Faith and Science – Part 2

With God’s help

The Physico-Theological Evidence: Certainty and Probability

Introduction: In Praise of Physico-Theology

In the previous column, I generally described the meaning of the concept of faith and its position on the axis between the emotional-experiential and the intellectual. I presented a position according to which belief in God is a claim of fact. I concluded my remarks with the threefold classification that Kant proposed for evidence for the existence of God: ontological, cosmological, and physico-theological. In order to move a little further in the direction of comparisons between faith and science and perhaps also in the direction of the turbulent conflicts between them, I would like to focus here on one type of evidence out of the three, physico-theological evidence.

I will preface this by saying that I personally think this is a very reasonable argument (even if, as we will see below, it is neither necessary nor scientific), but my goal here is not only to convince the reader that it is more reasonable to believe in God than to hold an atheistic position, but mainly to draw a picture through this discussion of the polemics and complex relationships between faith and science.

What is the physico-theological view?

The physico-theological view is based on the assumption that complex or designed things do not come into being by themselves. In the formulation of the 19th-century priest Paley, so beloved by atheists: When we see a clock lying on the ground, we will not assume that this clock came into being by itself through some natural process, but will take it for granted that there was a watchmaker who designed and created it. So is our world, which is much more complex than a clock, and therefore it is likely that someone created it. Another formulation was proposed by the renowned astrophysicist Fred Hoyle, who argued that the chance of life arising by chance is lower than the chance that a tornado passing over a junkyard will assemble a complete Boeing airplane from the parts thrown there. Again, his argument is that life is much more complex than a Boeing airplane, and therefore it turns out that it did not come into being by a blind, random process. Someone must have created it.

In the discourse on God and evolution, many call Hoyle's argument by the unflattering (but very self-confident) nickname, 'Hoyle's fallacy.' Below I will try to explain where and why they themselves are wrong, and why the late Hoyle was definitely right.

Why the physico-theological view?

There are four reasons for my focus on this argument: a. It is very intuitive. b. It is very common (probably because of its intuitiveness). c. As I mentioned in the previous column, only this type of evidence begins with empirical observations, and therefore it will allow us to compare this type of inference with scientific inference. d. The variety of different objections to this argument will allow us to further refine the fundamental distinctions regarding the relationship between faith and science.

Appeals to the Physico-Theological View

I would also like to point out that the physico-theological argument is treated quite a bit in philosophical and polemical literature, and here I can only sketch the outlines of this issue. Such evidence can be opposed for various philosophical-logical reasons and claimed to be invalid. An equally common objection is that this is not a scientific consideration.

Before I begin to review the various appeals, I would like to address a few preliminary remarks. This is to clarify the essence of the physico-theological argument itself.

I cannot avoid commenting on the nature of the discussion. Emotional reactions to such arguments (see the talkbacks to the first column) cause people to anticipate the later, and to draw out various objections to the evidence at a stage when I have not yet begun to deal with them. Don't worry, I intend to get to them. Therefore, I propose to leave the debates until the end, and to read and judge the arguments one by one in order. At the end of the road, everyone will be able to decide on their general position.

The Flying Spaghetti Monster

One of the first questions that always arises when the physico-theological argument is presented is: Why don't we prove the existence of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, or any other being, in this way? Why specifically God? And in general, why shouldn't there be four Gods, but only one? Alternatively, why not assume that he is not infinite but only possesses very powerful abilities (this is part of Kant's own objection to this evidence)?

This is not an appeal, but a misunderstanding of the physico-theological argument. This entity could be called the Flying Spaghetti Monster, or any other name you choose. You could even announce a prize for the person who comes up with the most attractive name. But none of this is related to the physico-theological argument itself. It merely asserts the following claim: There is some entity that creates/runs the world, and nothing more. It does not say what its name is, or that it is one entity, and certainly not that it expects us to put on tefillin, honor parents, or even that it has even revealed itself to anyone in this world (be it on Mount Sinai, or on the waters of the Sea of Galilee). It does not even say that this entity acts logically, or not. At most, there are barriers to its powers (it is supposed to be able to create a world and run it).

Who created God?

This is another common question, and it also stems from a lack of understanding of the argument. This question is addressed differently to two types of evidence: a. The cosmological evidence assumes that everything has a cause, or someone/something that created it (according to the principle of sufficient reason). Now, the appellant asks, God is also a thing, and according to the principle of sufficient reason there must also be someone who created it. We are being dragged into an infinite regress here. b. The physico-theological evidence, on the other hand, assumes that every complex/planned thing in the world has someone who planned, created, and manages it. If so, the intelligent appellant again argues, the same assumption should be applied to God. To formulate the appeal on this level, we are required to make another assumption: God is no less complex than the world he created (see a discussion of this in my book God plays dice). Now the appellant can argue: the assumption should also be applied in relation to him. So who created/runs him? And again the regression appears.

The problem with this appeal lies in the question of regression. This is actually at the heart of the argument, and it certainly does not create an attack on it. Philosophers tend to think that infinite regression cannot be an explanation (or: sufficient reason) for anything. It is similar to that Greek physicist who explains his cosmology to his captivated audience: "The world stands on a giant turtle," he says enthusiastically. At that moment, a woman from the audience raises her finger and asks: "And what is the turtle standing on?" The physicist answers without hesitation: "On another turtle." And when she asks again and again: "What is the new turtle standing on?", he answers her impatiently: "And if you don't understand, there are turtles all the way down!"

This is precisely the sting of the physico-theological view. If we do not accept an infinite chain as an explanation, then how can we ever have an explanation? The argument is not against one explanation or another. Even if the scientific information we have is lacking, the argument is not based on a lacuna in scientific information. Even if we ever complete the entire scientific project, and all the relevant information and laws are in our possession, the question still arises: What is the cause of the first cause? Or: Who created the first being in the chain?

The only way to stop this endless regression is to assume the existence of a first link in the chain for whose existence no sufficient reason is required. An entity that is not subject to our experience, and therefore there is no reason to assume that it is a "cause of itself," or "the necessity of reality," in more modern terminology. If we do not assume the existence of a necessary entity at the beginning, we will never be able to escape the regression and arrive at an explanation.

The phrase "we cannot arrive at," which I have just used, may be confusing. I am not talking here about our ability to arrive at an explanation. My argument is about reality itself: if reality itself does not have such an initial link, then there is no explanation for the existence of the world (and not just that we cannot arrive at such an explanation).

And perhaps the laws of nature themselves can be such a link in the chain? I will address this later. Here I am only saying, somewhat superficially, that if the laws of nature are indeed such beings, then they are God, and the physico-theological evidence has proven their existence. In the previous section, I already stated that I am not entering into the question of the identity or name of the being whose existence this evidence proves, but only into the very fact that such a being exists.

Requested discount

The last preliminary remark that I would like to get out of the way is the question of the desired assumption. The physico-theological view assumes that everything complex has a creator. But, our determined challenger argues, this is nothing more than the desired assumption. If we do not assume this assumption, we will not have to conclude that God exists.

This claim expresses a profound lack of understanding of the essence of logic. An argument is flawed in the desired premise when the conclusion it wants to reach is already in its premises. For example, in yeshivot it is customary to present evidence that every Jew should walk with a hat. It goes something like this: It is written "And Abraham walked" (ibid., ibid.). A Jew like him certainly did not walk without a hat. And after all, every Jew should walk in the ways of our old father (Abraham). Therefore, if Abraham walked with a hat, then every Jew should walk with a hat. QED. In this argument, the conclusion itself is one of the implicit premises of the argument. When we say that a Jew like him did not walk without a hat, we have in fact implicitly assumed that every Jew should walk with a hat. Therefore, there is the desired premise here.

For comparison, let's now look at the most banal logical argument in the world: All men are mortal, Socrates is a man, therefore Socrates is mortal. This argument is necessary. Where does our certainty about it really come from? Simply from the fact that its conclusion contains no information that was not contained in the premises. It tells us nothing new, and therefore it is certain. Hidden within the assumption that all men are mortal is also the conclusion that Socrates is mortal.

One of the characteristics of a valid logical argument is that its conclusion lies in its premises. This is what is known in philosophy as the 'emptiness of the analytic' (this point and its implications are the subject of my book Two carts and a hot air balloon). If so, in this sense every logical argument assumes what is sought. Is there really no difference between this argument and the proof of Abraham and the hat?

The difference is only in the degree of complexity of the inference. If a complex inference is required to extract the conclusion from the premises (for example, a combination of several premises), this will not be considered the desired premise. When the conclusion itself lies as one of the premises (without the need for combination, as in the case of Abraham and the hat), this is the desired premise.

Now I will ask: Is the conclusion that God exists among the premises of the physico-theological argument? At least in the sense that is important to us, absolutely not. It is true that if every complex thing has a cause, then the entire world also has a cause. But this also characterizes Socrates' argument, as well as any other logical argument. Does this invalidate the argument? Of course not. It just means that it is a logical argument.

Let us now return to our discussion. At the foundation of the physico-theological argument is the principle of sufficient reason, that is, that everything complex has a cause. This assumption does indeed include within it, in a logical sense, the claim that there is always a cause. But we have seen that this is true with respect to every logical argument. Is there an argument that is not based on assumptions? Of course not. Is there a valid logical argument that is based on assumptions, and its conclusion is not implied in the content? Absolutely not. If it were not contained in the content in some way, it would not be valid. If so, at most there is here the accusation of the physico-theological consideration that it is a logical argument. We will deal with this accusation from a slightly different angle in the next column.

What remains for the appellant to argue is that the assumption of the principle of sufficient reason is unacceptable to him. Any logical argument can be attacked in this way. But this assumption is very reasonable, and I think that in any other context most people accept it. There must be a special reason for us to accept a reservation on this principle. In any case, it is true that the physico-theological evidence appeals only to those who accept this assumption.

In the next column, I will begin to discuss the objections to the physico-theological view, and their significance regarding the relationship between faith and science.