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Friday, November 23, 2012

A Rational Christianity

This was an essay I wrote for a class I took this semester. Posted here for posterity.

Case Study: Is It Possible To Reconcile Faith and Rationality?

I am a Christian, and that makes me weird.

My circle of friends consists primarily of rationalists. I am the only one amongst them who believes in any sort of God, and amongst them I am also the only one who is religious. Religion is not particularly fashionable amongst rational people.

If I claim to be a rational person (which is how I found myself
with this group of friends in the first place), then how am I to justify my
belief in the God of my religion?

This essay attempts to use some of the tools taught over the course of this semester, in GEM1902G, to answer this question.

Proof and God

Let's tackle the first problem with any rational approach to theism: i.e. the fact that — despite the best attempts of many of my fellow Christians — the existence of God is not a falsifiable hypothesis. Since God is supposed to exist outside of nature (and its trappings of space and time), one cannot prove the existence or non-existence of God using methods known to science.

That is not to say that there haven't been such attempts. Historically, Christians have deployed all sorts of arguments for the existence of God. Take creation, for example. Christians have argued for centuries that the complexity of life justifies the existence of an intelligent designer. This was all well and good until Darwin came along and demonstrated that the explanation for this complexity was a lot simpler: that evolution, as a biological mechanism, enabled life to evolve incrementally towards what the biologist Richard Dawkins calls 'adaptive perfection'[1]. Dawkins and his ilk thus argue that Christians have no claim to the idea that God exists.

But there is a problem with this train of thought. It is not true that the complexity of life justifies the existence of God, as the Christians have argued. Conversely, the existence of evolution does not, as Dawkins would argue, preclude the existence of God. It strikes me that the debate surrounding evolution is only strong enough to deal with the mechanics of creation, not on the presence of creation itself.

What do I mean by this? Well, if science says that evolution was the mechanism with which we came to be, who, then, can stop us from arguing that God used evolution to create life? And if science says that the universe was created via the Big Bang, then what is to stop the Christians from saying that God created the universe via that exact phenomenon?

Science is silent on things that exist outside of nature. It is muted when dealing with non-observable, non-falsifiable hypotheses. Because the existence of God is not falsifiable, science is of no help to us here. It cannot say anything strong on the existence of God.

God and Correspondence

The correspondence theory of truth is thus of limited value when it comes to God. Even if we do attribute certain phenomena to him, we can never really know for sure.

This attribution problem plagues all the other arguments that may fall into the correspondence theory of truth. For instance, some theists argue that our sense of right and wrong comes from God. (This is known as the moral argument for God.) This, too, is subject to the attribution problem — even if a scientific explanation is found for our moral senses (and there is good reason to believe that one will eventually be found — see recent advances in evolutionary psychology), theists may still attribute this mechanism to God.

This problem of attribution is applicable to any discovery in science. So we're left with where we began: if attribution is a problem, how else might we be able to reason about God?

God and Coherence

The coherence theory of truth gives us a possible alternative: we might reason about God by treating the belief in God as an axiom. When seen in this light, it becomes possible for us to build an internally-consistent system of beliefs that include the existence of God.

A friend of mine, an agnostic, told me that she grew to understand her religious friends as people who started with a different set of base beliefs. This finally gave her the ability to understand where they were coming from (and, though this was left unsaid, in turn saved them from being seen by her as completely irrational creatures).

Perhaps this is a good rationalist justification for God. If science is silent on God, then one way of reconciling God with reason is to say that you simply choose to believe in Him. After accepting the axiom of God into your system of rationality, you may then proceed to weed out beliefs that are inconsistent with both belief in God and belief in Science. This makes things simpler for the thinking Christian.

God and Consensus

If enough people believed in these axioms, we might perhaps reach a consensus that God exists, and that it is not an intellectual 'crime' to believe in His existence.

I, am, of course, being glib. Consensus is a very shallow way of validating the belief in God — just because everyone believes in something does not necessarily mean that the thing is true.

But the consensus theory of truth leads us to an interesting idea: if people all across the world, for most of history have agreed to cling to God, then perhaps we should not discount it so quickly in pursuit of pure rationality.

There are two ways of looking at the prevalence of religion: the first is that men are largely irrational creatures. This is — unkind as it is — probably true. The second way of looking at this is to conclude that there must be something to religiousity that appeals to basic human nature.

There is some evidence to support this claim. Anthropologist Richard Sosis, for instance, examined the history of 200 communes in the United States in the 19th century[2] and found that just 6 percent of secular communes were still functioning 20 years after their funding, as opposed to 39 percent of the religious communes.

The difference? Religious communes could demand more sacrifice from its members. The number of sacrifices demanded, such as giving up alcohol, or fasting, or cutting ties from outsiders, was linearly correlated with how long the communes lasted. But for secular communes, Sosis found that there was no relationship between sacrifice and longevity. Most of them failed within eight years.

Sosis then argued that the rituals and laws necessary for the health of a group work best when they are sacratized. Irrational beliefs can sometimes help the group function more rationally, especially if this sacredness binds people together. But secular settings fail to mask the arbitrariness of social conventions, making it harder for the group to cohere.

Interestingly enough, anthropologists Scott Atran and Joe Henrich showed in a 2010 paper[3] that the development of religion has been driven largely by competition amongst groups. They argued that groups that managed to put their gods to good use had an advantage over groups that didn't, and the groups that didn't soon began to adapt these religious ideas for their own use.

This is in line with Sosis's findings. If gods help groups outcompete other groups, then it makes sense for competing groups to adapt these ideas
for the benefit of their own group. Gods can be helpful as a form of social glue.

The idea that consensus on a religion is beneficial for the group is not without merit.

God and Pragmatism

But if there is a rational argument for God at the group level, then what of the individual? Perhaps the most rational, personal argument for God is that of pragmatism: it benefits me, therefore it is good enough for me that God is real.

Religion does have its benefits, after all. For all the claimed injustices and horrors that intellectuals have attributed to religion, religion on a personal level is a pretty useful thing to have.

Christianity, for instance, has provided me with a clear moral code. It has also provided me with a social support system — that at its best is tolerant, and kind, and accepting (although it is very often not). Most importantly, however, Christianity gives me a mental framework with which to make sense of the world. It compels me to forgive those who have done nasty things to me, because of the belief that I am no better a person, at my core, than those who have wronged me. (The Christian terminology for this being 'everyone is a sinner, but God loves you anyway').

If Christianity makes it easier for me to be a better person, who can fault me for my belief in it?

The problem with rationality

There is one problem with this entire essay, though.

In his 2012 book, The Righteous Mind, social psychologist Jonathan Haidt talks of a study he conducted in 1993[4], where he examined the moral judgments that people make when exposed to a series of moral conundrums.
A family's dog was killed by a car in front of their house. They had heard that dog meat was delicious, so they cut up the dog's body and cooked it and ate it for dinner. Nobody saw them do this.

A man goes to the supermarket once a week and buys a chicken. But before cooking the chicken, he has sexual intercourse with it. Then he cooks it and eats it.

Julie and Mark are brother and sister. They are traveling together in France on summer vacation from college. One night they are staying alone in a cabin near the beach. They decide that it would be interesting and fun if they tried making love. At the very least, it would be a new experience for each of them. Julie was already taking birth control pills, but Mark uses a condom too, just to be safe. They both enjoy making love, but they decide not to do it again. They keep that night as a special secret, which makes them feel even closer to each other. What do you think about that? Was it okay for them to make love?

Under interrogation, most subjects in the experiment agree that these things are wrong. But, with no demonstrable harm in these situations, they found it difficult to explain why.

Haidt argues that this difficulty did not stem from a lack of reasoning. He argues that people do reason. But like psychologist Daniel Kahneman[5], Haidt argues that human reason works like a 'press secretary': justifying our acts and snap judgments to others. (He calls this 'post-hoc rationalizations'). In the example of the incest question, for instance, subjects relentlessly marshal arguments against the act, no matter how thoroughly an interrogator demolishes their arguments, simply because they believe it to be wrong.

Haidt then explains this phenomenon in terms of evolution. Reason, he posits, evolved to help us exert influence over others, not to help us find truth. Or, as he puts it eloquently, 'reason evolved to help us spin, not learn'. People make judgments first, then come up with rational arguments to support their views.

Similarly, this entire essay can be seen as my attempt to do a post-hoc rationalization of my belief in Christianity. I believe Christianity to be true, and I believe, as a rational person, that there are rational reasons for thinking so. Naturally, I attempt to justify my beliefs.

Perhaps, then, the logical conclusion here is to say that reason is not the perfect ideal that my friends and I make it out to be. In this cynical view, what GEM1902G has provided me is simply a set of tools that — if I am so willing — I may employ to justify myself.

I have shown here the existence of a rational, truth-based argument for God. But I have also, you might say, engaged in an indulgent post-hoc rationalization of my Christianess.

I am slightly troubled by this. But as I have (rather competently) demonstrated rational reasons for believing in God, I think my irrational use of rationality can be set aside for the purpose of this essay, to be picked up on and brooded upon at a latter date. I am, after all, only human.

References

[1] - Time: God vs Science
[2] - Sosis, R., & Bressler, E. R. (2003). Cooperation and commune longevity: A test of the costly signaling theory of religion. Cross-Cultural Research, 37(2), 211-239.
[3] - Atran, S., & Henrich, J. (2010). The evolution of religion: How cognitive by-products, adaptive learning heuristics, ritual displays, and group competition generate deep commitments to prosocial religions. Biological Theory, 5(1), 18-30.
[4] - Haidt, J., Koller, S. H., & Dias, M. G. (1993). Affect, culture, and morality, or is it wrong to eat your dog?. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology; Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 65(4), 613.
[5] - Kahneman, D. (2011). Thinking, fast and slow. Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

Tuesday, April 03, 2012

Singapore



Watch this and you'll see the Singapore that most tourists see. It is beautiful and clean, and every bit as dynamic and crowded and colourful as this video makes it out to be.

But there are also other Singapores. The Singapore that the typical NUS student sees consists primarily of the NUS campus, followed by a depressing number of study rooms and computer labs and student lounges and (occasional) rooftop barbecues.

The Singapore that the typical Singaporean sees is very different from the rich places you see in the video above - their Singapore consists of HDB flats and void deck events like the occasional marriage, and old men playing chinese chess on stone benches. (Void decks are the empty spaces underneath HDP flats, designed to be community gathering points by the Government). This Singapore, is, I think, more realistic.

And there's also a dark Singapore, consisting of night clubs and KTV pubs and Thai bars, which my friends tell me range a spectrum of raciness. The old fashioned Chinese KTV pubs have older women singing and sitting with men, the younger Thai bars are covered in mist to hide vice (and other, erm, activities).

Singapore is beautiful, but only if you can afford it.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Perspective

Google's Go Talk
Here's an interesting thought experiment:

If you're human, like I am, you will work to improve your lot in life. Mostly this means that you will toil for success, some recognition, and for the ability to look yourself in the mirror every day and say that you're doing something of meaning. (This is sometimes — but not always — tied to your net worth - the society around you will unconsciously judge you based on how rich you are, even if it's not explicitly stated).

So say that you've spent the first few years of your working life going at it. You leverage your university education, hunt down opportunities, fight for promotions and then — after 10 years of hard work, get to a cushy middle management position.

You're not rich or successful, mind, but you're not that far off from it. Give yourself another 10 years and it's almost certain that you'll be at the top of your firm.

We know how a young, single, working professional looks like. Say you live a comfortable life: you have a nicely furnished apartment, a fiancé, and nice things to show off to your friends. At family gatherings your aunts ask how you're doing and you tell them and they chalk you up as one of the family's successes. Your parents are proud of you.

All is well. You keep working hard because you want to 'succeed in life'.

One afternoon, right after a very ordinary lunch break, a shadow passes over your desk. You look out of your office windows, and then you look up — you see the underbelly of a vast spaceship.

As you watch, the ship moves to the industrial area of your city, and then a beam of light lances down towards the ground.

You fly off your feet and hit the office wall in the resulting concussive roar.

In the next few years the human economy collapses as Earth goes to war; your firm cannot find any business as it makes no sense to do so. You are fired.

So here's the question: in such a scenario, does ambition matter? You have spent a good 30 years of your life getting a good education to get a good job to be able to show your aunts that you've Gotten Somewhere In Life.

And one alien attack takes it all away from you.

***

This is a rather contrived example, of course, but it's also a reminder that what we consider a normal life (i.e.: good school -> good university -> good job -> kids -> success) is not in any way ordinary.

After all, while an alien attack is unlikely, a global depression is not. Yuppies in the 1930s never saw it coming. Nor did they expect a World War. (Incidentally, it strikes me that growing up in the 1920s must have been a bloody interesting time.)

So what point am I making here? That's simple: don't take things for granted, even as you work your ass off. Life is too random and too weird to assume you have a God-given right to chase success.

(Oh, and, erm: keep an eye on the skies - you never know when a mothership will land and destroy everything you've worked for.)

Monday, January 23, 2012

A Lonely Chinese New Year

I'm having a lonely little Chinese New Year in Singapore - where the only highlight was an awesome dinner with cousins Aaron and Karen and their family.

A couple of quick, loosely connected thoughts: productivity is at an all-time high again, in proportion to the loneliness. This is one of those times where I'm absurdly thankful I'm not on Facebook; my friends tell me that it's depressing to see all their friends celebrating Chinese New Year back home. Sometimes ignorance really can be bliss.

Facebook Badges

I had a fascinating conversation a few days ago with Dr Connor Graham, the House Fellow for my floor. I was into my 5th glass of wine by that point (a dry white, a medium white, two glasses of Shiraz, and two flutes of sparkling wine), and was slightly wobbly, and so more prone to talk to Random Professors about Life, the Universe and Everything. In this case, what I found interesting was how his wife (who's from China) came to Singapore and discovered so many Chinese festivals that the mainland Chinese never celebrate, due in part to the PRC government's crackdown on culture over the past 50 years.

It's rather amazing to think that Chinese culture is preserved in immigrant communities such as in Malaysia, Indonesia, and Singapore, perhaps to a larger degree, than it ever was in Mainland China.

And so anyway, I'm going to leave you with that thought, as I go back to do my Operating Systems homework. Till we meet again, Gong Xi Fa Cai!

Sunday, January 15, 2012

The Most Productive Month Of My Life

I can't believe how productive I was in December:

  • I build the Unofficial CORS API, a programmer's interface to get data from NUS's course catalog. [4 days]
  • I built Treehouse - a project dashboard and community news site, again for NUS Hackers. [6 days]
  • I redesigned the NUS Hackers site, and got speakers from Google and RIM to sponsor and speak at our events. [7 hours]
  • I wrote a 4000 word essay for an O'Reilly book on publishing, due to be published in the middle of 2012. [4 days]
  • I wrote an article for NUS's The Ridge, on NUS Hackers. [2 hours]
  • Finished reading 5 books, including the entire Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy series. [God knows how long - but I loved every second of it.]
Part of the reason for this productivity, I think, was because most of my friends were either busy or away from Kuching. Ida and Sam were in London; Paul was preparing for his internship in Intel Penang, Garrick was too busy working on his Sugar Bun restaurant.

I spent most days at home, programming and thinking and reading and writing, and I will admit that I felt a little lonely when my sisters went out more than I did.

But: I'm amazed at all the work I've done, and I wonder if a little loneliness is good for all of us.