An exchange with Christian apologist Victor Reppert

I sometimes participate in the commentary on John Loftus's blog Debunking Christianity, and this affords me the opportunity to have discussions with some of the apologists that frequent it as well, attracted like moths to a flame, we might say. One such apologist that infrequently comments, at least since I've been following the blog, is Victor Reppert, who essentially follows in C.S. Lewis's line of thinking.

Loftus asked an open question on his blog a couple of days ago: "Question for Discussion: What evidence is there for Christianity?" (Link). Amid discussion about this or that in the Gospels or from the Epistles of Paul--which aren't exactly evidence, a point Loftus has been consistently and clearly able to defend for years--Reppert joined in to make a more sophisticated reply. Here it is, Reppert speaking in green:

Wouldn't it be an idea to come up with a concept of what we mean by evidence before we ask whether we have any? X is evidence for Y just in case Z?

To me, X is evidence for Y just in case X is more likely to exist if Y than if not-Y. But now, if we go with that definition, then the existence of reports that Jesus was resurrected from the dead is unlikely given the claim that Christianity is false. After all, most people do not have people claiming they were resurrected after they died. (Not even Elvis Presley, though there are people who claim he never actually died). But we should expect it to be reported if Christianity is true, so, in and of itself, the existence of resurrection claims on behalf of Jesus are evidence that Christianity is true. Plug it into Bayes' theorem and it ups the probability.

Now, you might say that that's crummy evidence, and in and of itself it surely wouldn't persuade much of anyone. But if you want to deny that it is evidence at all, you need to supplant my definition with one of your own.

I am willing to embrace the logical consequence that the testimony to the Golden Plates is evidence for Mormonism. But my view would be that the weight of the evidence is against Mormonism, not that there is absolutely no evidence at all for it. I've, for a long time, been asking for a definition of evidence that allows us to draw the conclusion that there is no evidence for Christianity, a claim I would NOT make even about such patently false claims as Mormonism, or even Scientology.

Okay, it would be nice to "come up" with a concept of evidence, but I would expect that the philosophy of science (and scientists) have this pretty well hashed out already. Perhaps, from Reppert's perspective, we still need to "come up" with one because it doesn't work for establishing that religions like Christianity are true?

In any case, I offered this reply, my interest piqued by his mention of Bayes's Theorem, upon which I've blogged before (which reminds me... I really need to write that piece about how the method I presented before, which I employed following Richard Carrier's use of the theorem, is not the best way to use Bayes's theorem):

Really?

That's evidence to add to the veracity of the resurrection using Bayes's theorem?

Only if you consider it against alternative hypotheses, for example--that people just make up stories about their hero figures. But you feel you've protected yourself from this by saying "most people do not have people claiming they were resurrected after they died." Hmm, don't need most. We only need big heroes, and really only need the death/rebirth theme.

Like...
Baal, Melqart, Adonis, Eshmun, Osiris, Dionysus, Tammuz, Ra, Ishtar, Persephone, Bari, Dumuzi, Asclepius, Achilles, Memnon, Alcmene, Castor, Heracles, Melicertes, Aristeas of Proconnesus, the boy raised by Elijah (1 Kings 17), the son of Shunammite woman raised by Elisha (2 Kings 4), body thrown into Elisha's tomb (2 Kings 13), and Lazarus, to limit ourselves to well-known ideas in the relevant region preceding the time of the writing of the gospels.

It's pretty hard to look at that list and think "people who wrote the bible would never have thought of that theme unless it really happened to Jesus." Contribution to Bayes's theorem? Not only would it be negligible if argued positive, it should be a hammer blow on the idea that such a story is "evidence" for the resurrection of Jesus, even by your odd definition.

Perhaps I should elaborate briefly upon why Bayes's Theorem is not favorable to Reppert here. Essentially, the existence of other resurrection-type stories that would have been preceding or contemporary with the writing of the gospels indicates that such stories are a likely alternative hypothesis to "someone actually came back to life magically." With evidence of this kind--this many stories, some of which from the Jewish tradition itself and others sharing other similarities with the Jesus narrative--Bayes's Theorem should return a lower posterior probability for the resurrection than whatever prior is assumed. So, erm, go ahead, Reppert, plug it into Bayes's theorem, but don't cheat.

What captured my attention here, leading to this blog post, is how Reppert responded to the above rebuttal.

Why is my definition an odd one? What would you replace it with?

That's all of it. I didn't cut that piece out particularly; it's the whole reply. Out of all of that, all he wants to focus upon is a comment made in passing about his definition? I have already responded and will close this post with my response to Reppert since it makes the major points that I would make from this observation:

First of all, let me note how weak it appears that you've decided only to respond to a nitpicking about a definition instead of to the substance of my argument. In fact, the comment I made about the definition you used was only made in passing, and yet almost inexplicably, it's the only content that you bothered to engage. I say "almost" inexplicably because I have a pretty good guess at the explanation--the usual trick of derail the substance of the conversation to focus on some triviality that may or may not create the appearance of undermining the perception of authority of the person making the argument against you.

Now, I call your definition an odd one because it reads that you would count as evidence anything that is more likely to occur under the conditions. On the one hand, this lets in some specious ideas as "evidence," and this confuses correlation and causation, on the other.

Specious ideas: You already demonstrated this for us. A story of Jesus' resurrection would be more likely if Jesus actually was resurrected. That's relatively undeniable. In strict logic, it reads: "If RESURRECTION, then RESURRECTION STORY." What you're trying to claim is an example of affirming the consequent: "so if RESURRECTION STORY, then RESURRECTION." The implication doesn't go both ways, as my comment clearly illustrated.

If those examples of resurrection-type myths aren't sufficient, perhaps I'll spin a few new ones here and now that consist of "evidence" that a real resurrection happened? You'd reject that as ridiculous because you actually understand that affirming the consequent is logically invalid--except when it comes to something you want to have established. This is why I call faith a cognitive bias.

Correlation and causation: As is well known, performance on certain kinds of intelligence tests come out remarkably higher for people with larger shoe sizes than for people without. This would mean, by your definition, that we might be able to conclude that larger shoes (or feet) imply more success on certain kinds of intelligence tests (with the implication of "more intelligence"). This inference is incorrect, though, because it confuses correlation and causation. Hopefully you'd expect it? Can you explain it? I can: adults, on average, wear bigger shoes than kids, and the tests referred to happen to be IQ tests written for adults, ones that kids have a hard time understanding.

Since the theme I want to convey in this post, aside from some notes about Bayes's theorem, is this diversionary tactic, the only thing I'll add to this response is that the usual trick of derailing the conversation would proceed this way if engaged in: Nitpick about the comment about the definition, get me to offer an alternative definition, and then waste time arguing over which definition is better. This allows the apologist to continue talking, continue avoiding his burden of proof, and appear knowledgeable (about words and perhaps scripture), all without adding the first bit of real substance to the conversation.

I consider this more evidence, by decent standards, that a (perhaps the) primary goal of religious apologetics is to distract from the apologist's burden of proof.

Handling those who mishandle Freedom From Religion Foundation challenges

I suppose it was inevitable since I live in the Southeastern US--a Freedom From Religion Foundation (FFRF) legal challenge came relatively nearby. Predictably, a local paper published the story, and predictably Christian Supremacists argued to "put prayer back in" where it hasn't even been taken out. Equally predictably, atheists and secularists (not all of whom are atheists) argued with the Christian Supremacists--many of whom bizarrely think that the Constitution is an "unwanted outside influence" because the FFRF happens to be located in Wisconsin. I want to write a short piece here highlighting how to handle these situations better.

First, let me note that it is imperative for everyone involved, particularly secularists, to remember that the full weight of the law and legal precedent falls on the side of secularism, barring the bizarre ruling in Texas regarding bible verses on high school cheerleading banners. The Establishment Clause of the First Amendment of the American Constitution has been clearly interpreted for decades to mean that it is unfairly exclusionary and thus illegal for public schools, county or city councils, school boards, etc., to open their meetings with a sectarian prayer of any sect or creed. The Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment has been consistently interpreted, with numerous examples of precedent, to be the legal backbone of this issue, and this is where we'll find the correct argument to make.

The point is clear, then. The point is equal protection before the law, consistent with the Fourteenth Amendment as applied to the First Amendment.

Since the law is relatively unambiguous in this case, the Christian Supremacists intent on making prayer a part of every meeting have only one main goal: cloud the discussion with red herrings to prevent anyone from focusing upon the law. This behavior is exactly what we see, and often, wanting to keep the records straight, secularists and particularly atheists seek to step in and correct these fallacies--which pulls the discussion further away from the proper focus: the law. I'll list a few of the most common red herrings involved here and how they pull the discussion off course.

The Founders (or Framers) Intended: This is almost always the first go-to argument among any relatively savvy defender of the illegal behavior: claim it was part of the original intent of the Founders of the United States and the Framers of the Constitution. This is a black hole. Do not go into it.

First of all, it doesn't matter what the Founders, Framers, or any other 18th century person thought about these matters, intended, wanted, or planned. Their vision, whatever it was, has been clearly elaborated upon and interpreted to mean--with the full weight of law and legal precedent--that the prayers are illegal. Thomas Jefferson himself could speak from his grave and say that's now how he wanted it to go, and it wouldn't matter because Thomas Jefferson would be on the wrong side of American law if he said so. Attempting to argue about their intent gives unwarranted credence to the idea that their intent matters. It doesn't. Point this fact out as often as necessary and don't engage the irrelevant argument itself.

Second, a monolithic original intent of fifty-five disagreeing men from the 18th century cannot easily be determined. Since it cannot be determined without enormous study, a substantive case cannot easily be made via "Founder's intent." We might ask: Which founder? At what point in his life? Why? Good answers to these questions will be very hard to come by and highly contentious. Even with good answers, though, none of this matters. The Christian Supremacists make their case because they cherry pick and appear to sound knowledgeable while distracting from the real legal point at the center of the discussion. This means that they will not respect a carefully researched argument about original intent if it disagrees with their position, and again the idea that the original intent matters is reinforced.

Third, the Founders are relevant to a time, place, and audience that is not timeless: 18th century white men of privilege, primarily. They did not believe in equal protection before the law, in fact, or at least a substantive case can be made that they did not. African slaves weren't freed until the 1860s and didn't get the first shake of anything like equality, particularly in the South, until the 1960s, a battle they still have to fight today. Women weren't even on the map in the late 18th century, having to wait until 1920 to earn suffrage and still having to fight for equality with men today. The Founders did not encode equal protection before the law to all citizens, which had to wait until the Fourteenth Amendment to get any legal traction for men and the Nineteenth Amendment for women. It still doesn't exist in full. We need not listen to the Founders on this point.

The point of this line of argumentation often includes that the First and Fourteenth Amendments have been interpreted against the Founders' original intentions or wishes. So what? The Founders' (here, Thomas Jefferson's, specifically) original intentions included "let later generations figure out the problem of slavery." Later generations figured it out by writing the Fourteenth Amendment (along with Thirteen and Fifteen), which applied to the First Amendment gives us what we're talking about here.

The "Founder's Intent" argument is a red herring used to distract the focus from the law of the land and its legal backing in judicial precedent. Our goals in advancing secularism, atheist or otherwise, have to keep our eyes on the ball: the illegality of the behavior being challenged.

The religion is/isn't true! Yes, we know. They don't, though, and this argument is often intractable. More importantly, it is a red herring from the relevant point about the illegality of the behavior. It doesn't matter if the religion is true or not in a secular society, and if a secular society could exist with a religion that is demonstrably true, it wouldn't even matter then. The law gives no preference to any sect or creed and thus no difference in treatment to anyone holding any sect or creed. This argument, then, is an unnecessary distraction that requires very little attention.

How would you like Muslim prayers? This is an often-given rebuttal by secularists, not an argument made by the Christian Supremacists themselves, and while we might hope that it would drive home an important point with them, it usually doesn't. Meanwhile, it creates another tangential discussion that distracts from the point about the legality of the matter.

It's important to note, because many Christian Supremacists will raise the point that in a different situation they'd be okay with Muslim (or other) prayers, that any sectarian prayer is still illegal for the same reason. It doesn't matter what they'd be okay with. What matters is that the core of secularism says that it is not okay at all for any sect, majority, minority, or otherwise. If this point comes up, it can be used to remind the point that all sectarian behavior is inappropriate, so the point they're trying to make is moot.

The only exception is if they were to offer equal time for prayer or invocation from every sect. There are tens of thousands of them. To represent all of them with one minute each would require more than a month with no breaks at the beginning of every meeting and would still exclude all nonreligious people. This is obviously impossible and still illegal because it excludes all nonreligious people.

Waste of valuable time and money: Indeed, it is. So since the law is unambiguous, instead of arguing this point, we should simply urge our agencies to concede to the FFRF challenges, follow the law, and stop wasting time and money. In a secular society, no one pays taxes--including the few dollars that might go toward facilitating a thirty-second prayer before a city council meeting--for the promotion of any sect. In fact, no one can pay taxes for that even if they want to because it would require a law directing taxpayer money for sectarian use. Engaging this point beyond a reminder of the law is unnecessary, however obvious it is that the cost of the lawsuit (which the local government will lose based on the clarity of the law and legal precedent) is an utter and irresponsible waste of taxpayer money.

Prayers don't have to be engaged in, so freedom is preserved:  This is less a red herring and more an attempt to reframe the discussion to be about religious freedom instead of about equality under the law. It needs to be addressed as it is actually key to understanding the proper legal argument. In fact, this argument carries some red herring with it because the argument is not over "freedom" but rather over equal treatment before the law.

So, no, freedom isn't preserved. The relevant freedom is that everyone in the country gets equal treatment before the law. This is impossible to maintain when a sectarian prayer, rite, ritual, etc., is engaged in or sectarian symbolism is displayed in a public place since by definition "sectarian" implies that there is an in-group (the sect) and an out-group (everyone else). It is not possible for a person of Group B (another sect or none) to have full confidence in the idea of equal protection before the law if the commission explicitly engages in behaviors that indicate a commitment to Group A (here, some brand or another of Christianity) at any point during the meeting. Equal treatment has already been compromised the instant anything gives even an ambiguous indication that there may be sectarian preference.

The correct argument:

The focus should stay on the law, and arguments that arise should aim to keep that focus clear. The law is not ambiguous. The Establishment Clause of the First Amendment has been interpreted via the Fourteenth Amendment to extend equal treatment under the law. Any attempts to include a sectarian prayer automatically violate this legally protected and worthy principle, and ignoring the FFRF challenge will result in a costly, wasteful lawsuit that will be lost after wasting taxpayer money and bringing embarrassment to the community.

My goal with this has been to urge secularists, religious and nonreligious, theist and atheist, to keep the focus on the proper aspect of the discussion when these discussions arise. The law is on our side.

Revisiting my case that the existence of God is infinitely unlikely

"There is probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life."

"Probably no God," but how unlikely is it?

Richard Dawkins, pictured above, is famous for his Spectrum of Theistic Probabilities, a scale from one, absolute belief, to seven, absolute unbelief. He remarks that a six on this scale is identifiable as "De facto atheist. Very low probability, but short of zero. 'I don't know for certain but I think God is very improbable, and I live my life on the assumption that he is not there.'" Dawkins referred to himself as a 6.9 on this scale. I wanted to explore what "short of zero" means.

In God Doesn't; We Do, I suggest that the existence of God is infinitely unlikely. This is handled by modern mathematical formalism by a term known as "almost surely," which means true off a set of "measure" zero. Measure is a modern mathematical term that generalizes the length of intervals and is the standard accepted basis for analysis (the field in which calculus lives) at present. To avoid a long, detailed, and abstract mathematical discussion, the idea is that places where the claim is false contribute literally no weight, even if they can be said to exist. In other words, the "very low probability" need not actually be "short of zero."

My essential claim in God Doesn't; We Do is that the probability that God exists is zero, almost surely, with the suggestion that Dawkins's position is more accurately 6.999... (which happens to be 7), without any loss of philosophical defensibility on his part to take that stand. Normally, I would say I have to prove such a claim, but the point I want to clarify here is that I don't think I actually do. That, indeed, is the trust of the argument I make in God Doesn't. Technically, I make this argument on a conception of God that does things and don't particularly need to make a case against abstract ideas called "God."

Burden of proof?!

Yes, I know. I accuse theologians of shifting the burden of proof (as an art form that defines their field) all the time, and it looks like that's what I'm doing here. It's not. I'll present an argument here attempting to establish that claim, noting the question-begging fallacy all along. Question begging means assuming the conclusion, for those unfamiliar, and it can be remarkably subtle in occurrence.

So, let's start big and work to small. We should all agree that it is question begging to state a priori that the probability that there is a God (or some specific God) is 100%. If you assume God exists from the outset, you are, by definition, begging the question. So the probability that God exists must be less than 100% to avoid philosophical indefensibility. N.B.: This assumes a position that understands probability as measurement of our state of knowledge. There are others that I am not employing here.

What about 50%? This is what Dawkins calls a four on his spectrum, and it is a state of pure agnosticism, given the nota bene at the end of the previous paragraph. I don't think we can honestly hold this position without begging the question, though, in the same way that I do not think that I can conclude that the fawning eyes of the women in lingerie catalogues have a 50% chance of being indicative of those women being in love with me. It is the case or it isn't, but that need not imply equal likelihood. Unless we start with God, it is very difficult to conclude that anything constitutes evidence for God, and if we look at the hole carved by science in attributional necessity for God, 50% seems a bit steep.

My job here, though, tempting a trap as it might be, is not to make the case that there isn't a 50% chance that God exists. It's to point out that it is the job of the person claiming that there's a 50% chance that God exists to be able to establish that. I don't feel such a number is warranted in any way whatsoever by the evidence of the world, and "it is or it isn't" is a fallacious way to think about the matter. Since "God" is the hypothesis of the theist, though, it is the theist's job to establish that 50% is a reasonable number. What case can be made for this without begging the question?

Fifty percent was the hurdle. The same argument applies going downward, so we can skip quickly to 5%. Is there a compelling argument that the number that describes the likelihood that God exists is at least 5%? My claim is that it is up to the theist to provide such an argument, or that we are not required to accept that claim.

As Dawkins points out with his "very low probability" in his spectrum, we can slide to 1% or 0.1% or 0.00001% on this same construction. Where is the argument saying that God's existence is at least that likely? How low is the "very low probability"? I contend that any positive number that a theist puts out requires defense or begs the question. If I wanted to do this in math-speak, for any small number epsilon greater than zero, assuming that the probability that God exists is epislon begs the question without a proper and solid defense.

But, you can't say that?!

The only defense the theist has at this point is "but you can't say that the probability is zero that God exists without proving it!" Well, two responses are warranted. First, I haven't. I said every positive probability begs the question without an argument to support it. Second, actually, I can say that, so long as I qualify it with "the probability is zero, almost surely, that God exists." Since "almost surely" admits wildly unlikely possibility, it does not run afoul of philosophical defensibility.

So, my claim is that unless a substantial argument can be provided that establishes a nonzero, almost surely, probability for the existence of God, theists beg the question to suggest any positive probability. Some "very low probability" can actually be zero, almost surely, then, and Richard Dawkins can describe himself as a 6.999... on his spectrum. Technically, 6.999... equals 7, but since he defined a seven as "Strong atheist. 'I know there is no God, with the same conviction as Jung knows there is one,'" perhaps this justifies the use of the nonstandard form of that number as a rhetorical device.

Supertruth, a definition

Joseph Goebbels famously said, "If you repeat a lie often enough, it becomes the truth."

This statement isn't technically accurate, of course, but it carries heavy meaning. A more accurate rendition would read: "If you repeat a lie often enough, it becomes a supertruth."

I've been using the word "supertruth" for a few months now, and to my knowledge, I made it up. It's a very useful term, and my purpose in this short post is to define it. So...

Supertruth, n.: A proposition held as true regardless of its actual validity.

Immediately upon reading this definition, we see what Goebbels was getting at in his famous utterance of how propaganda works. He was stating that uncritical acceptance, even to the point of defending a falsehood, is something that humans are prone to, and indeed something we are so prone to that we can be manipulated into doing it rather easily.

Supertruths form the bases of religions, political ideologies, and, indeed, much of how we get around on a day-to-day basis--as they close the gaps between our lack of actual confidence and our self-assuredness. Dogma, for what it is worth, is a class of supertruths--those that proceed from an authority. The connotation, generally, is "propositions held above any examination of their truth-value." Another popular word related here is that supertruths possess a certain amount of "truthiness."

Supertruths, it should be noted, can actually be true. For example, to draw from a popular political topic currently, "firearm ownership prevents crimes." This, no doubt, is true in many cases, but that's usually not why many people accept it. It also, of course, sweeps an awful lot under the rug, oversimplifying a complex issue, because the sense of control provided by accepting the statement is worth more than the actual validity of the statement. No doubt, many people would still maintain this supertruth even if it were demonstrated to be entirely false.

Another class of realms in which we will find many supertruths that may actually be valid are those where we cannot have complete knowledge due, usually, to complexity. Significant examples of such realms include economics, health/well-being, nutrition, and morality--fields that are still at least significantly arts, even if science is making inroads upon them.

On the other hand, supertruths, of course, need not be true, and often they are not. "Jesus lives (or saves)!" for example, is sheer nonsense, and yet billions maintain it. "Islam is a religion of peace" is another good, relevant example with massively significant consequences.

The examples of supertruths are myriad, so I don't intend to elaborate more on them here. This piece is merely intended to be a definition of a term I'm finding very useful. Therefore, I also do not intend to delve into the complex psychological and social reasons that human beings are so ready and insistent upon holding (and failing to re-examine) supertruths.

The three faces of Islamophobia

Islamophobia is a term that's flying around a lot lately. Some of this is warranted. Some of this is not. Unsurprisingly, it seems that those throwing it around--or brandishing it--the most are not taking the time to distinguish between the variety of meanings locked up in that word. It has a few of them, and from within that lack of clarity come at least three faces that are rather mashed together and yet really shouldn't be. I write this to hopefully offer some clarity on the matter to spur better thinking, better use, and proper direction of the term.

First, the dictionary: "Islamophobia, n.: Extreme or irrational fear of all Islamic persons."

Anyone paying attention will notice that this definition is accurate, seems to apply, and yet isn't exactly how the term seems to be used, given that it's applied equally to a number of different targets, some of whom quite clearly do not exhibit such a fear. Further, the fear is hardly the problem, even if it gives rise to the problem. The problem is bigotry, when it arises, which is actually a hatred, not a fear, of Islamic persons for the reason that they are Islamic persons. For that phenomenon, I suggest the term Islamomisia, which actually means hate... maybe.

The problem even here is that Islamomisia could easily be taken to mean a hatred of Islam, which raises a distinction that is critical. Islam is a religion. Religions, though believed, espoused, and practiced by people, are not people; they are sets of ideas and behaviors that arise thereof. It is perfectly possible to be Islamophobic or Islamomisic in the sense of hating the ideas without hating, fearing, or prejudging a single person or group of people. Still, following the dictionary definition of Islamophobia (taken from Google here), I'll let Islamomisia define the prejudicial hatred of all Islamic persons. Note, please, as was unfortunately highlighted by the recent bombing in Boston, that this implies nothing about race. This point will also be important later. Islam is, of course, a religion, not a race.

The three faces of Islamophobia, or Islamomisia

To cut straight to it, I'll enumerate three phenomena here wherein the term "Islamophobia," often meaning Islamomisa, gets used:

1. There is a genuine prejudice against Islamic people held by many people, notably in my experience in the United States, that genuinely could fit the definitions of Islamophobia and Islamomisia. It is worth noting that most of the people who present this genuine prejudice are right-wing Christians, often fundamentalists, and their hate is often inappropriately tied to race, with horrible and tragic consequences. As sad as it is to say, this behavior from that group is entirely to be expected, however deplorable it is. They tend to hate everyone that isn't them, if we haven't noticed. To be thorough, this phenomenon occurs in people outside of the right-wing Christian demographic as well.
2. There is a misapplication, usually opportunistic, of the term "Islamophobia" from Islamic apologists and some too-relativistic leftists onto (usually scholarly) critics of Islam--a set of ideas they don't want examined. The opportunism contained in this misuse of the term intentionally takes advantage of the too-easy tie in the minds of liberals to racism or bigotry, with copious examples of this behavior ready from group 1 (above), even though they don't apply to critics of the religion of Islam, including the Qur'an or the Hadith or the specific behaviors of any of its members. This misapplication is used to shut down criticism and is the primary meaning of the term that (usually scholarly) critics of Islam have in mind when they say that Islamophobia is a made-up term used to give undeserved protection to the tenets of Islam.
3. There is a misapplication, sometimes opportunistic, of the term "Islamophobia" used by Westerners far on the Left. While I think this usage is sometimes opportunistic, I think it is appears more often as a conflation of the ideas expressed in groups 1 and 2 (above). When opportunistic, the conflation is intentional. Though I intend to lay no indictment of intentions on anyone, this usage of the term is flying heavily from the far Left lately and has reached enough prominence to have been published in Salon, The Guardian, and Al Jazeera, in pieces that, so far as I can tell, border on libel in their unfounded accusations of bigotry.

These are the three faces of Islamophobia. The first group here is unable it seems, for whatever reasons, to distinguish between race and religion, and so real problems associated with racism arise. The second group is happy to blur the distinction between race and religion because, at least in the West, to be branded a racist is an ad hominem that effectively renders someone's opinions irrelevant, and the opportunists know it. The third group is varied, but it seems populated with many people who, for whatever reasons, appear all too ready to jump from religion of Islam to Muslim to "brown people" (their term, as I've run into it several times). The key thing to notice about these three faces is that they're all using the same word (or have it applied to them, as with group 1), but it doesn't mean the same thing in all three cases.

Speaking of group three, they've become quite the witch hunters lately too. It's well known that something appears to crop up an awful lot when we're looking for evidence to confirm that which we want to believe (Cf. Jesus on grilled cheese), and lo and behold, these folks are finding more and more "evidence" for it everywhere they look! The analogy to witch hunting hardly ends here. Witches at one time were guilty, once named, until proved innocent. We see that going on here. A monetary or social reward for finding witches helped to find an awful lot of them. What a way to get a viral piece written or get some notoriety in the "atheist community" it is to take on one of the big "New Atheist" "leaders" with a heavy accusation that would marginalize them. Of course, there are no witches. Making this situation all the more ugly is the fact that there are Islamophobes--who surprisingly enough appear to be beneath much significant commentary on the attack circuit (see social reward suggestion in previous sentence).

Is there an Islamophobia problem?

Yes, rather unequivocally. Some prominent folks have said that the term is made-up, and in its origins it may very well have been. I don't know, and I'm not concerned to find out just now (but would be interested). Certainly, though, it applies to group 1, mostly made up of "right-wing nutjobs." These people, some of whom hold positions in the United States government (probably in other governments as well), are actually prejudiced against Muslims--they are Islamomisic and possibly Islamophobic as well.

It does no one any good, so far as I can tell, to try to deny that this problem exists--as it clearly does. Unwarranted anti-Muslim (and anti-Sikh, and anti-"brown people") prejudice, discrimination, and violence have occurred, are still occurring, and will continue to occur. Those, like Dawkins and Harris, who have argued that Islamophobia is a made-up term fell afoul of this error and were raked over more coals than they deserved for making the mistake. Those who raked them might note that outrage, name-calling, and potentially libelous publications are a very, very bad way to capitalize upon point out an error that may have been nothing more than oversight or cognitive capture.

That real Islamophobia exists is not acceptable, and it is a significant social equality problem that will require quite a lot of work and time to change. Living down South, I can note that it is a very real problem, very common in some areas, and sadly unlikely to change anytime soon. This seems like a good time to remind everyone that this year, in 2013, a high school in Georgia is having it's first (racially) integrated prom, and there is significant resistance to that! It doesn't make it okay; it's just a statement of how it is, a note of how much work remains to be done. Doing that work poorly by accusing the wrong targets of crimes they didn't commit doesn't help at all.

Are the "New Atheists" Islamophobes?

I see no evidence to apply this term to these people, specifically meaning the big names lately accused (Sam Harris, Richard Dawkins, the late Christopher Hitchens, Daniel Dennett, and a handful of others (Salman Rushdie, anyone?)). As the term "Islamophobe" carries a charge of bigotry, which is intensely damaging to someone's reputation, personal and professional, I feel that significant and clear evidence needs to be produced to make such a pronouncement. Indeed, this is rather the basis of the modern legal system in the West which has set a model for justice to aspire to: innocence until proven guilt.

These "New Atheists" are famous for writing criticisms of religions, sometimes scathing ones. Those criticisms are of ideas or, at times, of individuals whose guilt is proven. I have read a great deal of their work, some of it that challenged my thinking significantly, and not a single piece ever gave me the impression that they were making bigoted statements against entire demographics of people. As to race, Hitchens frequently even argued that there is no such thing!

Sam Harris's discussion of profiling, which is becoming something of an icon in this shitstorm, was mostly a discussion of statistics and limited attentional resources, along with the sheer ridiculousness of seeing whether certain people might be terrorists (e.g. a three-year-old child and an infirm couple far advanced in years). A key thrust of his argument was that it does no one any real favors to weaken security so that a standard of extreme(ly ridiculous) equality is conveyed. In fact, it's dangerous. Importantly to my discussion, that essay does not contain or constitute significant or clear evidence of anything remotely close to a charge of bigotry. To levy that charge without sufficient evidence is irresponsible and potentially libelous--which is rightly illegal. Please note well: If people are actually bigots, they should be noted as such, but the burden of proof lies on the accuser. Do not forget that. Ever. It is important.

Now, there are people who would very much like for the "New Atheists" to be Islamophobes--but an accusation of any individual without evidence would not be appropriate. A list of general categories from which we might expect them would certainly include many if not most Islamic apologists (particularly fundamentalists), their Christian detractors, some on the far-left who believe in extreme(ly dangerous) cultural relativism, and left-wing writers--including atheists--who want the reputation that would come from tackling a great. Let them produce real evidence, then, and let them beware pareidolia--and libel suits.

It bears noting here that however much someone may disagree with Sam Harris's profiling piece or his other thoughts, there is not sufficient evidence at all to jump to any indictment on his part of "brown people" or even of Muslims in general. It disgusts me to even have to have typed that. Again, though, if someone wants to prove it, let them prove it. And if someone wants to believe it, let them remember the burden of proof, presumption of innocence, and their commitment to evidence-based thinking. We can't expect so much out of opportunistic Islamic apologists, but we can expect more out of freethinking writers in the West.

Do the "New Atheists" contribute to real Islamophobia?

This is far harder to say. The answer is, however, very probably not--at least not much. As noted previously, it is probably uncontroversial to point out that a majority of true Islamophobes, especially in the U.S., are right-wing Christians. It's probably equally uncontroversial to point out that that faction of these people aren't likely to be reading Sam Harris or Christopher Hitchens. These people are in an ugly quandary, even if they're practiced at cherry picking, if they are reading Harris or Hitchens, etc.: to use them as anti-Islamic sources they have to agree openly with noted atheists who also levy heavy criticisms of Christianity. In my personal experience, which is anecdotal, of course, most are not reading anything like Harris or Hitchens, however, and are simply content in their bigotry.

So...
There are a lot of people yelling about Islamophobia. There's a lot of confusion about it. There are a lot of accusations flying about that border on (or are) libel for the purpose of character assassination. I'd urge people to commit to a higher standard before being so careless with such things. At least, for goodness's sake, aim it at those who are actually doing it, using evidence to establish the fact and only accusing people whose guilt can actually be demonstrated! There are more than enough examples to go around without having to resort to wanton accusations laid because of a disagreement of opinions that have nothing to do with actual bigotry.

Do remember, though, if yelling about Islamophobia is the narrative someone needs to maintain their sense of the world: no amount of yelling about Islamophobia, warranted or otherwise, will make Islam a true set of ideas.



Edit (5-21-2013): A commenter pointed out that the term "islamomisia" has been in use for some time now, perhaps since 2001. A quick search of the term uncovers a discussion about it from 2007, at least, so please don't make the mistake of believing that this term originated with me, and pardon that I didn't look to see if my suggestion on terminology had already been employed.

Dear Glenn Greenwald, Maybe you can teach me to liberal

Dear Glenn Greenwald,

You've stirred up a pot of shit lately via your exchange with Sam Harris about Islam(ophobia). I've been watching this play out, reading sets of commentary from both of you, observing the back-and-forth, watching people argue on behalf of your case (since I already agree with Harris's I looked at less of that), and reading through your Twitter feed on occasion. What I've determined is that I'm apparently doing my liberaling wrong, and I'm hoping you can set me straight.

To introduce myself briefly, I'm pretty damned liberal. I'm highly educated, and I live in the Southeastern US, which makes me something of a sore thumb around here. I'm told pretty frequently about how communist and socialist I am (actually, I'm neither, I just support a progressive tax structure, believe in global warming, and want to keep creationism out of the science classroom), what a threat to my nation I am, and how I'm not wanted in this country because of my political orientation. I thought I was liberaling pretty well, studying subjects like economics and political theory in my spare time while keeping abreast of science, all while giving people the chance to prove themselves on who they are, not what they are, but lately, I'm questioning my liberal core. You are the reason, Mr. Greenwald. I don't think I'm liberaling right anymore, and watching your discussion with Sam Harris, also a liberal, really started to convince me of that.

Something today really got me curious about wanting to ask you about this, about how to liberal correctly. Earlier today, you tweeted on Twitter about the Boston Marathon bomber(s). Of course, you're mostly responding to the hysterical right wing in America and their incessant claims that "terr'ist Muslins" are to blame. I feel that you might be confusing these folks with other targets of your criticism on "Islamophobia," most notably Sam Harris and some of the folks defending him. Anyway, here's what you tweeted:

As @emptywheel suggests, it's far from clear Boston is "terorrism". What if it was done by someone w/apolitical mental illness, like Aurora?
— Glenn Greenwald (@ggreenwald) April 17, 2013

This is where I'm lost. Correct me if I'm wrong here, but didn't you just lump everyone with "mental illness" together regardless of their individual situations or personalities? I know that liberals are really against doing this kind of thing, lumping people together and making blanket statements about the whole when a more nuanced argument is necessary, as you've readily proved by repeatedly pointing out that Harris is a bigot for criticizing Islam and daring to suggest that statistically effective methods, like profiling in certain security-based circumstances, might produce a better result than ignoring statistics altogether while consuming enormous amounts of resources to achieve a far worse result that essentially no one is happy about.

Here's the part where I get even more about this. Sam Harris criticizes the teachings of Islam, the tenets of a religion that people, more or less, choose to be a part of (or do they?). But it looks like you're pointing out that the bomber may have just been someone with a mental illness, which not only provides absolutely no useful information in this circumstance, but particularly is something beyond that person's capacity to choose. Since the first of the preceding points is likely to be unclear, let me note that since anyone who would blow up a bunch of innocent people isn't operating in the normal frame of mind, we could define entire swaths of "mental illness" as the willingness to take part in this behavior. I suppose we have to be careful, though, since a nontrivial proportion of Muslims does this, claiming motivation by their religious beliefs, which we shouldn't conflate with their race. Is that right? Or must we conflate it with race? Or only when we want to make a particularly liberally point?

So liberals are supposed to blame things like "mental illness," no matter how stigmatizing, damaging, useless, unfair, and beyond someone's control, but they cannot point out that problems could arise from someone who subscribes to particular facets of an organization--one that they could choose to leave at any time if they so desired--well known to be involved in perpetrating this kind of crime as an artifact of believing the things at the center of their organization? Mental illness is such a convenient label, though, isn't it? It makes the perpetrator into a victim, and it makes it easy to point fingers at our shoddy state of mental healthcare. It's far easier to do that than to untangle and challenge the belief system of one of the most reactionary, dangerous religions on the planet, isn't it?

Are you seeing where I'm lost? I feel very much like I'm, as a liberal, supposed to only criticize groups of people for holding bad ideas for bad reasons, ones that reliably produce bad results, if it is beyond their control to hold them, as with mental illness. This is hard to make sense of, which is presumably why I'm feeling like I'm not too good at liberaling and am writing you for advice.

Now, speaking of conflating things, as a good liberal, am I supposed to do like you're doing and conflate the reactionaries, who are mostly Christians (SHH! Racism...), with the carefully nuanced scholars? As a liberal, am I to realize that careful explorations of difficult issues is essentially on par with the yammering of embarrassing fools? Do I do that because it's useful to make the point or for some better reason? Like if I quote-mine to call Sam Harris an Islamophobe and then link to an article to indicate that Islamophobia is a real problem, I should choose some hillbilly Republican (Christian, shh... racism) from North Carolina ranting on his "terr'ist Muslin" box to make my point, right? That's how to be liberaling the right way? I just want to be clear.


Another question, while I have you: are you aware of the work Harris has done regarding free will? He has some pretty interesting things to say about mental illness and justice. Of course, I don't think he said anything there that can be opportunistically misconstrued into a claim of being bigoted against "brown people," so I understand if you haven't familiarized yourself with that aspect of his work. I'll give a quick primer--not that I'm necessarily an expert in this field.

It seems to be the current state of research that we don't have this "libertarian free will" that seems to sit at the middle of a lot of beliefs in the West. Harris put together quite a little piece about this, in case you haven't seen it (it is called Free Will), indicating that we may indeed be acting on prior causes below and beyond our conscious awareness or abilities to choose. When these actions include heinous crimes, then we have a pretty serious question in front of us about how to handle the matter since, in a real sense, the perpetrators are also victims of circumstances.

I'm having a very hard time sorting out how to be liberal correctly with all of these complicated factors. So far, I've figured out following you guys that it's apparently not okay to blame Islam (a set of ideas) for anything, however many Muslims use the doctrines of that religion to do horrible, violent, oppressive things (how many women in Islamic nations were beaten for Allah while I wrote this or while you read it?--SHHHH, racism!), because that might be insensitive to "brown" people (which makes no sense since Islam is a religion not a race or color). Evidently this restriction includes even avoiding asking people to question the ideas at the center of that religion as ideas because it's "phobic" to their racial identity to do so. On the other hand, I can blame whatever I want on "mental illness," which is certainly something millions or billions of people suffer from without ever committing any crimes, particularly any violent ones. Can I note that these people did not choose to become mentally ill, cannot choose to become mentally well in most cases, and cannot examine any set of precepts that have very little foundation in reality and yet form the basis of their mental illnesses? How do I liberal myself correctly around these questions?

Now here's where I really get lost, and I'll cut this correspondence after I ask. What if the religions are actually sometimes causing the "mental illnesses" that lead to these kinds of problems, like back in 2001 when [don't talk about it specifically because it might be racist] happened? What if, in fact, the religions are "mental illnesses" of a particular kind? I'm pointing particularly at the hardcore fundamentalist kinds here. At what point do I stop being a responsible "liberal" in blaming "mental illness" and start being a "bigot"? Is it when I name the "mental illness"? Is it when I suggest that having that particular "mental illness" might be a significant source of leading to a particular kind of problem? Is it when I point out that defending the context in which that "mental illness" exists, spreads, and damages minds in consequential ways might be a real problem, even if it only manifests (reliably) in a small percentage of people infected with it?

I really appreciate your time and attention. I look forward to your reply, so I can get back to being as liberal as I'm supposed to be.

Sincerely and with kind regards,
James Lindsay, Ph.D.

Pope Francis, at least make your lies useful

In the homily of his Holy Saturday mass, the new pope, Francis, said this:

[There is] [n]o situation God can’t change, no sin he can’t forgive if only we open ourselves to him.

This is a lie, of course, and it only takes a little bit of looking around to recognize it. That's why I call it a lie instead of an error. Pope Francis is an educated man. He's not a moron. He knows it isn't actually true, whatever he has deceived himself into thinking or however much he values orthodox platitudes.

I want to modify Francis's statement to consider it slightly differently. If you'll indulge me:

There is no situation modern medicine can’t change, no problem it can’t fix if only we make use of it.

This is also a lie, of course. There are a large number of problems that modern medicine can't fix, and they are so numerous as to be exempt from having to list examples. On the same criteria I've judged Francis's statement a lie, this statement is also a lie. It is worth noting that no doctor, no nurse, no scientist, no researcher, no academic, and no medical expert of any kind makes this claim, even about incredible medical advances that may await us in the coming centuries.

If I take a consequentialist tack, though, and examine the results of embracing these two beliefs, what is the likely outcome? Well, surely believing this claim about modern medicine would make for many gross errors in judgment with catastrophic results in many cases. On the other hand, since God almost surely doesn't exist and more surely doesn't do anything, it must be the case that the statement about God, if taken seriously, would inherently lead to more disastrous gross errors in judgment. At least relying upon modern medicine would help in cases where modern medicine can help.

That is, on believing the second lie, we should expect to see many of the same errors but millions and millions of successful cases that would have failed under the God lie. Thanks, Francis, for your feel-good rejoinder of dangerous nonsense. Faith healing deaths are one example where preventable tragedies happen because of believing what you said.

Had Francis uttered the second lie and then gone on to qualify it, mentioning that it is most wise to lean upon the understanding where we have it, for example regarding questions surrounding birth control, AIDS, and abortion, he would have made a vastly more useful statement than the hollow one he made, without even bothering to examine the rubbish about "sin" (which contradicts the scriptural claim in Mark 3:29 that blasphemy against the Holy Spirit--not rape, not enslavement, not brutal homicide, not genocide--is an unforgivable sin).

Of course, as it is a lie, I do not encourage anyone to put belief in a statement as ridiculous as that medical science can fix any problem, but in the right spheres, those regarding the health of our bodies and increasingly of our minds, I put medical science way, way ahead of "God," whatever Francis means  by that word.