Bahnsen on “Knowing
the Supernatural”
A Examination of Chapter
31 of Bahnsen’s Always Ready: “The Problem of Knowing the
‘Super-Natural’”
This
essay presents a comprehensive interaction with the 31st chapter of
Christian apologist Greg Bahnsen’s book Always Ready, entitled “The
Problem of Knowing the ‘Super-Natural’.” It was first published as a series of
18 installments on my blog Incinerating Presuppositionalism
in August and September 2007. A jump
page on my blog features links to all 18
installments. An internet
version of the 31st chapter of Bahnsen’s book Always Ready
is available to those who are interested in reading it. Page numbers refer to
Bahnsen’s book unless otherwise noted. Except for the first and the last, the
section titles follow those in Bahnsen’s chapter.
Introduction
Bahnsen
titles the thirty-first chapter of his oft-celebrated apologetics book Always
Ready “The Problem of Knowing the ‘Super-Natural’.” Given this title, one
might expect that in this chapter Bahnsen will illuminate his readers on how
one can confidently gather and validate knowledge about what he calls “the supernatural.”
Unfortunately, anyone expecting this is in for a big disappointment. He leaves
so many obvious and basic questions untouched that it should become clear to
any reader that something other than informing his readers on how to discover
what he claims to know must be the focus of this chapter.
Nonetheless
a thorough review of Bahnsen's chapter on "knowing the supernatural"
is relevant to an exploration of presuppositional apologetics. Defenders of
Christianity often complain that non-believers approach apologetic arguments
with an “anti-supernatural bias,” an unsavory obstacle which presumably clouds
the non-believer’s judgment with inherently anti-theistic leanings. According
to these apologists, it is because of this bias that arguments in defense of
Christianity are not given a fair hearing. This prejudice against “the
supernatural,” it is said, is very real and very widespread. As one believer
puts it,
There is also an unwarranted anti-supernatural bias
in academia and elsewhere which causes many to dismiss certain Christian
doctrines without a fair consideration. (Testimony of a YEC
Missionary)
If,
however, after giving Christian defenses the “fair consideration” that
apologists think they deserve, we conclude that they are unsound or
insufficient to their task, then it would be fair to
say that our rejection of those doctrines is not based on some
“unwarranted anti-supernatural bias.” Moreover, since many apologists cite
“anti-supernatural bias” as an impediment to accepting Christianity’s theistic
claims, they imply at the same time that an inclination to accept
supernaturalism as a legitimate source of explanation is at least in part a key
factor in endorsing those claims. Thus an examination of how believers
conceive, defend and claim to be able to know “the supernatural” is important
to fending off the often-repeated charge of an “unwarranted anti-supernatural
bias,” which is intended to brand the accused of some unjustifiable misconduct
in regard to the underlying context on which religious beliefs are held. If
this so-called “bias” against supernaturalism in fact turns out to be a rationally
warranted wariness of that which is contrary to objective reality, then
it seems that the apologist should have no more objection to such “bias” than
he might have against any rationally secured stance. After all, since
rationality is the commitment to reason as one’s only means of knowledge and
his only guide to action, a rational individual could easily be accused of
possessing an anti-irrational bias. And who would have a problem with an
anti-irrational bias, other than an irrationalist?
By
reviewing what Bahnsen says when he takes his opportunity to treat “the problem
of knowing the ‘super-natural’,” we can safely put to rest those complaints
raised by proponents of supernatural claims that insinuate unjust prejudice on
the part of non-believers. Among the many points which I hope to bring out in
my thoroughgoing analysis of Bahnsen’s presentation, I will show that he in
fact offers nothing to explain how one can “know” something that is
“supernatural” as he conceives of it, specifically that he fails to identify
any means by which one could have awareness of what he calls “the supernatural”
or provide any objective method by which one can safely and confidently
distinguish between what Bahnsen calls “the supernatural” and what he very well
may be imagining.
So long as any of these three issues are left outstanding and unattended,
especially when feigning to address the question of how one could “know the
supernatural,” the suspicion that our leg is being pulled is thereby fortified
all the more. Without knowing the means by which we can have awareness of what
Bahnsen calls “supernatural,” or the method by which “the supernatural” can be
identified and distinguished from imagination or mere error of cognition, we
have no business accepting claims about “the supernatural” and thus are
sufficiently warranted in rejecting such claims. We will see over and over
throughout my analysis that Bahnsen bombs out on each point, and in fact gives
us a few lessons along the way on what is dangerously wrong with supernaturalism.
Let
us give the floor to Bahnsen and consider his case as he assembles it.
Throughout my analysis I use his sub-chapter headings as section titles.
Chapter 31: The Problem of Knowing
the “Super-Natural”
Bahnsen
begins his case on p. 177, where he opens with the following statement:
The Christian faith as defined by Biblical revelation
teaches a number of things which are not restricted to the realm of man's
temporal experience - things about an invisible God, His triune nature, the
origin of the universe, the regularity of the created order, angels, miracles,
the afterlife, etc. These are precisely the sort of claims which unbelievers
most often find objectionable.
It
is true that Christianity “teaches a number of things” which are not confirmed
by methods independent of what Bahnsen calls “Biblical revelation.” That is,
they do not constitute knowledge which can be acquired and validated by a
process of cognition suited to the kind of consciousness which man possesses.
(I elaborate on this point in my blog The Axioms and
the Primacy of Existence.)
If
Christianity’s claims could be acquired and validated by a process suited to
the kind of consciousness which man possesses, it would not need to rest those
claims on an appeal to divine revelation in the first place. On the contrary,
the “knowledge” which Christianity claims on its own behalf is something that
is allegedly bestowed upon man, transmitted into his mind by a supernatural
agent, which seems to do away with the need for a theory of knowledge in the
first place. Herein lies the root of the contradiction
in Christianity’s claim to truth: we are to accept as knowledge something
that is beyond our ability to actually know. Perhaps this is why John
Frame, presumably speaking for all Christians, admits that “We know without
knowing how we know.” (Presuppositional
Apologetics: An Introduction (Part 1)) So
the question of how the believer could know what he claims to know, seems unanswerable on this basis. But while Bahnsen’s
concern is that “unbelievers... find objectionable” the kinds of claims that Christianity
makes, the inquiring reader may very well be more interested in learning why
one might accept those claims in the first place. That is, what do claims about
“the supernatural” have going for them? After all, a careful thinker
does not accept claims indiscriminately. On the contrary, he will weigh their
merits first, considering any substantiation given on their behalf, and
rejecting those which he deems unfit for consumption. Bahnsen might object that
we are already on the wrong track by presuming to have any cognitive ability in
the first place.
Bahnsen
continues:
The objection is that such claims are about transcendent matters - things which go
beyond day-to-day human experience. The triune Creator exists beyond the
temporal order; the afterlife is not part of our ordinary observations in this
world, etc. If the unbeliever is accustomed to thinking that people can only
know things based upon, and pertaining to, the "here-and-now," then
the Christian's claims about the transcendent are an intellectual reproach. (p.
177)
While
I cannot speak for all non-believers, I don’t think the primary objection
non-believers raise against Christianity and other religions is that their
“claims are about transcendent matters – things which go beyond day-to-day
human experience.” For instance, I do not need to directly experience something
in order to accept claims about it as truthful. I have never been to
Now
as an adult thinker, I have learned my way around the world in which I live
enough to be able to know when a claim is arbitrary, that is, when there
is no evidence to support it and no good reason to accept it as truth. For
instance, suppose my friend tells me that, while returning from
Which
brings us back to Bahnsen’s plight. He tells us that a “triune Creator exists
beyond the temporal order.” Well, why would anyone believe this? If we were
told that there is a band of gremlins convening on a planet revolving around
the planet Betelgeuse over the problem of universals, why would we accept it?
How would someone know this? How would a careful thinker know this? Bahnsen has
been hailed as a most careful thinker. On the rear jacket of Bahnsen’s book,
for instance, we find a quote by Douglas Wilson who writes “Greg Bahnsen’s mind
was nothing if not precise.” Another quote, by Stephen C. Perks, holds that
“Greg Bahnsen was a brilliant scholar.” Other writers have had similarly
glowing things to say about Bahnsen. With such praise, one would expect Bahnsen
to deliver a genuine tour de force when it comes to substantiating his
claims before an audience of careful thinkers, especially if he expected some
of them to be skeptical of his claims. Presumably it is in this chapter – “The
Problem of Knowing the ‘Super-Natural’,” where Bahnsen gives a “precise” and
“brilliant” explanation of how one can acquire knowledge of what
he calls “the Super-Natural.” If he is so concerned about non-Christians coming
into the knowledge that Christians claim to have, or at any rate about
providing believers with the means they need to defend Christianity’s claims,
then surely such an explanation would be in order.
For
reasons that remain unclear, Bahnsen seems to have a problem with basing
knowledge on “the ‘here-and-now’,” which I take to mean the realm of objects
which we directly perceive. But if anything, this is what we are aware of first:
we know that “the ‘here-and-now’” exists and is real, and it is in our very own
presence. What’s more is that it includes us and gives context to our present
knowledge. The “here and now” has the advantage of close proximity, while what
may be taking place on a planet revolving around Betelgeuse or “beyond the
temporal order” is not within the reach of our awareness. It is certainly not
within the reach of mine. But Bahnsen claimed to possess knowledge from “beyond
the temporal order,” and seemed quite irritated with those who were not willing
to accept his claim to such knowledge, calling them “dull, stubborn, boorish,
obstinate and stupid” (Always Ready, p. 56). Bahnsen must have been so
intelligent that he baffles those who do not confess belief in invisible magic
beings.
“The Reproach of the Transcendent”
Bahnsen
quickly shows his concern for how non-Christians react to Christianity’s
claims:
Those who are not Christians will often assume that the
natural world is all there is, in which case nobody can know things about the
"super-natural" (whatever surpasses the limits of nature). (p.
177)
Ever
one to constrain definitions of key terms to parenthetical asides, Bahnsen does
at least make it clear that by “super-natural” he means “whatever surpasses the
limits of nature.”
What
does it mean to “surpass the limits of nature”? Bahnsen, in all his renowned
precision and brilliance, does not bother to explain. In fact he doesn’t even
seem to recognize any need to explain further, even though the title of his
chapter implies that his task is to clarify how one can know “the
supernatural,” suggesting that he intends to divulge the workings of a process
by which one can acquire knowing awareness of “whatever surpasses the limits of
nature.” Wouldn’t an explanation of exactly what he means by “whatever
surpasses the limits of nature” be germane to such a task?
This
conception, whose subject is represented by the pronoun “whatever,” is probably
more open-ended than Bahnsen would have liked, but ultimately this cannot be
avoided when it comes to such matters as “the supernatural” and Christianity’s
claims. However “the supernatural” is to be defined, it needs to be wide enough
for Christianity to fit neatly within it. The expression “whatever surpasses
the limits of nature” fits the bill for Bahnsen, and can refer to just about
anything one can imagine. And as I have concluded elsewhere, a
believer’s imagination is crucial to the survival of his religious beliefs.
Bahnsen,
however, would probably object to interpretations of his conception of “the
supernatural” involving any use of the imagination. He was often serious about
the realm he called “supernatural” being real and not imaginary. “God’s plan
and purpose (and not our imaginations),” he tells us elsewhere, “determine
whatever comes to pass.” (Van Til’s Apologetic: Readings & Analysis,
p. 224) So then, at this point, we need to be able to distinguish between
“whatever we can imagine” and what Bahnsen means by “whatever surpasses the
limits of nature.” But since Bahnsen did not think to anticipate this problem,
we are left to our own. So we can turn to “the here and now,” even though
Bahnsen doesn’t seem to like it, and see what lessons we can pull from our
experience in the real world.
One
thing that reality teaches us whenever something “surpasses the limits of
nature,” is that death and destruction follow. One thing’s for sure: when death
and destruction strike in reality, it is not imaginary. Examples include, but
are not limited to: the RMS Titanic,
which sank, killing some 1500 or so passengers and crew, when its collision
with an iceberg in the North Atlantic in 1912 caused its hull to “surpass the
limits” of its integrity; the USS Arizona,
which sank, killing almost 1200 crewmembers on board at the time, when an
explosion caused by an attack by Japanese aircraft on Dec. 7, 1941 caused its
onboard structures to “surpass the limits” of their suitability to sustain
human life; the walkway
of the Kansas City Hyatt Regency which collapsed, killing 114 people and
injuring more than 200 others in July 1981, when the weight of spectators
gathered on the elevated walkway caused its structural design to “surpass the
limits” of its load-bearing capacity, etc. These are just a few examples that
come to mind when considering the expression “whatever surpasses the limits of
nature.” And of course, I do not doubt that these things happened. Indeed, I
would hope that later generations learn what dangers await when something
“surpasses the limits of nature.”
Christians
can be expected to retort to these examples by telling us that they do not
represent what is meant by the expression “whatever surpasses the limits of
nature.” If so, it is incumbent upon them to clarify what they mean by
“supernatural.” They do not want the expression to concede to what men imagine,
but they also do not want it to imply destruction to human life either. Most
likely, they need a better definition than what Bahnsen provided.
But
one thing that is clear, given Bahnsen’s stated conception of “the
supernatural,” is that it concedes the primacy of the natural over the
supernatural, at least conceptually. For it is against what we determine to be natural
(in “the ‘here-and-now’”) that Bahnsen wants to inform his conception of “the
supernatural.” That is, to “know the supernatural,” we must first know what is
natural, and “whatever surpasses the limits of” what we determine to be natural
(“the ‘here-and-now’” that is), is therefore to be categorized as
“supernatural.” But while on this analysis knowledge of the natural comes
logically prior to any alleged knowledge of “the supernatural” (for it is
defined in contrasting reference to the natural), Christians still want to
claim that “the supernatural” holds metaphysical and moral primacy over the natural.
After all, they want to claim that the natural was “created” by “the
supernatural.” Bahnsen himself seemed to recognize this to some degree when he
wrote:
In the process of knowing anything, man begins with
his own experience and questions – the “immediate” starting point. However,
that which man knows metaphysically begins with God (who preinterprets,
creates, and governs everything man could know), and God’s mind is
epistemologically the standard of truth – thus being the “ultimate” starting
point. (Van Til’s Apologetic: Readings & Analysis, p. 100n. 33).
So
for Bahnsen, the leap from the “immediate” experience known directly and
firsthand by an individual subject, to the “’ultimate’ starting point” of
Christian supernaturalism, is warranted. How exactly such a leap is justified,
remains unclear, and without any viable method of distinguishing between “the
supernatural” and the imaginary, it seems dubious at best. For we
have already seen that faith, which Bahnsen conceives as a belief,
“precedes knowledgeable understanding” (Always Ready, p. 88). So this
“’ultimate’ starting point” is affirmed on the basis of belief that is accepted
before it is understood.
Bahnsen
apparently understood that talk of “the supernatural” invites differing
opinions and contentions:
In philosophical circles, discussions and debates
about questions like these fall within the area of study known as
"meta-physics." As you might expect, this division of philosophical
investigation is usually a hotbed of controversy between conflicting schools of
thought. More recently, the entire enterprise of metaphysics has in itself
become a hotbed of controversy. (Always Ready, p. 177)
It
is true that, in at least some philosophical circles, thinkers advocate
for the plausibility of various “supernatural” explanations, and do so under
the guise of metaphysics. And naturally, one would expect a high degree of controversy
in such discussions, for anyone defending “the supernatural” will have nothing objective
to point to in defense of his pronouncements. Consequently when one supernaturalist encounters another supernaturalist,
neither will have any rational way of finally settling any conflict that may
arise between them. Because reason and objectivity have been abandoned,
controversy ensues without remedy. History has shown this to be the case
between religions as well as among various factions within a religion.
Bahnsen’s
error from this point forward, is that he frequently conflates “metaphysics”
with “supernaturalism” per se. Throughout the rest of this chapter, he will
often use the words “metaphysics” or “metaphysical” when in fact the context of
his point indicates that he really has some form of supernaturalism in mind.
Even Bahnsen’s own definitions do not support such a confusion, as we shall
see. Bahnsen makes use of this switch in order to grant his mystical views an
initial degree of unearned credibility within the discussion, thereby
excusing himself from the heavy lifting we would like to have seen. Therefore,
going forward, when quoting from Bahnsen’s chapter, any time he uses the word
“metaphysics” where actually he means some association with “the supernatural,”
I will point this out (such as with brackets).
Bahnsen
complains about the increase of negative reactions among academics and lay
thinkers alike, to claims involving “the supernatural”:
Over the last two centuries a mindset has developed
which is hostile toward any philosophical claim which is metaphysical [i.e., supernaturalistic] in character. It is clear to most
students that antipathy to the Christian faith has been the primary and
motivating factor in such attacks. Nevertheless, such criticism has been generalized into a pervasive antagonism
toward any claims which are similarly "metaphysical" [i.e., supernaturalistic]. This anti-metaphysical [i.e., anti-supernaturalistic] attitude has been one of the crucial
ingredients which have molded culture and history over the last two hundred
years. It has altered common views regarding man and ethics, it has generated a
radical reformulation of religious beliefs, and it has significantly affected
perspectives ranging from politics to pedagogy. Consequently a very large
number of the skeptical questions or challenges directed against the Christian
faith are either rooted in, or colored by, this negative spirit with respect to
metaphysics [i.e., supernaturalism]. (p. 178)
Bahnsen
complains that, essentially since the Age of Reason, men no longer readily lay
down their minds before the local mystic in the numbers that they used to, that
many people now offer up resistance where before they were suggestible and domitable. Non-believers are no longer burnt at the stake
for their non-belief, for instance, and this irks people like Bahnsen. In
fact, Bahnsen’s remarks read like a pining soliloquy to a more primitive past,
asking something along the lines of “What happened to the church, that it no
longer defines civilization in its own image any more? What happened to the
good old days of the Dark Ages, when everyone feared and believed and no
one dared to defy the man of the cloth? What happened to the inheritance I was
promised?”
By
complaining thusly, Bahnsen effectively diverts the attention of his reader
away from the task at hand, namely “the problem of knowing the
‘super-natural’,” which he never intended to settle anyway. This paragraph, the
fourth in the whole chapter, serves as a segue to focusing the reader’s
attention on the spoilsports: the non-believers, the atheists, the skeptics,
the people who look at Christianity’s and any other religion’s supernatural
claims and ask “How could anyone believe such garbage?” Instead of identifying
any means by which one could acquire awareness of what he calls “the
supernatural,” Bahnsen wants to discredit what he will call “anti-metaphysical
arguments,” meaning anti-supernatural arguments, well before they’ve been
heard. Isn’t this essentially what theists are objecting to when they accuse
non-believers of “anti-supernatural bias”? Throughout his discussion, Bahnsen
assumes the reality of what he calls “the supernatural” and the truth of the
Christian bible, indicating that he never intended to provide any instruction
whatsoever on how one can know either in the first place. This is the
mentality of a Dark Ages priest: “How dare ye argue against my magic kingdom!
Of course it exists! You’re not supposed to argue against its reality, you’re
supposed to believe in fear and trembling on my say so!” Only in this unspoken
context does Bahnsen’s essay make any sense.
“Defining the Metaphysical”
Bahnsen
opens this section of his chapter on “The Problem of Knowing the
‘Super-Natural’” by stating:
Before we can elaborate on the anti-metaphysical
[i.e., anti-supernaturalistic] arguments which are
commonly heard today, it would help to understand better what is meant by
"metaphysics." (p. 178)
Is
it not premature at this point to focus on anti-supernaturalistic
arguments “which are commonly heard today,” before we examine any pro-supernaturalistic arguments, or before Bahnsen even
proposes how one can have awareness and confirm the existence of what he
calls “the supernatural”? After all, isn’t that what the title of this chapter
of Bahnsen’s book leads one to expect to find in it? Had he titled his chapter
“Common Arguments Against Supernaturalism,” or something along those lines,
then we would rightly expect to find Bahnsen focus on reviewing anti-supernaturalistic arguments from the get go. But this is
not the case. Moreover, if Bahnsen acknowledges that “knowing the
‘super-natural’” is in fact problematic, as the title he did choose for his
chapter suggests, why doesn’t he discuss the means and methods by which one can
know “the supernatural” before turning the spotlight on arguments against “the
supernatural”? Wouldn’t Bahnsen’s readers benefit more from his “precision” and
“brilliance” if he illuminated a credible context substantiating belief in “the
supernatural” before elaborating on common arguments against “the
supernatural”? After all, if Bahnsen is confident in his position, why does he
worry so much about what the naysayers might be
thinking in the first place?
Bahnsen
continues:
This is a technical word that is rarely used outside
of academic circles; it will not even be part of the vocabulary of most
Christians. Nevertheless, the conception of metaphysics and the reaction to it
which can be found in academic circles will definitely touch and have an impact
on the life of the believer - either in terms of the popular attacks on the
faith which he or she must answer, or even in terms of the way in which the
Christian religion is portrayed and presented in the pulpit. (p. 178)
Bahnsen’s
followers often point out that Always Ready was written with the
unsophisticated lay-believer in mind. Given the condescending attitude of many
presuppositionalists, one might get the impression that admitting that there
are unsophisticated believers walking around would be anathema to the
presuppositionalist program. Inherent in the presuppositional apologetic
program is the insistence that non-believers “account for” how they “make
sense” of their experience as human beings in the world, as if believing in
Christianity’s stories somehow enlightened an individual with their
“Spirit-renewed minds” such that questions like this would be easy to address.
Nonetheless, it is good that Bahnsen acknowledges, at least performatively
through the content of his book, that many believers are not very familiar with
philosophy, and thus need philosophical terms explained to them. One would hope
that such believers reading Bahnsen’s book may become more interested in
philosophy, and begin asking a few critical questions as they go through
Bahnsen’s celebrated primer.
Bahnsen
explains what metaphysics studies as follows:
It is often said that metaphysics is the study of
"being." It might be more illuminating if we wrote that metaphysics
studies "being" - that is, questions about existence ("to be, or
not to be"). Metaphysics asks, what is
it to exist? And, what sorts
of things do exist? Thus the metaphysician is interested to know about
fundamental distinctions (i.e.,
the basic classes of things that exist) and important similarities (i.e., the essential nature
of the members of these classes). (p. 178)
So,
“metaphysics is the study of ‘being’,” the branch of philosophy which “studies
‘being’- that is, questions about existence...” It should be clear, however,
that rejection of supernaturalism in no way entails a rejection of “the study
of ‘being’” or a branch of philosophy which “studies ‘being’ – that is,
questions about existence...” It should not be difficult to see that one can
reject supernaturalism and yet still pursue a study of existence, for there is
no conflict in accepting the fact that existence exists and yet rejecting the
notion of “the supernatural.”
Compare
Peikoff’s conception of metaphysics: “Metaphysics is
the branch of philosophy that studies the nature of the universe as a whole.”
(OPAR, p 3) According to Peikoff’s worldview,
Objectivism, ‘universe’ is defined as “the sum total of existence,” such that
‘universe’ is a concept which includes anything and everything that exists.
(See my blogs Responding
to Chris and Exapologist’s Message to Non-Theists for some
elaboration on this.)
I
point this out here because Bahnsen will soon use the phrase
“anti-metaphysical” when he really means “anti-supernatural.” He will refer to
thinkers who reject “the supernatural”; I, for instance, am such a thinker.
However, my worldview has a branch of philosophy called “metaphysics,” so it
should be clear that I am in no way “anti-metaphysical.” But I do reject the
notion of “the supernatural” (for reasons that should be crystal clear by the
end of my review of Bahnsen’s essay), so one could refer to my position as
“anti-supernatural.” My position is anti-supernatural just as and for the
same reasons that it is anti-irrational.
Bahnsen
elaborates a little further:
He seeks the ultimate
causes or explanations for the existence and nature of things. He
wants to understand the limits of possible reality, the modes of existing, and
the interrelations of existing things. (p. 178)
I
am always curious to know better what Christians mean by “cause” and
“causality” when they make use of such words in propounding their worldview’s
metaphysical position. (I have written on this before: see my blog Presuppositionalism
vs. Causality.) Many Christians (in fact, all that I have discussed this
with) speak of the universe having some prior cause. This tells me either that
their conception of the universe is radically different from mine or that their
conception of causality is. It is likely that both are radically different from
mine, which is why I wonder what they mean when they use these terms.
Christians make use of the same words, but it’s a different language with its
own private meanings. I am all for eliminating such barriers to understanding,
which is why I am happy to supply definitions of my terms. Above I mentioned
that by ‘universe’ my worldview means the sum totality of existence. By
‘causality’ I essentially mean the identity of action, for causality is
the application of the law of identity to action. Causality is the recognition
that the relationship between an entity and its actions is a necessary
relationship. On this view, existence is a precondition of causality, for
action requires an entity (which exists) to do the action so identified. As one
Objectivist philosopher points out, “you can’t have a dance without the
dancer.” (Kelley, Induction) So if causality presupposes existence (which it
obviously does), and the universe includes by definition everything that
exists, then talk of causality could only make sense within the context of the
universe, not outside it. To speak of causality outside or “prior to” the
universe, would be like talking about a dance taking place without any dancers.
If someone pointed to an empty stage with no one on it and asked “Do you like
the dance?” we would rightly ask “What dance?” The same is the case with many
things I have heard Christians argue in their apologetic defenses of their
god-belief.
But
none of these points seems to be of any concern for Bahnsen, for he does not
stop to illuminate them. He is concerned here only with giving a broad
definition of the study of metaphysics, and surreptitiously smuggling his
supernatural premises in through the back door. Things like the relationship
between causes and existence might be expected to come later, but sadly they
don’t.
Then
he writes:
It should be obvious, then, if only in an elementary
way, that Christianity propounds a number of definite metaphysical claims. (p.
178)
Yes,
Christianity does advance quite a number of claims, and those claims do have
their share of metaphysical commitments, commitments which most Christians
themselves do not fully understand, or perhaps do not even want to understand,
as the case may be with religious belief. And while Bahnsen is aware that
“Christianity propounds a number of definite metaphysical claims,” he nowhere
discusses the issue of metaphysical primacy, i.e., the proper orientation in
the subject-object relationship. I have discussed this matter at length
elsewhere (see here,
here,
here,
here,
here,
here, here and here, for instance),
so I will try not repeat myself at length in the present review. But above,
Bahnsen pointed out that “the metaphysician is interested to know about
fundamental distinctions,” and yet what distinction is more fundamental
and more important to a discussion of knowledge than the distinction between an
object and the cognitive means by which one acquires awareness of it? This is
the distinction between the knower and what he knows, between the objects he
perceives and the faculty by which he perceives it. The relationship between the
subject of experience and the objects one experiences is ever-present in one’s
waking life. So long as you are conscious, you are conscious of something, and
so long as you are conscious of something, there is a relationship between your
consciousness and the something you are conscious of. It is inescapable. And
any discussion of knowledge, of philosophy, of its major branches, of its
purpose, etc., involves this relationship, even if only implicitly, for
knowledge and philosophy involve consciousness.
But
nowhere in his discussion of metaphysics or “the supernatural” does Bahnsen
even seem aware of the importance of this crucial distinction, let alone let
alone show any concern for it. Most people acknowledge that there is a
distinction between reality and imagination, between what is actual and what is
fictitious. Even many Christians acknowledge that something is not true because
one wishes it to be true. The root of such recognitions is the relationship
between the subject of consciousness and the object of consciousness. The
fundamental question in metaphysics, then, is: do the objects of consciousness
exist independent of consciousness, or do they depend on consciousness? Is
reality merely an invention of the (or some) mind? Or, does it exist independent
of any minds? Do the objects of consciousness conform to the dictates of
consciousness, or are they what they are regardless of the content of
consciousness? Does the subject of consciousness hold metaphysical primacy over
its objects (subjectivism)? Or, do the objects of consciousness hold
metaphysical primacy over the subject (objectivism)? These are fundamental
questions which are of central importance to a rational approach to
metaphysics, and yet we shall not find Bahnsen discussing them anywhere in his
defense of supernaturalism. Needless to say, this would concern me if I were a
Christian looking to Bahnsen for apologetic guidance.
“Fundamental Distinctions”
In
the following paragraph, Bahnsen identifies the fundamental tokens of Christianity’s
metaphysical commitments:
The Scripture teaches us that "there is one God,
the Father, by whom are all things...and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom
are all things" (I Cor. 8:6). All things, of all
sorts, were created by Him (John 1:3; Col. 1:16). But He is before all things,
and by means of Him all things hold together or cohere (John 1:1; Col. 1:17).
He carries along or upholds all things by the word of His power (Heb. 1:3).
Therefore, to exist is to be divine or created. In God we live and move and
have our being (Act 17:28). He, however, has life in Himself (John 5:26; Ex.
3:14). The living and true God gives the distinguishable unity or common
natures to things (Gen. 2:19), categorizing things by placing His
interpretation on them (e.g., Gen. 1:5, 8 10, 17; 2:9). It is He who also makes
things to differ from each other (I Cor. 4:7; Ex.
11:7; Rom. 9:21; I Cor. 12:4-6; 15:38-41). Similarity
and distinction, then, result from His creative and providential work. Both the
existence and nature of things find their explanation in Him - whether casual
(Eph. 1:11) or teleological (Eph. 1:11). (p. 179)
Consider
what Bahnsen affirms here in light of the questions I posed above. Does the
view that Bahnsen outlines here entail subjectivism, or does it entail
objectivism? If you answered subjectivism, you’d be correct. As is always the
case with subjectivism, reality is split into two mutually exclusive
categories. As Bahnsen puts it, “to exist is to be divine or created.” There is
the supernatural realm of the divine creator, and under its control is the
created natural realm. The divine creator creates and controls the natural
realm “by the word of His power,” that is, by means of its conscious will. The
things that exist in the natural realm are assigned their identity by the wishing
of the Christian god.
The
creator “categorize[es] things by placing His
interpretation on them.” In other words, the identity of the things that exist
in the natural realm derive from the content of the divine creator’s
consciousness, which means its consciousness holds metaphysical primacy over
those things which exist in the natural realm. There is in what Bahnsen
describes no instance of an object of cognition holding metaphysical primacy
over the subject of cognition when the consciousness of the divine creator is
concerned. The starting point is an omnipotent consciousness, the divine
creator, and the natural realm is an object it creates by a sheer act of will.
The divine creator wishes, and POOF! – whatever it wishes becomes reality.
“Creation, on Christian principles, must always mean fiat creation.”
(Van Til, The Defense of the Faith, p. 26, italics added) You couldn’t
get more subjective than this if you wanted to. It should not surprise us,
then, when believers in this stuff turn around and launch arguments purporting
to conclude that the intelligibility of man’s experience depends on the reality
of this same divine creator which voluntarily incarnated itself in human flesh,
becoming
“fully God fully man,” and allowed itself to be executed for a creation
gone totally wrong.
The
idea that “the existence and nature of things find their explanation in [the
Christian god]” is the purported capital that the presuppositionalist apologist
is hoping to cash in when he challenges non-believers to “account for” some
aspect of experience or cognition, such as the assumption that nature is
uniform, inductive generalization, laws of logic, science, morality, etc. The
apologist poses as having a “ready explanation” at hand, a woolen blanket that
covers his own eyes and which he hopes to pull over everyone else’s. It’s the
old “God did it!” formula that seems to have a validity all its own once we
grant its fundamental premise, namely the primacy of consciousness metaphysics.
Once we grant that the universe and all its contents, events, possibilities and
relationships were created by and continue to conform to a conscious will, then
all that is needed at that point is a name for that conscious will to give it
some semblance of identity in the imagination
of the believer. For the Christian, Yahweh (or Elohim,
or Jehovah, or Jesus) “accounts for” all these things; for the Muslim, Allah
“accounts for” all these things; for the Lahu
tribesmen, Geusha “accounts for” all these things,
etc. It’s nothing more than the wave-of-the-wand metaphysics that informs the
myths of old and the storybooks of today’s popular literature. Each shares the
same fundamental common denominator: the primacy of the subject over the object
at the most crucial point.
But
Bahnsen isn’t finished yet. He continues, stating:
God is the source of all possibility (Isa. 43:10; 44:6; 65:11) and thus sets the limits of
possible reality by His own will and decree. (p. 179)
What
Bahnsen describes in this unargued assertion is
nothing short of the cartoon universe premise of theism. All facts, objects and
events found in the universe conform to the ruling consciousness’ wishes and
decrees. Its wishes and decrees not only determine what is actual and what
actually happens, but also what is possible to begin with. The entities,
persons and happenings of the universe are analogous to features in a cartoon, while all of history itself is
analogous to the cartoon itself and the Christian god is analogous to a master
cartoonist who has created a cartoon that begins with the creation of the earth
and ends with its destruction. In terms of fundamentals, this view of reality
grants metaphysical primacy to a form of consciousness: it is the view that the
subject of awareness holds primacy over the objects of awareness.
This view is known as metaphysical subjectivism. It characterizes Christianity
from its foundations to its outermost dogmas.
“A Comprehensive Metaphysic”
Bahnsen
further explains the task of the philosophical branch of metaphysics:
"Metaphysics" can also be seen as an
attempt to express the entire scheme
of reality - of all existing things. The metaphysician must resolve conflicting
accounts about the true nature of the world (over against mere appearances),
and he does so in terms of an ultimate conceptual framework. Metaphysics tries
to make sense of the world as a whole
by articulating and applying a set of central, regulating, organizing,
distinctive paradigms. These principles govern or guide the way in which a
person interrelates and interprets the different parts of his life and
experience. Everyone uses some such system of ultimate generalities about
reality, evaluative criteria, and structuring relationships. We could not think
or make sense of anything without some coherent view of the general nature and
structure of reality. (p. 179)
Given
these points that Bahnsen himself lists as those items which the branch of
metaphysics should cover, it is tellingly curious that he does not even mention
the subject-object relationship. Does reality exist independent of
consciousness, or is it a creation of consciousness? Does consciousness
perceive objects which exist independent of itself, or does consciousness
create its own objects? Given what Bahnsen states here, you wouldn’t know what
his answer to such questions might be. Since Bahnsen charges into philosophy
with no clear understanding of the relationship between consciousness and its
objects, it is no wonder that he nowhere provides any clue on how his readers
might be able to distinguish between what he calls “supernatural” and what is
imaginary. Wouldn’t such questions be topical to “an attempt to express the entire
scheme of reality”? And if it is the metaphysician’s task to “resolve
conflicting accounts about the true nature of the world,” how could he do this
if he has no objective method by which to distinguish between fact and fiction,
the real and the imaginary, the true and the untrue?
Bahnsen makes passing mention of “an ultimate conceptual framework.” But if it
is the case, as Bahnsen will soon claim, that “[a]n individual's limited
personal experience cannot warrant a comprehensive framework encompassing every
sort of existent there may be” (p. 181), then upon what is this “ultimate
conceptual framework” supposed to be based? Is it supposed to be based upon
something outside his experience, something to which he has no
epistemological access, or that contradicts
one’s own personal experience, regardless of how limited or broad it may be?
What Bahnsen’s theology fails to provide is precisely what an “ultimate
conceptual framework” needs a working knowledge of, namely: a theory of
concepts. We will see that, if concepts are to relate to the reality in
which we live, they need to be formed on the basis of what we perceive in the
world. Otherwise, they do not integrate things that exist in this world, but
are informed instead by otherworldly content (such as what an individual might imagine),
and such is of no use to man.
As
for “mak[ing] sense of the
world as a whole,” we do need a set of general principles which guide
our thinking and allow us to discriminate between the real and the imaginary.
By ‘principle’ I have in mind a general truth upon which other truths logically
depend. But specifically what are these principles, how do we acquire them, how
do we know they are true, and upon what are they based? For the Objectivist,
those principles are informed by the axioms (existence, identity and
consciousness) and the primacy of existence (the objects of consciousness exist
independent of consciousness). These principles are atheistic because they
expose the falsehood of god-belief. (See for
instance my essay The
Axioms and the Primacy of Existence.)
Bahnsen
holds that Christians “must argue with those oppose the truth of God’s word”
(Always Ready, p. 129), and tells the believer that he “must respond to
the onslaught of the unbeliever by attacking the unbeliever’s position at its
foundations.” (Ibid., p. 55) Bahnsen wants his believing readers to attack the
principles upon which my worldview stands. But what exactly is wrong with those
principles? Does he think they are wrong? On the contrary, to say they are
wrong, he would have to assume them. So what principles does Bahnsen propose as
suitable alternatives for serving as the basis of “an ultimate conceptual
framework”?
The
relevance and importance of my questions are underscored by what Bahnsen
himself states:
Instead of dealing with simply one distinguishable
department of study or one limited area of human experience (e.g., biology,
history, astronomy), metaphysics is comprehensive
- concerned with, and relevant to, the wwhhole world. For this reason one's
metaphysical views will affect every other inquiry in which he engages,
illumine a wide range of subjects, and form the "first principles"
for other intellectual disciplines. (pp. 179-180)
Bahnsen
acknowledges that the truths established in the metaphysical branch of
philosophy are “concerned with, and relevant to, the whole world.” They are not
truths like “water boils at 212 degrees Fahrenheit,” or “Cornelius Van Til was
born in the
Now
consider, if one adopts as his metaphysical principles ideas which contradict
the axioms of Objectivism. Suppose one takes Bahnsen’s exhortations to reject
this non-believer’s foundations seriously. He would have to argue on a basis
which opposes the axioms. Accordingly, he would have to argue on the assumption
that there is no existence, that there is no identity, that there
is no consciousness. Further, he would have to assume that whatever exists
(which he has already denied) must conform to consciousness. So in order to
oppose Objectivism he would have to oppose himself. So again, it would be
curious to know what Bahnsen proposes as alternatives to this non-believer’s
foundations.
“The Christian Metaphysic”
Bahnsen
describes the globally encompassing nature of Christianity’s metaphysic:
The Christian faith comprises a metaphysical system
on this account also. Scripture teaches that all things are of God, through
God, and unto God (Rom. 11:36). We must think His thoughts after Him (Prov. 22:17-21; John 8:31-32). In this way we can
understand and interpret the world as a whole. The Word of God gives us light
(Ps. 119:130), and Christ Himself is the life-giving light of men (John 1:4),
in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge (Col. 2:3). Hence we
can discern the true nature of reality in terms of Christ's word: in Thy light we see light (Ps. 36:9). (p.
180)
Below
we will see Bahnsen try to disqualify one’s own “limited personal experience”
as the means by which a comprehensive metaphysical framework could be
developed. And when I read statements like the above, it is clear to me that
Bahnsen has adopted a metaphysic which has nothing at all to do with one’s
firsthand experiences, save for his emotions. And the only way that the above
could relate to one’s own experiences is through his imagination. One can
certainly imagine that there is a god, that it created everything, that “all
things are of God, through God, and unto God” (including all the evil and
suffering in the world), that this god “is the life-giving light of men”
and that “all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge” are “hid” in this god
somehow. But imagination is not the basis of an objective metaphysic, and to
suggest that its inventions can substitute as a metaphysic is pretense.
Bahnsen
speaks of Christ as a “life-giving light,” a metaphor which allegorically plays
to the senses (specifically vision). This “light” is presumably not the same
thing that we find in nature, such as from the sun or fire, or from artificial
sources, such as incandescent light bulbs. The “life-giving light of men” could
not be either natural or artificial, for this would undercut the appeal to
supernaturalism. But how are we to make sense of such notions when they
are couched in terms which only make sense on the basis of sense experience,
and yet are supposed to refer to things that are inaccessible to the senses, if
not by retreating to the imaginary? Nevertheless, even though he still has
not shown how one can have awareness of “the supernatural” or distinguish what
he calls “the supernatural” from mere imagination, or how one
can "know" what he calls "the supernatural" by means
other than imagination, Bahnsen makes it clear that “the supernatural” is of
central importance to his worldview’s metaphysical thesis. The natural, on his
view, depends on the supernatural. The supernatural created and governs over
the natural. This again suggests the involvement of one’s imagination. One can
look at anything in nature and imagine a supernatural force behind it propping
it up, “explaining” it in some way, “accounting for” it, etc. What metaphysical
view requires that the natural be explained by an appeal to the supernatural,
if not one which grants metaphysical primacy to consciousness? Indeed, does
Bahnsen anywhere show how his views can be reconciled to the metaphysical
primacy of existence? Not at all.
Bahnsen
thinks the key to understanding and interpreting the world as a whole is not
found in conceptualizing that material provided by perception (i.e., the
process of reason), but by thinking the thoughts of the Christian god
after it. Again, if what one imagines is one’s standard, what would keep one
from supposing that any thoughts he thinks are the thoughts of an infallible
invisible magic being? And if one supposes that one’s own thoughts are the
thoughts of an infallible being, then he is naturally conferring infallibility
to his own thoughts. This of course could be tested. It would not be very
convincing to claim that one’s thoughts are thoughts one thinks after his
infallible god, only to have those thoughts turn out to be just as fallible as
anyone else’s thoughts. Someone claiming to think his god thoughts after it can
easily be interrogated to see just how well his thinking holds up. A proper
test would not include questions whose answers could easily be sought
beforehand, such as “In what year was construction on the
Though
the presuppositionalist may be confessionally
motivated not to admit it, the fact is that the believer is stuck with
non-believers on this point. We think our own thoughts, and pretending
otherwise does not produce a method by which “we can understand and interpret
the world as a whole.” Such pretense is an attempt to fake reality, and no
value can come from it. An attempt to fake reality surrenders thought to the
arbitrary, such that no legitimate thinking can be claimed at that point. It
constitutes an evasion in the guise of a “pious truth.”
Bahnsen
further elaborates the "Christian metaphysic":
The Bible sets forth a definite metaphysical scheme.
It begins with God who is a personal, infinitely perfect, pure spirit (Ex.
15:11; Mal. 2:10; John 4:24). The triune God (2 Cor.
13:14) is unique in His nature and works (Ps. 86:9), self-existent (Ex. 3:14;
John 5:26; Gal. 4:8-9), eternal (Ps. 90:2), immutable (Mal. 3:6), and
omnipresent (Ps. 139:7-10). Everything else that exists has been created out of
nothing (Col. 1:16-17; Heb. 11:3), whether the material world (Gen. 1:1; Ex.
20:11), the realm of spirits (Ps. 148:2, 5), or man. (p. 180)
One
can easily claim that “the Bible sets forth a definite metaphysical scheme,”
but one could just as easily make the same claim in regard to the tales of Tolkien, Baum, Lucas, Rowling, and other story-writers. It
could also be said about the sacred texts of non-Christian religions. The bible
has a god which “is a personal, infinitely perfect, pure spirit,” while the
worlds of Rowling, Tolkien and Baum are populated by
warlocks and witches, and the outcomes in the ancient and distant galaxies of Star
Wars are determined by an everpresent, omniscient
and omnipotent cosmic power called “the Force.” Modern mysticism shares the
same fundamentals with the mysticism of the ancients. Boiled down to their
implications for the subject-object relationship, storylines like those found
in the bible are essentially no different from those by modern fantasy writers
in that their mystical dabbling is inspired by the primacy of consciousness
metaphysics. The common denominator joining each into one is the directive and
regulating role of the imagination.
At
root, Bahnsen’s metaphysic thus shares with other versions of fantasy the same
orientation between subject and object, both in content and in method. The
content of such stories grants, to one degree or another, metaphysical primacy
to a conscious power, and the method involved in informing such stories is
governed by the imagination (cf. “whatever surpasses the limits of nature”).
Bahnsen
outlines the Christian metaphysic as it pertains to man as follows:
Man was created as the image of God (Gen. 1:27), a
being who exhibits both a material and immaterial character (Matt. 10:28),
surviving bodily death (Eccl. 12:7;
Here
Bahnsen affirms the standard biblical view that “man was created in the image
of God,” and yet this is a most puzzling doctrinal affirmation given what we
know of man and what Christianity claims about its god. Man, for instance, is
physical, biological, mortal, corruptible, destructible, imperfect, neither
omniscient nor infallible, given to his passions, prone to making mistakes and
capable of moral improprieties. On the other hand, however, the Christian god
is said to be non-physical, non-biological, immortal, incorruptible,
indestructible, perfect, omniscient, infallible, imperturbable, unerring and
incapable of moral improprieties. Man faces a fundamental alternative, namely
life versus death, and has needs that he must meet in order to continue
existing, while the Christian god does not face any such fundamental
alternative (it is supposed to be immortal, eternal and indestructible). In the
language of analytic philosophy, the Christian god is said to be “necessary,”
while man is supposed to be “contingent.” And while we are supposed to accept
the claim that the Christian god is a perfect creator, it is hard to see how
one could sustain this view given the imperfections, not only in men, but also
in the world, which is constantly undergoing change. Wouldn’t the product of a
creator that is perfect also be perfect? So in what way is man “created as the
image of God”? It could not be man’s rational nature, for rationality assumes
non-omniscience. Rationality is the commitment to reason as one’s only means of
knowledge and his only guide to action. An omniscient and infallible mind would
have no need for any means of knowledge, for it would already possess all
knowledge infallibly. So a means of knowledge could only imply a starting point
of non-omniscience and an ability to error, and the Christian god is said not
to have either of these conditions. Also, rationality is a conceptual faculty,
and as
I have already shown, an omniscient mind would not possess its knowledge in
the form of concepts.
Bahnsen
says that man is “a being who exhibits both a material and immaterial
character.” But what exactly could this mean? How does man “exhibit” a
character in this sense? Objectivism views man as an integrated being of
both matter and consciousness. The axiom of consciousness is
affirmed by Objectivism at its foundations. But above we saw Bahnsen affirm
that the believer “must respond to the onslaught of the unbeliever by attacking
the unbeliever’s position at its foundations.” This could only mean that as a
Christian he must find the axiom of consciousness objectionable for some reason
– namely because a non-believer has affirmed it. So he is committed to
rejecting it, even though such rejection involves an act of consciousness.
Frequently apologists seem to have some aspect of consciousness in mind
whenever they speak of things “immaterial,” such as “spirits.” But if
consciousness is rejected as a matter of apologetic principle, then it would be
inconsistent to turn around and affirm consciousness in Christianity’s doctrines.
Bahnsen needs to make up his mind, and live with the results.
Also,
Bahnsen mentions a “personal awareness of God,” presumably something the
believer is supposed to have. In mentioning it, Bahnsen acknowledges that it is
an issue, that awareness of the supernatural deity central to Christianity is
something the believer allegedly possesses. But Bahnsen nowhere identifies the means
by which the believer is supposed to have such awareness. To be aware of the
Christian god, for instance, does the believer look outward, or does he
look inward? What options are available, besides the senses, if this
awareness is supposedly had by looking outward? Bahnsen does not say. If
the believer acquires awareness of the Christian god by looking inward,
then the question of how one distinguishes between what one calls the Christian
god and what he may merely be imagining becomes a central concern.
Bahnsen
also makes mention of the notion of an afterlife as part and parcel of his
worldview’s metaphysical view of man. Here, as with many other doctrinal
affirmations, Bahnsen radically departs from science and affirms Christianity’s
view of man on what could only be a storybook basis. Of course, anyone can imagine
that man has a soul which survives his “bodily death” and floats like a vapor
up to a magic kingdom somewhere beyond the cosmos. But again, imagination is
not reality. I have pointed out before that the cross is a most fitting symbol
of death, which makes it the ideal symbol for the Christian worldview. The Christian
view of man was eloquently summarized by Ayn Rand as
follows:
They have taught man that he is a hopeless misfit
made of two elements, both symbols of death. A body without a soul is a corpse,
a soul without a body is a ghost – yet such is their image of man’s nature: the
battleground of a struggle between the corpse and a ghost, a corpse endowed
with some evil volition of its own and a ghost endowed with the knowledge that
everything known to man is non-existent, that only the unknowable exists. (For
the New Intellectual, p. 138)
Rather
than viewing man as an integrated being, religion wants to disintegrate
man by tearing him asunder. His “flesh” is that necessary evil that the
Christian god, in its self-immolating mercy (which we are supposed to believe
temporarily squelched its jealousy and wrath), took on as it allowed itself to
be gestated, birthed, raised, spat upon, praised, worshipped, flogged,
crucified and resurrected. In reptilian manner the flesh was shed and the soul
was set free from its constraints. The grave now held a promise not achievable
while still residing in flesh, and morticians could finally serve as
gatekeepers to a further installment of the Christian fantasy: eternity in an
imaginary realm populated by imaginary beings, where “the chosen” live happily
ever after.
Bahnsen
goes on with his description of the Christian metaphysic:
In creation God made all things according to His
unsearchable wisdom (Ps. 104:24; Isa. 40:28),
assigning all things their definite characters (Isa.
40:26; 46:9-10). God also determines all things by His wisdom (Eph. 1:11) -
preserving (Neh. 9:6), governing (Ps. 103:19), and
predetermining the nature and course of all things, thus being able to work
miracles (Ps. 72:18). The decree by which God providentially ordains historical
events is eternal, effectual, unconditional, unchangeable, and comprehensive
(e.g., Isa. 46:10; Acts 2:23; Eph. 3:9-11). (p. 180)
This
statement resoundingly confirms the Objectivist analysis of religious thought,
specifically the conclusion that the religious view of the world reduces to the
primacy of consciousness metaphysics (i.e., subjectivism). Notice how
consistently the primacy of consciousness is assumed in the points which
Bahnsen emphasizes:
- "God made all things according too His unsearchable wisdom" - this
puts "wisdom," which is a faculty of consciousness, prior to the
"things" which were "created," and that includes "all
things." On this view it is clear: existence is a result of prior
conscious activity.
- "assigning all things their definite
character" - this again puts conscious activity prior to the nature of any
thing which could serve as a distinct object of that consciousness. On this
view it is clear: identity is the result of prior conscious activity.
- "God also determines all things by His
wisdom..., preserving..., governing..., and predetermining the nature and
course of all things" - this means that whatever happens conforms to the
intentions of a consciousness. On this view it is clear: whatever happens in
the world is the result of prior conscious activity.
- "thus being able to work miracles" - this
means that the ruling consciousness can revise the identity of any object at
will. On this view it is clear: the universe is analogous to one very long and
involved cartoon, where the cartoonist makes whatever it wants appear and be
whatever it wants.
Bahnsen
says that “the decree by which God providentially ordains historical events is
eternal, effectual, unconditional, unchangeable and comprehensive.” Because it
is “eternal” and “unchangeable,” it sounds like even god cannot change it,
which seems to render it quite powerless before its own decrees. This would
render its omnipotence utterly useless, for its unchangeable decree would lock
it into whatever course has been decreed, resulting in an unending circle. So
not only is the primacy of consciousness consistently affirmed in the Christian
religion, the power which Christians attribute to their god is self-defeating
anyway.
Apparently
not concerned with these problems, Bahnsen goes on to say:
These truths are paradigmatic for the believer; they
are ultimate principles of objective reality, to be distinguished from the
delusions set forth in contrary views of the world. What the unbelieving world
sees as wisdom is actually foolish (I Cor. 1:18-25).
(p. 180)
It
is through statements like these, which are thrown out in a “defend at all
cost” manner, which amusingly paint the apologist into a most uncomfortable
corner. It does so by conceding to his opponents precisely what the apologist
wants to deny them. Now he is committed to calling whatever the non-believer
may affirm “delusional,” by virtue of the fact that they are “set forth in
contrary views of the world.” No matter what the non-believer affirms – even if
they are undeniable truths – Bahnsen has already classed it as “actually
foolish.” For instance, I see truth, knowledge, reason, values, rational
self-interest, and individual rights as points of wisdom. So given what Bahnsen
is telling us here, he thinks each of these things are “delusions” and
"actually foolish."
In spite of this self-defeating approach, Bahnsen insists that everyone else is
wrong:
Since the minds of the unbelieving are blinded (2 Cor. 4:4), they err according to the faith described above,
thus having only a "knowledge falsely so-called" (I Tim. 6:20-21).
(pp. 180-181)
Sensing
that he has no rational defense for his position - and yet unwilling to admit
it, Bahnsen opts for an easy copout: everyone who doesn't agree with
his position is "blinded." Accordingly, he's right, and anyone
who does not believe what he claims, is cognitively
defective. That takes care of that, right? Perhaps it helps to chase
away doubts in the minds of those who are simply determined to affirm
their religious programming at all costs, but only momentarily.
Unfortunately for the apologist who takes this route, the doubts will of course
continue to linger, and for good reason. It's certainly not an intellectual
approach to these matters. (It calls to mind the image of a stubborn pre-teen
who plugs up his ears and shuts his eyes tight while screaming "I'm right!
You're wrong! I'm right! You're wrong!" over and over again to silence any
unwanted input.)
Meanwhile, it is not likely that non-believers in general are going to be very
moved by Bahnsen's charge of error when it comes to getting his faith-based
confessions right; after all, they're non-believers, and they would be wise to consider
the source. But again, Bahnsen commits himself to calling
whatever a non-believer professes to know "false," even
before he knows what it might be.
It's hard to see how this could be considered at all
responsible. For instance, I know that there is a reality. According
to what Bahnsen affirms here, this is "knowledge falsely
so-called," simply because I, a non-believer, am affirming it. Let Bahnsen
have it his way. But that would amount to saying there is no reality. Why
should we believe this? Because Bahnsen has no actual defense for his
belief in “the supernatural” (he doesn’t even address the most basic questions
when he sets out to pontificate on “The Problem of the ‘Super-Natural’”), he
has little option but to take the low road.
Not
that it can do his position any good, Bahnsen gives an example of what he
means:
For instance, resting in the appearance of total
regularity, an unbelieving metaphysic does not teach that Christ will come
again to intervene in the cosmic process to judge men and determine their
eternal destinies (cf. 2 Peter 3:3-7). (p. 181)
The
non-believer who does not believe that "Christ will come again" is
simply being consistent, then. By virtue of his non-belief, he does not adopt a
worldview which does "teach that Christ will come again." He may not
even believe that the Christ depicted in the New Testament actually came the
first time around to begin with.
“Distinguishing Appearance from Reality”
In this brief section of his chapter "The
Problem of Knowing the 'Super-Natural'," Bahnsen makes the following
claims:
Therefore, the Bible distinguishes appearance from
reality, and it provides an ultimate conceptual framework that makes sense of
the world as whole. The Biblical metaphysic affects our outlook and conclusions
regarding every field of study or endeavor, and it serves as the only
foundation for all disciplines from science to ethics (Prov.
1:7; Matt. 7:24-27). (p. 181)
This
is a rather quizzical statement. Where exactly does the bible "distinguish
appearance from reality"? What does it say in this regard? And what
exactly is the distinction between appearance and reality? Does the bible tell
its readers how they can reliably distinguish between appearance and reality?
Is Bahnsen saying that appearances are not real? If we trace it further,
wouldn’t this amount to saying that consciousness is not real? On the same
token, did Bahnsen fully understand that there is a distinction between what we
imagine and what is real? If his followers claim that he did, where did he make
this distinction explicit, and why didn’t he guide his worldview accordingly?
Bahnsen
himself was fond of referring to the first chapter of
For the invisible things of him from the creation of
the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even
his eternal power and Godhead; so that they are without excuse.
The
verse already dumbfounds itself by tidily encapsulating an internal
contradiction. For how can something that is invisible be “clearly seen”? But
add to this unworkable conundrum Bahnsen’s statement that “the Bible
distinguishes appearance from reality.” How well does this statement integrate
with what we read in Romans 1:20? Could it be that the “invisible things” which
appear to our seeing that the apostle wanted to take as evidence of the
Christian god, are merely an appearance, and not reality? Supposing the
presuppositionalist proposes a method by which appearance and reality can be
reliably distinguished (not that he ever will), does Paul’s epistle offer any
evidence that he applied that method in order to make sure that “the invisible
things” he claims “are clearly seen,” are not merely a passing appearance, but
in fact are real?
Bahnsen
says that “the Bible... provides an ultimate conceptual framework that makes
sense of the world as whole.” But how effectively can the bible do this when it
doesn’t even have a theory of concepts, and its very foundation is built on
stolen concepts? The bible clearly and incontrovertibly grants metaphysical
primacy to consciousness, and yet the primacy of consciousness is false. How
can one “make sense of the world as whole” when he views the world as a
creation of consciousness? As a creation of consciousness, it is subject to
whatever the ruling consciousness desires it to be at any given time. We can
say “rocks do not sing,” but if we grant that there is a universe-creating,
reality-ruling consciousness which “controls whatsoever comes to pass” (Van
Til, The Defense of the Faith, p. 160), how could anyone be confident
that “rocks do not sing”? Bahnsen himself asks, "He could even make the
stones cry out, couldn't He?" (Always Ready, pp. 109-110) It
is doubtful that he would have answered this question negatively. For all we
know, the ruling consciousness could have an entire quarry of singing rocks
chorusing its praises in the wilderness. The apologist has no epistemological
jurisdiction here, for his own worldview’s foundations would undermine any
claim to certainty on such basic things. At most he could only claim to be
certain that he can never be certain (an "apparent contradiction"?),
for the only prevailing standard would be absurdity as such, and nothing more.
So
ironically, Bahnsen is correct when he says that “the Biblical metaphysic
affects our outlook and conclusions regarding every field of study or
endeavor.” Of course it would, if it is taken seriously as a truthful portrait
of reality. But it does not follow from this that “it serves as the only
foundation for all disciplines from science to ethics,” and it’s not
unsurprising that Bahnsen gives no argument to support such a bizarre and
untenable thesis.
“Ultimate Questions”
Bahnsen
titled the next paragraph of his chapter “Ultimate Questions,” but yet he does
not ask one question anywhere in it:
So then, "metaphysics" studies such
questions or issues as the nature of existence, the sorts of things that exist,
the classes of existent things, limits of possibility, the ultimate scheme of
things, reality versus appearance, and the comprehensive conceptual framework
used to make sense of the world as a whole. It is not hard to understand, then,
how the term "metaphysics" has come to connote the study of that
which is "beyond the physical realm."" Simple eyeball inspection
of isolated and particular situations in the physical world cannot answer
metaphysical questions like those just enumerated. An individual's limited personal
experience cannot warrant a comprehensive framework encompassing every sort of
existent there may be. Empirical experience merely gives us an appearance of
things; empirical experience cannot in
itself correct illusions or get us beyond appearance to any world
or realm of reality lying beyond. Nor can it determine the limits of the
possible. A particular experience of the physical world does not deal with the
world as whole. Nor does the nature of existence manifest itself in simple
sense perception of any physical object or set of them. (p. 181)
Some
clarification is in order here before proceeding any further. He says that
“’metaphysics’ studies such questions or issues as the nature of existence, the
sorts of things that exist,” etc., but earlier he seemed to mean specifically
“supernatural” things when using the term “metaphysics.” It is doubtful that
even Bahnsen held that only supernatural things exist. So at best, on
the understanding of ‘metaphysics’ that he gives here, it would include
but not be limited to study of “the supernatural.” Presumably, since
natural things exist, if ‘metaphysics’ studies “the nature of existence, the
sorts of things that exist,” the field of metaphysics would at minimum entail
the study of natural things. So unless it is already assumed that “the
supernatural” is real and not imaginary, a person using the term ‘metaphysics’
would not necessarily have “the supernatural” in mind, especially if he did not
subscribe to any form of supernaturalism. Contrary to what Bahnsen’s earlier statements
have indicated, then, one can be “anti-supernatural” without being
“anti-metaphysical.”
But
Bahnsen might have differed with this analysis, for he says that “it is not
hard to understand... how the term ‘metaphysics’ has come to connote the study of
that which is ‘beyond the physical realm’.” By constraining metaphysics to
include “that which is ‘beyond the physical realm’,” Bahnsen implies that
metaphysics would have no interest in studying that which is found within
“the physical realm” unless “the supernatural” were taken seriously and granted
primacy over it. But I see no
reason why we should accept this. What exactly is the difference between
something that is admittedly natural or physical and that which is
“supernatural” or “beyond the physical realm”? Distinctions like this are
obviously assumed by Bahnsen, but he nowhere pinpoints them. Consequently any
distinction between “the supernatural” and “the physical realm” remains
unexpressed, vague, approximate. Perhaps we’re supposed to “just know” how they
are distinguished, as if it were a secret we’re not supposed to put into actual
words.
Bahnsen
seems to think that “’metaphysics’ has come to connote the study of that which
is ‘beyond the physical realm’” because, according to him, it also studies the
“limits of possibility, the ultimate scheme of things, reality versus
appearance, and the comprehensive conceptual framework used to make sense of
the world as a whole.” Even if we accept this, it is still not clear why a
“supernatural” realm needs to be posited in distinction to “the physical
realm.” If metaphysics is devoted to the study of what is real, and “the
physical realm” is real, then certainly we should not expect metaphysics to
ignore that which is within “the physical realm.” But on Bahnsen’s view, “the
physical realm” is, for reasons he does not clearly state, at best relegated to
a secondary position and subordinated to a realm which he calls “supernatural”
if not shoved aside altogether. The result is that, if metaphysics is “the study
of that which is ‘beyond the physical realm’,” it becomes troublesomely unclear
why it would have any importance for beings which exist in “the physical
realm.” We are physical beings (those who doubt this can verify it by taking a
physical knife to their physical skin) and we live in a physical world. We
value physical things (e.g., food, water, shelter, clothing, shoes, beds,
television sets, CDs, computers, cars, other human beings, etc.), and we obtain
them through physical means (action, effort, work, money, trade, etc.). A
worldview whose metaphysics focuses on “that which is ‘beyond the physical
realm’” seems to abandon man along with “the physical realm” that it seeks to
ignore. What could possibly justify this?
Perhaps
Bahnsen thinks that metaphysics studies “that which is ‘beyond the physical
realm’” because the form in which our knowledge of metaphysical truths and
principles is not itself physical. After all, a “comprehensive conceptual
scheme,” which Bahnsen lists among the things which metaphysics studies, is not
something we put in our pocket or contain in a jar. But this would be most
naïve as it would indicate a dismally primitive understanding of man’s mind and
the process by which he forms concepts. Indeed, Bahnsen makes mention of a “comprehensive
conceptual scheme,” but his biblical worldview provides no native theory of
concepts. Concepts do not represent a supernatural dimension; on the contrary,
the mind’s ability to form concepts is as natural as its ability to perceive
physical objects. But for Bahnsen, the conceptual realm somehow implies a
supernatural realm, apparently because the conceptual is not a physical object
that can be studied in a chemistry lab.
One
of the most important relationships which a serious metaphysics should study,
but which Bahnsen nowhere lists among those things which metaphysics – on his
understanding – studies, is the relationship between consciousness and its
objects. An objective worldview is one in which the object of consciousness is
understood to hold metaphysical primacy over the subject of consciousness. On
this view, for example, an object is what it is no matter what the subject
wishes it to be. This is the proper orientation between a subject and its
objects. A subjective worldview is one which allows the subject to hold –
either always (in the case of a privileged subject) or at least occasionally
(when such bestowals are distributed) – metaphysical primacy over its objects.
On this view, there exists at least one subject which has the power to wish its
objects into anything it prefers them to be. This power is often called
“authority” or “sovereignty,” as in the case of Bahnsen’s god. The subjective
view thus constitutes a reversal of the objective view, for it trades on
reversing the proper orientation between a subject and its objects.
Inherent
in Bahnsen’s habit of conflating metaphysics with supernaturalism is the
reversal of the relationship between the subject of consciousness and its
objects. Note that, in addition to studying “such questions or issues as the
nature of existence, the sorts of things that exist, the classes of existent
things” and other matters, metaphysics is also the branch in which the
relationship between consciousness and its objects is first encountered. The
object of study in metaphysics is reality, and the awareness that there
is a reality requires a means of awareness. The issue of metaphysical
primacy asks whether reality exists independent of consciousness, or whether it
conforms to consciousness. This is the most fundamental issue in all
philosophy, for however one answers it, defines the rest of metaphysics,
epistemology, ethics, etc. Unfortunately, Bahnsen expresses no concern for
understanding this fundamental relationship. Whatever observations, inferences,
conclusions or verdicts one reaches in metaphysics, they are by means of
consciousness about some object of consciousness. Thus the question of
the relationship between consciousness and its objects is inescapable.
The
closest Bahnsen comes to the issue of metaphysical primacy is “reality versus
appearance.” But he does not bring this issue up because there is an actual
problem here, or because he has an actual solution to the supposed problem.
Rather, Bahnsen brings it up in order to sow doubt in the mind of the reader
about the efficacy of his own mind, for he nowhere explains how appearance is
different from reality, nor does he explain how any difference between how
reality appears and how reality actually is can be overcome. He interjects this
dichotomy for the express purpose of posing a conflict between man’s mind and
the world he perceives. In actuality, the problem is between Bahnsen’s
worldview and the world in which we exist.
On
an objective theory of perception, there is no insidious conflict between
appearance and reality whatsoever. Appearance is merely the form in
which we are visually aware of something. In any instance of awareness, there
is the object of which we are aware (the what of awareness) and the form
in which we are aware of it (the how of awareness). When we perceive an object,
we are perceiving that object. Kelley explains:
Consciousness is not metaphysically active. It no
more creates its own contents than does the stomach. But it is active
epistemologically in processing those contents. What we are aware of is
defined by reality – there is nothing else to be aware of – but how we
are aware of it is determined by our means of awareness. How could there be any
conflict between these two facts?... Metaphysically, our cognitive faculties
determine the manner in which we grasp reality, but it is reality we grasp. In
perception, the way objects appear to us is partly determined by our perceptual
apparatus...; but the objects themselves appear, the objects themselves we are
aware of by means of their appearances. (The Evidence of the Senses, p.
41)
When
we perceive an object, we have awareness of that object. We do not “perceive
appearances” – that would be a stolen concept. Rather, we perceive objects in the
form dictated by the nature of our awareness and the objects we are perceiving.
But what we are perceiving all along are the objects themselves. And since our
consciousness is real, the form in which we perceive something is just as real
as the object that we are perceiving. Understanding what distinguishes them
from one another allows us to recognize that there really is no conflict here
at all. But the “reality versus appearance” dichotomy is still likely to hold
sway with the defender of supernaturalism, not because he really thinks there
is a conflict between his means of perceiving a turn in the road, a tree, or a
stop sign, and the turn, the tree or the stop sign itself, but because has
accepted a false model of consciousness to begin with, and this false model of
consciousness is vital to his god-beliefs.
Again,
the topic of Bahnsen’s chapter is “The Problem of Knowing the ‘Super-Natural’.”
In knowing anything, there is, as Kelley reminds us, the what of which
we are aware, and the how by which we are aware of it. For Bahnsen to
gain any credibility in his endorsement of supernatural claims, he would at
minimum have to enlighten us on both of these concerns. Remember that on
the jacket of Always Ready, Douglas Wilson hails Bahnsen’s mind as
“nothing if not precise.” What
precisely does the term “supernatural” denote? How precisely does
Bahnsen have awareness of it? At every turn, Bahnsen resists addressing both
questions with any specificity, even though they are fundamental to any claim
to knowledge of “the supernatural.”
Bahnsen
goes on to tell us that “simple eyeball inspection of isolated and particular
situations in the physical world cannot answer metaphysical questions like
those just enumerated.” In other words, he is saying, perceptual observation
“cannot” address such issues as “the nature of existence, the sorts of things
that exist, the classes of existent things, limits of possibility, the ultimate
scheme of things, reality versus appearance, and the comprehensive framework
used to make sense of the world as a whole.” Bahnsen’s reason for stating this
is clear enough: “An individual’s limited personal experience cannot warrant a
comprehensive framework encompassing every sort of existent there may be.” This
can only mean that Bahnsen is taking omniscience as a minimum necessary
condition for answering the metaphysical questions he mentions and forming “the
comprehensive framework used to make sense of the world as a whole.” To possess
answers to the issues he lists, one would presumably need “unlimited personal
experience” and something more than “simple eyeball inspection of isolated and
particular situations in the physical world.” On this view, in order to have “a
comprehensive framework encompassing every sort of existent there may be,” he
would presumably need to have exhaustive knowledge of “every sort of existent
there may be.” So on Bahnsen’s own standard, unless he himself was omniscient,
he didn’t have any answers to these questions. Bahnsen would likely reject this
conclusion for he holds in his back pocket a substitute consciousness which
allegedly possesses the omniscience his standard requires. Thus we have an
epistemology of vicariousness: the believer himself confesses that his own
mind, allegedly created by a perfect, infallible and omnipotent creator, is
basically worthless when it comes to supplying “the comprehensive framework
encompassing every sort of existent there may be” which metaphysics is intended
to deliver, but this does not matter for he has access (by means he does not
identify) to a consciousness which is supernatural (which he does not precisely
define in positive terms) and which has all the answers already. It’s the
standard “I may not know, but my god knows” position in philosophy.
Bahnsen
is on record repeatedly claiming that the Christian worldview is the
precondition to intelligibility of human experience. This is one of his
fundamental debating points, a claim which is couched in the context of
epistemological vicariousness described above. Naturally we would not expect
Bahnsen to confess that he himself lacks “the comprehensive framework
encompassing every sort of existent there may be.” And although he would likely
claim to possess such a framework, he would likely admit readily that he
himself does not have direct awareness of “every sort of existent there may
be.” He does not need such awareness, for all he needs to do is stipulate that
“every sort of existent there may be” was created by his god. Since his god is
omniscient and created every existent distinct from itself, it necessarily has
exhaustive knowledge of “every sort of existent there may be,” and that
exhaustive knowledge is the master “comprehensive framework” in which “every
sort of existent there may be” finds its proper orderly place. So on this view,
Bahnsen himself does not have the requisite exhaustive knowledge needed to
inform “the comprehensive framework encompassing every sort of existent there
may be” which is allegedly the precondition to the intelligibility of human
experience, but he claims his god has this knowledge. How could he know this?
Well, that question comes under the topic of his present chapter: “The Problem
of Knowing the ‘Super-Natural’.” So again, the what and the how
of this alleged cognition are what Bahnsen needs to address, but so far he’s
not addressed either in the slightest.
All
throughout, Bahnsen seems to be denigrating the role of sense experience in
developing the “comprehensive framework” that metaphysics is supposed to
deliver. Indeed, if Bahnsen thinks that this “comprehensive framework” is
pre-packaged by an omniscient deity in the first place and somehow deposited
into select human minds (such as Bahnsen’s own), then talk of “developing” this
comprehensive framework from some fundamental starting point is anathema to
Bahnsen’s position. Since Bahnsen’s “limited personal experience cannot
warrant” this “comprehensive framework” any better than anyone else’s
experience can, he wouldn’t know where to begin if he had to assemble it on his
own. He’s so familiar with it and his own mental abilities that he doesn’t know
how he or any other human being could build such a contrivance.
But
whatever the case may be, Bahnsen is sure that one cannot develop such a
“comprehensive framework” from the “limited personal experience” man has in the
world. No experience that man can have will ever be enough for Bahnsen. The
senses are inappropriate anyway, because whatever divine agency created them,
in all its otherworldly brilliance, saw to it that they merely give us awareness
of appearances, not of reality proper. As Bahnsen puts it, “Empirical
experience merely gives us an appearance of things; empirical experience cannot
in itself correct illusions or get us beyond appearance to any world or
realm of reality lying beyond.” Bahnsen happily tells us that “the Bible
distinguishes appearance from reality,” perhaps in order to nag his readers
without going into any detail. At any rate, all this means that empirical
experience could not be the means by which Bahnsen acquires awareness of “the
supernatural.” Again, Bahnsen only tells us how he does not know what he
calls “the supernatural”; he does not explain how he could know what he
claims to know. He constantly keeps this issue conveniently and safely out of
sight.
Bahnsen
avoids disclosing his position on what role empirical experience does play in
acquiring knowledge. Does sense experience for Bahnsen play no role in
acquiring any of the knowledge which ultimately informs the “comprehensive
framework” by which we make sense of the world? Bahnsen does not confront this
question, but from what he does say one can easily get the impression that, on
his view, the senses (“empirical experience”) play no role of any significance.
Sense experience is limited, and what we presumably need is unlimited
experience. Also, “empirical experience merely gives us an appearance of
things,” which suggests that the senses cannot give us direct awareness of
reality itself, or anything “beyond the physical realm.” “Appearance” is a kind
of distorting filter through which we can only “see... darkly” (cf. I Cor. 13:12). Bahnsen never questions his supposition that
there is a “beyond” to begin with, for he assumes that there is such a place,
even though he nowhere explains how he or anyone else could know this. And in
spite of this failing, rejecting “supernatural” claims is always unwarranted
and indicates an unjustifiable bias. Go figure. And since for Bahnsen there is
a difference – indeed, a conflict – between appearance and reality – a conflict
Bahnsen nowhere explains how one could resolve – sense experience could only
deceive or at best lead us off track. Man’s cognitive inabilities are no doubt
a testament to the infinite wisdom of his creator.
So
two assumptions are vital to Bahnsen’s discounting of sense experience, at
least to the extent that he wants to marginalize any cognitive role they may
play in providing man with the “comprehensive framework” he needs for making
sense of the world in which he exists. They are:
- sense experience is limited (and our “comprehensive
framework” must have “unlimited” experience)
- sense experience leads to the
“reality-versus-appearance” conflict (and sense experience is unable to resolve
it)
Bahnsen
apparently has both angles covered. Even if one wants to argue that man can
assemble a “comprehensive framework” suitable for making sense of the world in
which he exists on the basis of the limited experience that his senses provide,
Bahnsen can hit him with the “reality-versus-appearance” conflict. And if one
wants to argue that the distinction between reality and appearances do not in
fact prohibit the senses from providing him with the “comprehensive framework”
he needs to make sense of the world in which he exists, Bahnsen can hit him
with the “sense experience is limited” objection.
Unfortunately,
throughout all this, Bahnsen ignores two important factors:
If
we throw out sense experience, or even neutralize its epistemological
significance, we need an alternative mode of awareness in order to acquire the knowledge
which informs the “comprehensive framework” by which we make sense of the world
in which we exist. It will not do to say that we have knowledge of X but no
mode by which we could be aware of X or of the stepping stones needed to infer
X. Bahnsen hastens to discount sense experience, but does not identify an
alternative mode of awareness. He wants to discount the senses in part because
they allegedly only give us “appearances,” not reality as such. But if
appearance is simply the form which our awareness of objects takes, then there
really is no conflict here, since both the object we perceive and the form in
which we perceive it have identity and are factual, i.e., objective. Once we
grasp this fact, we have what we need for avoiding the conflict that Bahnsen
might charge on account of the “reality versus appearance” dichotomy.
The
other reason he wants to discount the senses is because they only give us
limited awareness. But what could possibly be an alternative to limited
experience? Unlimited experience? Why suppose such a thing is either
possible or achievable? Why suppose such a notion is actually meaningful? What
would “unlimited experience” be like? We can put the words “unlimited” and
“experience” together, just as we can put the words “square” and “circle”
together. But together are they really meaningful? Indeed, it seems that once
we have called something “experience,” it is limited to what is meant by the
concept ‘experience’. Since to exist is to be something specific, since A is
limited to itself, the claim that “unlimited experience” is either possible or
real seems quite incoherent. If Bahnsen wants to argue that “limited
experience” is insufficient, and his preferred alternative is supposed to be
“unlimited experience,” then he needs to explain what he means by it before it
can be seriously entertained. Otherwise, it seems that he is straining to
manufacture points against the efficacy of the human mind, something which he
wants to claim his perfect creator-deity created. Quickly it appears we will
find ourselves in the quicksand of a Kantian gimmick if we follow Bahnsen on
his wild goose chase.
Meanwhile,
we should ask: What is so insufficient about “limited experience”? When I see a
tree, my experience is limited to what I experience. But if I see a tree in my
experience, I still see a tree. I still have awareness of an object. Indeed, I
do not need awareness of all trees in the universe and across eternity to have
awareness of the one tree before me. It is a fact that I am seeing something.
Perhaps at this point Bahnsen would like to raise the
“reality-versus-appearance” objection. “How do you know what you’re seeing is a
tree?” So now I am supposed to have a mind sufficiently sophisticated to
produce all kinds of reasoning to prove that what I see is actually a tree, and
yet I am supposed to buy into the premise that my senses are so deceptive that
I might not actually be seeing a tree. And really, what argument would Bahnsen
accept at this point? Perhaps Bahnsen would be satisfied if I were to say
something like, “I am absolutely certain that what I perceive before me is a
tree because the triune God of Christianity has guaranteed that He will not lie
to me, that as creator of my empirical apparatus He will not allow me to be so
misled.” This is nothing more than the invisible magic being defense: it does
not deal with the issue whatsoever, and only lays a new, completely arbitrary
burden on the load of burdens Bahnsen would have us accept on our way to
adopting such confessions.
Now,
the conventional attack against the senses has often been the charge that
knowledge has universal scope while the senses do not provide universal
awareness. Therefore the leap from awareness of particulars to universally
binding knowledge is unwarranted, unjustified, arbitrary, subjective, or any
other denigrating adjective the haters of man’s mind want to apply to it.
Perception on this view could hardly serve as a suitable tie between knowledge
and reality. This is Bahnsen’s (unargued) assertion
that “empirical experience merely gives us an appearance of things.” Couple
this with the supposition that the senses distort the objects we perceive, and
we have Bahnsen’s two-fold attack against empiricism in a nutshell. Keep in
mind that, all the while, we as readers of Bahnsen’s writing are expected to
follow the arguments of this “precise” and “brilliant scholar,” even though our
faculties are too incompetent to distinguish between the reality of what he has
written and he may merely appear to have written.
Of
course, attacks like this only tell us that the attacker does not understand
how concepts are formed in the first place. Universality is a property of
concepts; it is not a property we should expect to find in perception. Even
more importantly, neither “unlimited experience” nor omniscience is a
precondition for the universal scope of conceptual reference. Concepts are how
the human mind expands its awareness beyond the immediate inputs provided by
sense perception. The content of concepts is based ultimately on what we
perceive, but it is not limited to only those units which we have encountered
personally. In fact, if the Objectivist account of concepts is true, then there
is no problem in supposing that we can acquire knowledge having universal scope
on the basis of “limited personal experience.” On the Objectivist account,
concepts can be formed by integrating as few as only two units which are
similar in some way. All objective units have the minimal similarity in the
fact that they exist. (Incidentally, these points blow Van Til’s
“One-Many” argument out of the water.) If we are able to form concepts – i.e.,
open-ended classes which are universal in their scope of reference – on the
basis of only two (or more) units, then “limited personal experience” is no
hindrance to developing a “comprehensive framework used to make sense of the
world as a whole.” If “an individual’s limited personal experience”
incorporates the Objectivist account of concepts, he has all the “warrant” he
needs for informing the “comprehensive framework” he needs to make sense of the
world and his existence within it. And if we have such a “comprehensive
framework” along with the “warrant” we need for whatever reason to have it,
then we have what we need to “correct illusions.” This is one of the functions
of reason: to correct misidentifications. But what reason will not do is take
us from this world to another world contradicting it. The only thing that can
do this is the imagination, and its product is fantasy, not knowledge. And it
is against these – fantasy and imagination – that Bahnsen fails to distinguish
his god and whatever else he claims exists “beyond the physical realm.”
Now
internal to Christianity, Bahnsen’s attempts to discredit empirical experience
are not without their consequences. If empirical experience is insufficient to
get us from the world of appearances to some realm that exists “beyond the
physical realm,” then what are we to make of Romans 1:20? This passage, beloved
by many Reformed apologists, states the following:
For the invisible things of him from the creation of
the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even
his eternal power and Godhead; so that they are without excuse.
Now
it has always struck me as odd to say that “invisible things... are clearly
seen.” If they are seen at all, whether clearly or obscurely, one can hardly
call them “invisible.” At any rate, if the mode of awareness indicated here by
the phrase “clearly seen” is taken to be a type of empirical experience (e.g.,
eyesight), then what are we to say of the distinction between appearance and
reality, which Bahnsen himself says the bible acknowledges? If there is a
distinction between appearance and reality, then there very well may be a
distinction between what appears to be “the invisible things of him from the
creation of the world” and the world as it really is. Bahnsen would no doubt
want to immunize the bible’s own statements from the objections he wants to
raise against man’s perceptual faculties.
As
for the “limits of possibility,” this actually belongs to the branch of
epistemology, since possibility is epistemological, and what we determine to be
possible depends on our understanding of what is actual rather than the other
way around. Indeed, it is in the context of a “comprehensive conceptual
framework used to make sense of the world as a whole” that we are able to
rationally assess the possibility of any proposals.
And
though for some thinkers “the term ‘metaphysics’ has come to connote the study
of that which is ‘beyond the physical realm’,” this is misleading. It is not as
if metaphysics as a field of study were happy to ignore “the physical realm”;
however many thinkers may in fact feel intimidated by physical realities which
do not conform to their preferences, and thus retreat into an imaginary realm
where anything goes. If one is serious about studying “that which is ‘beyond
the physical realm’,” he would at minimum need to identify the means by which
he acquires awareness of “that which is ‘beyond the physical realm’,” if
anything in fact exists “beyond the physical realm.”
Bahnsen
writes:
Simple eyeball inspection of isolated and particular
situations in the physical world cannot answer metaphysical questions like
those just enumerated. An individual’s limited personal experience cannot
warrant a comprehensive framework encompassing every sort of existent there may
be. (p. 181)
There goes Romans 1:20.
If
“a comprehensive framework encompassing every sort of existent there may be”
does not come from “an individual’s limited personal experience,” then where
does it come from? Is it magically installed into our minds? Is it then
infallible? What if mine disagrees with someone else’s?
Is the “comprehensive framework” that Bahnsen has in mind conceptual or
something other than conceptual? If it is conceptual, what is Bahnsen’s account
of concepts? If it is something other than conceptual, how can Bahnsen claim to
know it?
The
task of statements like the one Bahnsen gives above,
is to discount the role and relevance of one’s own firsthand perception of the
world in developing “a comprehensive framework.” Essentially, Bahnsen’s
reasoning is: ‘Since one’s own firsthand awareness is not awareness of everything
(i.e., since one is not omniscient to begin with), he cannot formulate his own
“comprehensive framework”.’ If man’s consciousness were bound to the perceptual
level of consciousness (i.e., if it had no recourse to the conceptual level),
there might be some argument for this; though as an argument for
skepticism, it would still have its work cut out for itself. However,
since man has the ability to form concepts on the basis of what he perceives,
Bahnsen’s argument is not only fallacious, it’s downright naïve, especially
coming from someone sporting a philosophy degree. At the very least, such
statements betray a glaring ignorance of concepts, how they are formed and how
they expand our awareness beyond the perceptual level of consciousness.
It
needs to be pointed out that we demonstrate the ability of concepts to expand
our awareness beyond our perceptual limitations whenever we talk about great
distances, for example, in terms of units that reduce to the perceptual level.
Applying arithmetic operations to units of measurement is one means by which we
expand our awareness beyond what we perceive at any given moment.
Sadly,
Bahnsen himself probably did not even realize how profoundly he was
undercutting his own case by slipping his own head through the noose he had
just fashioned, for after all, he was operating on the basis of a Dark Ages
worldview.
“Suprasensible Reality”
After
sanitizing metaphysics of any dependence on sense experience, Bahnsen rests on
the conclusion that “metaphysics eventually studies non-sensuous or suprasensible reality.” When reading this, it is
hard to resist interpreting Bahnsen to mean nonsensical reality. After
all, he has so far given us no guidance on how to discriminate “the
supernatural” from sheer nonsense. Bahnsen wants to say that his god, its magic
kingdom and its eternal gulag belong to the category of “suprasensible
reality.” Why could not the Lahu tribesman make the
same claim about Geusha, the supreme being of their
religion? It is easy to see how a child might claim that his imaginary
friend exists in a “suprasensible reality,” and
thus should not expect its existence to be verifiable by means of empirical
tests. If such claims are valid for Bahnsen, why could they not be valid for
any claim that, on a rational basis, would appropriately be deemed arbitrary?
Again, how do we distinguish between Bahnsen’s “suprasensible
reality” and his imagination?
In
this section of his chapter on “The Problem of Knowing the ‘Super-Natural’,”
Bahnsen tells us of the methods that we should not expect to use in
order to validate his supernatural claims, leaving unattended the
identification of any reliable method by which one can validate his
supernatural claims.
As
I pointed out earlier, Bahnsen often really means supernaturalism when
he uses the word “metaphysics.” Supernaturalism has engulfed metaphysics so
completely for Bahnsen that even he is not aware of the perversity of this
insidious equivocation. He has sought to hide this by arguing that the
“ultimate conceptual framework” that philosophers use to separate the
intellectual wheat from the nonsensical chaff is not something we perceive
directly. But anyone could have told you this. Indeed, there is a fundamental
distinction between the perceptual and the conceptual levels of consciousness.
But this distinction in no way invalidates the senses or annuls their
epistemological significance, nor does it suggest that “the physical realm” was
created by an act of consciousness. In his effort to protect Christianity from
the growing “anti-supernatural bias” of modern academics, Bahnsen has swapped
metaphysics as a study of being for metaphysics as a study in concealing the
subjectivism of one’s worldview. This is accomplished by keeping things vague
and ambiguous. For instance, he writes:
In the nature of the case the metaphysician examines
issues transcending physical nature or matters removed from particular sense
experiences. And yet the results of metaphysics are alleged to give us
intelligible and informative statements about reality. That is, metaphysics
makes claims which have substantive content, but which are not fully dependent
on or restricted to empirical experience (observation, sensation). (pp.
181-182)
Does
Bahnsen give an example of what he means by “issues transcending physical
nature or matters removed from particular sense experiences”? Do the issues
which “transcend physical nature” have anything to do with the reality in which
we actually live (as opposed to some imaginary realm)? He wants to say
that “the results of metaphysics [so-conceived] are alleged to give us
intelligible and informative statements about reality.” But how does this work?
If metaphysics is an examination of “matters removed from particular sense
experiences,” what informs them? What is their connection to the reality they
allegedly describe? Can it be that the issues Bahnsen has in mind are actually
the result of abstraction from sense experience, and Bahnsen simply does not
know how this process works and thus mistakenly supposes that sense experience
has no fundamental role in metaphysics? It does appear that this is the case.
He’s all a-swirl in his own ignorance of how the conceptual mind works. How
does Bahnsen know that the “substantive content” of (conceptually legitimate)
metaphysical claims is “not fully dependent on or restricted to empirical
experience (observation, sensation)”? Is it the case that what Bahnsen takes as
metaphysical claims which have “substantive content” are actually based on
imagination and fabrication rather than on an objective process of identifying
reality? If they are based on reality, they need something to connect them to
reality, namely a process by which their content is derived from reality.
Otherwise, how could we have any confidence in the supposition that the content
of those claims has anything to do with reality? What process of validation
does Bahnsen propose? He has not identified any means by which we can gain
awareness of what he calls “supernatural,” nor has he identified any means by
which we can confidently discriminate between what he calls “supernatural” and
what he is imagining. Unless Bahnsen can identify a connection between his
metaphysical claims (which he presented above) and reality, are we to assume
that a connection is there anyway? Who would encourage us to be so
intellectually irresponsible and imprudent, and why?
Notice
how 'always ready' Bahnsen is to identify those means by which his supernatural
claims are not supported:
For that reason the means by which metaphysical
[i.e., supernatural] claims are intellectually supported is not limited to
natural observation and scientific experimentation. Herein lies
the offense of metaphysics [i.e., supernaturalism] to the modern mind.[1] Metaphysics [i.e.,
supernaturalism] presumes to tell us something about the objective world which we
do not directly perceive in ordinary experience and which cannot be verified
through the methods of natural science. (p. 182)
The
“offense” of supernaturalism is not only in its stipulation of which means do not
support its claims, but also in its conspicuous failure to identify in positive
terms the means which allegedly do support its claims. Those who claim
that the supernatural is real do not present evidence of the supernatural, and
what they claim is difficult if not impossible to distinguish from what is
merely imaginary. One can, of course, imagine the things
Bahnsen claims (just as we can imagine the things described in a Harry Potter
novel), but in order to accept such claims as truth, Bahnsen needs to identify
some means other than imagination by which we can "know" what he's
talking about.
With
the development of science, thanks to the rebirth of reason which effectively
put religion in retreat, many thinkers are now more critical about what they accept
as truth, just as people who want to take care of their bodies are more
critical about what they put into their bodies. So when they encounter claims
which are not backed up by evidence and/or contradict knowledge that has
already been validated, they naturally (and rightly) reject them, whether or
not they find them “offensive.” In fact, it is typically the religionist
himself who is offended when his claims are not accepted on his say so.
After all, he accepted these same or similar claims on someone else’s say so,
so it is very frustrating for him to find others who are not as unquestioning
and uncritical as he is. Even worse, if thinkers arm
themselves with fundamental principles which are impervious to the
religionist’s anti-rational attacks (such as the
primacy of existence), the religionist often becomes so inflamed that he
resorts to name-calling (and some will even try to justify this behavior).
So
we are finding that Bahnsen is no different in this respect. He is quick to
point out the kinds of methods which will not substantiate or verify his
supernatural claims, but he nowhere identifies any methods which will
substantiate or verify those claims. This is most unhelpful to his own case,
and yet he wants to slander those who don't readily accept such claims on his
say so.
Bahnsen
continues:
Of course, antipathy to metaphysics [i.e.,
supernaturalism] is even more pronounced in the case of Christianity because
its claims about the entire scheme of things include declarations about the
existence and character of God, the origin and nature of the world, as well as
the nature and destiny of man. Such teachings do not stem from direct, eyeball
experience of the physical world, but transcend particular sensations and
derive from divine revelation. They are not verified empirically in a point by
point fashion. Scripture makes absolute pronouncements about the nature of the
real world as a whole. Biblical doctrine presents truths which are not
circumscribed or limited by personal experience and which are not qualified or relativized by an individual's own way of looking at
things. Such authoritarian claims about such difficult and wide-ranging matters
are offensive to the skeptical mood and religious prejudices of the present
day. The modern age has a contrary spirit regarding philosophical (especially
religious) claims which speak of anything super-natural, anything "beyond
the physical," anything metaphysical. (p. 182)
Here’s
a case in point. Bahnsen tells us that Christianity’s claims “do not stem from
direct, eyeball experience of the physical world,” they “are not verified
empirically in a point by point fashion,” they “are not circumscribed or
limited by personal experience” and “are not qualified or relativized
by an individual’s own way of looking at things.” Bahnsen tells us which
criteria do not support his supernatural claims, but he does not tell us
which criteria do support them. He simply tells us that the contents of
his claims “transcend particular sensations and derive from divine revelation.”
In other words, he appeals to magic in order to substantiate them. He
tells us that magic is real, and to validate this claim he appeals to magic.
This is just another instance of tape-loop
apologetics. Round and round in a circle we go. And meanwhile, as is
typically the case with Christianity's defenders, what the apologist calls
"divine revelation" is indistinguishable from simply and uncritically
accepting what is written in an ancient storybook. And to rationalize this,
Bahnsen concocts an epistemology of negation, telling us how his claims are not
validated, and remaining silent on how they could be validated.
“Pure Motives?”
Bahnsen
wants to suppose there’s something more than intellectual behind anyone’s
rejection of something he cannot distinguish from imaginative fantasy. He
writes:
It would be profitable to pause and reflect upon an
insightful comment by a recent writer in the area of philosophical metaphysics.
W. H. Walsh has written, "It must be allowed that the reaction against
[metaphysics – i.e., supernaturalism] has been ... so violent indeed as to
suggest that the issues involved in the controversy must be something more than
academic." (p. 182)
To
appreciate the context of Walsh’s quote, it would be interesting to see some
examples of what he considers “violent” reactions. Are they merely words on a
page that believers in the supernatural find disturbing (some
believers have shown themselves to be quite insecure, in fact), or are they
actually riotous actions causing harm and destruction to life and limb? Would
these theists consider my point-by-point examination of Bahnsen’s attempts to
defend supernaturalism “violent” in some way?
And
what about theist’s reactions to “anti-supernaturalism”? Is it not also vehement
and full of indignation that they, too, can likewise be called “violent,” even
if they do not result in the turning over of vehicles on the street and the
burning down of houses? If the “violence” of the reactions that Walsh and
Bahnsen has in mind turns out to be nothing more than, say, petty name-calling
and insulting language, well, it seems that Bahnsen is prone to some “violence”
of his own. As we have already seen, on pg. 56 of Always Ready, Bahnsen
calls people who do not believe in his invisible magic being “dull, stubborn,
boorish, obstinate and stupid.” Are we to suppose that there is something more
than intellectual to the believer’s faith commitments when merely the existence
of non-believers prompts him to contemptuous derision like this? If not, why
not?
Of
course, Bahnsen is all too happy to agree with Walsh:
Precisely. The issues are indeed more than academic.
They are a matter of life and death - eternal life and death. (p. 182)
That
must be it: non-believers must have some kind of death wish. That explains why
they reject the supernatural and other irrational ideas. They deny religion
because they secretly want to suffer the fate of religion’s non-believers. It
could not be that they simply don’t believe what religion teaches, or in fact
understand why religion is irrational. They want eternal torment. That is what
Bahnsen apparently would have his readers believe. If they believe
Christianity’s myths and legends, it is quite possible that they’ll believe
Bahnsen’s apologetic hazing as well.
Bahnsen
appeals to the bible to buttress his suspicions:
Christ said, "And this is life eternal, that
they should know thee the only true God, and him whom thou didst send"
(John 17:3). However, if the unbeliever can stand on the claim that such a God cannot be known because nothing
transcending the physical (nothing "metaphysical") can be known, then
the issue of eternal destiny is not raised. (pp. 182-183)
As
should be clear by now, we do not have to “stand on the claim that such a God cannot
be known because nothing transcending the physical (nothing ‘metaphysical’)
can be known.” Rather, we can stand on the truth of the axioms and the primacy
of existence, truths which the religious believer himself must assume while
denying, in order to expose religion’s commitment to irrationality. So long as
one realizes that there is a fundamental distinction between reality and
imagination, and religious defenders cannot provide an objective method by which
one can distinguish between what they claim and what they may merely be
imagining, then rejecting religious teachings is merely being intellectually
responsible.
Bahnsen
then identifies what he finds most worrisome:
Accordingly, men may think and do as they please,
without distracting questions about their nature and destiny. (p. 183)
Why
would it bother Bahnsen or anyone else if other “men may think and do as they
please”? The thought that “men may think and do as they please” really bothered
Jim Jones, too.
Why
is it that religious leaders so often find intellectual liberty objectionable?
Is it because intellectual liberty threatens their leadership, livelihood, or
the perks of their station? Bahnsen claims that “every believer wants to see
the truth of Christ believed and honored by others.” (Always Ready, p.
115) My initial thought on reading this was, “Does Christ want this, too?” If
Christ is omnipotent and able to change non-believers into believers (as is
supposedly the case with Christians themselves, according to Bahnsen’s type of
Reformed Theology), then whatever is the case now must be what Christ wants to
be the case now. After all, according to Bahnsen’s mentor Van Til, “God
controls whatsoever comes to pass” (The Defense of the Faith, p. 160).
Indeed, if Jesus can make a visiting appearance before Saul of Tarsus as he was
on his way to persecute Christians, that same Jesus should be able to appear
before anyone whose heart needs to be changed. If Jesus doesn’t do this, well,
that is not the non-believer’s fault.
And
what of those who do not consider “questions about their nature and destiny” to
be “distracting,” even though they do not believe in any invisible magic
beings? What of those who are pleased to contemplate such questions? Personally
speaking, I enjoy contemplating such questions. But I still observe the
distinction between the real and the imaginary, and this is what earns me the
religionists’ contempt.
Then
Bahnsen projects what worries him onto everyone else:
Men will, as it were, build a roof over their heads
in hopes of keeping out any distressing revelation from a transcendent God. The
anti-metaphysical perspective of the modern age functions as just such a
protective ideological roof for the unbeliever. (p. 183)
An
old polemical tactic is to broad-brush one’s accusations at large without
naming specific culprits or citing evidence to substantiate the charge being
made. Here Bahnsen shows that he is familiar with this tactic. Does Bahnsen
identify those who allegedly “build a roof over their heads in hopes of keeping
out any distressing revelation from a transcendent God”? No, he does not
identify any particular individual who does this. Presumably Bahnsen has in
mind anyone who disputes the existence of his god. Does he produce any evidence
to substantiate his charge that those anonymous persons “build a roof over
their heads” to keep out the Christian god? No, he doesn’t. All he provides is
a quote from Nietzsche, but that didn’t prove anything but the fact that
Bahnsen had to dig a quote out of a source that is some 100 or so years old to
find an instance of a non-Christian apparently providing a case in point (when
in fact it didn’t).
Worshippers
of Geusha, the supreme being of the Lahu tribe, could play the same game. They could quite
easily say that men seek to “build a roof over their heads in hopes of keeping
out any distressing revelation from” Geusha. And on
their Geusha-centric “presuppositions,” this would of
course “make sense.” But is it an argument? No, it is not.
What’s
noteworthy in either case, is the fact that there would be no need to
“build a roof over” one’s head to begin with. Bahnsen betrays the very
irrational fear that the bible seeks to inculcate in its readers, a fear which
Bahnsen bought into and projected on everyone else.
Bahnsen
was no doubt emotionally taken captive by passages such as Luke 12:5, which
states:
Fear him, which after he hath killed hath power to
cast into hell.
Of
course, if one grants the whole bag of assumptions that the bible uses to
entice fish into its nets, such passages will of course be very compelling
psychologically. But that’s just the point: why grant the basic claims of the
Christian worldview to begin with? This just brings us back to the original
issue of “the problem of knowing the ‘super-natural’,” which Bahnsen leaves
unattended in characteristic manner.
Indeed,
what we have here is a classic case of projection: Bahnsen fears “the
supernatural” because he thinks it is something both real and beyond his
comprehension (and yet he insists that we accept it as “knowledge” and postures
as a spokesman for its wishes and pronouncements). He wants protection from
supernatural wrath, so as a matter of course he supposes everyone else does,
too. Indeed, if one thought there were an angry supernatural deity in the first
place, who wouldn’t want to take cover? Bahnsen takes cover in his feigned
piety, by pretending to be a know-it-all when it comes to “the supernatural”
(however, do not ask him how one can have awareness of “the supernatural” or
distinguish what he calls “the supernatural” from his vain imaginations).
Bahnsen simply projects his own irrationality onto everyone else, supposing all
human beings are just as frightened and dishonest as he is. The choice to be
dishonest “accounts for” the persisting and insistent delusions of the theist.
In
spite of the deception that shines through the faded patina of Bahnsen’s
feigned piety, he brings the discussion back to the topic at hand:
The fact is that one cannot avoid metaphysical
commitments. The very denial of the possibility of knowledge transcending
experience is in itself a
metaphysical judgment. Thus the question is not whether one should have metaphysical beliefs, but it comes
down to the question of which kind
of metaphysic one should affirm. (p. 183)
I
would agree that “one cannot avoid metaphysical commitments,” so long as “metaphysical”
neither equates nor implies “the supernatural.” I certainly do not think it is
the case that “one cannot avoid supernatural commitments.” I am living
proof of this. As for considering “the possibility of knowledge transcending
experience,” this not only depends on one’s metaphysical view, but also on what
assumptions are packed into the notion of “knowledge transcending experience.”
It is not clear what Bahnsen means by this expression, for he nowhere makes it
explicitly clear. If he means knowledge that is implicitly available as a
result of conceptual integration or inductive generalizations based on
objective models, then yes, such knowledge is in fact possible. But if by
“knowledge transcending experience” Bahnsen means to denote some ideational
content that is ultimately fictitious or based on imagination (even if it is
not admitted as such), then I would say it is wrong to call such content
“knowledge.” ‘Fantasy’ is the appropriate concept to denote this.
And
yes, if it is the case that “the question is not whether one should have
metaphysical beliefs” – because “one cannot avoid metaphysical commitments” – I
would add that “it comes down” not only “to the question of which
kind of metaphysic one should affirm,” but also how consistently one’s
worldview applies that metaphysic. My worldview openly and knowingly affirms
the metaphysic of the primacy of existence in the subject-object relationship.
And my worldview is consistent with this metaphysic. It is, in fact, an
extension of this principle, the essential principle of objectivity, applied to
the rest of philosophy. Christianity, as we have seen, affirms a metaphysic
which grants primacy to consciousness. Can Bahnsen consistently apply this
principle in his operative view of the world? Bahnsen nowhere engages the issue
of metaphysical primacy, and yet here he is, talking about metaphysical
commitments, judgments and their associated principles. Why does he avoid the
issue of the proper relationship between subject and object? Did he not think
there is a proper relationship between a subject and its objects? Or, is this
something one need not address in his metaphysical views? Or, is it something
anyone can be justified in taking for granted without ever understanding what
his professed views imply in regards to this relationship? Since Bahnsen
remained silent on this issue, we will never know. But one thing’s for sure: we
won’t learn about the proper relationship between a subject and its objects
from Bahnsen.
Failing
to address this issue when he had the opportunity, Bahnsen then sought to turn
his guns on those who do not embrace his particular brand of subjectivism,
namely Calvinist Christianity:
The apostle Paul teaches us that all unbelievers
(including Nietzsche) "suppress the truth in unrighteousness" (Rom.
1:18); they attempt to hide the truth about God from themselves due to their
immoral lives. "The carnal mind is enmity against God" (
Because
he cannot present any epistemology whcih warrants any
assertion of "the supernatural," Bahnsen wants to morph the issue
into a matter of moral impropriety. He cannot rationally justify belief in the
supernatural, but he's still anxious to vent his contempt for the spoilsports.
So Bahnsen reiterates the Pauline accusation that non-believers "suppress
the truth in unrighteousness," and "attempt to hide the truth about
God from themselves due to their immoral lives." These are not light
accusations to say the least. Apparently “mind[ing]
earthly things” – like one’s own life, the welfare of one’s loved ones, the
consequences of one’s choices and actions – is a vice. Note that he echoes
these charges even though he nowhere identifies any means by which a human
being can acquire awareness of what he calls "the supernatural," or
by which we can confidently distinguish between what he calls "the
supernatural" and what he may very well be merely imagining. It is common
for those who are trying to hide something to redirect attention away from
their subterfuge by making accusations against individuals. The goal of such a
move is to put others on the defensive, thus enabling evasion. But here Bahnsen
does not restrict his accusations to specific individuals. He broad-brushes
with very wide strokes, accusing people he does not even know of living
"immoral lives." And what's behind the charge that they live
"immoral lives"? Merely the fact that they do not believe in Bahnsen's
invisible magic beings. And why should they, especially given the fact that
Bahnsen does not explain how we could be aware of "supernatural"
agents or confidently discriminate them from the believer's imagination?
Indeed, Bahnsen fails in this task even when he set its before himself. Can it
be that Bahnsen is simply projecting here? Can it be that the immorality that
is being swept under the rug is Bahnsen's own dishonesty as he tries to defend
a worldview which insists on faking reality?
All these sweeping accusations, asserted without any evidence whatsoever,
probably made Bahnsen feel good for a moment. By putting the blame on a
collective of anonymous persons despised because of their non-belief in his
deity, Bahnsen finds momentary relief from his guilt, the guilt that results
from enshrining a fake environment and pretending that it is reality while
denigrating methods that even he uses on a daily basis.
“The Case Against Metaphysics”
What
is the case against supernaturalism? Bahnsen wants to know. But before
addressing this question, we need to ask: What is the case for
supernaturalism? Bahnsen has been hailed as one of the most talented and
formidable of Christian apologists, but what case has he presented in favor
of supernaturalism? He has presented no case at all. He claims that there is a
realm "beyond the physical realm," a realm allegedly populated by
beings which "surpass the limits of nature," a realm which lies, not
merely beyond the reach of man's senses (for telescopes and microscopes prove
that we are able to expand the reach of our senses, and it is doubtful that
Bahnsen would admit that looking through a high-powered telescope will one day
give us a glance of a supernatural being), but beyond any ability we will ever
have to perceive. However, Bahnsen identifies no alternative means by which we
could have awareness of what he calls "the supernatural." So if
Bahnsen claims to have awareness of "the supernatural," by what means
does he have it, and why doesn't he tell us? If he does not claim to have
awareness of "the supernatural," then what is he talking about, and
how can we know? Blank out. Furthermore, because human consciousness has its
limits and because the human mind can imagine things that "surpass"
those limits, men will always be able to claim that some thing (which they
imagine) exists beyond our ability to perceive. But Bahnsen provides no
indication of how we can discriminate between what he calls "the
supernatural" and what he may in fact only be imagining. These concerns hang
like a dark shadow over every point that Bahnsen has sought to raise in his
apologetic, and yet he ignores them throughout.
Sadly, those who accept supernatural claims do so on the say so of those who
author or reiterate those claims, not on the basis of any objective evidence
that impartial parties can discover and verify for themselves (hence presuppositionalism's disdain for so-called
"autonomous reasoning"). And those who demand unearned authority in
such manner already show their willingness to abuse the trust of their
followers, taking such trust as license to make the story up as they go (for
their followers show that they will believe anything on their leaders' say so).
As we already know, men have five senses. It would literally be as easy as
child's play to claim that there exists something which could only be perceived
if we had the appropriate sixth sense, which is never named and which we lack
anyway. If we had 200 sense modalities, one could always come along and assert
the existence of something we'd need a 201st sense modality to perceive. But
how did the one making these claims perceive it in the first place if he lacks
that crucial 201st sense modality? Again, blank out. We will never be able to
perceive what men imagine, because the imaginary is not real, and something
needs to be real in order to be perceived by impartial witnesses. But such
facts do not cause Bahnsen to pause and consider. He steamrolls right over them
as he races towards a cliff.
So Bahnsen not only fails to address these concerns, he does not show that he
is even prepared to consider them, perhaps because he never was concerned about
them himself. And no doubt, he most likely did not want his readers to be
concerned about such issues either, so he would be motivated to suppress them
even if they did occur to him in the privacy of his own thoughts. Let's face
it, most readers of Bahnsen's apologetics books would be looking to strengthen
their faith - i.e., to quell doubts rather than invite them. So the first thing
we can say here is that Bahnsen does not present a case for the
supernatural. If "the supernatural" is given no positive case on its
behalf by its own defenders, why would opponents need to assemble any case
against it? If there is nothing to recommend a position, why would we need to
bother refuting it? So long as Bahnsen fails to identify any means by which we
can acquire awareness of "the supernatural" (he only tells us how we
do not have awareness of it), and so long as he fails to produce a
serious, objective method by which we can distinguish what he calls "the
supernatural" and what he is merely imagining, then he has failed to
produce even the rudimentary beginnings of a case for the supernatural.
What else can we say? We can also point out that supernaturalism cannot survive
on a proper metaphysics. It is clear that supernaturalism assumes the primacy
of consciousness metaphysics, for it affirms the existence of a supernatural
consciousness which holds metaphysical primacy over any object distinct from
itself. But even to say that such a consciousness exists, we implicitly make
use of the opposite principle, namely that the objects of consciousness exist
independent of consciousness: they are what they are regardless of what we
know, think or imagine about them. Otherwise the proponent of supernaturalism
claims that the supernatural consciousness of his imagination exists
essentially because he wants it to. And any honest adult should be able
to recognize without a lot of deliberation that wishing does not make it so.
Already we can see that an insurmountable case against supernaturalism is at
our disposal.
In
spite of these points, which seem to have eluded Bahnsen’s finely tuned
intellectual powers of brilliance and precision, the master apologist
nonetheless sought to take on “the case against [the supernatural],” at least,
whichever “case” is most easily defused. When confronting non-religious
philosophers, Bahnsen prefers to go up against the lightweights, perhaps
because they were the only ones he bothered to read:
The most common philosophical reason advanced by
unbelievers, from Kant to the Logical Positivists of our century, for
antagonism to metaphysical claims is quite simply the allegation that
"pure reason" apart from sense experience cannot itself provide us
with factual knowledge. Metaphysical statements speak of a suprasensible
reality which is not directly experienced or verified by natural science; it
might be said quite baldly, then, that metaphysics is a kind of "news from
nowhere." Those antagonistic to metaphysics argue that all informative or
factual statements about the objective world must be derived empirically (based
on experience, observation, sensation), and therefore human knowledge cannot
transcend particular, physical experience or the appearance of the senses. (p.
184)
Bahnsen
acknowledges that a common criticism of supernaturalism is the lack of an
epistemological methodology which can take us from what we do know in the “here
and now” (i.e., by reference to the evidence of the senses) to the “suprasensible reality” that Bahnsen claims to know about.
We will find below that his response to this type of objection is to remove
such knowledge claims from the field of epistemology altogether, which is a
most fatal move if there ever were one. It is pointed out that we do not
perceive such a phenomenon, but the response to this is that we should not
expect to perceive it and accept claims about in spite of our inability to
perceive it. Bahnsen does not seem to be claiming that he possesses a mode of
perception beyond the five that we know human beings to possess. That is a wise
move, but it garners him no points. Regardless, as pointed out above, even if
man possessed 150 sense modalities, what would keep the Bahnsens
of the world from claiming the existence of something which could only be
perceived if we had a 151st sense modality, which, it is
acknowledged, we lack? Then as now, we would be told not to expect to perceive
whatever it is that we could not perceive, but that it is there nonetheless. At
any rate, Bahnsen is well aware that a major concern is how one could
“know” what it is he and other religionists are talking about when they speak
of “the supernatural,” and yet what does he provide to answer this concern?
Does he identify the means by which he is (allegedly) aware of what he
calls “the supernatural”? No, he does not. Instead, he seeks to undermine
reliance on the sense modalities that we do have, pronouncing them tainted or
even inadequate to begin with. But nowhere does he identify any kind of
alternative, and nowhere does he prove the existence of what he calls
“supernatural.” Again, he provides no positive case for “the supernatural.”
So
again, when Bahnsen affirms the existence of “a suprasensible
reality which is not directly experienced or verified by natural science,” he
merely identifies the means by which we do not know “the supernatural,”
but he resists indicating the means by which one could know “the
supernatural.” It is, as he confesses, “a kind of ‘news from nowhere’,” only
it’s not news at all. He gives us nothing by which we could distinguish this
“[good] news” from fantasy and fiction. That is because it is fantasy and
fiction. If there’s a difference between fact and fiction, then Bahnsen and
other advocates of “the supernatural” need to explain how we can acquire
knowledge of what they call “the supernatural” and distinguish it from mere
imagination. One does not even need explicitly to “argue that all informative
or factual statements about the objective world must be derived empirically
(based on experience, observation, sensation)” in order to recognize a
difference between fact and fiction. But if one does make the claim that
“informative and factual statements about the objective world” can be informed
without content originally gathered from the world by “experience, observation,
sensation,” he needs to identify an alternative to these. What alternative does
Bahnsen identify? That’s just the problem: he identifies no alternative.
Consider:
According to Kant, metaphysical discussions trade in
purely verbal definitions and their logical implications; hence they are
arbitrary, suspended in the sky, and result in irresolvable disagreements.
Metaphysical statements have no real significance. By nature, human knowledge
is dependent on the senses, and thus reasoning can never take one to
conclusions that apply outside
the empirical realm. (p. 184)
The
notion of “conclusions that apply outside the empirical realm” is a
rather vague way to identify something one wants to defend. It identifies a
contrast, but it does not necessarily imply objectivity. As I have pointed out
several times already, anyone can imagine something that exists “outside
the empirical realm.” But imagination is not an objective means of knowledge.
Apologists will have to do better than this if they want their religious views
taken seriously by rational thinkers.
“Logical Positivism”
We
have seen repeatedly throughout my analysis of Bahnsen’s “Problem of Knowing
the ‘Super-Natural’,” that he evades every opportunity to identify the means by
which one might acquire awareness of what he calls “supernatural,” and any
methodology for acquiring and validating knowledge from sources which allegedly
exist beyond the reach of man’s senses. To enable this grand evasion, Bahnsen
trains his sights on a soft target: the philosophy of Logical Positivism.
Logical
Positivism is sort of a halfway house for those who do not understand why faith
and reason, religion and science, mysticism and rationality are fundamentally
opposed and, frightened by their own pragmatist shadows, retreated to a
religious stunt-double under the guise of saving science. The Logical
Positivists in part rejected all talk of metaphysics because it had been taken
over by mystics and witch doctors. Consequently, having bought into the idea
that this was a necessary association, the Logical Positivists threw the baby
out along with the bath water. Not unlike Bahnsen himself, the Logical
Positivists did not understand the relationship between the perceptual and the
conceptual, thus supposing they were mutually opposed and irreconcilable,
pointing to mystical models as evidence of the problem. So
just as Kant
"found it necessary to deny knowledge, in order to make room for faith,"
the Logical Positivists found it necessary to sacrifice fundamental
philosophical principles in order to save science. But of course, this just
undercuts any effort they make to protect science.
Unwittingly,
this makes them an easy target for those who are desperate for even the
cheapest momentary psychological validation. Enter now Greg Bahnsen:
The Logical Positivists intensified Kant's criticism.
For them metaphysical claims were not simply empty definitions without
significance (without existential referents), they were quite literally meaningless. Because metaphysical claims
could not be brought to the critical test of sense experience, they were
concluded to be senseless. (p. 184)
Bahnsen
focuses on Logical Positivism’s rejection of supernaturalism because they
reject any metaphysical position (apparently even one which would support their
own epistemological defenses of science). So Bahnsen misses the point of
Logical Positivism's own weaknesses: according to Logical Positivism,
supernaturalism is meaningless – not because it violates
principles of rationality (even though it does) – but because any
generalized assessment of reality is ultimately meaningless. This was
more or less the result of the attitude which the Logical Positivists adopted:
[S]uch concepts as
metaphysics or existence or reality or thing or matter or mind are meaningless
– let the mystics care whether they exist or not, a scientist does not have to
know it; the task of theoretical science is the manipulation of symbols, and
scientists are the special elite whose symbols have the magic power of making
reality conform to their will. (For the New Intellectual, p. 34)
In
this way, Logical Positivism represents yet another variant of the mysticism
which its adherents were purportedly rejecting, since in the end it too reduces
to the primacy of consciousness, the foundation of any form of mysticism. Is it
any surprise that Bahnsen's response to Logical Positivism does not consist
in correcting its charge of meaninglessness by demonstrating the meaningfulness
of supernaturalism?
What
the Logical Positivists intensified was the concrete-boundness
of British empiricism, that is: sense-perception without recourse to concepts.
In this respect, Logical Positivism and Bahnsen’s presuppositionalism are
kissing cousins in that they both impale themselves on the same jagged point:
the lack of an objective theory of concepts, and consequently no understood
connection between perception and knowledge. So focusing on the Logical
Positivists is not going to be very productive if Bahnsen’s goal is to rebut
positions opposed to taking belief in "the supernatural" seriously.
The weaknesses of Logical Positivism offer presuppositionalism an opportune
occasion to come out appearing victorious.
In
spite of Bahnsen’s polemics, one should be able to isolate a common theme in
criticism of supernaturalism, even if it is only hinted at in the
counter-positions which Bahnsen attacks: an absence of credulity in
supernaturalism due to absence of any epistemological support for it. At this
point, one would think that, if Bahnsen could correct the record by identifying
in positive terms the means and methods by which one could acquire awareness of
“the supernatural,” objectively inform supernaturalist
terminology and claims with meaning that logically connects to something that
can be verified as real, and distinguish the content of those claims from mere
imagination, he would produce such a contraption. But he continually fails to
come through on this. Instead, he allows his belief in supernaturalism to
remain unsupported, shivering in the stark and barren wasteland of isolated
nonsense, and chooses to attack naysayers for simply
being persistent spoilsports, comforted by the fact that the opposing models
which he does examine are self-defeating and thus non-threatening.
Bahnsen
goes on, saying:
So then, opponents of metaphysics (and thereby of the
theology of the Bible) view metaphysical reasoning as conflicting with
empirical science as the one and only way to acquire knowledge. (p. 184)
Bahnsen
would have made a terrible poker player as he was so transparent when
attempting a bluff. If it were not so obvious that he has been package-dealing
supernaturalism with metaphysics up to this point, there should be no question
now, given his own parenthetical clarification. For the record, I am not an
“opponent of metaphysics” (my own worldview has a branch devoted to
metaphysics) and I would not say that (what I mean by) “metaphysical reasoning”
is “conflicting with empirical science,” for my worldview’s metaphysical
principles do not contradict the reality in which I exist, nor are they based
on the fake environment of supernaturalism, biblical or otherwise. Hence it is
important to clarify what Bahnsen really means when he uses the words
“metaphysics” and “metaphysical” in such instances; he really means
“supernatural” since he makes clear that what he has in mind is associated with
what the bible teaches. We’ve seen this over and over throughout Bahnsen’s
chapter on “Knowing the ‘Super-Natural’.”
So
we should restate Bahnsen’s statement to what he’s really trying to say:
So then, opponents of supernaturalism (and
thereby of the theology of the Bible) view supernatural reasoning as
conflicting with empirical science as the one and only way to acquire
knowledge.
The
meaningfulness of this version is much clearer as it does not need to be dug
out from underneath a haze of package-deals. And here is something we can agree
with: someone who is seeking to “reason” from premises which take
supernaturalism (such as that of the bible) seriously, will quickly expose his
position’s enmity with the empirical sciences, and this is because
supernaturalism contradicts the principle of objectivity. The rational
physicist will simply laugh at the supernaturalistic
idea that men can walk on unfrozen water (cf. Mk. 6:48-50), especially if for
“authority” the supernaturalist points to a
storybook; the viniculturalist will laugh at the supernaturalistic idea that water can be wished into wine
(cf. John 2:2-11); the biologist will simply laugh at the idea that a man will
rise from the dead three (or really only two) days after dying, or that corpses
will reanimate themselves and crawl out of their graves as described in Mt. 27,
etc. No, laughing is not an argument, but the arbitrary does not deserve
counter-arguments. Such reactions can be expected; should we really be
surprised when someone scoffs at the arbitrary? If we are, perhaps there’s
something wrong. But often there is something wrong, for many in science today
still have not recovered from the intellectual destruction of either
Christianity or Logical Positivism.
Many
popular philosophies leave the human mind vulnerable to the mystics’ attacks
often because they inherit or unwittingly borrow from mystics’ premises. The
presuppositionalist claim that many non-Christians have borrowed from
Christianity is sometimes more accurate than apologists realize; the communism
of the Soviets is a case in point. Irrationalism comes in many flavors, many of
them only apparently opposed to religion. In fact, however, many non-theistic
worldviews are merely secularized variants of overtly mystical worldviews. This
is one reason why it is so important to understand our need for an objective
starting point. If we begin by accepting any of the mystics’ false assumptions
about reality, only a variant of the mystics’ irrationality can result.
But
all of this underscores an insidious double standard on the theist’s part. If
scientists are expected to take one set of primitive folklore seriously, to be
consistent, they should not dismiss any claim, no matter how outlandish.
Biblicists will mind if their biblical doctrines are dismissed out of hand, but
they won’t mind if the animists’ doctrines are dismissed out of hand.
Similarly, Vedists will get upset if their sacred
Vedic passages are dismissed by scientists out of hand just as biblicists will. But so what? The discriminating scientist
will always be open to the charge of “bias!” from the backers of any arbitrary
worldview. But the tender emotions of those who feel slighted should not
concern him.
Bahnsen posits
an antithesis between the scientist and "the metaphysician" as
follows:
Whereas the scientist arrives at contingent truths
about the way things appear to our senses, the metaphysician aims at absolute
or necessary truths about the reality which somehow lies behind those
appearances. (p. 184)
There
is in fact a fundamental antithesis between the scientist on the one hand, and
someone espousing a supernaturalistic worldview like
Christianity on the other. But it's not as Bahnsen characterizes it here. The
scientist’s enterprise is reality-bound; his goals, methods and procedures are
developed and conducted in concert with the fact that there is a fundamental
distinction between fact and fantasy. The religionist, on the other hand, is
willing to ignore this fundamental distinction, for the overt teachings of his
worldview expressly require that fact and fantasy be blurred into an
indiscriminate whole, thus resulting in a fatal compromise to truthful
understanding.
The scientist studies actual things using an objective process (the scientific
method) to discover specific truths about those actual things, truths which he
recognizes as obtaining independent of anyone’s wishes, preferences, or
commandments. And while he may draw general conclusions from specific samples,
these conclusions do not go beyond the universe to indicate a supernatural
consciousness controlling everything. There is no reason why the scientist
should not be able to conduct his research and validate his findings in keeping
with the primacy of existence. In fact, it is only by adhering to the primacy
of existence would his results be of any value in the first place.
By
contrast, if Bahnsen’s “metaphysician" is ultimately guided by the primacy
of consciousness, he will of course find a way to rationalize his imagination
that a conscious force is what "somehow lies behind those
appearances." He then declares that his imagination consists of
"absolute or necessary truths" which, as a member counting himself
among "the chosen," he "knows" by "revelation."
Contrary to the scientist, the supernaturalist in
this case does not draw conclusions about "the supernatural" from
inputs he gathers from reality using an objective method. Instead, he is guided
by a storybook whose oral lore, mythical allegories, poetic indulgences and
mystical teachings serve as substitutes for objective inputs.
But
the antithesis between the scientific approach to the world and the religious
approach, as Bahnsen would characterize it, leads to what he will call “the
anti-metaphysical polemic,” when in actuality an informed scientist would not
at all reject an objective metaphysics – i.e., one which is not willing
to relent on the fact that there is a fundamental distinction between fact and
fantasy – but would recognize the fundamental importance of such metaphysical
underpinnings to the integrity of his vocation. On Bahnsen’s premises (in which the
distinction between fact and fantasy is fundamentally blurred):
A gulf is posited between the truths of empirical
fact (arrived at on the basis of information from the senses) and truths of
speculative reason (which could only be arbitrary verbal conventions or
organizing concepts that are inapplicable outside the sphere of experience).
(pp. 184-185)
If
what is taken as "truths of speculative reason" are in fact "arbitrary
verbal conventions," then of course we would posit that a "gulf"
exists between them and facts that are discovered on an empirical basis. But
there is no good reason to suppose that speculation (i.e., groping
guesses, frantic hunch-making, stabs in the dark, etc.) is the only alternative
to “empirical fact” (i.e., facts that are perceived directly), or that
empirical fact and speculation are inherently partnered, as if the one lead
naturally to the other. Reason is not a stab in the dark consisting of
“arbitrary verbal conventions.” In fact, concepts allow the human mind to
expand its awareness beyond the immediate perceptual level while preserving the
integrity of fundamental truths that are discovered on the basis of firsthand
discriminated awareness and performatively reaffirmed
in every act of awareness (such as the fact that there is a fundamental
distinction between fact and fantasy, that wishing does not make it so, etc.).
By
characterizing reason as “speculative,” however, Bahnsen shows how willing he
is to poison the well in order to salvage his supernaturalism. Who wants to
rely on a method which is at best “speculative”? This only tells us what
Bahnsen thinks of reason, and by extension the human mind, if he thinks reason
is inherently speculative. At the very least, it tells us that he does not have
a principled understanding of reason, and this is likely due to his worldview
being clouded by a commitment to affirming the contents of a storybook as
“divine revelation.” This should not surprise us, for his apologetic is not
aimed at increasing man’s understanding of the world and his own mind, but at
leaving him helpless and defenseless against the mysticism which his worldview
is bent on promulgating.
Bahnsen
thus presents “the anti-metaphysical polemic” as he understands it:
In that case, according to modern dogma, all
meaningful and informative statements about the world were judged to be
empirical in nature. The case against metaphysical claims, then, can be
summarized in this fashion:
1. there cannot be a non-empirical source of
knowledge or information about reality, and
2. it is illegitimate to draw inferences from what is
experienced by the senses to what must lie outside of experience.
In short, we can only know as factually significant
what we can experience directly with our senses - which nullifies the
meaningfulness of metaphysical claims and the possibility of metaphysical
knowledge. (p. 185)
Again,
by "metaphysical claims," I understand Bahnsen actually means claims
of a "supernatural" character. It should be clear that the two
affirmations which Bahnsen lists here in no way encapsulate the criticism of
supernaturalism that I have put forth. I have not stipulated that "there
cannot be a non-empirical source of knowledge or information about
reality," and I certainly do not hold that "it is illegitimate to
draw inferences from what is experienced by the senses to what must lie outside
of experience." Rather, my approach has been to a) isolate what Bahnsen
means by "supernatural," b) probe Bahnsen's case for any indication
of how we might distinguish what he calls "supernatural" from what he
may merely be imagining; c) ask how one can have awareness of what Bahnsen
calls "supernatural" (if not by perception, then how?); d) can claims
about "the supernatural" being real be reconciled with the primacy of
existence metaphysics (i.e., the foundation of truth), etc. Specifically, my
interest is in discovering what Bahnsen's case *for* "the
supernatural" may be.
In regards to the first statement that Bahnsen formulates to represent the case
against supernaturalism as he understands it, a couple points can be made that
are somewhat sympathetic to the epistemological concern it raises.
We
must bear in mind that knowledge is not something we have automatically, nor is
it produced automatically. We need to act in order to acquire and validate
knowledge, just as we need to act in order to achieve any goal. Our theory of
knowledge needs to be consistent with the nature of our consciousness, for
ignoring the nature of our consciousness will only undercut any theory of
knowledge we attempt to establish on such ignorance. And it is a fact that we
have senses and that we perceive objects because of the senses we possess. It
is by means of sense-perception that we are aware of things distinct from our
consciousness, and without awareness of something distinct from our
consciousness, it has no content by which it can be identified as being
conscious to begin with. “A consciousness conscious of nothing but itself is a
contradiction in terms: before it could identify itself as consciousness, it
had to be conscious of something.” (For the New Intellectual, p. 124) It
is undeniable that our awareness of reality begins at the perceptual level, and
in this sense the statement that “there cannot be a non-empirical source of
knowledge or information about reality” is in fact true.
The question which Bahnsen should be asking, but doesn't, is: What is the
relationship between perception and knowledge? On the presuppositional (indeed
the Christian) model, this is relationship never clear, most likely because it
would not be religiously expedient to have a principled understanding of this relationship.
In fact, it is the failure to understand the relationship between perception
and knowledge that presuppositionalism as an apologetic method seeks to exploit
in unwitting non-believers. But from what Bahnsen does say, it is clear enough
what he thinks: knowledge of reality does not depend on perception. His
followers might qualify this to say that "theological knowledge" (or
knowledge of "the supernatural") does not depend on or reduce to
perception. And if so-called "theological knowledge" is ultimately
informed by the imagination, this would certainly be the case.
But
is it really the case that metaphysical knowledge - that is, knowledge of the
nature of reality - is not dependent or related to perception? To claim this,
it may either be that a) what is claimed as "metaphysical knowledge"
is not actually knowledge, or b) the relationship between knowledge and
perception is simply not understood, and thus supposed not to be of any
epistemological importance. In the case of religious belief and the
presuppositional defense of it, both components play an important role.
Below
we will examine Bahnsen’s interaction with the premises of “the
anti-metaphysical polemic” that he listed above. For now, however, let us
propose the following alternatives those premises:
1. there cannot be a non-objective source of
knowledge or information about reality, and
2. it is illegitimate to draw inferences from what is
experienced by the senses to what contradicts experience.
Would
Bahnsen object to either of these premises if they imperiled his beloved
supernaturalism? Would he be willing to contend for a non-objective
source of knowledge about reality in order to save his theism? Would he
endorse a worldview which draws inferences from what is experienced
by the senses to what contradicts that experience? I suspect that Bahnsen would
in the end need to take issue with these premises, given his commitment to
Christian theism.
In
regard to (1), guarding our knowledge against incursions from any non-objective
source of knowledge would prevent subjectivity from creeping into our
worldview. At minimum, this would take care of any view which reduces to the
primacy of consciousness (such as the notion that reality was created by
consciousness and conforms to the dictates of a consciousness). It would also
checkmate the desire to manufacture one’s worldview on the basis of the content
of a storybook, especially if the content of that storybook affirmed views
which reduce to the primacy of consciousness (such as is the case with the
Christian bible). The principle of objectivity in fact serves as a fire-wall
protecting the human mind against any variant of mysticism. This principle
equips the human mind with what it needs to distinguish between fact and
fiction, reality and imagination, knowledge and fabrication.
Moreover,
recognizing that it is illegitimate to draw inferences from what we experience
firsthand by means of sense-perception to conclusions which contradict what we
experience, would equip the discriminating mind with the ability to filter out
many arbitrary claims at the outset, thus allowing a thinker to devote his
attention to things that are of actual value to his life. For instance, if he
reads that dead corpses which had been buried in graves suddenly reanimated and
rose out of those graves (cf. Matt. 27:52-53), he would – armed with the
principle described in (2) above – recognize that this is fiction and
entertainment, for his experience consistently indicates that the dead remain
dead, and corpses do not reanimate in their graves and rise out of them.
The
Christian worldview, however, stands on an explicit rejection of such
principles. It cannot survive for a moment on principles which explicitly
exclude the contaminants of subjectivism and contradiction. It can only get
away with rejection of such principles by deceptively obscuring the nature of
the human mind and reducing it to a subhuman level – to the level of a
terrified stock animal that is “always ready” for slaughter, “always ready” to
prostrate itself, not in order to live, but in order not to die.
“Double Standards and Begging the Question”
Bahnsen
begins this section of chapter 31 of his book Always Ready by
interacting with the second premise that he attributes to the case against supernaturalism.
That premise is:
it is illegitimate to draw inferences from what is
experienced by the senses to what must lie outside of experience. (p. 185)
Bahnsen
probes this statement with a series of questions:
We should first ask why it is that metaphysicians
(and theologians) should not reason from what is known in sense experience to
something lying beyond sensation. After all, isn't this precisely what
empirical scientists do from day to day? They continually reason from the seen
to the unseen (e.g., talking of subatomic particles, computing gravitational
forces, warning against radiation simply on the basis of its effects,
prescribing medicine for an unseen infection on the basis of an observed fever,
etc.) It certainly appears capricious for those with anti-metaphysical leanings
to prohibit the theologian from doing what is allowed to the scientist! Such an
inconsistency betrays a mind that has been made up in advance against certain
kinds of conclusions about reality. (p. 185)
So,
is Bahnsen saying that we reason from an empirical source? Indeed, we do
just this. But one does not need to be a metaphysician or theologian to be able
to do this. Ordinary mortals do this all the time. What makes this possible?
Bahnsen wants to argue that his god makes this possible. But in fact, the
ability to conceptualize is what makes this possible. One will never learn this
point from Bahnsen, for his desire to assimilate the human intellect into the
context of his god-beliefs will only cloud the matter rather than pave the way
for clear understanding.
The
ability to form concepts allows the human mind to create open-ended classes of
entities, attributes, actions, etc., which include not only those qualifying
entities, attributes, actions, etc. which we perceive, but also those which we
do not perceive. The concept 'cat', for instance, includes the cat we are
looking at in the neighbor's yard, as well as cats that we saw in another
neighborhood, cats that lived 100 years ago, cats that will live in the future,
etc. The membership of individual cats within the range of reference of the
concept 'cat' is not restricted to some specific number; the concept 'cat' does
not "expire" after it's been used to denote 10, 100 or 5,000 specific
cats. On the contrary, the concept is open-ended, and there is no quantitative
limit to the units which can be included in it. What specifically makes it
possible for the human mind to continue integrating new units into the concept
‘cat’ is the operation known as measurement-omission.
Measurement-omission is the principle which guides conceptual integration: “the
relevant measurements must exist in some quantity, but may exist in any
quantity.” (ITOE, p. 12) With simple principles such as this, which are
accessible to any thinker, there’s no reason to posit an invisible magic being
to understand how the mind operates when it “reason[s] from what is known in
sense experience to something lying beyond sensation.”
Note
that the cats which we do not see but include in the concept 'cat' are just as finite
and this-worldly as the cats which we do see. There is no reason
to suppose that the cats which we do not see and yet include in the scope of
reference of the concept 'cat' cannot be seen at some point in time by someone,
even ourselves, unless of course they no longer exist or will not exist during
our lifetimes. But even then, the units included in the concept are still just
as non-supernatural, non-otherworldly, non-miraculous as the ones we have
actually perceived, for the ones we have actually serve as the model for the
concept in the first place. So while concepts do in fact serve as
our cognitive means by which to reason from what we do see to
what we do not see, we don't leave the universe by performing this process, and
what we reason to is just as non-supernatural as that from which we originally
reasoned.
But
is this really what Bahnsen is proposing that theologians are doing when they
assert the existence of “the supernatural”? If theologians who assert “the
supernatural” are simply drawing conclusions pertaining to what is not seen
from what they do see, what are the steps in their reasoning process which lead
to such conclusions? Scientists can identify the steps they take in developing
their conclusions, so why doesn’t Bahnsen identify the steps that the
theologian takes in concluding that “the supernatural” is real?
Bahnsen
seems to be setting up a subtle false dichotomy: either one affirms that it is
completely illegitimate to reason “from the seen to the unseen,” or – if we grant
that this is impossible – then supernatural claims are perfectly legitimate.
But he gives us no reason to suppose that both positions are wrong. Why not
entertain the objective alternative which Bahnsen ignores: that we do in fact
reason from what is given in perception to what lies beyond perception, and yet
the units which lie beyond perception that we integrate into the sum of our
knowledge are just as natural and this-worldly as the units which we perceived
and which we used as models for the integration process in the first place.
Bahnsen
wants to make it all appear so innocent (and yet, Bahnsen himself has warned us
that there is a distinction between appearance and reality) by pretending that
what theologians do is essentially no different from “what empirical scientists
do from day to day.” And yet he conspicuously ignores the fact that his scheme
requires us to drop the principle of objectivity from the context of the
reasoning process he's trying to assimilate into his defense of supernaturalism.
Moreover, he does not show how the process of reasoning to the supernatural
from what is seen is at all similar to the process of integrating unperceived
but still completely natural and this-worldly units into concepts formed on the
basis of perceived models.
Thinkers
of all professions – not just those involved in the special sciences – do in
fact reason from what they perceive firsthand to things that they do not
perceive or have not yet perceived. But there is nothing inherent in this
process which requires that what is concluded from such reasoning cannot be
perceived at some point. The cats about which I draw general conclusions from a
small sample, for instance, are just as non-supernatural as the cats which I
perceive and which make up my sample.
For
instance, I have been to many, many cities in my lifetime. I have seen them
firsthand, walked their streets, eaten at their cafes, gone to board meetings
in their tall buildings, strolled in their parks, etc. Every city I have seen
has had trees. I have never been to
But
Bahnsen wants to make sure that we allow at the very least the ability to
reason from what is perceived to that which is imperceptible. That’s because
his invisible magic being is held to be imperceptible. That is why he
specifically names examples which are imperceptible (e.g., subatomic particles,
gravitational forces, and the like). But does Bahnsen explain how one can
reason from what is perceived to that which is not perceived? No he does not. Does
he explain how conceptualization makes this possible? No, he does not. If he
did, he’d have to show how this process could be executed and validate his
god-belief claims at the same time. Bahnsen nowhere comes close to doing this.
I suspect that his defenders will probably say that his book was intended for
an untutored audience, meaning: he hadn’t intended on tutoring them. But this
is a roundabout way of admitting that he in fact did not explain these things.
So such defenses are unhelpful.
Bahnsen
then writes:
Everybody should be expected to play by the same
rules. (p. 185)
But
does Bahnsen truly want “to play by the same rules” as non-believers? If
anything, one gets the impression that he emphatically does not. Bahnsen
clearly wants to reserve for himself the option of appealing to “revelation” as
a defense for his claims. This is simply a variant of the invisible magic being
defense: if you cannot establish your position on the basis of facts which are
accessible to anyone who reasonably investigates the matter, claim that your
position has is certified by an invisible magic being who makes it so. This
assessment of Bahnsen’s apologetic is no stretch, not even in the least.
In
his
opening statement when he debated Gordon Stein, one of Bahnsen’s chief
points was that “the existence, factuality, or reality of different kinds of
things is not established or disconfirmed in the same way in every case.”
Apparently some claims should be established by means of reason, but other
claims are exempt from this requirement. Bahnsen found it important to
segregate his god-belief claims epistemologically from other types of claims,
insisting that we should not expect his god-belief claims to be verified in the
same manner as we might verify other claims, particularly claims having to do
with things that exist in the universe (i.e., things which are not
believed to “surpass the limits of nature”). Of course, if “the supernatural”
were really imaginary, we would not expect the methods we use to verify truths
in the actual world to be sufficient when it comes to verifying claims about
“the supernatural.” So such reservations are not surprising.
To
illustrate his point, Bahnsen employed his famous “crackers in the pantry”
example, which achieves its aim by trivializing the methods we use to verify
claims in “the ‘here-and-now’.” His
point was that one cannot expect to verify the claim that the Christian god
exists in the same manner as we verify the claim that there are crackers in the
pantry. The existence of the crackers in the pantry can be verified by simply
going over to the pantry and checking to see if the crackers are there. If we
see the crackers in the pantry, then we can be sure that the claim that the
crackers are in the pantry is true.
But,
according to Bahnsen, the existence of the Christian god cannot be verified in
such a manner. Okay. How then can it be verified? He implies that the existence
of his god can in fact be verified by the same mind that can verify whether or
not there are crackers in the pantry. But this is where Bahnsen led the
audience on a wild goose chase, never elucidating any methodology by which we
can verify such claims. Throughout the debate, one of Bahnsen’s primary aims
was to shield his god-belief claims from criticism (his other aim was to
discredit non-belief in Christian supernaturalism), and in the present context
he sought to do so by pointing to other things whose existence is not verified
in the same way we verify whether or not there are crackers in the pantry, such
as: “barometric pressure, quasars, gravitational attraction, elasticity,
radioactivity, natural laws, names, grammar, numbers, the university itself
(that you’re now at), past events, categories, future contingencies, laws of
thought, political obligations, individual identity over time, causation,
memories, dreams or even love or beauty.” What Bahnsen ignores is the fact that
all these examples are of things that can be verified and understood by means
of reason. In fact, we use reason when we check to see if the crackers
are in the pantry just as we do when we measure barometric pressure, search for
the existence of quasars, test gravitational attraction, etc. Reason is the
common denominator for exploring all these inquiries. But reason does not help
us when investigating the alleged existence of “the supernatural,” and
Bahnsen’s own appeals to “revelation” confirm this. Since Bahnsen does not show
how reason can be used to verify his god-belief claims, and numerous statements
of his verify that the existence of his god cannot be known by means of
autonomous inference from what we perceive (in fact, he says, this knowledge
needs to be “revealed” to us), then it does in fact look like Bahnsen wants to
reserve for himself a different set of game rules, in spite of his statement to
the opposite effect.
Could
it be that the method by which Bahnsen has “knowledge” of “the supernatural” is
just too sophisticated to explain? It would appear not. Instead of going and
looking on the shelf, as we might do if we’re in doubt about there being any
crackers in the pantry, Bahnsen’s method for “knowing the supernatural” seems
to be nothing more than consulting a storybook to settle questions about the
existence of his god. Christians might object to this characterization, saying
that it is just as geared toward trivializing Bahnsen’s methodology of
confirming his god-belief claims as his crackers-in-the-pantry example
trivializes methodologies used to verify claims in “the ‘here-and-now’.” But
again we must ask: what exactly is the methodology that Bahnsen proposes for
investigating claims about “the supernatural”? If Bahnsen never presents any
methodology for investigating such claims, how can we be accused of
trivializing it? And if Bahnsen does have a methodology which for one reason or
another prefers to keep close to his chest, how exactly does it differ from
taking what the bible says at face value on its own say so? Here we just get
another massive blank-out.
But
notice what Bahnsen says next:
Moreover, it is important to notice that (2) above is
not really relevant to making a case against biblical metaphysics.
Christianity does not view its metaphysical (theological, supernatural) claims
as unguided or arbitrary attempts to reason from the seen world to the unseen
world - unwarranted projections from nature to what lies beyond it. In the
first place, the Christian claims that God created this world to reflect His
glory and to be a constant testimony to Him and His character. God also created
man as His own image, determined the way in which man would think and learn
about the world, and coordinated man's mind and the objective world so that man
would unavoidably know the supernatural Creator through the conduit of the
created realm. (pp. 185-186)
Bahnsen
needs to make his position on this matter clear instead of clouding it with the
murkiness of statements like this. He needs to come clean on this: Does man
(according to Bahnsen’s view) infer the reality of “the supernatural” from what
he perceives in the world around him, or not? If Bahnsen thinks so, then what
are the steps in that inferential process? How does one infer the existence of
“the supernatural” (i.e., that which “surpasses the limits of nature”) from the
natural? As I ask in my blog Is Human Experience Evidence of the Christian God?
How does that which is
natural, material, finite and corruptible serve as evidence of that which is
supernatural, immaterial, infinite and incorruptible? In other words, how does
A serve as evidence of non-A?
Or,
How does something serve
as evidence of that which completely contradicts it?
On
the other hand, if Bahnsen does not think we infer the reality of “the
supernatural” from what we perceive in the world around us, then he admits that
such beliefs cannot be rational, for they have nothing to do with reason. Bahnsen
cannot have it both ways. Indeed, he will have to play by the same rules. If he
cannot establish his claims on the basis of reason, he needs to admit this, and
with that he will concede all debate.
Now
those who confuse their imagination with reality and give special names to
their confusion (e.g., “the supernatural”) will always be able to concoct
explanations for how they come into possession of what they call “knowledge.”
By accepting one arbitrary premise, especially in a position of hierarchical
importance in one’s overall understanding of the world (cf. Bahnsen’s “ultimate
presuppositions”), the believer shows his willingness to compromise his
rational faculties and thus opens the door to any other arbitrary notions that
he will need to support the original. Essentially, he uses a fabrication to
cover up another fabrication. The common currency here is pretense in the guise
of profound philosophical truth. But in doing so he outlines a worldview that
is completely incompatible with what we learn from the world. We learn from the
world, for instance, that we possess a volitional consciousness, but here
Bahnsen tells us that an invisible magic being has “determined the way in which
man would think and learn about the world.” According to this view, we are
merely puppets manipulated by strings dangling from a magic kingdom, or
characters in a cartoon
universe executing an elaborately contrived script.
The
commitment to the primacy of consciousness here is difficult to miss. This
deity – a supernatural consciousness – “coordinated man’s mind and the
objective world so that man would unavoidably know the supernatural Creator
through the conduit of the created realm.” On this view, both the subject
(“man’s mind”) and the object (“the objective world”) conform to the wishful
dictates of the supernatural consciousness, whose will holds metaphysical
primacy over both. The subjectivism of such a view is echoed by Van Til: “the
world of objects was made in order that the subject of knowledge, namely man,
should interpret it under God... The subject and the object are therefore
adapted to one another.” (The Defense of the Faith, 3rd ed.,
p. 43) According to such a view both man (even as a subject himself) and the
world about him, are objects of the consciousness of the supernatural deity,
and they
conform precisely to its intentions.
This
view suggests more than that knowledge of “the supernatural” is not the
conclusion of a rational process, but that man is completely infallible so long
as his “conclusions” (which are “unavoidably know[n]” and not derived from any
rational process to begin with) agree with the content of the storybook (and so
long as those conclusions conform to the prescribed interpretation of that
storybook), but wholly fallible in any other use of his intellect. If man’s
mind and the world he beholds were “created” such that they are both “adapted
to one another” by a perfect creator which can never err, then it seems that
infallibility in theological assertions is exactly what is being claimed.
Bahnsen
continues:
God Himself intended and made it unavoidable that man
would learn about the Creator from the world around him. This amounts to God
coming to man through the temporal and empirical order, not man groping toward
God. This amounts to saying that the natural world is not in itself random and
without a clue as to its ultimate meaning, leaving man to arbitrary speculation
and metaphysical projections. (p. 186)
While
Bahnsen wants to characterize the alleged “unavoidability” of this knowledge of
“the supernatural” as the cause behind the world’s non-randomness, the view he
presents here renders epistemology completely futile. For it puts man’s mind in
a completely passive role when it comes to his acquisition of knowledge. Since
it holds that the “knowledge” that the Christian god exists is “unavoidable”
and this same god “com[es] to man through the
temporal and empirical order,” man’s mind can remain completely idle and still
possess this alleged knowledge. So Bahnsen is in effect coming full circle in
divorcing knowledge from the operation of man’s mind, which is confined to
“groping” were it not for a supernatural deity rescuing it from its own devices
and helplessness.
It
is at this point that Bahnsen introduces the dichotomy between “arbitrary
speculation” and “divine revelation,” a commonplace assumption in Christian
apologetics. This dichotomy is integral to the religious view that man’s mind
is epistemologically helpless, and Bahnsen is in no way the only one who has
tried to exploit it. Rick Warren, author of The Purpose Driven Life,
makes it quite explicit:
How, then, do you discover the purpose you were
created for? You have only two options. Your first option is speculation.
This is what most people choose. They conjecture, they guess, they theorize
... Fortunately, there is an
alternative to speculation about the meaning and purpose of life. It's revelation.
We can turn to what God has revealed about life in his Word. (pp. 19-20)
Reacting
to this, Mister Swig accurately encapsulates its apologetic use:
Either you guess at the truth like a hardcore
skeptic, never knowing whether you're right, or you look at the Bible and
accept its make-believe answer on faith. Given only these two options—and not
the explicit alternative of reason, logic, and the scientific method—why would
anyone choose mere speculation? (Rick Warren:
Master Assimilator for the Christian Collective)
The
reason why Christians want to characterize the discovery of one’s purpose in
life as a matter of speculation vs. revelation, is to frontload a set of
assumptions which will be recruited to discredit any purpose one might decide
for himself that does not subordinate him to the will of an invisible magic
being, specifically the Christian deity. If, for instance, a thinker recognizes
that his purpose is to live and enjoy his life – a purpose which religionists
want to discourage at any cost – then any reasoning he cites in support of this
purpose can be discounted as the product of mere “speculation.” The message
here is quite clear: don’t try to think for yourself, let the church elders do
it for you, and abide by whatever pronouncements for your life that they might
issue. Which means: you are not to live for your own sake, you are to sacrifice
your life to whatever end the religionists decide for it.
Embedded
within all this is the question of whether or not the world is “random.”
Bahnsen wants to use the concept ‘random’ as if it denoted a metaphysical
attribute, when in fact it describes an epistemological vantage. If the law of
identity obtains throughout the universe (the apologist is free to argue that
it does not), then “randomness” could only indicate a lack of knowledge on the
part of any knower as to the causes of what he discovers or encounters. For
instance, it may be a random incident that my coworker and I both show up to
the water fountain with empty cups in hand at the same moment, but this would
not entail that there is no causality behind our mutual meeting. If A is A, and
A is what it is independent of conscious functions (e.g., beliefs,
misunderstandings, wishes, emotions, etc.), then not only can we affirm that
the universe is not random, we can affirm it on an explicitly non-theistic
basis, that is: on the basis of the primacy of existence metaphysics.
Of
course, I am a man, but no god has come to me “through the temporal and
empirical order.” Only other men have, and men can be misinformed or dishonest
(and even both). Many in the world are prone to making all kinds of outlandish
claims. Would Bahnsen have me discard all discriminating awareness and simply
accept whatever the first passer-by might claim? Perhaps this depends on who
that first passer-by might be and what he might claim. If he claims what
Bahnsen claims, then the answer would be yes: consider it true, even if you
don’t at first believe it, and apply his scheme of apologetics to make sure
what is claimed is in the end believed. If the first passer-by happens to be a
Muslim, a Buddhist, a Scientologist, or even a rational man, don’t trust
anything he says, for he does not number among “the chosen.”
Sensing
that what he has presented is still not sufficient to shield his position from
scrutiny, Bahnsen ups the ante by invoking the doctrine that man is inherently
sinful:
Moreover, given the intellectually corrupting effects
of man's fall into sin and rebellion again God, man's mind has not been left to
know God on the basis of man's own unaided experience and interpretation of the
world. God has undertaken to make Himself known to man by means of verbal
revelation - using words (chosen by God) which are exactly appropriate for the
mind of man (created by God) to come to correct conclusions about His Creator,
Judge and Redeemer. (p. 186)
Bahnsen’s
tactic here is less than sophomoric. He’s essentially saying: “If you deny that
my invisible magic being, then you’re morally worthless!” Which is essentially
to say: “If you defy my authority, then you’re a disgrace!” That is what the appeal to sin is all
about: it’s a last ditch effort to discredit anyone and everyone who does not
believe what the Christian claims by exploiting any self-doubt or lack of
self-esteem as an indication of the presence of this magical contaminant called
“sin.” The doctrine of “sin” allows the Christian apologist to cover his resort
to childish slander with something that seems seriously important: man’s moral
nature. And yet, the doctrine of “sin” itself only demonstrates how out of
touch Christianity as a worldview is with a rational understanding of morality.
One of the ways Christianity’s own teachings succeed in nullifying morality as
such, is by its underlying doctrine of collective guilt: all men are guilty by
virtue of one man’s transgressions. Men “inherit” a “fallen nature” – and with
it an innate “rebelliousness” against the Christian god – as a result of the
“sin” of one man whom none of us living today ever met and whose existence
cannot be objectively corroborated; all we have is a storybook, told in
campfire fashion, that this man allegedly existed in some unspecified era of
the distant past. You can’t be good by your own choices and actions, so why
try? After all, morality on Christianity’s own view is primarily about being
“good” (at least in the eyes of an imaginary being), not about how to govern
your choices and actions in order to live. Your choices and actions, like your
life, are of no concern in the eternal scheme of things, so they shouldn’t
concern you in your life to begin with.
Even Bahnsen’s own statements confirm the accuracy of this analysis, for he
admits that this presumption of “man’s fall into sin” is not something he can
discover by means of reasoning from the world that he experiences firsthand.
According to the Christian view, this “presupposition” is based in “verbal
revelation,” which is essentially nothing other than indiscriminately believing
what one reads in the storybooks of the bible. Observe:
Christian theology is not the result of a
self-sufficient exploration of, and argument from man's unaided and brute
empirical experience, to a god lying beyond and behind experience. Rather the
Christian affirms, on the basis of Scripture's declaration, that our
theological tenets rest on the self-revelation
of the transcendent Creator. Theology does not work from man to God, but from
God to man (via infallible, verbal revelation; cf. 2 Peter 1:21). (p. 186)
So
while above Bahnsen wanted to take thinkers to task for supposing we cannot
reason from the seen to the unseen (because surely we do this all the time) as
a premise in the case against supernaturalism, he’s now saying that this is not
how one arrives as religious truths in the first place! Is Bahnsen coming, or
going? It’s hard to tell, principally because the position he wants to defend
requires a lot of shape-shifting on its defenders’ part. Recall that in the
previous section, Bahnsen declared that “the metaphysician aims at absolute or
necessary truths about the reality which somehow lies behind those
appearances.” (Always Ready, p. 184) He may “aim” at such “truths,” but
simply aiming for them does not validate them or make them truthful. So the
question remains: How does he know? What epistemological procedure does
he undertake to secure these “absolute or necessary truths about the reality
which somehow lies behind those appearances”? Again, Bahnsen resorts to the
claim of revelation, and he also characterizes the human mind as
epistemologically passive as it is supposed to idly receive revelatory
transmissions from “the supernatural.” Thus Bahnsen appeals to the supernatural
in order to validate the supernatural, which is terminally circular. If this
method is “valid” for Bahnsen’s purposes, why wouldn’t it be valid for any
rival position? For instance, what would stop someone who wanted to validate The
Wizard of Oz from validating the claim that The Wizard of Oz is true
by appealing to what The Wizard of Oz says? The conclusion is
inescapable: Bahnsen has no epistemological warrant for his claims
whatsoever, for he identifies no epistemological process by which his belief in
supernaturalism can be validated.
From
all of this, however, Bahnsen wants to draw the following conclusion:
Therefore, the anti-metaphysical polemic - already
seen to be arbitrary and inconsistent - begs the main question. If God as
portrayed in the Bible does indeed exist, then there is no reason to preclude
the possibility that man who lives in the realm of "nature" can gain
a knowledge of the "supernatural." (p. 186)
In
spite of the fact that Bahnsen’s defense is terminally circular, as we have
seen, he can’t wait to accuse non-believing positions of begging the question
themselves. This is not uncommon at all: presuppositionalists seem to delight
in posturing as if non-belief in the supernatural somehow stood on a wobbly
foundation full of fallacy and error. But does it really? Bahnsen’s focus is on
dismissing efforts which “preclude the possibility that man... can gain a
knowledge of the ‘supernatural’,” but fails to explain why anyone’s worldview
should include claims about “the supernatural” as valid knowledge. Even
Bahnsen’s own hypothetical “If God... does indeed exist” is intellectually
shortsighted. If such a being existed, then all bets are off when it comes to
assessing anything proposed as a possibility, no matter how absurd it might
seem. If such a being exists, anything would be possible, both the theist’s
proposals as well as any atheist’s. That’s because the very notion of a god
presupposes the primacy of consciousness, and on such an assumption nothing
could be written off as either an absurdity or an impossibility. What about
corpses rising from their graves and walking around in cities a la Matthew
27:52-53? This is perfectly possible, on the assumption that an invisible magic
being is running the universe like a cartoon. Same with the idea of a pack of
acid-breathing canines typing out dissertations on Goldratt’s
Theory of Constraints on the surface of Venus. If a mere human being could
imagine these things, how could one say it’s not possible for the being which
allegedly created man in the first place to be able to make what a human being
imagines real? Can man’s imagination range beyond the abilities of the
Christian god? What card-carrying Christian would admit to this?
But
such “what if?” appeals are not helpful to Bahnsen. What if men were actually
water-breathing lilies that grew in the silts of the Ayeyarwady delta? Well, we’re not, so why treat such questions
as if they were important?
At
this point, Bahnsen can only assert his position and treat it as a given:
God created and controls all things, according to the
Biblical account. Given that perspective, God could certainly bring it about
that man learns the truth about Him through both the created order and a set of
divinely inspired messages. (p. 186)
In
such a way, Bahnsen demonstrates how affirming one arbitrary claim and treating
it as centrally important (cf. “presupposition”), allows one to argue any
arbitrary claim he wants, since he’s already granted legitimacy to the
arbitrary. A little leaven, leaveneth the whole lump.
If we grant one absurdity, on what basis could we rule out any other absurdity?
Blank out.
This
in turn gives Bahnsen the license to speak for “the unbeliever”:
When the unbeliever contends that nothing in man's
temporal, limited, natural experience can provide knowledge of the metaphysical
or supernatural, he is simply taking a roundabout way of saying that the
Biblical account of a God who makes Himself clearly known in the created order
and Scripture is mistaken. (pp. 186-187)
I
suppose that, no matter how solid a case the non-believer presents on behalf of
his position that supernaturalism is irrational, the apologist will always be
able to dismiss it as “a roundabout way” of saying the bible is mistaken. If
the apologist has no arguments for his position, such maneuvers might be
psychologically palliative, though only momentarily. But since Bahnsen prefers
to philosophize on the basis of “what if?” scenarios, let’s ask one of our own:
what if “the unbeliever” gives the apologist ample opportunity to
a) identify the means by which one can have awareness
of “the supernatural,”
b) explain how supernatural claims can be verified in
a manner consistent with the nature of consciousness which man actually
possesses,
c) provide a reliable method by which “the
supernatural” can be distinguished from what the believer may merely be
imagining, and
d) credibly explain how “revelation” is not
essentially the same as believing something one reads in a storybook,
and
it turns out that the apologist fails to deliver on all four points? What then?
If Bahnsen is so certain that “the Biblical account of a God who makes Himself
clearly known in the created order” is not mistaken, why doesn’t he explain how
such claims can be substantiated on the basis of the primacy of existence,
which we know is true and fundamental, instead of just avoiding this and these
other issues repeatedly, even when he sets out to write a chapter purportedly
intended to deal with “The Problem of Knowing the ‘Super-Natural’”? If this god
has made itself “clearly known” to men, why do disagreements about the identity
of this god and its accompanying theology persist so stubbornly among those who
number themselves among “the chosen,” just as we would expect them to do if in
the end their theology were seated in the imagination of its adherents?
But
Bahnsen insists that his position’s detractors must be committing some fallacy
in their rejection of supernaturalism:
This begging of the question is sometimes veiled from
the unbeliever by his tendency to recast the nature of theological truth as
man-centered and rooted initially in human, empirical experience. However, the
very point in contention between the believer and unbeliever comes down to the
claim that Christian teaching is rooted in God's self-disclosure of the truth
as found in the world around us and in the written word. (p. 187)
Let
us make one thing clear: one is not “begging the question” when he rejects
subjective, irrational or arbitrary claims. If a man claims that Blarko, an invisible conscious being which exists beyond
the universe, created the universe by making a wish, designing all its
structures and contents according to its wise “counsel” such that everything
“reflects” its infallible mind and unquestionable plan, and he offers no
objective method by which we can independently discover the existence of this Blarko and verify the truth of his claim, on what basis
should we accept that claim as knowledge? Suppose we point out that, like
Bahnsen, this man fails to explain how such knowledge can be possible, but
instead focuses on supposed problems in rival positions which reject belief in Blarko. Would this gain any ground for his case? Of course
not; problems in a rival position are not going to substantiate such claims.
And
notice how Bahnsen’s own position is guilty of the very fallacy he charges the
non-believer with committing: begging the question. Bahnsen makes it clear that
he must appeal to the supernatural in order to validate his supernaturalism. He
refers to “the truth in the world around us and in the written word” of the
bible as “God’s self-disclosure,” but nowhere does he explain how man could know
this, even if it were in fact true. Simply reading something in a storybook is
not sufficient to accept it as truth. Moreover, if what we read in the
storybook would require us to ignore fundamental facts which we do know in
order to believe what it says, why would we believe it? Time and time again,
apologists fail to factor the nature of man’s cognition and its needs into his
defenses, and that is because man’s cognition and its needs are of no concern
to his religious doctrines. What is important to the believer is believing, not
understanding. So we should not expect understanding to be the goal of their
apologetic program. Bahnsen confirms this assessment with statements such as
the following:
There is no reason to think that theology would be
intellectually required to be built upon the foundation of human sense
experience, unless someone were presupposing in advance that all knowledge must
ultimately derive from empirical procedures. But that is the very question at
hand. (p. 187)
By
“empirical procedures,” I understand Bahnsen means sense perception. Again, he
does not want his readers to think that sense perception is our primary means
of awareness and, consequently, the base of our knowledge. He says that this is
“the very question at hand,” namely whether or not “all knowledge must
ultimately derive from empirical procedures.” Would Bahnsen say that some
knowledge is derived from an absence of consciousness? If not, then he needs to
identify some alternative to “empirical procedures” (i.e., sense perception) as
the base from which knowledge can be derived. If “that is the very question at
hand,” why doesn’t he address this point?
Instead, Bahnsen prefers to dwell on soft targets:
The anti-metaphysical polemic is not a supporting
reason for rejecting Christianity; it is simply a rewording of that rejection
itself. (p. 187)
It
may be the case that “the anti-metaphysical polemic... is simply a rewording of
that rejection itself,” but what if “the anti-metaphysical polemic” that
Bahnsen has described is not the basis upon which one rejects Christianity?
What if instead the non-believer has adopted what may be called the
anti-irrational polemic, the anti-subjective polemic, or the anti-arbitrary
polemic? I tend to prefer calling it the anti-mystical position. It is
anti-mystical because it is first pro-reason, pro-rationality, pro-reality
and pro-man. As such, this anti-mystical position is broader than merely a
rejection of Christianity; it involves a total decontamination of the human
intellect of any irrational, subjective or arbitrary worldview influence,
Christianity being merely one of the many views filtered out as a result of an
uncompromising commitment to rationality. This is consistent with the two
alternative positions which earlier I had proposed in lieu of the Logical
Positivism that Bahnsen shadow-boxed:
1. there cannot be a non-objective source of
knowledge or information about reality, and
2. it is illegitimate to draw inferences from what is
experienced by the senses to what contradicts experience.
Let
the apologist come out of the closet to argue for a non-objective source of
knowledge about reality. Let him claim legitimacy to drawing inferences from
experience to what contradicts it. Let him defend the willingness to blur the
distinction between fact and fiction, reality and imagination, truth and
arbitrariness, for this is the substance of his faith.
“Philosophical Self-deception”
Bahnsen
opens this section of the chapter “The Problem of Knowing the ‘Super-Natural’,
the 31st chapter of his book Always Ready, by referencing a
position that he characterizes as “the first and foundational step in the case
against metaphysics” – by which he really means, “the case against supernaturalism.”
Recall what that “first and foundational step in the case against metaphysics”
– according to Bahnsen – was:
There cannot be a non-empirical source of knowledge
or information about reality (Always Ready, p. 185)
In
response to his own rendition of what “anti-supernaturalists”
hold, Bahnsen asks:
What are we to make of the assertion that "all
significant knowledge about the objective world is empirical in nature"?
The most obvious and philosophically significant reply would that if the
preceding statement were true, then - on the basis of its claim - we could never know that it were true. Why? Simply
because the statement in question is not
itself known as the result of empirical testing and experience.
Therefore, according to its own strict standards, the statement could not
amount to significant knowledge about the objective world. It simply reflects
the subjective (perhaps meaningless!) bias of the one who pronounces it. Hence
the anti-metaphysician [i.e., anti-supernaturalist]
not only has his own preconceived conclusions (presuppositions), but it turns
out that he cannot live according to them (cf. Romans 2:1). On the basis of his
own assumptions he refutes himself
(cf. 2 Timothy 2:25). As Paul put it about those who suppress the truth of God
in unrighteousness: "They became futile in their speculations"
(Romans 1:21)! (p. 187)
Did
anyone besides me notice the switch here? In the above paragraph Bahnsen
announces that he is turning his focus on “number (1) above,” which he states
here as follows:
All significant knowledge about the objective world
is empirical in nature. (Always Ready, p. 185)
But
earlier, when he first listed point (1), it was stated as follows:
There cannot be a non-empirical source of knowledge
or information about reality (Always Ready, p. 187)
There
is a fundamental difference between the two statements that Bahnsen sets before
himself. One version speaks of the nature of knowledge itself, while the
other version makes a statement about the nature of the source of
knowledge about reality. The two are not the same thing. At some point Bahnsen
swapped the one for the other, but he does not explain why. Perhaps, in spite
of his acclaimed precision and brilliance, Bahnsen did not notice the switch,
or did not think it was worth explaining.
In
regard to the affirmation that “all significant knowledge about the objective
world is empirical in nature,” Bahnsen misses his opportunity to point out the
most obvious error committed by such a statement. Knowledge itself is not
“empirical” in nature. On the contrary, knowledge is conceptual in
nature. That is, knowledge consists of concepts and concepts are the form
in which we retain our knowledge. That Bahnsen missed this painfully obvious
opportunity to correct such a statement, is itself indicative of his own
position’s inadequacy to deal with much of anything philosophical, especially
epistemology. This correction is enough to put all of the concerns that Bahnsen
raises in the above paragraph to rest. For instance, if knowledge is conceptual
in nature, there is no reason to suppose that “we could never know” this
to be the case. For there is no reason to suppose that we could not form
concepts to identify the nature of knowledge. All we need is an understanding
of how concepts are formed, and we have this understanding thanks to an
objective philosophy. And while Bahnsen might point out that the claim that all
knowledge is empirical in nature is not itself open to “empirical testing,”
such difficulties need not concern us if knowledge is in fact conceptual in
nature. This recognition is itself conceptual, thus qualifying as knowledge on
its own terms. Furthermore, if the concepts which informs one’s knowledge of
the world were formed according to the objective theory of concepts (a theory
which we will not find in the bible), then we need not worry that such
knowledge “simply reflects the subjective (perhaps meaningless!) bias of the
one who pronounces it.” If they are formed according to an objective process,
one which is fully consistent with the primacy of existence, then the conceptual
products of our methodology have an objective, rather than subjective, basis.
Meanwhile, by identifying the nature of knowledge as conceptual rather than
empirical, the non-believer can confidently plead innocent to Bahnsen’s charge
that the anti-supernaturalist cannot live according
to his own worldview’s premises. For by understanding and acknowledging that
knowledge is conceptual in nature, the non-believer nowhere “refutes himself,”
nor is there any need to suppose that such recognition commits thinkers to
“become futile in their speculations.” The bible’s canned platitudes and
denunciations thus resound in the hollow vacuum of its own anti-conceptual
wasteland.
Now
in regard to the affirmation that “there cannot be a non-empirical source
of knowledge or information about reality,” this is an altogether different
claim, for it speaks about the nature of the source of knowledge rather
than the nature of knowledge as such. Unfortunately Bahnsen nowhere
addresses it. His comments aimed at discrediting the idea that the nature of knowledge
is empirical do nothing to refute the position that the nature of the source
of knowledge is empirical in nature. Indeed, there is no incompatibility
between the position that the nature of knowledge itself is conceptual
on the one hand, and on the other
the position that the source of knowledge is in fact ultimately
empirical in nature.
Concepts
need content to inform them. Where do we get that content? To what do our concepts
refer? What do our concepts denote? How do we form our concepts? We do not know
how Bahnsen’s worldview might answer such questions, for the source of
Bahnsen’s worldview is the bible, and the bible does not provide a theory of
concepts. Indeed, the bible is totally silent on the issue of what concepts
are, how the mind forms them and how they can represent things in reality.
But
an objective worldview which is not constrained to conforming its understanding
of reality to ancient storybooks, does not promote such intellectual
disability. In fact, an objective worldview which provides a working theory of
concepts has the power of opening an individual’s mind both to itself and to
the universe in which he lives, giving the understanding he needs to maximize
his mind’s abilities and efficacy in his life. An objective theory of concepts
recognizes why man needs concepts (for they bring the universe of things and
facts into the range of human consciousness) and how they are formed (by a
process of abstraction). It also identifies the source from which the content
of our concepts ultimately comes, namely empirical experience.
We
need inputs from reality to inform our concepts with content that is relevant
to reality. Otherwise, if what informs our concepts does not come from reality,
on what basis would we say that those concepts have anything to do with our
living in reality? How could we say that any statement we make is true if the
conceptual constituents of our affirmations do not ultimately refer to things
in reality? Perception supplies us with the inputs we need to inform and
integrate the concepts we need to identify and live in reality. If Bahnsen does
not like this idea, he needs to identify and argue for an alternative to
perception as the mode of awareness by which we acquire the inputs we need to
give our concepts the content they need to qualify as knowledge of reality. As
we have seen throughout his chapter, however, Bahnsen does not identify any
alternatives to perception as means of awareness of things that exist. And when
he claims that supernatural things do exist, he presents no method by which we
can confidently distinguish the things he calls “supernatural” from what he may
merely be imagining. Consequently, he gives us no reason to suppose that his
god-belief is anything other than an elaborate fantasy.
An
objection to the effect that the view that the source of knowledge is
empirical would cripple our ability to arrive at universal truths about things
in nature, would of course be a non sequitur. If concepts are understood as
open-ended classes which are formed on the basis of the limited input provided
by sense perception, then there is no reason to suppose that man’s mind cannot
arrive at universal truths by beginning with an empirical source. The nature of
the product is not – and need not be – the same as its source, because the
units given in perception undergo a process of abstraction, which consists
essentially of four steps: isolation, integration, measurement-omission and definition.
Universality is a property of concepts; it is nothing more than the
open-endedness of a concept’s scope of reference vis-à-vis the units subsumed
by it.
We
form the concept ‘ball’ on the basis of just a few (two or more) units which we
perceive in our firsthand experience, but the concept ‘ball’ includes all
balls which exist now, which have existed in the past and which will exist in
the future. This all-inclusive capacity of concepts is made possible by the
third step in the process of forming them, namely measurement-omission. This is
the step which acknowledges that specific units possess relevant attributes in some
measure, but those attributes can exist in any measure. A ball can be 2
inches in diameter or it can be 10 inches in diameter; it may be red, or it may
be black and white; it may be inflated with air such that it floats on water,
or it may be solid and more dense than water such that it does not float, etc.
The concept is thus universal, i.e., open-ended in its scope of reference.
It
should be noted at this point, to preempt common presuppositionalist refrains,
that propositions are not primaries. On the contrary, propositions are
assemblages consisting of concepts put together in a coherent manner. As such,
propositions represent a further step in the process of integration beyond
concept-formation, for they integrate two or more concepts into a meaningful
whole, resulting in a unit all its own and denoting a complete thought. But the
universality of a generalized proposition (e.g., “all balls have a radius and a
diameter”) is derived from the universality of its constituent concept(s).
Since we can form the concept ‘ball’ on the basis of just a few units of which
we acquire awareness through perception, and since the concept ‘ball’, as a
result of measurement-omission, is universal in its scope of reference, a
proposition such as “all balls have a radius and a diameter” which encompasses
all balls is possible because of the universality already available to us in
the concept ‘ball’.
None
of these points on behalf of the view that knowledge is conceptual in nature
necessitates belief in a god or necessitates a leap beyond the natural to
“whatever surpasses the limits of nature.” Indeed, the formation of concepts
and their assembly into larger units (e.g., thoughts, propositions, theories,
etc.) are natural processes of the human mind. They are consistently
identifiable according to a process which most thinkers should be able to
understand without too much difficulty, and they are open to a means of testing
which is in fact scientific. There is no contradiction in affirming that
knowledge is conceptual in nature and that the source of knowledge is
perceptual (or empirical) in nature. The objective theory of concepts bridges
the perceptual and the conceptual levels of cognition, thus demystifying the
process whose disunderstanding is so central to the
presuppositionalist strategy.
“Further Difficulties”
Bahnsen
then raises a most curious concern:
There are other difficulties with the position
expressed by (1) as well. We can easily see that it amounts to a presupposition
for the unbeliever. What rational basis or evidence is there for the position
that all knowledge must be empirical in nature? That is not a conclusion
supported by other reasoning, and the premise does not admit of empirical
verification since it deals with what is universally or necessarily the case
(not a historical or contingent truth). Moreover, the statement itself
precludes any other type of verification or support other than empirical
warrants or evidence. Thus the anti-metaphysical opponent of the Christian
faith holds to this dogma in a presuppositional fashion - as something which
controls inquiry, rather than being the result of inquiry. (pp. 187-188)
We
have already seen that the presumption that knowledge must be “empirical” in
nature is a mistake which can be easily corrected. And correcting this mistake
does not in any way compel us to affirm or appeal to supernaturalism.
But Bahnsen wants to ask those who affirm that knowledge is empirical in
nature, what rational basis they might have for supposing this. It may simply
be that they do not know of a better way to express what they sense to be the
case about the knowledge they have acquired. But if Bahnsen wants to know what
rational basis one has for his suppositions, he should at the very least tell
his readers what rational basis he might have for supposing that Christianity’s
claims about “the supernatural” are true. Unfortunately, Bahnsen does not indicate
any rational basis that his supernatural beliefs might have. In fact, he has
only told us how his supernatural beliefs are not supported. For
instance, their “support is not limited to natural observation and
scientific experimentation.” They “do not stem from direct, eyeball
experience of the physical world.” “They are not verified empirically in
a point by point fashion.” “Empirical experience” must not be
sufficient, for it “merely gives us an appearance of things,” and “the Bible
distinguishes appearances from reality,” so there is obviously a conflict
between how things “appear” to us and what they “really are.” Indeed, Bahnsen
does not even explain what he means by “rational basis,” and yet he
wants to know what “rational basis” others have for their claims, even though
when he has an opportunity to identify any “rational basis” for his
supernaturalism, he reneges on it. The consequence of this for Bahnsen is,
obviously, if he has a problem with others not providing a “rational basis” for
their position, he is quite simply a hypocrite for holding that against them.
Bahnsen
wants to reserve the right to raise questions about what “rational basis” his
adversaries might claim for their own positions, but when it comes time for him
to defend his claim to “knowing the ‘super-natural’,” he's content to leave
such concerns completely unattended. So when Bahnsen says that "everybody
should be expected to play by the same rules" (p. 185), that holds only
some of the time.
Bahnsen
elaborates on the problem with empiricism as he understands it:
However that anti-metaphysical presupposition has
certain devastating results. Notice that if all knowledge must be empirical in
nature, then the uniformity of nature cannot be known to be true. And without
the knowledge and assurance that the future will be like the past (e.g., if
salt dissolved in water on Wednesday, it will do likewise and not explode in
water on Friday) we could not draw empirical generalizations and projections -
in which case the whole enterprise of natural science would immediately be
undermined. (p. 188)
So
what is missing? Does Bahnsen think that this problem is somehow overcome by
belief in "the supernatural"? Would believing in "the
supernatural" somehow make it sensible to assume that nature is uniform
with itself? How would this follow? Bahnsen likes to raise problems, but
doesn't explain how we can resolve them.
Let
us entertain Bahnsen's supposition that "if all knowledge must be
empirical in nature, then the uniformity of nature cannot be known to be
true." Unfortunately, Bahnsen nowhere explains why this would be the case.
Moreover, Bahnsen does not correct the error in the assumption that "all
knowledge must be empirical in nature" by pointing out the fact that
knowledge is actually conceptual in nature. Why doesn't he do this? I
suspect there are two factors involved here: 1) Bahnsen does not understand
that knowledge is conceptual in nature because he does not have a conceptual
understanding of knowledge (and this in turn is due to the fact that the
biblical worldview has no native theory of concepts); and 2) a conceptual
understanding of knowledge would actually undermine the presuppositional
apologetic, since presuppositionalism is geared toward exploiting
Christianity's lack of an understanding of concepts in order to attack the
human mind. In fact, had Bahnsen understood the nature of his mind and of
knowledge before he became a Christian, he probably would never have become a
Christian in the first place.
Also
noteworthy is the fact that Bahnsen raises against non-Christians the very
concern non-Christians could easily (and rightfully) raise against
Christianity, given its commitment to metaphysical
subjectivism, its lack of a viable conceptual theory and its moral
proscriptions against autonomous judgment.
If
I truly believed that the universe in which I exist were a creation of an
invisible supernatural being which had the power to manipulate at any time or
any place any object which exists in this universe, including myself, how
would I know that salt would dissolve in water on one day, and not explode in
water on other days? Bahnsen's mentor Cornelius Van Til tells us that the
Christian god
may at any time take one fact and set it into a
new relation to created law. That is, there is no inherent reason in the facts
or laws themselves why this should not be done. It is this sort of conception
of the relation of facts and laws, of the temporal one and many, imbedded as it
is in the idea of God in which we profess to believe, that we need in order to
make room for miracles. And miracles are at the heart of the Christian
position. (The Defense of the Faith, p. 27)
On
this “presupposition,” the ruling consciousness ("God") could decide
that, on Wednesday, it is a fact that salt dissolves in water, and on Friday,
it is a fact that salt explodes in water. It can do this, according to Van Til,
because "there is no inherent reason in the facts or laws themselves why
this should not be done." It is simply setting the fact of how salt
responds to water "into a new relation to created law," which it can
do at will, and without advance notice or approval of the church elders. If one
were to believe that such a thing as Van Til's god were real and active in the
universe, where's this "assurance that the future will be like the
past" that Bahnsen speaks of? If I truly believed that facts could be
altered by the will of an invisible supernatural consciousness, how I could
acquire the foreknowledge that it would or would not manipulate some object in
my experience or some state of affairs in my life? How could I know that salt
always dissolves in water? What if the ruling consciousness planned that later
today salt will cease dissolving in water, and turn into rubber trees when it
comes into contact with water? Surely the Christian believes that his god has
the ability to do this. So what tells the believer that it won't do this or
something else that is as absurd? What if the ruling consciousness is having a
bad day, prone to wrath as the bible says it is? What if it's in a bad mood,
and decides to send a tornado, earthquake, hurricane, or tsunami? Or, perhaps
it decides to whip reality around such that utterly unpredictable chaos ensues?
On Christianity's premises, we are to accept that such things are possible on
the basis of the will of an invisible supernatural consciousness. But
Christianity's defenders seem oblivious of the implications such views have for
epistemology, which is utterly ironic given their characterization of rival
positions.
Suppose
I assumed what Christianity says is true, that there is an invisible
supernatural being which can alter the facts of the universe at will. Even if I
deluded myself into thinking I could forecast events before they happen, such
as salt dissolving in water, my bus coming on schedule, or the sun warming
the day, I do not know how I could acquire any degree of confidence in my
forecasts, for my mind is not a supernatural mind, nor does my mind have the
power to read the mind of any invisible supernatural consciousness (I cannot
"think the thoughts" of an omniscient, infallible being after it, and
I'm simply too honest to pretend that I can). In essence, all inductive
generalizations and projections would be worthless. Some might perchance come
true, but not because my inductive inferences were cogent. Only because my
conclusions happened to coincide with the present wishes of the ruling
consciousness would they seem to be true. Epistemology would thus be
reduced to a crapshoot. But even here, “true” is a contextual assessment,
and there would be no context corresponding to what actually happens available
to me, for I would be unable to assume that the present is a reliable indicator
of the future. If Christianity were true, as Van Til indicates, there would be
no necessary relationship between an entity and its own actions, just as there
would be "no inherent reason" why the ruling consciousness could not
"at any time take one fact and set it into a new relation to
created law." My "knowledge" would ultimately boil down to
chance occasions of just so happening to get things right. And yet, this is the
very same weakness that Bahnsen wants to charge against non-believing
worldviews. Bahnsen thus hangs himself with his own rope.
“No Predictability”
Bahnsen
is desperate to sneak his religious position into the basis of scientific
research:
Scientists could not arrive at even one dependable,
rationally warranted conclusion about future chemical interactions, the
rotation of the earth, the stability of a bridge, the medicinal effects of a
drug, or anything else. Each and every premise that entered into their
reasoning about a particular situation at a particular time and in a particular
place would need to be individually confirmed in an empirical fashion. (p. 188)
Did
Bahnsen truly think that one needs to believe in “the supernatural” in order to
come to conclusions about “future chemical reactions, the rotation of the
earth, the stability of a bridge,” etc.? What exactly does “the supernatural”
have to do with these things, and why couldn’t one formulate conclusions about
these things without believing in some supernatural being? As we have seen
repeatedly throughout Bahnsen’s treatment of “the problem of knowing the
‘super-natural’,” he has given us no reason to suppose there is anything beyond
his own imagining that actually “surpasses the limits of nature,” and the items
he list here are not things which “surpass the limits of nature” anyway.
Drawing conclusions about chemical reactions, the earth’s rotation, the
structural integrity of construction projects, etc., is possible only if we
remain within the bounds of natural law. Venturing beyond them and into the
realm of imagination only produces fiction, and fiction is not truth. In fact,
as I pointed out early on in my examination, trying to push these things
“beyond the limits of nature” may very well result in disaster.
What
Bahnsen should be concerned about here is how general knowledge of the natural
can be formulated on the basis of a limited range of perceptual inputs. Indeed,
the examples he mentions here are all within the realm of the natural anyway,
so why is this not his concern? Exploring how we formulate general knowledge of
the natural on the basis of perceptual input is altogether different from
supposing that we can conclude that there are things that exist “beyond the
physical realm” by observing things in the physical realm. What we have
here is an insidious package-deal: by acknowledging the conceptual nature of
generalized knowledge, we’re supposed to accept with that a magical realm that
exists “beyond sense experience” but which is just as concrete and
non-conceptual (and non-imaginary) as the things we perceive in the world, only
they “surpass the limits of nature” and are capable of all kinds of wondrous
feats in the physical realm (which of course we never get to observe). But here
we are talking of two completely different animals. Concepts are not concretes;
they are the form in which a mind retains its knowledge. They are not “things”
that exist in some other dimension. They represent the activity of a
mind, not entities which inhabit another world “beyond the physical realm.” The
“supernatural” entities that Bahnsen has in mind are not themselves supposed to
be conceptual in nature. The mind forms concepts, but Bahnsen is not going to
allow that his “supernatural” realm and the beings which allegedly populate it
are formed by the mind. No, he wants to suppose that they exist independent of
human mental activity, unlike concepts. But it’s clear that he’s trying to use
his own misunderstanding of the conceptual as a front-door, if you will, to the
supernatural. Bahnsen thus gives us a textbook case of how errors can grow like
weeds when they go unchecked.
This
is truly getting to the heart of the presuppositionalist’s confusion. It is
based on a most superficial half-truth that is subsequently distorted far
beyond recognition. He observes that there is a difference between the physical
concretes that we perceive in the world about us and the form in which he
conceptualizes those concretes. It is true that there is a distinction between
the objects we perceive and the manner in which we integrate those objects into
conceptual wholes, just as there is a distinction between subject and object.
And there is much to discover and learn about how the mind does this. But the
presuppositionalist distorts this distinction beyond recognition and then tries
to exploit it as evidence of the existence of the “supernatural” things he has
enshrined in his imagination.
Like other human beings, scientists can extrapolate from the relatively few
units they perceive in the world and formulate wide-ranging principles which
apply to units which they have not perceived and which they will never
perceive. The presuppositionalist interprets this as reasoning from “the seen”
to “the unseen,” which seems plausible on the face of it, but he does so in the
most superficial manner possible, not understanding the mental operation which
is responsible for this. In essence, the presuppositionalist wants to use the
scientist's "reasoning from the seen to the unseen" to lend
credibility to the idea of "knowing the supernatural" by putting both
on the same level. After all, the scientist can have knowledge
of things that he does not perceive, so why can't the religious believer
have knowledge of "the supernatural"? Not being able to perceive
something does not prohibit the scientist from having knowledge of that
something, so why should the religious believer be held to a standard that is
more stringent than that enjoyed by the scientist? This is roughly the kind of
reasoning that the apologist seems to be using. Says the presuppositionalist,
the science reasons from the seen to the unseen, and does so all the time. To
say then that we cannot reason from the seen physical universe to the unseen
realm of the supernatural, is special pleading, according to Bahnsen. It
doesn’t matter to the presuppositionalist that “the unseen” things about which
the scientist forms his theories or draws his conclusions, are just as finite,
natural and this-worldly as the things he does see.
More fundamentally, however, this kind of reasoning will seem most plausible in
direct proportion to one's ignorance of the way the mind forms concepts. In
fact, not only does this type of reasoning itself stem from a failure to
understand how the mind functions conceptually, it also seeks to feed off the
ignorance of any potential convert. The whole move from “the seen” to “the
unseen” here is not a conceptual operation for Bahnsen, but a leap from the
actual world to the world of imagination. Only he prefers not to acknowledge it
as such. But the denial of the conceptual operation of the human mind is hard
to miss once the nature of that operation is understood.
As
if he were anticipating any doubts in my analysis, Bahnsen goes on to make it
clear that the assumptions underlying his assessment of the "anti-supernaturalist" mindset include the denial of the
capacity for concepts:
Nothing experienced in the past could become a basis
for expectations about how things might happen at present or in the future.
Without certain beliefs about the nature of reality and history - beliefs which
are supra-empirical in character - the process of empirical learning and
reasoning would become impossible. (p. 188)
Keep in mind that the scientist does not pretend to move from knowledge of
things that exist in the universe to knowledge of things that allegedly exist
in a realm which contradicts it. He does not move from things existing in
nature to knowledge of things which are claimed to “surpass the limits of nature.”
Rather, like other human beings do everyday, he moves from direct awareness of
specific, natural things to generalizations pertaining to the classes to which
those specific, natural things exist. The classifications are generalized by
virtue of their omission of specific measurements; the classifications include
a broad range of specific measurements, but given the fact that to exist is to
be specific, any specific thing included in those classifications would itself
possess its attributes in specific measure.
This
is supported by a network of core constants which are found at the basis of
rational (and therefore non-theistic) thought. If existence exists independent
of consciousness (the primacy of existence), to be something is to have a
nature which obtains independent of consciousness (the law of identity), and
the action of an entity is dependent upon its identity (the law of causality),
then there is a constant metaphysical basis for general classifications
regardless and independent of temporal constraints (for temporal measurement
itself would need to assume and consist of general classifications). So things
happening in uniform manner from past to present and into the future is not
metaphysically problematic.
Also, if man has the ability to form concepts on the basis of perceptual
inputs, then he has the elementary epistemological prerequisites for forming
general classifications on the basis of limited inputs. The ability to do this
is not itself dependent on what a person believes; he has this ability
by virtue of his nature as a human being, not because he believes in invisible
magic beings. His ability did not come into being as a result of assenting to
some ideational content (he'd have to have the ability in question to do this
intelligently in the first place), and likewise he does not lose this ability
by believing some content, or disbelieving or failing to believe some content
(though taking irrational beliefs seriously will undermine the efficacy of this
ability). To suppose that merely believing something will turn this ability on
would commit the fallacy of the stolen concept, as should be readily apparent.
The distinction between past and present can only be made on the basis of
certain constants (the primacy of existence, the law of identity, the law of
causality), and these constants obtain regardless of what we believe. It is the
task of philosophy to identify these constants (as opposed to installing
them in reality as if they didn’t already exist), and their relationship to the
process by which knowledge is acquired and validated.
But watch as Bahnsen digs himself even deeper into his own intellectual pit:
At this point we can press even harder, arguing that if one presupposes that
all knowledge must be empirical in nature, then not only has he undermined
science and refuted himself, but he has actually scuttled all argumentation and
reasoning. To engage in the evaluation of arguments is to recognize and utilize
propositions, criteria, logical relations and rules, etc. However, such things
as these (propositions, relations, rules) are not empirical entities which can
be discovered by one of the five senses. (p. 188)
This statement not only confirms my analysis above (namely that the
presuppositionalist is trying to dignify his supernatural claims by likening
them to the scientist's reasoning from "the seen" to "the
unseen"), but also the need for an objective approach to knowledge which
Bahnsen's worldview specifically (and conspicuously) lacks and could not
support. The apologetic scheme that Bahnsen deploys here might work well
against those who affirm that "all knowledge must be empirical in
nature." But it won't work against the Objectivist model, for Objectivism
recognizes that knowledge is conceptual in nature. Bahnsen himself
indicates just how feeble his own apologetic tactic is against Objectivism when
he points out that "to engage in evaluation of arguments is to recognize
and utilize propositions, criteria, logical relations and rules, etc."
This is the realm of concepts, and Christianity's lack of a native theory of
concepts only proves its utter insufficiency on the very issues which Bahnsen
raises.
Bahnsen further elaborates what he wants his readers to suppose is the case of
all non-Christians:
Accordingly, according to the dogma of empiricism, it
would not make sense to speak of such things - not make sense, for instance, to
speak of validity and invalidity in an argument, nor even to talk about
premises and conclusions. All you would have would be one contingent
electro-chemical event in the physical brain of a scholar followed contingently
by another. (p. 189)
But
it does make sense to speak, for instance, of validity and invalidity in an
argument, or talk about premises and conclusions, if we have concepts. In fact,
concepts not only allow us to speak of issues regarding validity of argument,
but also of electro-chemical reactions in the brain. (Without explanation,
Bahnsen says “the physical brain” as if he had to specify it in contrast to a
“non-physical brain.) And yet, it is specifically a theory of concepts which
Bahnsen lacks in his bible-based worldview. So ironically, he is accusing
non-believers of something he himself cannot produce: an account of human
reason.
If these events are thought to follow a pattern, we
must (again) note that on empirical grounds, one does not have a warrant for
speaking of such a "pattern"; only particular events are experienced
or observed. (p. 189)
He
has warrant if he can form concepts from empirical inputs, and every man (save
perhaps for utter and complete imbeciles) has this ability to some degree.
Concepts are how a thinker integrates “particular events [that] are experienced
or observed” firsthand into general classes which imply like events that he has
not experience or observed, whether hypothetical or actual.
Moreover, even if there were a pattern within the
electro-chemical events of one's brain, it would be accidental and not a matter
of attending to the rules of logic. Indeed, the "rules of logic" would
at best be personal imperatives expressed as the subjective preference of one
person to another. In such a case there is no point to argument and reasoning
at all. An electro-chemical event in the brain cannot meaningfully be said to
be "valid" or "invalid." (p. 189)
Although
electro-chemical reactions are a reality in the human nervous system, they are
not a substitute for epistemology. In spite of this, Bahnsen wants to suppose
(and wants his readers to suppose) that this is the consistent testimony of
every non-believer, not because he has witnessed every non-believer confess it
(that would be too principled for Bahnsen), but because it is apologetically
expedient to do so.
As
for “personal imperatives expressed as the subjective preference of one person
to another,” this bears striking resemblance to the supernatural,
commandment-issuing deity enshrined in Christianity. Again, having fashioned a
noose after his own image, Bahnsen decisively thrusts his own worldview’s head
right into it. Indeed, when Bahnsen’s god issues its commandments, does Bahnsen
argue with his god about them? Is there any place for argument in Bahnsen’s
worldview when his god has issued commandments? Commandments are given to
settle matters without any back-talk or haggling. So just how does one reason
with someone who thinks he’s always right? Did Abraham try to reason with his
god when he was commanded to prepare his son for sacrifice? The Genesis story
surely does not model this.
Incidentally,
the reason why “an electro-chemical event in the brain cannot meaningfully be
said to be ‘valid’ or ‘invalid’,” is not because “the supernatural” is real,
but because concepts of validity apply to conceptual methodology, and
electro-chemical events are not a conceptual methodology. Had Bahnsen
understood this in full, he would have seen the philosophical futility of this
application of his apologetic.
“Naturalism versus Supernaturalism as Worldviews”
A
common tactic throughout Bahnsen's apologetic is to focus the spotlight of his
(and his readers') attention on the purported failings of
"unbelievers" who remain anonymous and thus by implication include
virtually any non-Christian that a believer may encounter. By dwelling on
purported failings of non-believing worldviews, Bahnsen is safe to ignore the
issues surrounding his claims that I have highlighted throughout my analysis of
his chapter on "The Problem of Knowing the 'Super-Natural'."
Concentrating on what other worldviews do or don't do puts these issues
securely out of mind. The intention here should be obvious: to direct the
thinker's attention away from the questionable nature of religious claims while
putting those who do not accept those claims on the defensive. It's nothing
more than an attempt to shift the burden of proof. This is why Bahnsen devotes
so much of his chapter on raking over failings of certain philosophies and
happily leaves the reader free to assume that those failings are endemic to any
non-believing worldview by virtue of its non-belief. In this sense, Bahnsen's
captivation with what "anti-metaphysicians" may be guilty of
endorsing serves as an effective red herring, dragging the reader off the trail
which Bahnsen should be following (in order to explain how one can have
knowledge of what Christianity calls “the supernatural”) and onto something
irrelevant (e.g., Logical Positivism contradicts itself) to the task at hand.
This
embedded fallacy is key to the presuppositionalist strategy of framing the
debate as a clash of opposing worldviews. If debate concerning the existence of
a god reduces to a conflict between two rival philosophies, and it is
implicitly accepted that the two philosophies involved in that clash are
jointly exhaustive (i.e., the only two possible), and the philosophy opposing
the Christian worldview is exposed to suffer certain fatal internal problems,
then – so goes the reasoning – Christianity wins by default. Such a strategy
will of course be satisfactory to those who are confessionally
committed to the Christian faith (i.e., to the hope that it is true),
but it is hard to see how such a scheme could be deemed intellectually
responsible.
We
see this kind of reasoning in action when Bahnsen opens the final section of
“The Problem of Knowing the ‘Super-Natural’,” the 31st chapter of
his book Always Ready with the following statement:
Enough has now been said to make it clear what kind
of situation we have when an unbeliever argues against the Christian's claim to
knowledge about the "super-natural" - when the unbeliever takes an
anti-metaphysical stand against the faith. (p. 189)
So
while earlier Bahnsen focused on the failings of Logical Positivism, he now
conflates Logical Positivism with non-belief as such by intimating that
non-belief entails a rejection of metaphysics (even non-supernaturalist
metaphysics). This is most naïve. One does not need to reject the philosophical
branch of metaphysics in order to recognize the irrationality of god-belief,
Christian or otherwise. Bahnsen acts as if he’s felled all non-believing
worldviews by toppling one. Not only is this deceptive, it does not address any
of the questions which have been raised on the topic of “knowing the
‘super-natural’.” Meanwhile, Bahnsen’s hoping that everyone’s looking the other
way. Here’s one who isn’t.
Bahnsen
claims:
The believer holds, on the basis of infallible
revelation from the transcendent Creator, certain things about unseen reality
(e.g., the existence of God, providence, life after death, etc.). (p. 189)
Bahnsen
still does not address the fundamental question here, namely: how did the
believer acquire awareness of this “revelation”? Again we come back to the
“problem of knowing the ‘Super-Natural’,” which Bahnsen seems unable to
address. Did the believer not learn it from the bible? If so, this would have required
him to use his senses. Reading a book is hardly a supernatural event. This
would mean that the source of “revelation” is actually material in
nature: a book consisting of paper pulp and synthetic jacket material, produced
by human effort and distributed by a vendor, often for financial profit. This
is essentially what constitutes “divine revelation” for the Christian.
Ironically, the believer’s own sense perception is plays an inextricable role
in his acquisition of knowledge of the Christian god’s “revelation” if reading
the bible is how he acquired awareness of it.
But
this suggests that “revelation” for the Christian believer is nothing more than
simply believing whatever he reads in a storybook. Indeed, it even suggests that
“revelation” consists of assuming that whatever the bible says is true, even
before one has read all of it. This is not uncommon among Christians, who
consider it a virtue to believe religious pronouncements on the basis of faith.
Not only does such an attitude not require the existence of a god to explain it
(for it is an attitude that any parent can foster in his philosophically
defenseless children, for instance), it also goes against certain statements by
Bahnsen’s own mentor, Cornelius Van Til. For instance, in his book A Survey
of Christian Epistemology, Van Til wrote:
Who wishes to make such a simple
blunder in elementary logic, as to say that we believe something to be true
because it is in the Bible? (p. 12)
Here Van Til clearly indicates that it “a simple
blunder in elementary logic” to suppose that something is true simply “because it is in the Bible.” What
implications does this statement have for the notion of “revelation,” whereby
“revelation” ultimately signifies believing whatever is written in the bible?
Nowhere does Bahnsen seem to deal with this problem, and in the meanwhile he
still fails to explain how one can “know” what he calls “the supernatural.”
Regarding
this, Bahnsen affirms that
Knowledge of such matters is not problematic within
the worldview of the Christian (Always Ready, p. 189)
And
we can see why. For as we saw above, if the believer grants one arbitrary
premise, why not grant others? And if simply believing what is written in the
bible constitutes “revelation” of the Christian god, then of course it would be
easy to ignore epistemological questions (as Bahnsen does), since there really
is no epistemology here: all one needs to be able to do is read and be willing
to regard whatever he reads in the bible as unquestionable truth. Questions
about the means and range of human awareness, the relationship between the
conceptual level and the perceptual level of consciousness, the distinction
between “the supernatural” and what is merely imaginary, are of no concern
here. These matters can be safely swept under the rug so that nobody has to
consider them, for indulgence in fantasy has replaced any concern one might
develop for the way human cognition operates.
Notice
how everything up to this point has served to prepare Bahnsen for an appeal to
the supernatural to justify belief in the supernatural, which is viciously
circular. In spite of this “simple blunder in elementary logic,” Bahnsen
writes:
God knows all things, having created everything
according to His own wise counsel and determining the individual natures of
each thing; further He created man as His own image, capable of thinking His
thoughts after Him on the basis of revelation, both general (in nature) and
special (in Scripture). (p. 189)
Encapsulated
within this statement, we have what can be validly called the summary
description of an epistemology of pretended vicariousness. It consists of
justifying a claim to knowledge that is not rationally defensible by inventing
an all-knowing deity which, on account of its all-knowingness, would know what
the believer claims to know. As such, it serves as a substitute for
justification, one which is supposed to be superior to any that the believer
himself could ever provide of his own (which would immediately be dismissed as
a product of “autonomous reasoning” if it were presented by a non-believer).
Now frankly, anyone can do this. It just requires a willingness to fake
reality, not only to others, but to oneself (for as Bahnsen demonstrates, the
proponents of such vicariousness take it seriously). Appealing to an imaginary
being that is omniscient and infallible can cover any lie, deception, fraud or
arbitrary claim one wants to promote. This is the appeal to “someone smarter
than I knows, so it doesn’t matter what I don’t know” gimmickry that colors the
whole of Christian “epistemology.” For the Christian believer, when it comes to
knowledge, it is not what he (the believer) knows, it is what (the
believer claims) his god knows. And since his god knows everything,
then the appeal to what (he claims) his god knows is a sure bet, given his
mystical premises. The believer can even claim to have insight into his
imaginary deity’s decrees by claiming to “think” its thoughts “after Him,”
thereby increasing his descent into the labyrinth of self-deceit. For Bahnsen,
this is the stuff of philosophy. And while such an ability to “think” the
“thoughts” of an omniscient and infallible being should endow Bahnsen with
astounding mental capacity, what we find instead is quite disappointing.
Unfortunately
for Bahnsen, he makes at least one thing indisputable: that he has no rational
defense for those mystical premises which he clearly wants to take for granted.
Observe:
Thus man has the rational and spiritual capability to
learn and understand truths about reality which transcend his temporal,
empirical experience - truths which are disclosed by his Creator. (p. 189)
Clearly
Bahnsen thinks that truths which “go beyond” the perceptual level of
consciousness, must be "truths which are disclosed by [the Christian
god]." For how else could man know them if his primary faculty of
awareness is sense perception? This amounts to nothing more than a confession
of ignorance and serves as further evidence that Bahnsen does not understand
the relationship between the perceptual and the conceptual levels of
consciousness. This persisting default is commonplace in presuppositionalism.
The fallacy behind this symptom is made most obvious in non sequiturs such as
the following:
there is no universality in perception so that which
is based on perception cannot be universal. (Peter Pike, The Contra-Pike Files,
p. 79)
It
is true that perception does not provide us with universal awareness. But as I
have already shown, if we could have direct awareness of all things past,
present and future such that we were omniscient, we would not need concepts to
retain our knowledge in the first place.
Moreover,
the argument that “that which is based on perception cannot be universal”
ignores the fact that universality is a property of concepts resulting from the
mental operation of measurement-omission. Universality is nothing more than the
open-endedness of a concept’s range of inclusive reference, and this
open-endedness of a concept’s range of reference is what measurement-omission
makes possible. There is no reason (and unsurprisingly, Pike offered none) for
supposing that concepts cannot be open-ended in their range of reference
because they are ultimately based on perception. Perception gives us direct
awareness of actually existing objects, and these objects are used by the mind
as models from which concepts are formed by a process of abstraction and
according to which similar units can be mentally integrated when they are
encountered. So while perception does not give us universal awareness, the
concepts which we form on the basis of what we perceive do in fact universal
reference.
Notice
how crucial a role presuppositionalism gives to ignorance here. Mysticism is
borne not only in ignorance, but also in the desire to perpetuate that
ignorance. We have seen how insidiously presuppositionalism seeks to exploit a
thinker’s ignorance of the way his mind operates in order to substitute an
objectively informed understanding of how it works with an elaborate fiction
resting ultimately in imagination, ad hoc invention and intellectual
self-negation, such as we have seen. We saw rudimentary elements of this
syndrome in Bahnsen’s debate with Gordon Stein, where Bahnsen seeks to mock
Stein for not having a ready answer to Hume’s “problem of induction.” Bahnsen
was so eager to fault Stein for this, not because Stein was a dimwit, but
because doing so is apologetically expedient. The presuppositionalist defense
claims that the problem of induction is answered by an appeal to the
supernaturalism of Christianity, indicating that the apologist has at best a
storybook understanding of induction. This simply announces that Bahnsen and
co. do not have a conceptual understanding of induction. A persisting
ignorance of the nature of concepts, the process by which they are formed, their
relationship to the perceptual level of consciousness, and the rich
implications they have for philosophy in general, is one of the calling cards
of the presuppositionalist.
Again,
Bahnsen must appeal to the supernatural in order to validate his supernaturalism:
It is evident that the Christian defends the possibility of metaphysical knowledge,
therefore, by appealing to certain metaphysical truths about God, man, and the
world. He reasons presuppositionally, arguing on the
basis of the very metaphysical premises
which the unbeliever claims are impossible
to know in virtue of their metaphysical nature. (p. 189)
Again
Bahnsen announces that he does not understand either the process by which
general truths about reality are discovered and formulated, or their
relationship to our experience (both in their formulation as well as their
application). He thinks he needs an invisible magic being to impart these
truths to us, which is a dead giveaway that he is going by premises he got from
a storybook rather than legitimate knowledge of the mind and the world. He says
that these truths “transcend [man’s] temporal, empirical experience,” but does
not give an example of such truths. Does he explain how these “truths... are
disclosed by his Creator”? No, he does not. He neither gives any details about
such a phenomenon, nor does he explain how he knows that this takes place. He
simply asserts it to be the case. But notice how Bahnsen really means
“supernatural” here rather than “metaphysical” proper. Intellectually, it is
not sufficient merely to affirm that knowledge of “the supernatural” is
“possible,” and leave it at that. This would only abandon knowledge, a key
value to man’s life, to the wilds of the imagination. But nowhere does Bahnsen
either seem to recognize this, nor does he seem at all concerned by it. His
primary concern is discrediting Christianity’s detractors, and in his vigilance
to submit the opponents of the Christian worldview to a setup and a shakedown,
as if the truth of Christianity could be established as the result of pulling
off some devious sting operation. This will only turn off honest inquirers, and
announce to virtually all comers that the apologist is trying to hide something
dishonest here.
But
notice Bahnsen’s description of the presuppositional method here. He makes it
clear that “presuppositional reasoning” involves “arguing on the basis of the
very... premises” which the non-believer disputes. So it is clear, by what
Bahnsen says here, that he wants to treat as a given that which is already
controversial. This is quite an admission, one which exposes the profoundly
anti-intellectual nature of presuppositional apologetics. It suggests that
he has no intention of presenting a defense for those premises which he
acknowledges as being controversial. This is not the course of
reasoning one would take in an upstanding philosophical debate. Bahnsen needs
to be prepared to defend those premises which are disputed from the very
beginning rather than simply affirm them in spite of their controversial
nature. But his preferred method only raises the suspicion that he cannot in
fact defend them, but wants to cling to them nonetheless.
Bahnsen
continues:
However, the anti-metaphysical unbeliever has his own
metaphysical commitments to which he is presuppositionally
committed and to which he appeals in his arguments (e.g., only sensible
individuals or particulars exist). (p. 190)
If
the non-believer has metaphysical commitments of his own, then perhaps
characterizing him as “anti-metaphysical” may actually
be inaccurate. Perhaps he simply rejects Christianity's
metaphysics. This alone would not make him
"anti-metaphysical." Since Logical Positivism is not the
universal testimony of non-Christians, what may very well be the case is that
the non-believer rejects Christianity because its metaphysics, epistemology (to
the extent that it has an epistemology) and its ethics are in conflict with
what he knows about reality and with his intellectual and axiological needs.
And though he may recognize that there is a conflict here, he may not be able
to articulate it very clearly or explicitly. In fact, the presuppositional
apologetic is counting on the non-believer not being well informed on these
matters (for instance, I doubt Gordon Stein thought that he was attending a
debate on the problem of induction). An informed mind is more likely to be able
to defend itself against the apologist's program of bamboozling, and conversely
an uninformed mind is more likely to be vulnerable to such bamboozling.
Now while Bahnsen has stated on numerous occasions that everyone has their
“presuppositions” (cf. Van Til’s Apologetic: Reading & Analysis, pp.
461-462), he seems to resent non-believers for having their own:
His materialistic, naturalistic, atheism is taken as
a final truth about reality, universally characterizing the nature of
existence, directing us how to distinguish appearance from reality, and resting
on intellectual considerations which take us beyond simple observation or sense
experience. The this-worldly outlook of the unbeliever is just as much a metaphysical opinion as
the "other-worldly" viewpoint he attributes to the Christian.
Yes,
the "this-worldly outlook of the unbeliever" is in fact a
metaphysical outlook (in the sense of metaphysics as the branch of philosophy
which formulates a view of existence as a whole), just as the
other-worldly view of the Christian is. The non-believer may be a
non-believer ultimately because he takes the fact that reality exists as a
final truth, whereas the theist chooses to treat the fact that reality
exists as a derivative truth, one that is "contingent" on the wishing of an invisible magic being.
The
non-believer is simply being consistent with the recognition that wishing
doesn’t make it so; whereas the believer is affirming a metaphysical position
which essentially affirms that reality conforms to conscious intentions (at
least to those of an invisible magic being), which robs him of any basis on
which to affirm with the non-believer that wishing does not make it so. And
while many non-believers do not identify this metaphysical orientation
explicitly, and many may in fact not be totally consistent with it, it does have
a name: the
primacy of existence.
So
what does Bahnsen do now that the non-believer willingly acknowledges that his
position has a metaphysical basis to it? He proceeds to characterize him as
contradicting himself by putting words into his mouth:
What is glaringly obvious, then, is that the
unbeliever rests upon and appeals to a metaphysical position in order to prove that
there can be no metaphysical position known to be true! He ironically and
inconsistently holds that nobody can know metaphysical truths, and yet he
himself has enough metaphysical knowledge to declare that Christianity is
wrong! (p. 190)
No
doubt this would a self-defeating position for one to take (though not all
non-believers affirm what Bahnsen attributes to them). But what does it have to
do with "knowing the 'super-natural'"? Predictably, Bahnsen turns
every opportunity to "account for" his worldview into an occasion to
lambaste those who do not believe in his invisible magic being (even if it
means attributing to them a position they do not affirm). What is irresponsible
is the fact that Bahnsen does not caution his readers to keep in mind that not
all non-believers repudiate the philosophical branch of metaphysics. This is in
addition to his default on the very topic of the thirty-first chapter of his
book Always Ready.
For
Bahnsen, it always boils down to a matter of antithesis:
It turns out that two full-fledged presuppositional
philosophies stand over against one another when the anti-metaphysician argues
with the Christian. (p. 190)
There
are two fundamental orientations to the world, the objective and the
subjective. I have already explained this in a previous blog:
see Only
Two Worldviews?
Bahnsen
makes it clear that vicious circularity is inevitable and unavoidable for his
position, for he must rest his defense of his supernaturalism on an appeal to
supernaturalism:
The metaphysical claims of Christianity are based on
God's self-revelation. (p. 190)
This
is a confession that Christianity’s “metaphysical claims” do not rest on reason.
One must accept those claims on faith, which is the only option open to
any position which reduces to the primacy of consciousness. And as
I have already shown, Bahnsen’s conception of faith as belief without
understanding is clearly indicated by his own statements on the topic.
Then
Bahnsen makes a most perplexing claim:
Moreover, they are consistent with the assumptions of
science, logical reasoning, and the intelligibility of human experience. (p.
190)
Specifically,
which metaphysical claims of Christianity in particular does Bahnsen think
"are consistent with the assumptions of science, logical reasoning, and
the intelligibility of human experience"? Is the claim that reality
conforms to conscious intentions (cf. Van Til’s “God controls whatsoever comes
to pass,” The Defense of the Faith, p. 160), that is “consistent with
the assumptions of science, logical reasoning, and the intelligibility of human
experience”? How about dead men reanimating and emerging out of their graves,
walking around in a city and showing themselves unto many (cf. Mt. 27:52-53) –
is this "consistent with the assumptions of science"? How about men
walking on unfrozen water (cf. Mark 6:48-50)? And what about water being wished
into wine (cf. John 2:1-11)? Why stop there? What about an extra-universal
consciousness wishing the universe into being? How about a worldwide flood from
which a tiny group of human beings and a collection of all animals living on
earth escape on a wooden ark? How are any of these claims, which carry
incredible metaphysical implications, at all "consistent with the
assumptions of science, logical reasoning, and the intelligibility of human
experience"? The intelligibility of human experience does not assume such
a cartoon universe paradigm. On the contrary, it assumes the non-cartoon
universe of rational atheism. Is it any surprise that Bahnsen does not stop to
substantiate his claim here? Indeed, to do so would tarnish his reputation for
drive-by assertions.
And
instead of substantiating his own claims, Bahnsen prefers to dwell on the
perceived errors of others:
On the other hand, the unbeliever who claims
metaphysical knowledge is impossible reasons on the basis of presuppositions
which are arbitrarily applied, self-refuting, unable to pass their own strict
requirements, and which undermine science and argumentation - indeed undermine
the usefulness of those very empirical procedures which are made the foundation
of all knowledge! (Always Ready, p. 190)
Again,
what does this have to do with unraveling “the problem of knowing the
‘super-natural’”? Pointing out the problems in position A does not validate the
assertions informing position B.
Bahnsen
closes the 31st chapter of Always Ready with a last gasp
which does nothing to explain how one can have knowledge of “the supernatural”:
This is simply to say that the anti-metaphysical position
has as its outcome the total abrogation, not simply of metaphysical knowledge,
but of all knowledge whatsoever. In order to argue against the faith, the
unbeliever must commit intellectual suicide - destroying the very reasoning
which he would feign to use against the truth of God! This is too high a
personal and philosophical price to pay for prejudices and presuppositions
which one hopes can form a roof to protect him from the revelation of God. (p.
190)
It
is indisputable that knowledge requires a metaphysical foundation. And it is
true: anyone who disputes this is implicitly drawing from a set of metaphysical
assumptions and thus undercutting his own claim. But not just any foundation
will do. Philosophers and laymen alike need to examine their own understanding
of the world and identify what it holds in terms of the issue of metaphysical
primacy. Do they "believe" that reality conforms to the wishes
and dictates of a reality-creating, universe-ruling consciousness (even though there
is no evidence for such a proposal), or do they recognize that the objects of
consciousness hold metaphysical primacy? This is the real root of the
antithesis between rational men and those who abandon it.
Final Assessment and Conclusion
Before
Greg Bahnsen’s death, Christian apologist John Frame hailed him as “one of the
sharpest apologists working today,” opining that “he is the best debater among
Christian apologists of all apologetic persuasions.” (Cornelius Van Til: An
Analysis of His Thought, p. 392) Elsewhere
he says that Bahnsen was “singularly gifted for the spiritual warfare of our
time” by the Christian god, and perhaps because of this divine
endowment, “Bahnsen still has no peer.” “Bahnsen's mind is razor sharp,” says
Blake White in his brief
review of Always Ready. Another source
refers to Bahnsen as “the man atheists fear most.”
Given
this noteworthy adulation, one would suppose that, if anyone can tackle “The
Problem of Knowing the ‘Super-Natural’,” it would be Greg Bahnsen. And many
Christian warriors would probably agree with this, supposing that books like Always
Ready and its 31st chapter are quintessential armaments against
the Christian worldview’s critics and the objections they raise. “The
Problem of Knowing the ‘Super-Natural’,” then, gives us a firsthand
look at how this amply lauded apologist addresses a matter of fundamental
importance to the Christian worldview.
As
I pointed out at the beginning of my examination of Bahnsen’s chapter on
“Knowing the ‘Super-Natural’,”
Christianity’s
defenders are prone to characterizing the non-believer’s rejection of “the
supernatural” as a symptom of some unjustifiable “bias” or unfair “prejudice”
which precludes an honest hearing of the case for supernaturalism or validation
of knowledge whose source is in “the supernatural.” But if it turns out that,
when the defense they offer for the notion of “the supernatural” is full of
gaping holes and missed opportunities, as we find in the case of Bahnsen’s
treatment of the issue, such charges are shown to have no credibility
whatsoever. Over and over we find that Bahnsen ignores fundamental questions to
the point that it becomes clear that he is seeking to evade them. This became
clear by reviewing his attempt to deal with “The Problem of Knowing the
‘Super-Natural’” with a few basic questions germane to the topic of the chapter
in mind, such as:
How can one “know” what the believer calls “the
supernatural”?
By what means does the believer have awareness of
what he calls “the supernatural”?
How does the believer distinguish what he calls “the
supernatural” (or “God”) from what he may merely be imagining?
How is “revelation” as applied to the bible different
from simply assuming that the stories in the bible are true?
Etc.
Add
to this list the question of how the notion of “the supernatural” is compatible
with the principle of objectivity, the primacy of existence metaphysics, and
rational philosophy in general, and we find that Bahnsen simply did not do his
homework on the issue.
Instead
of addressing questions of this nature, Bahnsen expends much of his energy
baldly asserting Christian dogma as if it were self-evidently true and trying
to discredit rival positions, as if doing so will somehow resolve “The
Problem of Knowing the ‘Super-Natural’.” At no point does he validate the
notion of "the supernatural," explain why we should believe it is
anything other than imaginary, identify the means by which man can have
awareness of it, or show how belief in "the supernatural" is compatible
with the principle of objectivity and rational philosophy.
Upon close examination of what Bahnsen does present, we find numerous new
problems instead of any resolutions, such as:
1)
Bahnsen nowhere
identifies in clear terms the starting point which grounds a “comprehensive
metaphysic” suitable for man, the means by which one might have awareness of
its starting point, or the process by which one can know that its starting
point could be true.
2)
Bahnsen’s
conception of “supernatural” (“whatever surpasses the limits of nature”) is too
open-ended for his own apologetic interests. It does not specify any actual
thing, and could apply to anything one imagines. To accept "the
supernatural" on Bahnsen's conception of it, would be to accept not only
Christianity's supernatural beings, but also those of other religions, since -
like Christianity's supernatural agents - the supernatural agents of other
mystical worldviews likewise "surpass the limits of
nature." Also, in practical matters, “whatever surpasses the limits
of nature” quite often spells danger and disaster for man.
3)
Bahnsen nowhere
enlightens his readers on how they can know “the supernatural,"
even though the very title of the 31st chapter of his book suggests that this
is something he would be setting out to do in that chapter.
4)
Bahnsen totally
neglects the issue of how one might have awareness of what he calls “the
supernatural.” He notes at many points that one does not have awareness of “the
supernatural” by means of sense-perception, or by any empirical mode of
awareness. However, this only tells us how we do not have awareness of
“the supernatural.” It leaves completely unstated how one does have
awareness of “the supernatural,” if in fact he claims to have such
awareness. Bahnsen resists identifying what that mode of awareness is.
5)
Bahnsen’s
theology entails knowledge acquired and held by a passive, inactive mind, which
is a contradiction in terms. The “knowledge” in question is the “knowledge of
the supernatural” that Christians claim to have as a consequence of divine
revelation, which is characterized as the Christian god coming to man rather
than man "speculating" or "groping" his way to it through
some cognitive activity.
6)
Bahnsen
promulgates a most tiresome and outworn dichotomy: either the mind is passive
and inactive in its acquisition of knowledge (since its “revealed” to him by
supernatural spirits), or he is left with “arbitrary speculations.” This
arbitrary dilemma ignores the very faculty by which man acquires and validates
knowledge in the first place, namely reason.
7)
Bahnsen provides
no indication of how one can confidently distinguish “the supernatural” from
what he is imagining. If there is a difference, then the ability to
distinguish them is of vital concern, since neither “the supernatural” nor the
constructs of one’s imagination exist in the “here and now,” are beyond the
testimony of the senses, and “surpass the limits of nature.” In other words,
since the imaginary and "the supernatural" look and behave very much
alike, the absence of an objective process by which the one can be reliably
distinguished from the other indicates a glaring epistemological oversight of
enormous proportions, suggesting that our leg is being pulled.
8)
Bahnsen exhibits
a hesitant fickleness regarding the role of inference in knowing “the
supernatural.” Is his god’s existence inferred from objectively
verifiable facts (if yes, from what objectively verifiable facts?), or directly
known (if yes, by what mode of awareness?)? At times he seems to be affirming
the former, at others the latter. At no point is he explicit in how exactly the
human mind can have knowledge of a being which "surpasses the limits of
nature."
9)
Bahnsen expends
much energy focusing his readers’ attention on purported failings of
non-believing worldviews, even though they are irrelevant to explaining how one
can acquire and validate knowledge of “the supernatural.” The detection of
internal problems within Logical Positivism, for instance, is not a proof of
the existence of "the supernatural," nor does it serve to inform any
epistemological basis to suppose that "the supernatural" is real.
10)
Bahnsen
seems resentful of epistemologies which take sense perception as a starting point - that is, as the fundamental operation of consciousness upon which knowledge of reality depends - but nowhere identifies any clear alternative. Indeed, he seems not to have thought this through very well at all. For upon analysis it becomes clear that “special revelation” (i.e., accepting whatever the bible says as truth) requires sense perception in order to “read the book,” and “general revelation” (i.e., inferring the Christian god’s existence and/or message from what we discover in nature) also involves sense perception (as a mode of awareness of nature) as well as at least in part consulting “internal evidences” – which could be feelings, wishes, imagination, hopes, etc. So there is strong evidence here of an ad hoc approach to epistemology as such.
11)
Bahnsen is
oblivious of how conceptualization works. This is can be
attributed to the fact that Christianity does not have its own theory of
concept-formation. Specifically, much of his case against supernaturalism’s
detractors demonstrates that he does not understand the relationship between
the perceptual level of awareness and the conceptual activity.
For instance, Bahnsen supposes that a comprehensive metaphysic cannot be based
ultimately on sense experience because sense experience is “limited.” But
concepts allow a thinker to expand his awareness beyond what he personally
experiences and while still basing his knowledge ultimately on what
he experiences. So the conflict against which Bahnsen reacts is
really due to his own ignorance of the nature of concepts.
12)
Bahnsen shows that
he must appeal to the supernatural in order to validate the supernatural, which
is terminally circular.
13)
Elements in
Bahnsen’s case are incompatible with elements that are part of the worldview
which he is trying to defend (e.g., that appearances are distinct from reality,
and yet “the
invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen” per
Romans 1:20).
So
instead of providing an objectively reliable answer to the problem he purports
to be addressing in the 31st chapter of his book Always Ready,
Bahnsen relies on a list of cheap gimmicks and blaring gaffs that carry him
haphazardly into areas that no careful thinker would want to go. Persisting
throughout the chapter is Bahnsen’s ignorance of the relationship between the
perceptual and the conceptual levels of human consciousness. In fact, it is
this relationship that is key to unraveling many of Bahnsen’s confusions over
issues such as the purported dichotomy between appearance and reality (which
Bahnsen raises, but does not explain or resolve), the conceptual (as
opposed to “empirical”) nature of knowledge, the fundamental weaknesses of
Logical Positivism, and a host of other related issues. In typical
presuppositionalist fashion, Bahnsen seeks to exploit this ignorance, which he
shares with many unwitting non-believers as well, in a concerted effort to turn
the spotlight from the problem which he should be addressing in his chapter
(given its title), to problems which he perceives in rival worldviews. But
anyone should be able to recognize that pointing out a problem in someone
else’s position does nothing to validate the claim that “the supernatural” is
real and that “knowledge” of it is legitimate. Exposing fundamental errors in
Logical Positivism, no matter how egregious they may be, will not explain
Bahnsen allegedly acquires knowledge of what he calls “the supernatural.”
But
in spite of these problems which should be obvious to any critical thinker, we
still find that many are charmed by Bahnsen’s sophistry. Blake White, for instance,
in his review
of Always Ready, tells us that
Bahnsen spends a lot of time on epistemology and the
need for a truly Christian theory of knowledge.
What
contribution does Bahnsen make on the topic of epistemology when he doesn’t
address the fundamental questions pertaining to “The Problem of Knowing the
‘Super-Natural’,” and how do the gimmicks, fallacies and evasions listed above
address man’s need for a theory of knowledge? Contrary to what White tells his
readers, Bahnsen gives us at best an epistemology of utter negligence.
In
conclusion, then, we can with certainty say that any appeal to the supernatural
is irrational. This is because supernaturalism assumes the primacy of
consciousness metaphysics, which constitutes a crass departure from the
reality-based orientation to the world which makes rationality possible in the
first place. In addition to this, appeals to supernaturalism fail to identify how
the content of its claims can be established in a manner consistent with the
nature of the human mind and its cognitive functions; they fail to identify the
means by which one can acquire awareness of that which is allegedly
“supernatural,” how claims that supernatural beings exist can be validated, and
how such claims can be tested for their supposed truth value. Adherents to
supernaturalism are quick to point to the means by which supernatural claims
are not validated or tested, but fail to identify the means by which
they could be validated and tested. Furthermore, adherents to
supernaturalism fail to provide a method for distinguishing what they call “the
supernatural” and what they may merely be imagining, thus priming the mind of
one who is prone to believing supernatural claims for compromising fact with
fantasy. As evidence of these points indicating the irrationality of
supernaturalism, adherents of supernaturalism inevitably find that they need to
appeal to their supernaturalism in order to defend their supernaturalism, which
is viciously circular and therefore fallacious. So not only is supernaturalism
by virtue of its nature and content irrational, it also invites the call for
fallacy in its defenses. To accuse non-supernaturalists
of an “unjust bias” for their rejection of supernaturalism, then, is
consequently also irrational, indeed hypocritical.
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