A Question of Order

This is part 2 of a 10 part series. The introduction can be found here, and the prior post can be found here. I will add two more blog responders at this point in the discussion. They are from:

• Faithlessgod
• Db0 (Konstantine) & Anath

The next question relates to the kind of universe that was produced by the creation event discussed in the first question.

2. Order

The past several decades have added profoundly to our knowledge of chemistry, physics, and cosmology. It has become increasingly clear that we live in a universe finely tuned for the support of complex life. This fact is so universally acknowledged that even secular scientists have coined the term "Anthropic Principle" to describe it.
How is it that we live in such an exquisitely fine-tuned universe? Even assuming that the universe could have popped out of nothingness, why should it have been such an orderly and hospitable one? Is there a scientific, testable answer for this question that does not simply appeal to imagination?

Faithlessgod offers this objection to the very idea of fine-tuning:

I disagree with Pruett's supposition here, it certainly does not look like an orderly and hospitable universe, since as far we can tell the range where the type of life we know could occur and survive is an incredibly minute portion of the universe.

Randall says it this way:

I don't think the universe is fine tuned for life at all. As far as we know there is only one planet in this one little solar system that can sustain complex life.... most of what's out there is space.

I wouldn't expect to have to go into great detail on this, since it has already been so heavily addressed by cosmologists. Those like Barrow & Tipler, Rees, Davies, Susskind, Bostrom, Smolin, and others have written volumes on this issue. The fine-tuning of the laws of physics (or Anthropic Coincidences) that permit the support of life in the universe is largely undisputed data. It is the conclusions drawn from that data where the true controversy lies.

Since there appears to be a misunderstanding of what I mean by finely tuned for the support of complex life I'll try to clarify the point. I do not simply mean that our own little planet happens to be hospitable to us, and I don't mean that the whole universe is a tropical paradise. I mean that the very laws of physics make things like galaxies, stars, and warm little planets possible at all.

Just two examples:

1) The electrostatic force repels protons (each being positively charged) while the strong nuclear force binds them together. The strong force is stronger than the electrostatic force, but only at short range, while the electrostatic force dominates at larger range. So, in order for nuclear fusion to occur, as it does in stars, there must be a certain amount of energy applied to propel one proton against another in order for it to overcome the electrostatic charge and stick via the strong force. I liken it to putting superglue on two plus-ended magnets and then forcing them together.

Since the universe originally consisted almost entirely of hydrogen, we would not have the abundance of heavier elements if it were not for the ability of stars to fuse atoms (and then spew them out in explosions). But if the strong force were too strong or the electrostatic force too weak, then fusion would be too efficient. Matter would more easily ignite and we would have fewer planets and more stars. Stars would burn out much faster and the lighter elements (being just as desirable as the heavier ones for molecule building) would be quickly depleted. Conversely, if the strong force were weaker or the electrostatic force stronger, then we would have fewer and larger stars, and less of the heavy elements. In fact, if fusion were too inefficient, then the large masses that might otherwise form stars could actually collapse into black holes before they would even have a chance to ignite.

2) The quantity, expansion rate, and distribution of the material of the primordial universe all have a part in determining the nature of its resulting cosmology. If there were not such a mysteriously large imbalance of matter over anti-matter, we would not have the material to form cosmological structures. Various factors seem to work together (e.g., inflation rate and dark energy) to determine the expansion of the universe. Minute differences in these factors would affect a number of things, including whether the universe recollapsed upon itself before anything interesting could be produced or whether it expanded too rapidly for the material to coalesce into structures like galaxies and stars.

It seems to me that a universe that survives its genesis, forms complex structures, and supports the generation and assembly of complex, diverse molecules is something we might even objectively value over a hiccup universe, or one that was filled with nothing but diffuse hydrogen gas. And even though there are more empty, hot, or cold places in the overall universe than there are just-right stars and just-right planets, it takes this kind of universe to be able to support such things.

If I were to accept the substance of Faithlessgod and Randall's complaint, I might just as well say that even our planet is not so great for humans because of all the hot, frigid, or wet places it contains. All these are either necessary for a life-sustaining climate/ecology (like an abundance of water) or they are simply byproducts of physics and geometry (like cold polar regions).

Tremblay takes issue with the idea that the Anthropic Principle has any relationship to the fine-tuning point that I raise:

LifeWay apparently does not know what the anthropic principle actually is. The anthropic principle does not support the fine-tuning argument at all. What the anthropic principle actually says is this: we live in a universe compatible with our own existence.

Yes, "LifeWay" understands the Anthropic Principle and its various permutations, such as the Weak Anthropic Principle (WAP), which will be discussed later. The very fact that there are even flavors of it is witness to my point that there is something of interest being discussed in the scientific community.

Of course the materialist would think the fine-tuning question does not support the role of a designer (else he would not be a materialist), but the Anthropic Principle is certainly born of the observation that the Anthropic Coincidences are necessary to the existence of observers. If the Anthropic Principle were nothing more than a tautological statement, like saying that coldwater fish are found in cold water, then I would not expect to find so many physicists and cosmologists writing books for the purpose of wrestling with its implications. Why try to explain away or rationalize an entirely meaningless observation?

A common rejoinder I've heard is that we shouldn't be so presumptuous as to think the universe is designed for us; it might have been some different way that would result in another species asking the same question. Self offers a form of this argument as follows:

To say the universe was fine-tuned just to permit life is backwards; what is more nearly true is that life is fine tuned to exist in the universe as it is today.

Anath makes the point this way:

It's like claiming your life is somehow miraculous and special because YOU were the specific result of your parent's copulation. Had a different sperm reached the egg first, or had something interrupted your parents before transfer that particular time, a totally different person would be saying the EXACT same thing.

It should be understood that I am not simply arguing for an egocentric view that the universe is fine tuned for humans or even for "life as we know it." If some member of a nebular squid species were to ask the same question, then I would grant his right to do so, because the Anthropic Coincidences would apply equally to him. I am arguing that the laws of physics are fine tuned for the support of life of any kind, which depends upon things like a universe, diverse materials, and the ability to form complex chemical structures.

Since there are so many other ways that the universe might have been that would not support life, stars, or even a persistent universe, and if there is anything noteworthy about complex, sentient, biochemical systems, then it seems that the least we can say is that this kind of universe is remarkably improbable.

At this point I have often heard the comment made: "Well, you wouldn't be here to wonder about it if it hadn't happened!" This is a hackneyed paraphrase of the Weak Anthropic Principle (WAP). To all my responders credit, I didn't see this voiced (in so many words). However, I think it is worth addressing, which I will do by simply paraphrasing the Swinburne/Leslie parable:

Suppose you are dragged before a firing squad. There are 100 trained marksmen all intent upon your demise. The command to fire is given. The guns blaze, but a moment later you discover that you are still alive, untouched by the bullets. You laugh out loud and marvel at your good fortune, but an annoyed captain of the guard simply growls at you, "There's nothing remarkable here, fool. You wouldn't be alive to remark about it if hadn't happened." And then he executes you himself with his own sword.

Even if the captain had killed you before you could ask the question, "How did I survive that?" it still would be legitimate for some observer to ask it. The WAP seeks to negate the observer's question by depending upon his existence. If he exists, he can't ask the question because he wouldn't be here to ask it otherwise. If he weren't here, then there's no one to ask questions so the problem is forfeit. It seems a hollow victory for the materialist to win on a technicality, but surely it is a more remarkable thing to have observers who ask questions than to have cold, dead space. I guess it is like a 3D stereogram. You either see it or you don't.

Faithlessgod goes on to raise a good point about other possible universes:

We have no idea what type of universes could occur with different constants, only that they would be radically different from ours, but this tells us nothing about whether the equivalent of life is more or less likely in those other universes.

The Anthropic Coincidences applicable to this universe suggest that of the kind of laws and materials that we are dealt, this particular arrangement adds up to something special. Perhaps some other dramatically different mix could add up to a recipe for success, but that would be another island in a vast sea of improbability as well.

To use a card analogy, which one of my responders employed, our universe's order may be compared to throwing a deck of cards up in the air and having them all come down in neat, numerically sequenced stacks by suit. There are certainly a large number of other ordered ways that the cards may come down, like numerically sequenced stacks of four-of-a-kinds, but they would be no less probable than the nearly infinite number of other chaotic arrangements that might result.

And to suggest that other radically different universes might help us here is to suggest that there might be a way that any old arrangement of its materials would yield order. This is like saying that in another universe made of dice instead of cards, that most rolls of the dice will come up all sixes, or in stacks. Perhaps there could be some universe where the laws are so rudimentary that there's no possible "variation," or any variation would yield the same assembly capability, but even that kind of universe surely would be less probable than all the other more dependent kinds, like the one we happen to occupy.

Interestingly, Tremblay makes an objection that would call this into question:

Implicit in this argument is the belief that the parameters of the universe could take any quantity. . . .

Just because we can imagine the gravitational constant being, not 6.674×10^-11 m^3 kg^-1 s^-2, but rather 6.252×10^-11 m^3 kg^-1 s^-2, does not mean that it can actually be 6.252×10^-11 m^3 kg^-1 s^-2. Just because we can write it down and make calculations based on it doesn’t mean it’s actually possible.

This is certainly a valid argument, but why think that the values could not be different? What meta-laws exist to constrain the amount of matter over anti-matter or the expansion dynamics entailed in the Big Bang? Even if the laws and events inherent in this universe where somehow necessary or predetermined, then this only pushes the question back a level. Why should the "necessary" laws be so remarkably configured? Why would the brute laws of physics have to favor order? How very fortuitous!

A popular theory among cosmologists involves the idea that we exist in just one of a number of bubble universes. While I will not attempt to psychoanalyze the motivation for such a theory, I will note that I have usually seen the theory employed as a response to the Anthropic Coincidences. As the argument goes, we just happen to live in a jackpot universe that is just right for life. Unlike Tremblay, these cosmologists don't seem to have a problem with the idea that the universe-barfing device may have different settings. Nor do they seem to agree with those who argue that there just isn't anything special to be explained or they would not make appeal to infinite universes for that explanation.

Tremblay closes with this conversation stopper:

As for the question "why should [the universe] have been such an orderly and hospitable one?", it should be obvious that the use of "why" presupposes teleology, and therefore a Creator. So this question is entirely circular. There is no purpose for the universe to be the way it is, any more than there is a purpose for the sky to be blue instead of green. We can explain how it came to be hospitable, or how the sky gets to be blue, but there is no "why."

Perhaps we should break the news to those like cosmologists Bernard Carr and Martin Rees, who once stated in the journal Nature, "Nature does exhibit remarkable coincidences and these do warrant some explanation." Perhaps we should simply think of them as philosophically naïve to require explanations, but it seems to me that science is all about the "whys."

Tremblay suggests that explanations should extend only to the reason for the physical condition (like, the sky is blue because of short wavelength light diffusion), but not to any deeper meanings (like, why should physics have to work in such a way that it yields lovely blue skies?). Perhaps this is a good rule of thumb for science proper, but it is a castration of the human spirit, which, for some strange reason always wants to go the extra mile in its understanding.

Materialists would apparently say to us, "Just get over it! There's no meaning to this or any other aspect of existence. Everything just is what it is." For my point in question, this means that even if it actually is the case that the universe is fine tuned for complex life (of any kind), and it is a genuine statistical improbability, then we are disqualified from having stray thoughts of wonder because they presume something to wonder about that does not exist: teleology (purpose/design/meaning).

It is true that this, and many of my questions, depend upon teleology. In fact, teleology is part-and-parcel to the worldview I am advocating. But surely teleology cannot be ruled out a priori any more than we could meaninglessness. I might just as well claim, "the atheist can't say the universe just is what it is, because that's a circular argument: it presupposes that there actually is no meaning to the universe." How, then, is one to demonstrate the need of a designer if one cannot point to anything as evidence merely and precisely because it supports his thesis!

A Question of Cosmic Origins

This is part 1 of a 10 part series. The introduction can be found here.

The first topic relates to the great historical question of origins and trades on concepts found in the Cosmological Argument for the existence of God.

1. Creation

The overwhelming consensus of science is that the entire cosmos (including space and time) came into existence at a finite point in the past. All of our observations, equations, and physical laws testify to a point of origin for this universe.

In light of the troubling evidence for a beginning, and that we may not even be able to find a natural cause in principle, what explanation is given to the questions, "Why is there something rather than nothing?" and "Where did it all come from?"

Francois Tremblay proceeds to take issue primarily with the logical composition of my question.

Asking "why is there something rather than nothing" is a fallacious question since "is" implies existence and "nothing" implies non-existence. It's a question that Christians like to ask because it's by definition unanswerable, not because atheists have no ready answer but because the question itself is contradictory.

Roderick T. Long further elaborates the objection.

It makes no sense to ask for an explanation of the whole of existence – whether that whole includes a God or not. Any attempt to explain existence has to appeal either to something in existence or something not in existence. If it appeals to something that’s already in existence (be it God, quarks, or whatever you like), then you’re not explaining all of existence; and if it appeals to something not in existence, then you’ve offered no explanation at all.

My point was not to ask a trick question, but to seek a reaction to the fact that this universe gives evidence of a beginning. When I speak of something and nothing I am speaking from the materialist's perspective. Of course, as a theist, I believe that "something" has always existed; I have a "first cause" or "prime mover."

Long basically understands this, as he continues:

The concept of explanation applies only within the realm of existence; that’s why both theists and atheists agree that chains of explanation stop with something whose existence has (and needs) no explanation beyond itself – whether it’s God or energy.

This is a good observation, and actually is the kernel of the response I would make to George Self when he asks, "If a xian wants to take the beginnings back to some god that made it all, I would ask, 'but who made god?'" Something has to eternally exist or there would be nothing right now. Something cannot come from nothing. We suggest that this something is God, whose very definition includes the idea of self-existence and eternality. If the atheist will not allow an eternal God to stand as an acceptable first cause, even in theory, then the atheist has no grounds to lean upon an eternal universe (or energy) either.

The problem that I point out with this question is that even if it might be conceptually possible to have an eternal universe (which I could argue against as well), by all indications this one had a beginning. I am not asking for an explanation for the universe, which might lead to the counter-question of why there is a God; I am asking the atheist what he (or she) does with the evidence for an origin to the universe.

Alison Randall takes (in my mind) the sensible position that "nothing does not and has never existed . . . because you can't have anything come into existence from nothing."{1} This serves to underscore the problem of our current observation that all space, time, matter, and energy burst onto the scene at a finite point in history. If it can ever be said to have come from "nothing," or no prior state can be identified, then materialism will have hit a dead end in one of its most important avenues of justification.

Randall then goes on to postulate that "everything always existed . . . as a dense singularity of energy-matter." Here's where we could get into an arcane scientific discussion and I could ask things like, how "infinitely small" (as the singularity is often described) is distinguishable from "nothing," how something natural could exist prior to the space-time continuum in which existence is defined, and why a gravity well isn't happy eternally staying that way.

But I don't need to go here, because there is not even agreement on the idea of the origin of the singularity. For instance, inflationary theory, which is the prevailing big bang model, says that the singularity was generated by something like a "quantum fluctuation." Membrane theory doesn't even have a place for a singularity, and one of its advantages is the very fact that it doesn't have to wrestle with the difficulties associated with one. As this physics article explains about one of the big bang models that require a singularity,

The problem with the Big Crunch/Big Bang model is that the mathematical laws of classical general relativity do not work at a singularity. And if scientists cannot mathematically understand the singularity, they cannot, in theory, fully understand the geometry of spacetime, either before the Big Crunch or after the Big Bang.

Randall continues her response:

I don't pretend to know a lot about it, but [the Singularity/Big Bang model] seems to be one of the best explanations we have right now, along with other ideas . . . like string theory, multiverses, and such.

Umm, which theory was it that is the "best explanation?" She lists these other things because there is NOT an explanation right now, only theories, else we wouldn't have other contenders vying for dominance. I think Randall knows this, but she adds this parting shot to show where her preferences lie:

The theories that are made from observable evidence are a lot more juicy and intriguing than ancient mythologies.

Unfortunately, the only observations and evidences we have say nothing more than that there was a beginning to this universe. There are not so much theories made from observable evidence as there are only theories seeking evidences as to how that happened by "natural" means. This is exactly why there is so much excitement over things like the Large Hadron Collider and Planck satellite, which are hoped to offer supporting evidence for one or another idea (though how we can prove the nature and events of something "outside" this universe using observations born of the laws contained within it I do not know).{2}

The bottom line is that there's really not an explanation for the origin of the universe, and naturalistic explanations are simply occasions to engage in sci-fi narratives. As Leon Lederman (Nobel Prize winner in physics) says in his book, The God Particle:

A story logically begins at the beginning. But this story is about the universe and unfortunately there are no data for the very beginning. None, zero! We don't know anything about the universe until it reaches the mature age of a billionth of a trillionth of a second — that is, some very short time after the creation in the Big Bang. When you read or hear anything about the birth of the universe, someone is making it up. We are in the realm of philosophy.

This is where the discussion must ultimately end. As George Self concludes, "I'm quite comfortable saying, 'I don't know, and neither does anyone else.'" And one blog commenter summed up the responses by saying, "I don't know, but science is looking into it."

Fine. That is an honest and somewhat acceptable answer. Every worldview must be permitted some mysteries. But if this is a satisfactory response for all the intractable problems of materialism, then atheists shall forever be free to think themselves rational, since science will always be "looking into it." However, I doubt they would be so kind as to allow us to reply to their tough questions with, "I don't know, but our theologians are looking into it."

Without overstating my case, it seems reasonable to say that evidence for a beginning to this universe is at least problematic for materialistic atheism. And even while atheists can avoid a proof for God by eternally leaving the question open to scientific investigation, we should be able to say that a cosmic origin is at least consistent with theism, particularly classical Christian theism.{3}

After offering his shrug to the problem of cosmic origins, Self adds this addendum:

Even if I wanted to assume that time had a beginning at some point in the distant past that still does not prove that the xian "god" created that point. Perhaps the cosmos was started by a unicorn or a magic genie.

Unfortunately, this does not at all avoid the problem for the atheist. A magic genie or unicorn with the power and knowledge to create our universe would still be a god, for all practical purposes. What Self does do is touch on the fact that the Cosmological Argument is limited in the work that it can accomplish. Even if the atheist were to concede the need of a creator, it is another thing to demonstrate the nature of that creator. For this reason, the Cosmological Argument can never be more than an argument for theism in general{4}, and must work in conjunction with other arguments to arrive at the God of Christian theism.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes:

1. There are some who disagree with Alison and are bold enough to accept the premise that there once indeed was nothing. Dr. Peter W. Atkins (himself an atheist) holds that the "nothing" managed to split itself into the positively and negatively charged universe that we enjoy today. Tada! The Force stays in balance, since "nothing" has yielded a universe with a net charge of nothing, and may return to such in the future. It's all virtual nothingness with no gross explanation required. It all sounds rather artful as a high level theory, but explaining exactly how "nothing" managed to send itself on an extended holiday is where it begins to unravel.
2. I might conversely say to Randall, "Theories with a long philosophical pedigree are a lot more juicy and intriguing than ideas from sci-fi movies."
3. You can expect this to emerge as a recurring theme in each of my questions.
4. In fact, cosmological arguments have been in play since long before Christianity was founded.

Part 2 can be found here.

10 Replies to the Atheists

A while back I wrote the article, 10 Questions for the Atheist. It has elicited a number of responses since that time, particularly on some recent blogs. I thought it might be time to do a follow-up series to deal with replies to each "question" in my article. I'll proceed by taking each question in turn — one per post — and addressing some of the responses I've encountered.

I began the article with this statement:

Atheism, by definition, holds that there is no God and nothing beyond this world of matter, space, time, and energy. Consistent with this viewpoint come a large number of necessary truths and the problems relating to them. Atheism is not made rational merely by the rejection of the evidences for God; it has its own wares to sell and difficulties to overcome. Here is a sampling of the kinds of issues which atheism is obliged to address.

By this, I mean to point out that atheism is more than just a rejection of the God proposition. It is its own proposition. It makes its own worldview claim and is saddled with certain questions and mysteries that still emerge and must be answered in a way consistent with atheism. Theists are often charged with having a too-easy answer for life's mysteries: Goddunnit. Questions of origins, design, morality, and consciousness may be "conveniently" dispatched by appeal to the Deity, but they are left on the table for the atheist to address. And if the atheist has no solid answer to life's most compelling and fundamental questions, then exactly what is it that justifies atheism as a rational contender? Why believe atheism to be true apart from compelling answers to such questions? Why not be agnostic at most?

One atheist responds to my opening statement as follows:

We already have another word for that, it’s called "materialist." Atheists are not beholden to hold to any positive claim about whether there is something "beyond this world" (whatever that means exactly). There are atheists who believe in supernatural things like souls, ghosts, weird energies, and so on. So we have to assume that [the] whole set of questions here is not actually about atheists at all, but rather about materialists. (Francois Tremblay)

I will have to agree that "materialist" is probably a better word for what I describe here, and that this represents a subset of the "atheist" population. However, it is the largest subset, the most vocal, and in my mind it is what most reasonably follows from the concept of atheism. I am not, here, concerned with atheists who make room for spiritual elements, and apparently Tremblay does indeed know what I mean by "beyond this world," since he continues on to list several fine examples of otherworldly things, like souls and ghosts. It seems to me that if one is comfortable with the idea of immaterial beings, then there isn't any principled difficulty with the idea that one Being might be greater than us and precede even the material world that we inhabit.

Next I'll move on to my "questions." Each one is presented with a bit of contextual setup, followed by one or more actual questions to the atheist that relate to the topic. The setup is unfortunately brief, of necessity, but is itself food for discussion.

The responses I'll be addressing come from the following persons:

• Francois Tremblay
• Roderick T. Long
• Alison Randall (Hellbound Alleee)
• George Self

This is the introduction to a 10 part series. Part one can be found here.

Change We Can Be Leavin'

A coworker of mine (I'll call him "Jack") had a conversation with a family member ("Joe") over Christmas that went something like this.

Joe: "Who did you vote for?"

Jack: "McCain."

Joe: "Oh... You don't like Obama?"

Jack: "Why do you like him?"

Joe: "Because he's for change."

Jack: "Change, huh? Can you give me something specific that he wants to change, and can you tell me what he wants to change it to?"

[crickets chirping]

Now, I don't mean to suggest that an informed Democrat (or just Obama supporter) cannot give a meaningful reply to such a question, but I have indeed seen this kind of sweeping ignorance displayed — sometimes from high-level media or political figures — about the man Obama and his policy initiatives. I think also that there was an intentional campaign waged to ride the wave of excitement that optimistic, yet nebulous, slogans like "change" and "hope" could provide. If one does not define such words, then unsatisfied people are free to inject them with whatever meaning best suites their hopes and dreams. Obama proved himself to be a master of generalities in his campaign, and people have always been restless with their lot and disappointed with their leaders. There is no human utopia, though we ever seek to achieve it through "change." It was a winning strategy and Obama won fairly with it, though I like to think that our leadership should be called to a higher purpose than simply employing the best campaign tactics that money can buy.

Now, "change" is a fine word in the right circumstances if we are clear what this means. But at the Obama rallies the word itself seemed to carry the day, and the Democrats rarely condescended to get more specific than to imply that it was to be a departure from "the failed policies of the Bush administration." This is not enough. As my preteen son observed, "Gee, I guess communism would be a 'change,' wouldn't it?" As a sunny day may change to a rain shower, and a rain shower may change to a thunderstorm, "change" does not always equal "better."

Perhaps the response may be given that we are presently in a thunderstorm, and so any change is likely to be for the better. Well, that may be so, and that may be debated, but it suggests to me another observation I'd like to make here (and I'd like to credit Dennis Prager for the way he clarified this for me).

I have heard many of those on the Left, who most enthusiastically carry the banner of "change," complain that they are unjustly charged with being unpatriotic. "Patriotism can entail criticizing your country and its leadership," they will often say. First I will observe that I have heard their complaints far more than I have heard the charge actually leveled. In any case, let's think for a minute about what these champions of change are trying to say about their country.

Patriotism is generally defined as the love and devotion of one's country. But what does it mean for that love if one desires to "change" his country? In Obama's case, we're not talking about a little change here or there. As he has said numerous times, he wants to "fundamentally change America." But do you "change" what you claim to love? Imagine turning to your spouse and saying, "Honey, I sure do love you. However, I would be happier if I could fundamentally change you." If you try this, be sure to duck, and especially don't mention the gorgeous celebrity you'd like to change them into.

Do we really change what we love? Perhaps we might "fix," "heal," or "improve" what we love, but "fundamentally change" it? This sounds like someone who loves his country only because it is his country (like a college student roots loudest for the sports team of his own school), and then simply desires it to be something that suits his own imagination.

But it's not enough to want to change the current course of the country; the Left wants to go so far as to change its history and the vision of its founders as well. (You know, the founding fathers were all secular {or Deists at worst}, same-sex marriage and abortion are rights consistent with the spirit of the Constitution, and our finest hours were inspired by liberal-left ideals.) This way they can both say they want change, but also claim to be restoring the country to its original state.

Brilliant! Well played American Left, you've won the White House! If this were just an episode of the reality game show Survivor my hat would be off to you. But if the end one hopes to achieve has moral gravity, then the means one uses to achieve it should be morally prudent. It would be refreshing if we could be up front about our intentions and clear in our language so that the people could make truly informed decisions about its leadership.

I would think better of the Left if they'd just come right out and say they don't much like the country and the prudish, outdated sensibilities of its founders, and they want to craft a new one to suit their vision. This is very much the message they relay when they're not busy insisting otherwise. The problem is, that kind of honesty would alienate the majority of the voting public, who also rather like this country and are so optimistic as to imagine that ill-defined words like "change" can mean something good but fairly moderate, not really fundamental. And we mustn't frighten the voters.

So, Mr. President, if you are really serious about this business of fundamental change for the country, patterned after a Leftist ideology (which we have seen hints of all along), I suggest you slip it to those who believe in you slow and subtly. Otherwise a voting majority may wake up and conclude that yours is the kind of change we can be leavin'.

Ghost in the Machine

Sobbing, shaking and knowing death was imminent, [Nancy Reagan] held her husband's hand about 1 p.m. Saturday as he inhaled deeply and opened his eyes for the first time in five days.

While most thought Alzheimer's disease had robbed former President Reagan of all his memory, the last look he gave his wife was one of deep acknowledgment, [his daughter Patty Davis] writes for People magazine.

"At the last moment when his breathing told us this was it, he opened his eyes and looked straight at my mother. Eyes that had not opened for days did, and they weren't chalky or vague," Davis recalls. "They were clear and blue and full of life. If a death can be lovely, his was."

Davis and her brother Ron were standing next to their father's bed when the astonishing interchange between their parents took place.

(Source. Other sources.)

After Ronald Reagan's death I watched a television interview where Ron Jr. recounted this story himself. He was very emotional as he spoke, and it was clear that he believed that something profound had transpired. His father had apparently burst forth through a broken body to bid farewell to his beloved wife. This kind of story is not unique in my experience, but what makes it interesting is whom it is that is telling it here and how it fits into his overall view of human nature.

Ron Reagan Jr. is a self-described atheist. Consistent with, and common to, atheism is the philosophy of materialism. Materialism is the idea that all things that exist can be explained in purely material terms, and there are no entities such as gods, angels, or human souls which exist beyond the boundaries of the physical universe. This means that the "mind" is simply an emergent property of the physical brain — without a brain, there is no mind. It also implies that a malfunctioning brain will yield a malfunctioning mind. Given a materialistic outlook, how does an atheist like Ron Reagan process his father's last moments of life?

Alzheimer's is a degenerative disease, which affects the brain cells and the connections between them. A brain at the fatal end of this illness is a devastated organ from which an identifiable "mind" should not hope to emerge. In the case of Ronald Reagan, he had not even opened his eyes in days, and had not been alert for years before this. From where, then, does a clear-eyed Reagan suddenly surface?

At the very moment when his body was so far gone as to yield to death, Ronald Reagan became animated — himself again. If a body is broken, why does it not naturally and successively proceed from almost dead to actually dead? If we flatten the tires on a car, drain its oil, and pull half it spark plugs, do we expect it to have one last burst of blazing performance before it finally sputters and dies?

Perhaps it is like the runner, who after exhausting all resources at the end of the race finds in himself one final burst of speed for the finish line. But this is not an accurate analogy, because the racer does indeed have something left to give. He is simply very low on carbohydrates and is inhibited by the pain of lactic acid buildup in his muscles, which makes him pace himself to the end. In that last burst, he is drawing on the remainder of his resources but could not hope to continue long in this. To be an accurate analogy, we would first have to sever some tendons and break some bones. No matter how brave or determined one is he cannot get far or fast on broken legs.

The other problem with this analogy is that a runner can will to briefly overcome his fatigue. But here we are speaking about the very thing from which something like a will is supposed to originate: the brain. In the materialist paradigm there could be no Ronald "in there" to triumph over his failing brain — a brain so destroyed that it could no longer even support life itself.

So what happened that night: one final power surge resulting in the shutdown of a fragile system, or a man rising from his broken body to say farewell before passing on? Ron Reagan Jr's heart is urging the latter. But how can he maintain this as an atheist? As most atheists I'm sure that he thinks of himself as an eminently rational creature. But to be consistent, I think he must either give up his materialism or give up his sentimental notion that something extraordinary happened that Saturday afternoon.

The Financial Crisis - Who's Responsible?

I don't know much about economics, so this whole financial meltdown has not been easy to follow. It would be nice to understand the cause, but there is so much political spin surrounding the issue that it's difficult to trust either side. However, it does seem possible to make some good criticisms even if only on principle alone, and that is exactly how some are assessing blame.

Those on the Left, eager to cast blame on their opponents, have done so in two ways. First, they point out that this is a problem in lack of oversight and the Republicans are the party of deregulation. Second, they claim that Republicans have been the party in power for the last several years, so this happened on their watch. Let's take each of these ideas in turn.

Regulation

The first thing that should be noted is that "regulation" does not necessarily equal "good." Governmental agencies are monuments to regulation, but we almost universally view these things to be models of waste and inefficiency. Even so, one of the biggest financial headaches, Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, are regulated in a very profound way: they are underwritten by the government! If these organizations did not have such a safety net, then perhaps there would have been more caution in their policies. That certainly makes theoretical sense.

Additionally, as I understand it, there is some measure of oversight for these organizations. If we are to examine guiding principles in assessing blame, then we must determine whose principles would be most likely to lead to a relaxing of fiscally responsible standards in this governmental oversight. Since the Democratic Party is ostensibly the party of charity and compassion, would we not expect that it would seek to do everything in its power to get financial assistance to those who might otherwise not attain it? But granting loans to low-income persons exposes us to certain financial risks. Isn't a big part of the problem that we are saddled with the burden of high-risk loans that never should have been granted in the first place? Where might we be now if qualification for loans had been more difficult to come by, as those heartless Republicans would have it? But to some minds, being heartless and being responsible seem indistinguishable. It is a distinction that often needs to be made to children.

The Party in Power

It is always amusing (and frustrating) to see how blame is assessed based on who is or was in power. It seems to be a no-win situation. If your party is in power in the White House or Congress, then you can take credit for any good thing that comes to pass. But any bad thing can be blamed on the consequences of the last administration, or the fact that you don't control both the legislative and executive branches. So, all the failings of the current Democratic controlled Congress can be blamed either on the fallout of the prior years when it was controlled by the Republicans or on the president himself. But even when the issues in question can be immediately traced to the present term, there is still the option to blame the other party for blocking your efforts. That, in particular, may be the key to answering the charge that while the Republicans controlled Congress they failed to put the needed limits on Freddie and Fannie.

I was curious as to whether or not the Democrat's blame had any true warrant. One suspicion that it had not was found in the fact that most everyone who pointed an accusing finger did so on these general grounds. Usually when someone has the goods they point to specific events or quotes. I have not yet seen this, but I have been hearing some incriminating charges against many Democrats from conservative commentators (interestingly, the liberals are saying things like, "there's enough blame to go around," and "let's not start playing the blame game"). So, I decided to do a quick search of my own to see what I could come up with. Here is just a sampling of what I found.

From Sept 30, 1999: Fannie Mae Eases Credit To Aid Mortgage Lending

Fannie Mae, the nation's biggest underwriter of home mortgages, has been under increasing pressure from the Clinton Administration to expand mortgage loans among low and moderate income people

From Sept 11, 2003: New Agency Proposed to Oversee Freddie Mac and Fannie Mae

The Bush administration today recommended the most significant regulatory overhaul in the housing finance industry since the savings and loan crisis a decade ago.

. . .

Among the groups denouncing the proposal today were the National Association of Home Builders and Congressional Democrats who fear that tighter regulation of the companies could sharply reduce their commitment to financing low-income and affordable housing.

''These two entities -- Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac -- are not facing any kind of financial crisis,'' said Representative Barney Frank of Massachusetts, the ranking Democrat on the Financial Services Committee. ''The more people exaggerate these problems, the more pressure there is on these companies, the less we will see in terms of affordable housing.''

Representative Melvin L. Watt, Democrat of North Carolina, agreed.

From April 2, 2004: Panel Approves Mortgage Company Bill

Legislation giving regulators the power to take over the mortgage giants Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac if they become insolvent narrowly won approval Thursday in a partisan vote by a Senate panel. Prospects for Senate passage appeared dim, however.

. . .

The Republican-written bill was adopted by the Senate Banking Committee, 12 to 9, mostly along party lines.

. . .

But Democrats on the committee warned that creating the possibility of receivership would give excessive power to the regulators that could harm the two companies.

. . .

[T]he minority Democrats would very likely use procedural rules of the Senate to block its passage.

From April 6, 2005: Greenspan Urges Better Regulation of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac

Appearing before the Senate Banking Committee, Mr. Greenspan said the enormous portfolios of the companies - nearly a quarter of the home mortgage market - posed significant risks to the nation's financial system should either of the companies face extensive problems.

. . .

The two companies have been formidable lobbying forces and been able to block attempts made by lawmakers

. . .

Senator Charles E. Schumer, Democrat of New York, criticized Mr. Greenspan's recommendation and called it both inconsistent with his other views on regulation and potentially damaging to the housing markets. Without identifying anyone in particular, he also suggested that some people who have advanced tougher regulation of the two housing finance companies are really pushing a broader agenda to eliminate the companies and their mission of providing affordable housing.

From: Federal Housing Enterprise Regulatory Reform Act of 2005

For years I [John McCain] have been concerned about the regulatory structure that governs Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac--known as Government-sponsored entities or GSEs--and the sheer magnitude of these companies and the role they play in the housing market. OFHEO's report this week does nothing to ease these concerns. In fact, the report does quite the contrary. OFHEO's report solidifies my view that the GSEs need to be reformed without delay.

I join as a cosponsor of the Federal Housing Enterprise Regulatory Reform Act of 2005, S. 190, to underscore my support for quick passage of GSE regulatory reform legislation. If Congress does not act, American taxpayers will continue to be exposed to the enormous risk that Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac pose to the housing market, the overall financial system, and the economy as a whole.

And this recent summary article: Blame Fannie Mae and Congress For the Credit Mess

In the wake of Freddie's 2003 accounting scandal, Fed Chairman Alan Greenspan became a powerful opponent, and began to call for stricter regulation

. . .

Fannie and Freddie retained the support of many in Congress, particularly Democrats, and they were allowed to continue unrestrained.

. . .

Sen. McCain's criticisms are at least credible, since he has been pointing to systemic risks in the mortgage market and trying to do something about them for years. In contrast, Sen. Obama's conversion as a financial reformer marks a reversal from his actions in previous years, when he did nothing to disturb the status quo.

. . .

Now the Democrats are blaming the financial crisis on "deregulation." This is a canard.

. . .

If the Democrats had let the 2005 legislation come to a vote, the huge growth in the subprime and Alt-A loan portfolios of Fannie and Freddie could not have occurred, and the scale of the financial meltdown would have been substantially less. The same politicians who today decry the lack of intervention to stop excess risk taking in 2005-2006 were the ones who blocked the only legislative effort that could have stopped it.

Why the McCain campaign is not hammering the Dems over this is a mystery to me.

Can Abortion be a Moral Issue and be a Valid Choice?

I was fortunate enough to be on the right TV channel at the right time and caught the event at Rick Warren's Saddleback Church. What I'm referring to is the Civil Forum on the Presidency in which Warren interviewed both Barack Obama and John McCain in turn. I found it to be a very well done event in that the forum was casual and friendly, the questions were not soft-balls, and each candidate was asked to answer the same set of questions, so relevant comparisons could be made.

It is not my interest here to give a synopsis of the debate and my impression of the candidate's performances. Instead, my intention is to unpack the response given by Obama to one of Warren's questions on the topic of abortion.

Let me begin with the question posed to Obama: "At what point does a baby get human rights in your view?"

Obama's response, interspersed with my commentary, follows.

Well, I think that whether you are looking at it from a theological perspective or a scientific perspective, answering that question with specificity, you know, is above my pay grade.

So, Obama is basically saying that he doesn't know; it's too complex an issue for him to be certain. It should be noted that he can only be undecided if he believes there are compelling arguments on both sides of the debate. If this were not the case, then the decision would be a no-brainer. However, in his politics he has made a decision: he is pro-choice (see his further response for evidence of that).

In light of his agnosticism about the rights and status of the unborn, it is confounding that he should choose to permit its destruction. He is basically saying: "Oh, I'm not quite sure if it's a full, rights-bearing human. But even in case it is, you can go ahead and kill it if you want." Why is it that those who are neutral on this very important issue never err on the side of caution? In reality, I think Obama is not actually undecided on the status of the fetus. He just knows that most of us voters are not comfortable with a thoroughly pro-choice position, and feigned neutrality plays much better than unequivocal support.

One thing that I'm absolutely convinced of is there is a moral and ethical content to this issue. So I think that anybody who tries to deny the moral difficulties and gravity of the abortion issue I think is not paying attention.

This is a very revealing admission, since there must be something of unique value about the unborn in order to suggest a moral component. Would Obama suggest that the choice to remove a tumor or cut one's nails is a moral issue? I think not, since those things have no intrinsic value. But how about the choice to throw out my TV and get a new one, or to keep it? My TV has value, but it's still not a moral decision. I think we know intuitively that the moral value that the unborn child has is something distinct from anything else with which we might seek parallel. And if it does indeed have this kind of moral value, of which Obama seems "absolutely convinced," then he's got some justification for thinking that human rights should apply here.

I believe in Roe v. Wade and come to that conclusion not because I'm pro abortion, but because ultimately I don't think women make these decisions casually. They wrestle with these things in profound ways. In consultation with their pastors or spouses or their doctors and their family members.

But of course he's pro abortion to some degree! I'm not suggesting that he wants to go on a fetus killing spree, but being "pro-choice" for anything implies that the choices being offered are good, valid, or at least morally neutral options. He must, necessarily, think that aborting a baby is an acceptable solution; he's in favor of women doing this; he's pro those abortions.

In spite of his claim that he doesn't like abortions, he gives his justification here for supporting them anyway. In summary, it seems to go like this: "I'm in favor of abortion rights because women don't take the decision to abort lightly." Sounds vacuous on the face of it, doesn't it? So vacuous that I'm sure he'd come up with some other explanation if he were confronted on this, though I've seen him on many other occasions make his primary appeal similarly, on the basis of this being a tough decision for women. So, let us take him seriously.

The inverse of this would seem to be that if women had abortions cavalierly, then Obama would be against Roe v. Wade. Perhaps, then, he'd like to implement a test of apathy for abortion candidates so as to insure that those going through with it have demonstrated the appropriate degree of agonization for this "moral and ethical" issue. Beyond that, perhaps he'd agree to support other troubling choices people make on the grounds that they, too, wrestle with them in profound ways. Choices like, whether or not to shoot a cheating spouse, whether to take up drug dealing or embezzlement as a much-needed source of income, or whether or not bombing abortion clinics is a tactically effective way to end the practice.

Whether or not one labors over a decision has no bearing on the moral status of the choices. I am quite certain that I have labored more earnestly over my choice of ice cream than many of the Nazi overlords did regarding their choices of which Jews to exterminate.

And so for me, the goal right now should be — and this is where I think we can find common ground, and by the way I have now inserted this into the democrat party platform — is how do we reduce the number of abortions, because the fact is that although we've had a president who is opposed to abortions over the last eight years, abortions have not gone down.

I'm not quite sure what he is arguing here. It seems to be this: Bush is pro-life, but that fact has not reduced the abortion statistics. Even assuming those statistics are correct I'm not sure what follows, since Roe v. Wade still stands either way. We could equally say that permitting abortions has not served to reduce them. It certainly seems reasonable to think that making them unlawful would tend to make them less common. I can't imagine that more women would have them simply because they were suddenly illegal. Is no woman law-abiding? And isn't reducing the numbers what Obama wants? Well, I guess not that badly, though.

What Obama is probably trying to say is that we should not focus on the legality of the procedure; we should just deal with the cause of the unwanted pregnancies, and a guy like Bush has his priorities backward. Unfortunately, knowing that it is a legally and socially acceptable option is not a good first step if prevention is honestly the goal. I might just as well discourage the kids from rough-housing in the living room by padding the walls and removing all the breakables. Unfortunately, much of the reduction that those like Obama seek typically amounts to a focus on pregnancy prevention by way of contraceptives. To his credit, he did later mention the need to encourage alternatives to abortion{1}.

But groups, like Crisis Pregnancy Centers, get a bum rap for trying to do just that. It appears that the more favored Planned Parenthood works very hard to keep the abortion option on equal moral footing. Indeed, it seems to be their preferred option, and as their centers are conveniently equipped to do the dirty deed on-site (for a nominal fee, of course), one can easily understand why they would recommend a quick in-and-out abortion over a personally demanding, expensive, long-term solution, like providing aid and support for a pregnancy and its aftermath.

The last thing I would mention is that the very desire to make this procedure less common is once again testimony that there is a moral component to it. But not just a moral component; it is actually not a good thing, thus the desire to reduce its occurrence. Perhaps one might respond that it's morally neutral in the same way that we'd like to reduce the need for removal of other unwanted tissue masses, like warts and tumors. So, what is Obama saying? Does he think that it's bad to terminate unwanted pregnancies or it's just bad to acquire them?

I get the impression here that he would prefer to focus on the prevention of unwanted pregnancies, since that is less controversial; but his moral language, and the fact that his later comments commend alternative solutions{1}, would imply that he's got a problem with the procedure itself. While we may agree on lifestyle guidelines that will help avoid tumors and cancerous growth, we don't dispute the morality of removing them once they develop. We eagerly embrace that! Even if a tumor were a growing pearl of great "potential" value, we still would not be discussing the "morality" of removing it at any stage of its growth. There is a difference between moral obligation and financial speculation.

Pro-choice advocates should be appalled that Obama would suggest that pregnant women have a moral obligation to consider alternatives to abortion. In doing so, he's saying that there may actually be something wrong with the choice to abort. In spite of the naïve claim that "we can't legislate morality," every law begins with the principle that some behaviors are or are not good for society and/or the individual{2}. And we dare to implement those laws even if they mean hardship for some individuals, and even if some individuals may choose to violate those laws and do injury to themselves in their disobedience.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1. "What I can do is say are there ways that we can work together to reduce the number of unwanted pregnancies so that we actually are reducing the sense that women are seeking out abortions, and as an example of that, one of the things that I've talked about is how do we provide the resources that allow women to make the choice to keep a child. You know, have we given them the health care that they need? Have we given them the support services that they need? Have we given them the options of adoption that are necessary? That I think can make a genuine difference."

2. I know, there are utilitarian laws, like stop on red, which are amoral (for example, we could have said stop on blue), but there are larger moral principles behind such laws, like the promotion of public safety and order.

What if Barack Obama Loses?

As much as I do not want an Obama win, I am apprehensive about an Obama loss.

Barack Obama is perhaps the perfect candidate for the new, leftist Democratic leadership. So perfect, that it was willing to throw its former golden children (the Clintons) under the campaign bus in order to insure his ascendancy. He is articulate, he has face appeal, he is Green, he is liberal, he is culturally diverse, and he even has the blessing of Oprah Winfrey. What he doesn't have is much experience, but even that has been forged into a virtue. He is the poster boy for the Far Left, and exactly what they believe the country now wants and needs. How can he possibly lose, especially in an election year where the opposing party has (supposedly) fallen so far out of favor? Anything with a pulse that is not George Bush should be a shoe-in.

An Obama loss would suggest that no matter how much the public might complain about the present Republican leadership, it still finds that party's platform superior to a Far Left alternative. The frightening thing to me is the question of what the Far Left will do if it is thwarted in moving its agenda by way of popular vote (i.e., in playing by the rules). It has already revealed the lengths to which it is willing to go by its use of judicial activism. For example, the maddening fact that the majority of the population will not support same-sex marriage has inspired some of our liberal judges to find rights heretofore invisible in our Constitution.

As Obama's political persuasions become increasingly transparent to the American public, his electability may be (and has been, it seems) called into question. The generalities and obfuscations that characterize the Obama campaign make it clear that the Left knows it is in their best interest to hide their deepest agendas; as the average, commonsense man will not suffer a full-spread banquet of liberal cuisine, but must have it artfully served to him course by course. If the best hope of the Left, at the best time for it, cannot garner our support, then I fear the new and alternative means that will be employed to advance its causes. The shrill and rabid hatred for George Bush and any who would dare to support him, the conspiracy cavalcades and judiciary gymnastics, may only be a foretaste of what's to come.

Now I'm sure that some would say that an Obama loss will simple be evidence of the racism still prevalent in our society. It may lead to a new, though self-imposed, racial tension, and it may close the sale of the Democratic Party to black America (though I know they are not a monolithic group). But in reality, I think for every genuinely bigoted person who may withhold a vote for Obama because of his race, there will be at least two who will vote for him merely and precisely because of it.

I believe that America is more than ready for a black president. Indeed, many hunger for it as a form of historical penance. But I fear that it may not be graciously received if we decide that we are just not ready for this black American to be president. As we push past his race, charm, scripted eloquence, and inspirational slogans, we see an inexperience politician, with questionable friends and associates, who represents the farthest Left candidate yet presented for our consideration.

I hope the Left will not think us wicked if we reject its candidate over principled differences. And I hope our fellow black Americans will understand if we (though "we" does happen to include a good number of them) choose not to spend our votes on token racial appeasement.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Note: I am not even comfortable using us versus them language where it concerns racial differences, but I think that the Left has done more to widen the racial divide than it understands, and it forces us to traffic in racial and cultural distinctions. Indeed, it celebrates them! I almost hope that Obama wins so that we might finally say, "There! Now nothing has not been achieved by (or is "withheld" from) a black man. Can we please now move on and directly focus on our political and moral issues together?"

Fate and Destiny: Jesse Ventura's Secular Superstition

Among an increasingly secular culture, I've noticed a curious thing. It is quite common to hear talk of fate, destiny, or what was "meant to be." It is an often-visited theme in movies (for instance, Serendipity and Sliding Doors) and can be heard in candid interviews with celebrities. Now, this may make sense under certain spiritual worldviews, but I take this as a meaningless sentiment from those who are opposed to religion in general.

The most recent example of this, in my experience, has come from the mouth of former Minnesota Governor, Jesse Ventura. One of the alleged charms of Mr. Ventura is that he is a tell-it-like-it-is kind of guy. Unfortunately, one of the ways that he believes it is like involves the idea that "organized religion is a sham and a crutch for weak-minded people who need strength in numbers." Given his anti-religious orientation, it struck me as very odd when I recently heard him say that he's always been a big believer in "fate and destiny." With that in mind, he entrusted his final decision regarding a bid for the Senate to the flip of a coin.

Of course, I understand that there is a difference between fatalism and fate in a broader, metaphysical sense. I understand that when some use the term "fate" they are simply speaking of what chance deals out. That's not what I have in mind, nor is it how others, like Jesse Ventura, speak of it. Jesse was not just indecisive about his political aspirations and lazily allowed a coin flip to put the issue to bed; he expected that the coin flip would be a portal to the right decision, the path that he was meant to follow.

I doubt very much that someone like Jesse Ventura would like to be thought of as superstitious, but how could one reconcile his idea that (some or all) things are meant to be with his inclination toward a secular worldview? Perhaps one might say that fate is what we would observe if we could take a time machine and travel into the future. That is, fate is what does and will happen. But you don't flip a coin to get on board with that fate, because you are always making that fate no matter what you do. And it is most certainly not an intended, or morally good, destiny; it is simply an amoral byproduct of random events and human choices.

In order for anything to be fated, there must be a fater. In order for anything to be destined, there must be a designer. In order for anything to be meant, there must be something that can grant meaning. In order for anything to happen for a reason, there must be something which can reason.

I contend that Ventura's substantive view of fate requires a theistic perspective — a God. And not just any God: a God who is involved in the course of history and even individual human lives. It requires a personal God who can plan and purpose. It requires a powerful God who can take the helm in history. It requires a "meddling" God who can influence human agents and even tamper with nature. All these things are required if Mr. Ventura's coin flip is insured to land according to plan — according to a good and meaningful plan — just as it was fated to do.

Unfortunately, this is the very type of God that might intervene in human history in even more profound ways than the subtleties of coin flips and serendipitous events. This is the very type of God explicitly affirmed and revered by those poor, "weak-minded" followers of organized religion. But it would appear that someone like Jesse Ventura much prefers disorganized religion.

MIT Biology Class - Reading Between the Lines (4)

Lecture Note:

Geneticists have been surprised to discover that some genes actually overlap each other, meaning that the same stretch of DNA can be involved in the code for more than one protein. This is very common in prokaryotes, which have less DNA in which to pack their genetic instructions, but it has also been discovered to occur in eukaryotes, which have a more roomy genome.

My thoughts:

The amino acid arrangement, which makes up the protein polypeptide chain, is coded for by the nucleic acid molecules (nucleotides) in DNA. These nucleotides come in 4 flavors, which are represented by the letters A T G and C. A series of 3 nucleotides (a codon) codes for each individual amino acid. So, for example, TAC codes for tyrosine, while GAA codes for glutamate. It should be noted that there are 64 possible combinations of these sets of 3 nucleotides, while there are only 20 amino acids, so, many of them can be represented by more than one codon, e.g., both TAT and TAC code for tyrosine. Additionally, some combinations represent "start" and "stop" codons¹, which bookend the gene and define a "reading frame" — the gene is contained within the reading frame.

A large molecule known as RNA polymerase reads the DNA and assists the messenger RNA in acquiring a copy of the gene, which will be elsewhere translated into a protein. It reads the DNA in these codon groups, but it is not as though it begins at the start of the DNA molecule and reads along it in groups of 3 nucleotides; it can attach at any point and only begins its transcription work when it encounters an ATG triplet (the start codon). So, in theory, there could be one at the start of the DNA strand, one starting from the 2nd nucleotide in the strand, one starting at the 3rd nucleotide in the strand, etc.

For example, a stretch of DNA might look something like this:

...ATGCATGTCATACCATAGCTAGAG...

The ATG at the beginning would start the gene sequence and it would end once it had reached a stop codon, which in this case is the TAG sequence. So the resulting reading frame and 4 amino acid gene² would look like this:

...ATG CAT GTC ATA CCA TAG CTA GAG...

(Start, Histidine, Valine, Isoleucine, Proline, Stop)

But not so fast: if you look at the original sequence you will notice that ATG can be found a bit further in, and there is another TAG later down the line as well. So if we adjust our starting offset just a tad we can find a whole different gene in this same stretch of DNA, like so:

...A TGC ATG TCA TAC CAT AGC TAG AG...

(Start, Serine, Tyrosine, Histidine, Serine, Stop)

Can you see why this would be a stunner for geneticists to find? This is like discovering that your recipe for chicken pot pie also contained the recipe for laundry detergent if you drop every second letter, or that your favorite song is also the national anthem when played backwards. It is hard enough to explain how new genes can come into existence by random mutations; now we must explain how something so delicately intertwined as this could come about.

It is a problem whether it is claimed to come about gradually or all in one step. If you say that the overlapping genes came into existence together, then you have only increased the statistical improbabilities on already problematic equations. If you say that this happened gradually (first one gene appeared and then tweaks occurred to bring the second into play), then you have added profound constraints upon the process that is proposed to bring genes into existence. It is one thing to say that a functional gene could by chance and degree be constructed upon a stretch of unused DNA, but to say that it can arrive upon the back of a functioning gene without upsetting its vocation stretches credulity on principle alone. I may just as well say that my wife can slowly change her pot pie recipe into a crypto-detergent recipe without making my son vomit at any point that she follows it and served him the product.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

End Notes:

1. The start codon ATG actually codes for the amino acid methionine. The three stop codons, TAA, TAG, and TGA, do not encode an actual amino acid.

2. As you may remember from an earlier lecture note, the average protein consists of at least 150 amino acids.

Sifting Worldviews

I was once engaged in dialog with a thoroughly postmodern fellow who was insistent on the idea that we could not know objective truth, even if it existed. After arguing the case that it was not a hopeless cause, and that, in reality, his entire life depended upon the assumption of its existence, he finally asked me how one could achieve any sort of confidence regarding worldviews and religious truth claims. Here are 7 basic points that I offered for his consideration.

1) Truth sides with the preponderance of facts. The more clear and indisputable the fact the more heavily it may weigh in our consideration. For example, if all discovered ancient manuscripts fundamentally agree with the Bible we have today, then it is more reasonable to believe that Scripture has been faithfully preserved than that (as some skeptics claim) it has been corrupted by countless copies, translations, and tamperings of the church.

2) Truth must be rational. Truth claims must be internally consistent and non-contradictory. Consistency does not establish truth, but its deficiency surely negates it. It may be fashionable to question the law of non-contradiction these days, but even the most anti-rational eastern mystic looks both ways before he crosses the street; for he knows that it is either him or the bus, but not both.

3) At least some aspect of the truth claim must be verifiable. It may not spring forth ex nihilo from the mind of man with no association to concrete reality. Since many claims of truth are falsifiable we may use negation as a tool to lead us to truth via a back door process of elimination. For example, the book of Mormon claims that the American Indians are the descendants of Israel, and if it can be demonstrated that they are actually of northeastern Asian descent, then the credibility of this book is impugned. (Note: this seems to have been done via DNA analysis.)

4) We may derive truth or truth indicators via credible authority. Credibility manifests itself through subject matter expertise, record of accomplishment, and character. For example, if a religion's founder were found to indulge in immoral¹ pursuits or made counter-factual claims, then it would be reasonable to suspect the religion itself.

5) Truth works. We must be able to use it effectively, build upon it, or live it out. If we must reach outside of a truth system for practical reasons, then it must be considered false or inadequate. For example, if the moral relativist is compelled to moralize then he has surrendered his position.

6) Truth is justified by its explanatory scope. The explanation that accounts for the greatest number of facts and observations is the most likely to be true. For example, with each new epicycle added, the Ptolemaic model of the universe decreased in credibility.

7) Truth has predictive power. A true proposition will not only have present corroborative evidences, but will successfully identify what may be found in its support in the future. For example, the Big Bang theory of cosmology is so compelling exactly because its many predictions have been proved out one by one, while the theory of evolution should be held in suspicion for quite opposite reasons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

End notes:

1. I know it may be begging the question to call the founder immoral unless we take into account the standard by which he presumes us to judge morality.

Is the Nicene Creed Biblical?

I was recently dialoging with a liberal Christian who wanted to justify his theological autonomy by pointing out that even conservatives cannot seem to agree with each other. My response was to claim that before one can enter the debate over the fringes and essentials of orthodoxy with Christians of good will, that one must first attend to what they hold in common. I suggested the Nicene Creed as a basic framework of beliefs that was early, broadly affirmed, and is still respected by the most diverse denominations of Christianity. We must start somewhere when attempting to define Christianity. If you cannot put any stakes in the ground, then Christianity is essentially anything you want it to be, which is to say, it is nothing in particular.

As expected, this fellow took exception with the creed and posted his reaction to it on his own blog. I thought it might be worth copying my subsequent response here. The following includes only slight edits of my original reply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first observation I'd make is that this creed seems completely foreign to you. Perhaps it is not, but it should not be alien to any Christian and is actually recited quite often in the liturgies of many denominations, along with the Apostles' Creed and others. Whether one agrees with its content or not, it is a milestone in the theological and liturgical self-understanding of the church. Respect for this creedal statement is still found in the Orthodox Church (Eastern, Russian, American) and the Roman Catholic Church; and even the Magisterial Reformers (Luther, Calvin, Zwingli, etc.) did not take real exception with this creed (or many other things which all share in common).

The council that formulated this creed was the result of a challenge from Arius and his followers, who took Jesus to be a separately created being, like the angels. The Jehovah's Witnesses could be said to be the modern bearers of the Arian position, though not by unbroken succession. This council was the first world church council (other than, perhaps, the Jerusalem council), being attended by the leaders from all the major regions around the empire. To say that it was not representative of mainstream Christianity is to say that something like Gnosticism is the true expression of Christianity. And contrary to what Dan Brown says in The Da Vinci Code, the vote on the divinity of Christ was not "close," nor was it "first proposed" here. All but two of the more than three hundred attendees voted that the Trinitarian view best captured what Scripture and tradition had revealed about the nature of God.

The center of the second line bothers me: "God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God". That phrase sounds very formal, almost poetic or like a ritual statement. The problem is that I can't find anything even remotely like it in the Bible. Is this a translation error? Or are these simply non-Biblical statements that have crept into the creed?

The language of the creed is designed to express the consensus understanding while also serving as a refutation of the Arian view. So, it is intent to make clear that Jesus is of the same essence/substance as the Father (and Spirit) while also preserving the biblical truth that Jesus proceeds (is eternally begotten) from the Father in some way.

Certainly these words are not lifted from Scripture, but neither are words like monotheism, syncretism, soteriology, and nihilism; yet certain content within Scripture can be rightly described by way of such words. The question is not whether this text is found directly in Scripture; the question is whether or not it follows from the teachings of Jesus and the apostles. And the case has well been made that Jesus is described as deity in Scripture: He is ascribed all the attributes of the Father, He exercised all of the Father's prerogatives, and He shares titles which the Father reserved for Himself.

Here and here are some quick Scriptural references for verses making this case for the full deity of Christ, and for a good single verse I would suggest John 1:1: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."

There are a bunch more statements that I can't really quibble with on Biblical grounds, until we get to "one holy catholic and apostolic Church". Is there actually any place in the New Testament which refers to a "catholic" Church?

I am not Roman "Catholic," so you know I would resist their tendency to make this word play to their favor. The Roman "Catholic" Church, as it came to be known, did not even exist at the time of this council. The word "catholic," as we now denote with a small "c", is best interpreted as "general," "universal," or "pertaining to the whole." In the creed it is a recognition that the church was and will be a dispersed and diverse body bound together by a common theology (some of which is captured in this creed). It is a rejection of sectarian, if not cultic, thinking, which was a problem then as it is today.

If the normal designation in the New Testament for the "whole Church" was "holos ekklēsia" why did the writers of the creed choose to used "catholic" instead?

In effect, they did just that. Catholic is from the two root words "kata," meaning pertaining to, or about, and the word "holos," meaning the whole. It is merely done for grammatical purposes I suppose, otherwise it would say, "One Holy whole and apostolic Church."

One final thing worth mentioning is that although the creed refers to "the Scriptures" and to the Holy Spirit speaking via the prophets, at no place does it specify that the canon of Scriptures is complete and infallible. Isn't that a little odd considering that Paul Pruett was trying to argue that this creed should be the litmus test for whether the squishy liberals or the ramrod conservatives were right?

This creed does not mention many things. You cannot take from it that if it does not mention it then they did not believe it. It was primarily designed to address some of the major concerns relating to the nature of God and what He has done for us. Yet, it was from somewhere that they grounded the beliefs contained in this creed: Scripture. And to be so dogmatic as to produce this creed (and its related anathemas) one would expect that this Source would be held in high esteem. It may or may not be true that words like "infallible" are recent inventions, but it should be noted that the early church did not suffer from the same kind of modern skepticism and redaction of the Scriptures which necessitates the naming and declaration of such a doctrine.

When the authors of this creed mention Scripture, they mean something in particular. It is true that the canon was formally declared after the Council of Nicea, but it is not as though the idea of an authoritative list of books was foreign to them at this time. Indeed, as far back as we have approvingly quoted books from the Church Father's pens and explicit lists of inspired writings we can see the outline of the canon as it would come to be known.

The only real contenders for a modified canon were the Gnostics (who are in a whole other camp); yet even they, other than Marcion, agreed to most of the standard books; they simply wanted to add their own unique works into the mix and considered the mainstream canon to be the revelation for the common man, or at least the literal understanding of it to be.

As far as whether the cannon was "complete," the very methodology behind identifying a N.T. book as Scripture precludes such a thing as new books, since inspiration and authority only applied to Jesus and His apostles. A book (beyond the O.T.) was only considered for canon if it had a solid pedigree of apostolic authority. So, for example, a book like Mark could only be justified as Scripture insofar as it could be traced to the oversight of Peter and/or Paul and reliable tradition proved that it had early authorship.

If anything, more books were ultimately included into the canon than what some had argued for. And since this chapter of God's divine plan appears to be settled (as Scripture itself claims), then no further special revelation is expected until Christ comes to claim His church. God's plan has come to fruition in Christ; we are in the Church Age spreading the Good News, a bride awaiting its bridegroom. Any revelation forthcoming can only affirm what has been accomplished or inaugurate the new age to come.

The text of the creed does mention sins, but only in the context of "remission of sins". It does mention judgment, but only in the context of the Last Judgment.

Remission of sin and final judgment certainly implies that there is such a thing as sin to remit or judge. Of course, what qualifies as sin and what we fellow sinners ought to do about the sin in the world is another matter, but Scripture is most emphatic that we should not ignore it or lull the world into a false sense of security regarding it.

It doesn't mention "love" at all. Perhaps the composers of the creed weren't familiar with John 3:16.

Since even most reasonable atheists agree that we should be loving, and that if there is a God that he/she/it would surely be loving, then this idea is not really a controversial doctrine on which the framers thought to make a stand. (If you want a creed with more "love" mentioned in it, here is a more recent one that most of the church would probably give the nod.)

Of course, the word "love" must be defined. Saying that we must love one another and that God loves the world needs an explanation. When John says that "God so loved the world" he spends many chapters explaining just how it is that God expressed that love. The Nicene Creed captures some of that explanation in saying the following:

"Who, for us men for our salvation, came down from heaven, and was incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the virgin Mary, and was made man; and was crucified also for us under Pontius Pilate; He suffered and was buried; and the third day He rose again, according to the Scriptures; and ascended into heaven, and sits on the right hand of the Father."

God does not simply have warm feelings for humanity and look upon our apathy toward Him and His will with a blind eye. He loved us enough to come down among us and make a road home for His fallen creatures. May God grant that we travel it and lead others to do the same!