution will have resulted in our having beliefs that are adaptive; that is, beliefs that cause adaptive actions. But as we’ve seen, if materialism is true, the belief does not cause the adaptive action by way of its content: It causes that action by way of its neurophysiological properties. Hence it doesn’t matter what the content of the belief is, and it doesn’t matter whether that content is true or false. All that’s required is that the belief have the right neurophysiologicalproperties. If it’s also true, that’s fine; but if false, that’s equally fine.
Evolution will select for belief-producing processes that produce beliefs with adaptive neurophysiological properties, but not for belief-producing processes that produce true beliefs. Given materialism and evolution, any particular belief is as likely to be false as true.

This is Plantinga’s well-known “Evolutionary Argument Against Naturalism” (EAAN).
1. The basic problem with the argument is that it’s false that “Given materialism and evolution, any particular belief is as likely to be false as true.” Rather, as Draper pointed out in his debate with Plantinga, “More generally, the long term survival of our species is much more to be expected if our cognitive faculties are reliable than if they are unreliable, and that entails that the long term survival of our species is strong evidence for R.”
2. Furthermore, “In addition, it is very unlikely that belief-producing mechanisms that do not track the truth would systematically promote survival in a very diverse and often rapidly changing environment.”

bookmark_borderTheism, Naturalism, and the Total Evidence: Torley’s Reply to Me

About a year ago, I commented on the exchange between John Loftus and Vincent Torley. Torley has just posted his reply at Uncommon Descent. Check it out!
I hope to write a reply eventually, but it may be a couple of months before I am able to do so.