New Atheism

A Survival Guide

Graham Veale

• Publisher: Christian Focus Publication
• eBook ISBN:
  9781781913925
• Year: 2014

1

How to Slay a Spaghetti Monster

“It makes one feel such a fool.”

“I know,” assented the other, “but one often has to choose between feeling a fool and being one.”

GK Chesterton, The Strange Crime of John Boulnois

Mockers resent correction,
so they avoid the wise.

Sneer Pressure

I’ll begin with a simple lesson for anyone who wants to teach. You can be opinionated; you can be controversial. You can consider the bizarre, the heretical and the reactionary. But you can never, ever, be dogmatic. Today you might know more than your students; one day they might know more than you. So be patient; your students are fighting a long battle. They need time to form their ideas, and to settle on their beliefs. And if their opinions differ from yours, so much the better. You are meant to free their minds from yours.

Of course, it’s never pleasant to have your ideas challenged in class. So you have several options when a student challenges your opinions. If the student has made a simple factual error, you should correct them. If the disagreement is over interpretations, simply state why you disagree with the student. But help them to state their objection with greater clarity, and more precision. Encourage students to pursue their own ideas in their own time. The best teachers engage with opinionated students, offering guidance and even incorporating that student’s viewpoints into the class.

But there is another course of action that is too tempting for many teachers to resist—especially for those in higher education. The academic holds all the cards in the lecture theatre. He has and he is the authority. So it is all too easy to ridicule the student’s ideas in front of her peers. Or, at the very least, make her seem backward, ill-informed and out of fashion. Doesn’t she know that her ideas have been abandoned long ago, and are dismissed in the latest publications? Who has put these ridiculous notions in her head? The student’s question is not thoroughly examined. Her position is dismissed without critique. We can’t have the Professor’s opinions challenged by an undergraduate, can we?

This is the strategy pursued by the New Atheists. Dawkins’ grasp of philosophical arguments wouldn’t get him a pass grade in a high school class. But he doesn’t mean to deal with the questions that theists are asking. He’s ridiculing his opponents’ position. The reasons for theism must be so bad, why even read about them? My goodness, no, you just dismiss them. For example, Dawkins asserts that scientists who hold orthodox Christian beliefs ‘stand out for their rarity and are a subject of bafflement to their peers in the academic community.’ He cites surveys to show that the majority of scientists do not believe in a personal God, and that the vast majority of Nobel Laureates are unbelievers.

In The God Delusion Dawkins discusses a similar tactic in a section entitled ‘The Argument from Admired Religious Scientists’. There Dawkins, correctly, ridicules the idea that the existence of theistic scientists, past or present, is some-how evidence for the existence of God. So why mention that ‘American scientists are less religious than the American public generally, and that the most distinguished scientists are the least religious of all’ or that Nobel Laureates don’t tend to be religious? If we can’t use religious scientists as evidence for God’s existence, why argue against God’s existence from admired non-religious scientists?

So maybe Dawkins is pursuing a very different strategy. Perhaps it isn’t so much that Dawkins wants young scientists reading his book to consider these statistics as evidence against the existence of God. Rather Dawkins is showing young scientists what they need to believe to fit in with the elite. No-one who wants to be considered well informed could possibly consider theism as an option. Don’t they know it’s all just fairy tales and imaginary friends?

We can dub this rhetorical strategy ‘sneer pressure’. The aim is to gain converts by peer pressure, to make the faithful feel foolish and out of place in the modern academic environment. The reader is pressured to yield to the Professor’s superior intellect, and to conform to the norms of the ideal rational community. The New Atheists have not offered one original argument for atheism. But they’ve plenty of original insults. Dawkins merely talks about theistic arguments in condescending terms, and implies that the well-educated would never take a theist seriously. If a young man or woman wishes to get ahead in the academy they should be advised to drop any religious conviction as soon as possible. This must be a sobering thought for those at the bottom of the academic food chain.

Dawn of the Spaghetti Monsters

The New Atheism aims to present theism as a backward superstition held by rednecks and suicide bombers. Theistic beliefs are not critiqued, but mocked and caricatured. And the strangest of all the caricatures is the Flying Spaghetti Monster. The monster started life as a clumsy parody of the Intelligent Design Movement. Physics graduate Bobby Henderson wrote an open letter to the Kansas State Board of Education asking if his ‘Flying Spaghetti Monster’ (or FSM) could have a place on the science curriculum alongside other theories of Intelligent Design.

I and many others around the world are of the strong belief that the universe was created by a Flying Spaghetti Monster. It was He who created all that we see and all that we feel. We feel strongly that the overwhelming scientific evidence pointing towards evolutionary processes is nothing but a coincidence, put in place by Him…

Some find that hard to believe, so it may be helpful to tell you a little more about our beliefs. We have evidence that a Flying Spaghetti Monster created the universe. None of us, of course, were around to see it, but we have written accounts of it. We have several lengthy volumes explaining all details of His power. Also, you may be surprised to hear that there are over 10 million of us, and growing. We tend to be very secretive, as many people claim our beliefs are not substantiated by observable evidence. ⁵

The Flying Spaghetti Monster became an internet phenomenon, spawning a parody religion. It appeared on numerous web-sites and blogs. Bloggers began to refer to themselves as ‘Pastafarians’. Someone wrote an FSM bible, someone else formulated a liturgy. Evangelistic tracts were produced. Scientific and photographic ‘evidence’ was fabricated to convince ‘unbelievers’ of the existence of the FSM. Richard Dawkins gave his blessing. All this pseudo-religious activity was manufactured in an effort to ‘send up’ the Christian Church. Thousands of atheists seem to think that the send-up works.

The point of the FSM satire seems to be that belief in God always requires blind faith; a faith that always ignores the relevant evidence. But we can believe in any ridiculous idea if we have enough faith. If we ignore the evidence we can believe in whatever we choose. If it is acceptable to have blind faith in God, or the atonement, or the incarnation then we can believe in anything we like. We can have blind faith in fairies or ghosts, or Flying Spaghetti Monsters. Faith in God is deconstructed—it just looks silly in this sort of company.

This is powerful agitprop—grouping belief in God with a belief that no rational person would ever take seriously. As soon as you start to explain why belief in God is superior to belief in a piece of sentient pasta, your whole worldview sounds a bit suspect. But, as this book will show, the parody is clueless and pointless; Christianity does not depend on blind faith. The FSM parody only manages to trivialise an important debate.

How the Monster Came Out of its Teapot

The FSM is meant to update Bertrand Russell’s ‘celestial teapot’, an argument that Richard Dawkins revived in The God Delusion. Richard Dawkins acknowledges that he cannot prove that God does not exist, but maintains that this is not a ground for agnosticism. Dawkins thinks that in the absence of evidence the only rational viewpoint is one of disbelief. To make his point, he draws on Bertrand Russell’s story of a celestial teapot.

Suppose an astronomer claims that between Earth and Mars a teapot that it is too small to be observed, even by the most powerful telescopes, orbits the sun. Should we believe the astronomer? The teapot is so small he can’t prove that it exists. But we cannot prove that it does not exist either. Since there is no evidence either way, does this mean we should be agnostic about the existence of the teapot? Should we take the view that there is a 50:50 chance that it exists?

Clearly not. In the absence of evidence, we should think that there very probably is no celestial teapot. The same, Dawkins claims, is true of God. He claims that, if there is no good evidence for the existence of God, atheism is the only rational position. He claims that when there is no evidence, we should not suspend belief. We should disbelieve. After all, wouldn’t the onus be on adults who believe in the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus to make their case?

Is there Life on Mars?

So the basic idea is—if there is no evidence for the existence of an entity, you should believe that the entity probably doesn’t exist. That sounds like common sense on the first reading. But consider the following claims:

(a) ‘Intelligent life now exists on the surface of our moon’

And

(b) ‘Life exists on several planets in our universe’.

Now, we’d seem to be justified in rejecting (a). We’ve relatively good knowledge of our moon, and it just doesn’t seem that we could find intelligent life on its surface. ⁶

But we’d be much more hesitant in rejecting (b). The universe is a big place. Other ‘earth-like’ planets might be out there. But we don’t know how many planets capable of sustaining life exist in our universe. We just don’t have enough information to make a definitive judgment. There is a clear lesson here: in some cases, such as Santa Claus and fairies, a presumption of non-belief is appropriate. In other cases, like the possibility of plant or animal life elsewhere in our universe, it is not. What explains the difference?

Sometimes we just don’t have enough background information to make an informed judgement. Sometimes we do. And that’s the difference between believing that little green men live on the Moon and believing that a little green fungus is growing on a planet far, far away. What we know about the Moon makes it seem unlikely that ET is attempting to make a phone call from its surface. But we do know that the universe is so vast that there’s at least a chance that life exists somewhere out there. One day the human race may even find evidence of this life.

We can feel fairly confident that NASA hasn’t sent crockery into orbit. So we’ll dismiss the celestial teapot. So what about God? Is he like the teapot, ET on the Moon or the existence of life elsewhere in the Universe? It’s a matter of considering the background information. Our knowledge of our moon rules out a good chance of life existing there. Our knowledge of the space exploration industry rules out the theory that it would waste resources by putting tea cups in space. What about Flying Spaghetti Monsters and God? Does our background knowledge mean that their existence is probable or improbable?

Nessie versus the Flying Spaghetti Monster:
Whoever Wins We Lose…

Our background knowledge of the universe certainly rules out absurd entities—like living, sentient pasta with magical abilities. In our experience pasta isn’t the sort of thing that goes around creating anything, never mind universes. Spaghetti doesn’t typically gain mystical powers. If the FSM ‘worshipper’ wants to ‘argue’ that the FSM is made of invisible, intangible, eternal pasta, I’m afraid that I’ll have to point out that we’re not really talking about spaghetti anymore.

Let’s take an example that is a little more tangible, just to grasp how background knowledge helps us decide which theories we should take seriously. Instead of a Spaghetti monster, let’s consider the Loch Ness monster. ⁷ For generations, eyewitnesses there have reported sightings of a large beast, often with at least one hump protruding from the surface waters of the loch. Some reported seeing fins or flippers on the creature. Many of these eyewitnesses were sensible, sober and well-educated.

The Loch Ness Monster (‘Nessie’) generated significant media interest (and several terrible movies). Scientific expeditions were organised, and in 1975 a team led by Robert Rines, a lawyer with training in physics, registered a large moving object on sonar. The team even managed to take photographs. With computer enhancement the photos revealed what appeared to be the flippers of a large aquatic animal.

Sir Peter Scott, a respected naturalist, was impressed with the photograph. This boosted the prestige of Rine’s findings. But then Scott advanced a theory that caused stock in the ‘Nessie’ hypothesis to plummet. Scott suggested that the creature in the photograph was a Plesiosaur, a giant long-necked reptile that went extinct with the dinosaurs. This was too much for the zoological community, which dismissed Scott’s idea as preposterous.

Was the zoological community right to assume that plesio-saurs do not live in the loch? In the 1970s, it would have been very difficult to prove that a beast was not present. Loch Ness stretches for 24 miles, and its sheer walls are 800ft deep. The loch is filled with peat particles, which limit visibility to a few feet. The steep sides play havoc with sonar, and changes in water temperature can create sonar images where no target exists. It would have been extraordinarily difficult, and prohibitively expensive, to organise an expedition to search the whole loch.

But even though zoologists could not search the loch to rule out the presence of a plesiosaur, their background knowledge justified their belief that plesiosaurs did not dwell in the loch. It is highly unlikely that large reptiles, like Plesiosaurs, could survive the events that eliminated the dinosaurs. If a few did somehow survive, Plesiosaurs were cold blooded creatures, and would find it difficult to live in the cold waters of Loch Ness, even if they had made their way from the ocean to the loch.

It is extremely unlikely that the loch could support a family of animals as large as Plesiosaurs. Chemical nutrients are relatively few, and the peat particles that make visibility so poor also prevent light from penetrating deep into the water. This prevents plant growth, which limits the amount of plankton that the loch can support. This leaves the loch with surprisingly few fish—certainly not enough to sustain a family of Plesiosaurs for hundreds of thousands of years.

So the background knowledge available to zoologists justified their response to Sir Peter Scott’s Plesiosaur hypothesis. Back-ground knowledge can also give us estimates on the likelihood of Vampires, Werewolves, Giant Octopi that drown bathers in North American Lakes, and strange little Mexican beasts that suckle on goat’s blood. By contrast, background knowledge doesn’t help us to reach a clear estimate of the probability of intelligent life existing in the visible universe. We don’t know enough as yet. But in general it can give us a good idea about what is physically possible.

But how can background knowledge about the physical universe give us probabilities about things which are not physical? What about entities that exist outside space and time? In other words, does our background knowledge of the physical universe rule out the possibility that God exists? It can tell us a lot about many things purported to exist in the physical universe. But God is meant to exist outside the physical universe. God would be transcendent. God would not be made of physical parts, and he would not be limited by space, time, or the laws of nature.

Only physical beings exist in the physical universe. So it would be a circular argument to assert that the physical universe tells us that non-physical beings can’t exist, or probably don’t exist. Our background knowledge of the physical universe only tells us what physical events are probable in the physical universe. Knowledge of what is physically possible in our universe doesn’t tell us much about what is possible beyond our physical universe.

How to Slay a Spaghetti Monster

So although it can teach us which physical beings are unlikely, it seems very unlikely that our knowledge of the physical universe can directly rule out transcendent, non-physical, entities. Can our background knowledge of the universe tell us nothing about how sensible it is to take the idea of God seriously? Are we doomed to agnosticism?

Not at all. We can still ask if God’s existence would function as a good hypothesis. ⁸ If Theism is a good hypothesis, then we could discover that God’s existence is probable. History teaches us to prefer simpler hypotheses. The fewer entities, properties, laws or kinds of entity or property postulated by a hypothesis, the simpler it is. So if theism is a simple hypothesis, it could be worth taking seriously.

That sounds a bit abstract. We can illustrate the importance of simplicity by thinking of Kepler drawing ellipses to show the path the Earth takes around the Sun. Kepler had a limited number of observations that showed the heavenly bodies at different points at different times. He could have drawn a wild, winding, circuitous path. But the ellipse was the simplest path available that accounted for the evidence. That’s what he drew, and it turned out to be the best explanation.

Similarly, Newton’s Theory of Motion is simple, postulating only four very general laws in its simplest formulation. Even in abstract subjects like logic and mathematics, theoreticians seek out a few simple rules that account for a potentially infinite amount of observations. And so on, and so on. The history of thought teaches us to look for simple theories.

The Simplicity of Serial Killers

Perhaps this still sounds very abstract and academic; let’s illustrate our point a little more with two tragic tales. In 1912 Bessie Mundy drowned in her bath after having a seizure. In 1913 Alice Burnham was found dead in her bath in her home in Blackpool after suffering a fit and drowning. Then, in 1914, Margaret Lofty was found dead in her bath in the town of Highgate. Once more, doctors suspected that the unfortunate lady had suffered an epileptic fit.

Gradually more facts emerged which linked the three cases. All three women were recent brides. All three had made a will, with very generous terms for their husbands, just before they drowned. All three women had married exactly the same man just before they died. He had used different names on each occasion, but police soon identified George Joseph Smith as the lucrative widower. Smith never confessed to any crime, and no physical evidence tied him to the death of his wives. His defence maintained that he was unlucky in love, and hoped that judge and jury would buy that explanation.

The judge was not convinced that anyone could be that unlucky, and the jury opined that there was a simpler explanation available. The justice system concluded that Smith murdered each woman for money. One man motivated by greed was more likely than chance to produce these deaths; and certainly more likely than a rather unusual form of epilepsy which only occurs when the sufferer encounters warm water after writing her will. Smith was convicted of murder.

Fast forward one century. Between late October and early December 2006, five young women, all prostitutes and victims of Britain’s drug culture, were murdered in the city of Ipswich. Police immediately went on the hunt for a serial killer. It was much more probable that a serial killer was responsible for all five deaths, than a vast criminal conspiracy. And even though these young ...

Table of contents

• Testimonials
• Title
• Indicia
• Contents
• Acknowledgements
• Preface—When Atheism Went Viral
• 1. How to Slay a Spaghetti Monster
• 2. Science Falls into a Gap
• 3. Design, Dawkins, and the Problem with Having a Big Brain
• 4. Hey—Where’s the Evidence?
• 5. Whales, Tall Tales, and Miracles
• 6. The Insider Test for Faith
• 7. A Gospel for Good Men and Scoundrels
• Other Books by Christian Focus
• Christian Focus