Stolen Concepts and
Intellectual Parasitism
Originally posted on Incinerating
Presuppositionalism
A visitor to my blog once suggested that Christianity comprises a long
tradition of concept-stealing, and cited as examples the pagan mystery
religions from ancient times (e.g., the eucharist,
the virgin birth, a dying and rising savior, etc.), the adoption of
non-Christian holidays (e.g., Easter, Christmas), even modern scientific
advancements (such as hospitals) that are claimed as the byproduct of Christian
intellectualism. I was taken aback by this comment because it demonstrated to
me that even frequent readers of my blog may not have
a good understanding of what is happening when one commits the fallacy of the
stolen concept. For although the fallacy of the stolen
concept is an error that is fundamental to the Christian worldview, these are
not examples of concept-stealing (though the reasoning behind some of them may
involve stolen concepts). There are important distinctions between the
fallacy of the stolen concept on the one hand, and cultural hijacking and
intellectual parasitism on the other. These distinctions can be missed due to
unfamiliarity with the nature of the error committed by stolen concepts.
The Fallacy of the Stolen Concept
A stolen concept is not characterized by making use (either real or
apparent) of a tradition of a worldview to which one does not ascribe. An non-Christian, for instance, is not committing the
fallacy of the stolen concept if he gives out gifts to friends and loved ones
every December 25. Similarly, I would not be committing the fallacy of the
stolen concept by attending a Passover feast with one of my Jewish friends. On
the contrary, the fallacy of the stolen concept is a cognitive fallacy
involving specifically a breach of the knowledge hierarchy. It’s an insidious
type of error which usually goes unnoticed, unless it’s so explicit that it’s
difficult to miss. The fallacy of the stolen concept occurs when one makes use
of a concept while denying or ignoring its genetic roots. An obvious example
would be when someone affirms the validity of geometry while insisting that
numbers are meaningless. As a mathematical science, geometry assumes that
numbers are conceptually valid, that numbers have meaning. But how could
something which assumes the meaningfulness of numbers be valid if numbers
really are meaningless? One of the primary genetic roots, then, of the concept
‘geometry’ is the validity of numbers. So the fallacy of the stolen concept
occurs if we make use of the concept ‘geometry’ while denying the meaningfulness
of numbers.
Other clearly detectable examples of the fallacy of the stolen concept which
may be encountered in the theist-atheist debate would include the following:
- “Consciousness does not exist, and
here’s why I think that”: This statement commits the fallacy of the stolen concept because it assumes
the actuality of thinking while denying consciousness, the faculty one needs in
order to think in the first place. In fact, the fallacy occurs in two distinct
ways. It occurs conceptually, because the concept ‘consciousness’ is a
conceptual root of the concept ‘to think’, and yet it is being denied in the
statement. It also occurs genetically, for the faculty of consciousness is the
genetic root of the act of thinking.
- “Your consciousness is invalid unless you believe that God exists”:
This statement obviously commits the fallacy of the stolen concept because it
requires that one perform a conscious function (believing) in order to validate
one’s consciousness. But if one’s consciousness is invalid to begin with, how
could he use it to believe anything? And if he accepts the premise that the use
of his consciousness is required in order to validate it, how could any belief
he holds be true? Blank out. Just by perceiving any object, one’s consciousness
is a fact. This is why Objectivism holds that the validity of consciousness is
axiomatic. Any view which denies this ends up committing the fallacy of the
stolen concept.
- “Existence cannot be ultimate for it is an impersonal starting point, and
the impersonal cannot account for the personal”: One who affirms this kind
of statement has a very poor understanding of why knowledge requires a starting
point, and seems to think that the undesirable consequences of a certain
position are sufficient to invalidate that position. The only alternative to
existence is non-existence, but the proponent of the view expressed here wants
to posit something that exists prior to existence, one answering to the
descriptor “personal.” What is essential to “personal” if not conscious
activity? Thus the view affirmed here seeks to place consciousness prior to
existence, alleging that this consciousness “accounts for” existence as such.
This view clearly commits the fallacy of the stolen concept by affirming
consciousness before or outside existence, which is a contradiction in terms.
It affirms the existence of a consciousness, and yet it affirms this existence
“prior to existence.” The result is conceptually absurd, and yet it is on this
basis that some would label contrary views absurd.
Most commonly accepted instances of stolen concepts, however, are not so
obvious or easily identified, at least to those who have little understanding
of the nature of abstractions and the process of conceptual reduction. On this
point I’m in deep agreement with Peikoff when he
writes:
The reason stolen concepts are so prevalent is
that most people (and most philosophers) have no idea of the “roots” of a
concept. In practice, they treat every concept as a primary, i.e., as a
first-level abstraction; thus they tear the concept from any place in a
hierarchy and thereby detach it from reality. Thereafter, its use is governed
by caprice or unthinking habit, with no objective guidelines for the mind to
follow. The result is confusion, contradiction, and the conversion of language
into verbiage. (Objectivism: The Philosophy of Ayn Rand, p. 136.)
Knowledge is conceptual in nature, and concepts are formed ultimately on
the basis of perceptual input, or on the basis of previously formed concepts (which
were formed ultimately on the basis of perceptual input). Knowledge is thus
hierarchical: higher levels of knowledge rest on the truth of lower levels of
knowledge. For instance, the mathematical science of geometry depends on the
truth of basic number theory. Without basic number theory, there could be no
science of geometry. One commits the fallacy of the stolen concept, then, if,
for example, he affirms the validity of geometry as a mathematical science, but
denies the truth of basic number theory. How could the calculation of the
volume of a cone, for instance, be intelligible if the units of measure
represented numerically could not figure in that calculation, because their
quantification was impossible? Blank out.
So how does Christianity commit the fallacy of the stolen concept then?
Obviously, it does not explicitly affirm a higher level abstraction (such as
geometry) while explicitly denying its genetic roots (like basic number
theory). Or does it? Numerous Objectivist philosophers have pointed that
Christianity does in fact commit the fallacy of the stolen concept at the most
fundamental level of cognition. However, it may not be so readily apparent to
thinkers who are unfamiliar with the kind of error that makes stolen concepts
fallacious.
Even broader than simply Christianity, theism in general commits the fallacy of
the stolen concept by reversing the proper orientation of the subject-object
relationship. It must be borne in mind that, since consciousness is
consciousness of something, a subject by virtue of its nature qua subject
presupposes the existence of some object(s) for it to be aware of. Theism
commits the fallacy of the stolen concept by granting metaphysical primacy to
the subject in the subject-object relationship. It does this most explicitly in
its notion of a god, but it does this elsewhere as well. In
terms of essentials, Christianity’s notion of a god amounts to affirming
consciousness prior to any independently existing objects. Taking into
consideration its full implications, Christianity basically asserts the
existence of consciousness without anything to be conscious of, which is a
contradiction in terms. In the actual world (as opposed to the imaginary
realm of the theistic believer), the objects of consciousness hold
metaphysical primacy over the subject of consciousness: objects are what they
are independent of any consciousness which perceives or considers them. All
rational activity presupposes this orientation in the subject-object
relationship, and rational philosophy is firmly and explicitly built on this
fundamental premise. To deny it is to affirm the reality of consciousness while
denying its inherent need for objects to complete the relationship which
distinguishes conscious experience from other phenomena.
The Christian god is said to be a conscious being which created the universe by
an act of will. In other words, it wished,
and this caused the universe of objects to come into being. On this view, the
universe, defined as the sum totality of everything that exists, is a creation
of consciousness. The consciousness in question here is clearly thought to hold
metaphysical primacy over everything else. Christianity’s assumption of the
primacy of consciousness is unmistakable. It’s also inexcusable. The primacy of
consciousness means the primacy of the subject in the subject-object
relationship. On such a paradigm, the objects conform to the subject, for the
subject holds metaphysical primacy over its objects. This is the opposite of
the principle of objectivity; in fact, it is the very essence of subjectivism,
and Christianity’s embrace of subjectivism is explicit. (See for instance my blog Confessions
of a Vantillian Subjectivist.)
The very notion of a bodiless consciousness commits the fallacy of the stolen
concept by affirming consciousness while denying the biological processes which
make consciousness possible. While the ancient primitives who first imagined a
deity beyond the objects they perceived, lacked any scientific understanding of
the brain, the nervous system, the organs of the senses, etc., which make
consciousness possible in biological organisms, today’s theists do not have
this excuse. When this fact is pointed out, theists often try to challenge it
by insisting that the non-believer prove that consciousness is strictly
biological. This maneuver, however, misses several important points. For one,
it fails to take into account that all demonstrable examples of consciousness
found in reality belong to biological organisms, be they cats, fish, horses,
deer, orangutans, or human beings. Also, it fails to take into account how one
forms the concept ‘consciousness’ in the first place.
It is not up to the non-believer to prove that there can be no such thing as a
consciousness without some biological organism which can host it. Rather, it is
up to the asserter of such a view to explain how the concept ‘consciousness’
can be formed so as to allow for such assertions. For instance, what units does
the believer discover and integrate into his concept of consciousness such that
it allows for such notions? (The same type of error is found in attempts to
evade the primacy of existence principle by allowing that existence may hold in
the case of human consciousness, while affirming the existence of some non-human
consciousness to which objects conform; for more on this, see my blog The
Axioms and the Primacy of Existence.) And how does he distinguish what he
calls a consciousness without a body from something he is simply imagining?
Typically defenders of theism never consider these kinds of questions, let
alone have ready answers to them. Instead, their goal is to deflect such
considerations by insisting that the burden of proof is on those who do not
accept their unsupported claims in the first place. So much effort can be found
on the part of theists to cover their commitment to stolen concepts.
Christian apologists commit the fallacy of the stolen concept when they claim
that their epistemological starting point is “the Word of God,” i.e., the
entirety of the bible. For instance, Bahnsen asserts that “the true starting
point of thought cannot be other than God and His revealed word” (Bahnsen, Always
Ready, p. 73) Elsewhere he asserts that “God’s
mind is epistemologically the standard of truth – thus being the ‘ultimate’
starting point.” (Bahnsen, Van Til’s Apologetic:
Readings & Analysis, p. 100n.33) But none of this is conceptually
irreducible.
To say that “God” is one’s proper epistemological starting point likewise
commits the fallacy of the stolen concept, for – because even according to
Christianity itself, it is supposed to be imperceptible – it could not (even if
we supposed it exists) number among the objects of which man is aware directly.
Even if the believer claims that we all know his god directly (following Rom.
1:18f), he cannot identify any objective means by which one could have
awareness of his god, let alone explain how one can reliably distinguish
between what he calls “God” and what he may simply be imagining.
If the believer says “God exists” is his starting point, we simply ask where he
got the concept ‘exists’. He must have already formed this concept in order to
apply it to his god, thus indicating that he in fact does have knowledge that
is even more fundamental than his claim that his god exists. As Porter rightly
points out, “anybody can deny the validity of ‘God’, but nobody can deny the
validity of ‘existence’.” (Ayn Rand’s
Theory of Knowledge, p. 176) As far as fundamentality is concerned, the
Christian notion of god, for instance, is so packed with notions and
assumptions that it could not possibly constitute a conceptually irreducible
primary. What is “God”? According to Christianity, it is, along with many other
things, the creator of the universe, the uncaused cause, a trinity, a sovereign
being worthy of man’s devotion and sacrifice, the controller of history, etc.,
etc. None of these roles, descriptors or definitions are
conceptually irreducible, and yet they are all supposedly needed in order to
know what the Christian god is and to affirm its existence.
Moreover, the bible, beginning with the first verse of the first chapter of the
book of Genesis and ending with the last verse of the last chapter of the book
of Revelation, is an enormous sum of mystical stories, genealogies, accounts,
hymns, poetry, letters, etc. The claim that the bible (either in part or in toto) is true, rests on many prior assumptions, and errs by
failing to recognize the hierarchical structure of knowledge. Like other pieces
of literature, the bible is composed of a long series of statements and
propositions, each of which in turn is itself composed of a string of concepts.
There are very few axiomatic concepts in human thought; the rest are definable
in terms of prior concepts. This is particularly the case with the higher
abstractions. In other words, most concepts, because they can (and must) be
defined in terms of prior concepts (concepts resting on lower tiers of the
knowledge hierarchy), are reducible to other concepts. And if concepts are not
irreducible, then surely the statements and propositions consisting of such
concepts are not irreducible. Even more, a chapter in a book which is
constituted by a string of propositions, is far from
conceptually irreducible. So the bible (i.e., “God’s word”) is not conceptually
irreducible, and thus could not be one’s starting point. To call it one’s
starting point is to deny the entire conceptual strata assumed by the thousands
of concepts which make up its content, which means: such a claim commits the
fallacy of the stolen concept. It would be better if the believer sit down and
honestly think about what his true starting point might be. But apologetics
provides a mechanism by which his true starting point will forever remain
obscured to him. This is why presuppositionalism is such a farce: rather than
identifying one’s philosophical fundamentals in a clear, concise and explicit
manner, the presuppositional apologetic shrouds its underlying assumptions in a
haze of verbiage, subterfuge and gimmickry, while demanding that any rival
position satisfy challenges which the Christian worldview could never attempt
to tackle without tacitly borrowing from fundamentally anti-Christian
perspectives about the world.
The idea that the bible is the proper epistemological starting point isn’t even
really biblical. The bible itself never enumerates which books properly belong
within it, nor does it come out and say that it should be one’s starting point.
On the contrary, the bible is explicit on what should be one’s starting point.
According to Proverbs 1:7, fear is “the beginning of knowledge.” But this constitutes
yet another stolen concept, for it seeks to place an emotion prior to any
knowledge, and yet emotions presuppose at least some knowledge. If X is one’s
starting point to knowledge, then X could not assume knowledge prior to itself.
But how could one have fear of something and not have at least some knowledge
to give that fear its content? Indeed, if one can validly say that “the fear of
God is the beginning of knowledge,” one could with equal validity say that “the
love for Blarko is the beginning of knowledge.” Both
are “equally valid” because both equally lack any objective basis and both turn
the knowledge hierarchy on its head. Either way you slice it,
, fear is certainly not man’s epistemological starting point. Perception
is, and those who contest this fact simply mire themselves down in a flood of
stolen concepts.
Believers witnessing for their faith commit the fallacy of the stolen concept
quite regularly without realizing it. Take for example the claim “God exists
whether anyone believes it or not.” One will see this kind of claim (in various
renditions) in encounters with defenders of the religious worldview quite
frequently. Without realizing it, the religious witness making this kind of
claim is making use of the primacy of existence, the principle which recognizes
the fact that reality exists independent of
consciousness, that things are what they are regardless of thoughts, wishes,
ignorance, emotions, memories, etc. And yet this principle is being applied to
religious claims which assert the existence of a consciousness which allegedly
has precisely the very power that is denied to every other consciousness. On
the Christian view, there exists a supernatural being whose consciousness has
the power to create, shape and revise anything in reality. Bahnsen makes this
unmistakably clear: “The believer understands that truth fundamentally is
whatever conforms to the mind of God” (Van Til’s Apologetic: Readings &
Analysis, p. 163). “God is the creator of every fact,” says Van Til (Christian
Theistic Evidences, p. 88; quoted in Bahnsen, Van Til's Apologetic,
p. 378.) If one affirms that truth is “whatever conforms to the mind of God,”
and “God is the creator of every fact,” this can only mean that he cannot
consistently hold to the fundamental principle underlying the claim that
something is the case “whether anyone believes it or not.” For he has made
allowance for the primacy of the subject in the subject-object relationship by
affirming a consciousness with abilities that no consciousness we find in the
world possesses. Such a being would enjoy precisely the exact opposite
orientation between itself as a subject and anything in its awareness that man
and other biological organisms have. So the witness is borrowing a principle
that is fundamentally alien to the worldview he proclaims in order to defend
it. This can only mean that it is indefensible on its own terms. It constitutes
a stolen concept because he enlists the help of a position (the primacy of
existence) to defend a position which fundamentally denies that position (by
affirming the primacy of consciousness).
Intellectual Parasitism
Now the cultural borrowings mentioned at the beginning of this blog are components of Christianity’s parasitic campaign of
intellectual assimilation. Christianity’s goal of mass assimilation is the
cultural outworking of its ethics of the unearned, which has its primary locus
at the level of the individual. In Christianity’s moral theory, the believer is
expected to accept unearned guilt (which he “inherited” from the original
transgressors Adam and Eve by virtue of being born human) and to prize unearned
forgiveness (“mercy” in the form of the “free gift” of “salvation” and
“redemption”, neither of which he can “earn” through his own effort or on his
own merit). By granting justification to the pursuit and acceptance of the
unearned in morality, Christianity has no principle basis for restraining new
iterations of this vice in other areas of human endeavor. Given its
self-righteous claim to the unearned, Christianity’s lust for cultural
assimilation is inevitable.
On the broader societal level, Christianity seeks to absorb entire cultures as
well as individual minds or souls. Its appetite for assimilation is insatiable
as it creates in its leaders a hunger to devour both achievers and their
achievements, using underachievers and non-achievers as their instruments.
Those who resist Christianity are to be destroyed, typically by turning them
into non-persons through personal demoralization and public character assassination
(burning at the stake is no longer allowed in the west), while those
achievements which challenge Christianity’s doctrines must be reinterpreted so
as to neutralize their damaging effect, or stigmatized through repetitive
castigation (consider how vocal Christianity’s defenders are in reaction to the
scientific theory of evolution). When Christianity moves into a new populace
(think of Vladimir I’s autocratic baptismal of Kievan Rus in 988 AD), rival
religious traditions are the first to be absorbed, because this netted the
largest numbers of a culture’s population. An entire culture can be a tempting
catch – and also a handy tool – for enterprising fishermen. In just two or
three generations, entire traditions could be recast with Christian accoutrements,
and the new generation, having never clearly understood the original meaning of
the assimilated tradition in the first place, accepted the traditions in their
new Christian guise as originally Christian. For instance, in Europe
Christianity absorbed pagan traditions like Yule, while effacing the
personalities and lore associated with those traditions and replacing them with
its own, such as the nativity scene inspired by the gospel stories.
In modern apologetics, Christianity’s compulsion for cultural assimilation has
created entire crusades to assimilate all of academia, to convert entire
university faculties as well as their subject matter, teachers and students
from their secular basis to a specifically Christian monstrosity. They focus on
the humanities, the philosophy departments particularly, but by no means
exclusively. Van Til made this ambition crystal clear when he announced:
Why am I so much interested in the foundations of
science? It is (a) because with [Abraham] Kuyper I
believe that God requires of us that we claim every realm of being for him, and
(b) because with Kuyper I believe that unless we
press the crown rights of our King in every realm we shall not long retain them
in any realm. (The Defense of the Faith, 1st ed., pp. 279-280; quoted in
Bahnsen, Van Til’s Apologetic: Readings & Analysis, p. 26.)
For Van Til, it’s all or nothing, and his
worldview guarantees him that the ends justify the means. Non-Christians do all
the enterprising work, the experimenting, the analyzing, the fact-checking, the
risk-taking, the heavy-lifting, etc., and Christians come along afterwards,
survey the results through the filter of their arbitrary religious views, and
claim them on behalf of the magic kingdom. You almost expect them to show up on
horseback in plate armor. That was how it happened in the olden days, before
the Declaration of Independence. Today they serve up a piping hot dish of
circuitous casuistry, sophisticated fallacies, deceptive tactics, and the
promulgation of divisionary prejudices all found throughout a vast and growing
apologetics literature that is prone to repeating itself over and over and over
again (as if by ceaselessly chanting a mantra, one will eventually begin to
believe it). In many cases one will find an attempt to make the achievements of
men appear possible only on the basis of Christian theism in the first place.
Often the attempt is as simplistic as mere association. Isaac Newton, for
instance, was a professing Christian; because of this his achievements in
mathematics and science are thought by many to be logically related to
Christian teaching somehow.
Is this an unfair assessment? Not at all. Apologist
John Frame also openly admits the intellectual grand larceny which he promotes
as an integral part of the Christian worldview:
On the basis of Christian theism, we can use the
knowledge discovered by unbelieving scientists, while observing the problems
into which their unbelief has led them. (Cornelius Van Til: An Analysis of
His Thought, p. 335)
Since Christianity represents a full assault on reason and man’s intellect,
its adherents have no choice but to look to the achievements of non-Christian
thinkers. They certainly have no intellectual claim to scientific achievements,
this much is clear. Science is strictly a this-worldly concern, and
Christianity teaches its adherents to put their heart in a magic kingdom beyond
the grave and not to be concerned with the cares of this world. Even in the
case of scientists, for instance, who profess faith in the Christian god, any
achievements they may make in the field of science are made in spite of their
Christian beliefs, not because of them. This is because Christian beliefs, as
we have seen, are integrally mired in stolen concepts and other conceptual
errors which inhibit the mind in its pursuit of knowledge and truth. It is only
by compartmentalizing religious beliefs so as to segregate them from one’s
activities in the real world, that these scientists are able to do anything,
even drive an automobile.
Frame makes it clear that, so long as the believer can benefit from “the
knowledge discovered by unbelieving scientists,” that knowledge is useful to
the believer. And that’s fine as far as it goes. But if the believer should
make use of that knowledge, he is compelled by his confessional commitment to
discredit its source. Making use of such knowledge demands of the believer a
colossal feat of compartmentalization, for now he must rationalize his use of
knowledge while maintaining that the method by which it was acquired – cf. “the
wisdom of this world [which] is foolishness with God” (I Cor.
3:19) and “hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition
and the basic principles of this world rather than on Christ” (Col. 2:8) – is
to be avoided for its satanic associations.
Notice how the pursuit of the unearned is intimately intertwined not only
within presuppositionalism’s methodology, but also in
its ambitions. This is most clearly evident in presuppositionalism’s
deployment of pat slogans which are intended to bring any discussion with its
opponents to a screeching halt. For instance, the presuppositionalist will
claim that his god exists “because of the impossibility of the contrary.” Does
he ever establish this alleged “impossibility of the contrary”? No, he does
not, but he insists that it be accepted as a justified premise within his
“argument” for his god’s existence. If the apologist himself believes it, he
believes it for no clear reason.
The pursuit of the unearned is also evident in the emphasis on canned
interrogative tactics rather than genuine arguments. We’ve all seen them
before. Apologists will bully their opponents with questions like “how do you
account for universal statements when you have only a finite mind?” or “how do
you account for immaterial entities in a material-only worldview?” The goal of
posing a series of questions and challenges to the non-believer in rapid-fire
succession, as many presuppositionalists are wont to do, is not to acquire new
knowledge from the non-believer; the presuppositionalist has already concluded
that the non-believer is incapable of acquiring and validating knowledge in the
first place. The apologist dispenses his playbook of readymade questions and
over-worn challenges for the purpose of alleviating himself of his burden to
defend his god-belief claims in any cogent manner and overwhelming his
non-believing opponent with fabricated burdens which are specifically intended
to be unanswerable, even though it is typically the apologist who wants the
non-believer to accept Christianity’s religious claims, and not the other way
around. The effect of all this suggests that the apologist hopes to break the
non-believer down in the interest of extracting the confession “Duh, I donno,
must be God did it!”
All these are expressions of the Christian’s love affair with the unearned. The
non-believer is expected to accept unearned burdens (e.g., he may not identify
himself as a “materialist” but the apologist insists that he defend materialism
nonetheless), while believers reserve for themselves a free, undeserved pass
when it comes to substantiating their bizarre and otherworldly claims.
Surprisingly, it really irks them when their gimmicks are exposed.
Frequently, however, when some of the more astute apologists do try to contrive
arguments for the existence of their god, we are presented with a swarm of
issues that are so complex and full of subtle ambiguities that most people
couldn’t follow them very well at all, let alone be persuaded by them that a
god exists. The average pew-sitter, for instance, surely did not convert to
Christianity because he is convinced that Christianity’s conception of a triune
god somehow solves the problem of universals. Such arguments are ultimately
intended to bamboozle by means of bewilderment, hoping to exploit the
non-believer by steamrolling him with the impression that the apologist is so
intelligent that he must be right. (The use of Latinate phrases is a favorite
device for this.) The apologist appears to be presenting what looks like a
logical case, but upon deeper examination his premises point to nothing. It is
all part of an elaborate bluff designed to shield the apologist’s own evasions
from detection and exposure. It seeks to do this by putting the non-believer on
the run, pressuring him psychologically either to renounce his non-belief, or
flee from the apologist in defeat. More often than not, however, it is the
apologist who flees the debate, particularly when he finds a non-believer who’s
happy to engage him and examine any argument (or pseudo-argument) he might
present on behalf of his god-belief. When the slogans and jargon fail to cast
their spell on spoilsport atheists, the apologist typically grows frustrated,
either lashing out with condescending invectives, or abandoning the discussion
altogether so that he can seek out other fish that will be easier to catch in
his flimsy net.
____________________________________________