The Uniformity of Nature
Originally published on Incinerating Presuppositionalism, February 2010.
In their deployment of the "transcendental
argument for the existence of God," presuppositionalists
often raise the problem of induction as a debating point and demand that
non-Christian opponents provide an "account for" the uniformity of nature. The
presumption of this strategy is that induction presupposes the uniformity of
nature, and its intent is to expose a non-Christian's failure to provide an
"account for" this vital presupposition necessary for inductive reasoning.
The Meaning of "Account For"
Now it is not always clear what exactly the presuppositionalist
is looking for when he requires that a non-believer provide an "account for"
the uniformity of nature. Some presuppositionalists
have indicated that in this context an "account" for something is a logical
proof. But in the case of the uniformity of nature, this seems quite an odd
thing to expect from anyone, since it can be reasonably held that proof as such
presupposes the uniformity of nature. To categorize a line of inference as a
"proof" suggests that it is a proof on every day of the week, not just on
Tuesdays which happen to fall on a holiday in Laos. Any proof given to satisfy
the apologist's line of inquiry could feasibly be rejected for assuming what is
supposed to be proved.
It may be that the apologist is asking the non-believer to identify the cause
of nature's uniformity. But here again, pointing to any specific cause which
makes nature uniform would be vulnerable to the charge of circularity, since it
could reasonably be postulated that causation as such presupposes the
uniformity of nature. If the non-believer were to attempt an answer to the presuppositionalist's inquiry by pointing to something
which causes nature to be uniform, he could again be charged with
circular reasoning for appealing to a law whose persistence itself requires the
very thing he's been called to provide an "account for." If an "account" is
understood in this way, it seems unreasonable to require it from anyone,
regardless of his stance on theism.
Alternatively, presuppositionalists may characterize
the challenge to "account for" the uniformity of nature as a request to present
a "logical warrant" or "rational justification" for assuming that nature is
uniform, thus presumably broadening the challenge beyond the need to present a
formal proof or identify the cause of nature's uniformity. Of course, this
would in turn broaden the range of viable candidates which can satisfy the
challenge, which may in turn pose certain subsequent challenges for the
apologist. By expanding the latitude of the meaning of "account" in such a
manner, the apologist widens the possibilities of acceptable contenders. But
with this broadening may also come ambiguity which, it seems, needs some
tightening down in order to clarify what exactly is being requested of the
non-Christian, and to make clear at the outset what validly constitutes an
"account for" the uniformity of nature, and what could not. After all, it is
clear from the context of the controversy which the presuppositionalist
intends to stoke, that appeals to an invisible magic being constitute, in his
mind, a valid approach to settling the matter.
Then again, as we venture into this matter, it may be wise to bear in mind the
possibility that presuppositionalism is essentially
geared toward entrapping non-Christians, perhaps in the hopes of scoring a
debating point rather than clarifying some genuinely mysterious philosophical
issue. It should be no secret that presuppositionalism
has a predatory agenda. It may seem to be the case, and possibly for good
reason, that the apologist is deliberately seeking to corner the non-Christian
into producing a question-begging "account" so that the apologist can say "Ah
ha! Gotcha!" The situation grows even more suspect
when we remember that presuppositionalists themselves
"prefer to reason in a circle to not reasoning at all" (Cornelius Van Til, A Survey of Christian Epistemology, p. 12),
suggesting that there really is no alternative to tail-chasing petitios. Apologists of this school seem, however, to
reserve this excuse exclusively for themselves, while citing circularity as a
fatal error for their opponents' position if and when they are charged with
this.
Uniformity and Metaphysical Primacy
Because the issue of metaphysical primacy is the most fundamental concern in
all philosophy, the first item to address in considering the question of how
one "accounts for" the uniformity of nature is not whether or not nature's
uniformity entails theism or atheism per se, nor would I say that trifling over
what exactly the presuppositionalist means by
"account for" will be very productive (good luck getting him to commit to a
clear meaning here). Rather, the controversy here first needs to be understood
in terms of metaphysical primacy. Specifically, if it is agreed that
nature is in fact uniform, does the uniformity of nature presuppose the
primacy of existence, or does it presuppose the primacy of consciousness? Is
nature uniform independent of anyone's thoughts, feelings, wishes, commands or
temper tantrums? Or, does the fact that nature is uniform depend on some form
of conscious activity?
This is the central question to be considered before all others: is
consciousness involved in "making" nature uniform, or is nature uniform on
its own, regardless of what consciousness does?
As an Objectivist, my answer to this question is that nature is uniform on its
own, independent of anyone's conscious activity. A person can deny the
uniformity of nature, but nature remains uniform all the same, in spite of such
denials. This means that if no consciousness exists, the entities which do
exist still act according to their natures. This is the view consistent with
the axioms "existence exists," "to exist is to be something" (i.e., to have identity),
and "entities act according to their natures" independent of consciousness.
In his discussion on the problem of induction, presuppositionalist
Brian Knapp speaks of the need to have a "logical justification for
doing something" ("Induction and the Unbeliever," The Portable Presuppositionalist, p. 124), including presumably
assuming that nature is uniform, and asks "Why do you believe nature is
uniform, and how is that belief rationally justified?" (Ibid.).
"the faculty by which an individual identifies and integrates the objects of his
perception. This faculty presupposes the metaphysical primacy of existence -
i.e., the view that the objects of one's consciousness exist and are what they
are independent of the conscious activity by which he is aware of them.
But this does not seem at all consistent with what presuppositionalism affirms.
The Presuppositionalist Approach
The standard presuppositionalist "justification" for
the premise that nature is uniform is quite different from the Objectivist view
that nature is inherently uniform independent of conscious activity. While presuppositional apologists often make a big deal about
"accounting for" the uniformity of nature, they exhibit no concern for the
issue of metaphysical primacy. On the contrary, presuppositionalism
is exclusively concerned with advancing the view that the uniformity of nature
is theistically caused. Specifically, it affirms the existence of a
supernatural conscious being
who has created the universe in which we live
(Gen. 1:1, Col. 1:16), and who sovereignly maintains
it as we find it to be (Heb. 1:3). This God has a plan for his creation (Eph.
1:11), not the least part of which is revealing himself to it (Rom. 1:19-20).
Part of this revelation involves creating and sustaining the universe in such a
way that his creatures are able to learn about it and function within it (Gen. 8:22).
(Brian Knapp, "Induction and the Unbeliever," The Portable Presuppositionalist, p. 132)
Although presuppositionalists
can be expected to insist that this "account for" the uniformity of nature has
not "simply 'moved the problem' by introducing God into the equation" (Ibid.,
p. 135), it seems that this is precisely all that such appeals ultimately
accomplish. The claim that a being "has created the universe in which we live"
and "sovereignly maintains it as we find it to be,"
amounts to the view that the uniformity of nature is a product of some
prior cause. This assumes the continuity of any causal process by which
said being allegedly accomplishes these tasks. In other words, the
"justification" for the premise that nature is uniform proposed by presuppositionalism assumes the uniformity of nature
from the get go.
It is unhelpful to the presuppositionalist case for
apologists to seek exemption from the applicability of a law of nature - and
therefore, by implication, the uniformity of nature - in their proposed
solution by pointing to their god's "supernatural" character, for however they
wish to conceive of their god, they are unable to escape the causal
implications embedded in their proposed justification. Essentially they are
saying that their god causes nature to be uniform, and are thus invoking
a natural law - namely the law of causality - even if they wish to refer
to it by some other name. The presuppositionalist
appeal to theism, then, to "account for" the uniformity of nature, assumes the
very thing that this appeal is supposed to explain, and is thus an instance of
reasoning in a circle. As Brian Knapp himself
explains:
To reason in a circle is to assume the
very thing you are attempting to demonstrate. (Ibid., p. 126)
Knapp holds that circular reasoning "is just as
devastating as the arbitrariness of one who has no answer at all" (Ibid., p.
125), and thus any explanation of the uniformity of nature which incorporates
such fallacy is to be rejected.
In order to maintain a theistic "account for" the uniformity of nature here,
the only alternative to circular reasoning would be to commit the
fallacy of the stolen concept. This would be the case if the presuppositionalist denies that his proposed explanation of
the uniformity of nature is circular on the grounds that his god's creation of
the universe and maintenance of its consistent functioning is in effect causeless,
in an attempt to avoid invoking a law of nature - namely causality - as
the mechanism by which his god allegedly accomplishes its feat of sovereignty
over the universe. But this too is a dead end for the presuppositionalist,
for he is still affirming that the uniformity of nature throughout the universe
is the result of some action taken on the part of his god, and causality
is essentially the identity of action. The dead give-away here is that
the presuppositionalist is in fact naming the
actions of his god - specifically "creating" and "maintaining" its creation -
which result in nature being uniform. This would-be rebuttal, then, would in
effect affirm acts of creation and maintenance (i.e., actions which have
identity) while denying their genetic root, namely causality, of which
the actions which presuppositionalists attribute to
their god are merely species. Causality, it should be noted, is essentially
"the law of identity applied to action" (Ayn Rand, Atlas
Shrugged, Galt's Speech). To name an action (as the presuppositionalist does in his "account") is to
acknowledge that the action in question does in fact have identity.
Now the presuppositionalist may object to any of this
by insisting that the causality by which his god affects uniformity in nature
is not natural causality, but rather "supernatural causality," and
therefore that appeals to "supernatural causality" do
not presuppose or depend on the uniformity of nature as necessary precondition.
This maneuver assumes that there is, between causality as we know it (that is,
causality as a natural law - as "the law of identity applied to action") and
so-called "supernatural causality," some distinction which relevantly bears on
the issue at hand in a manner that is sufficient to alleviate the tensions
exposed above. It is thus incumbent upon the apologist who invokes this
disclaimer to explain this supposed distinction and make the case for immunity
to the charges of circular reasoning and/or the stolen concept fallacy. Indeed,
what exactly is "supernatural causality," and how is it different from natural
causality? If causality is essentially the law of identity applied to action,
and the presuppositionalist implicitly acknowledges
that the actions he attributes to his god ("creates" and "maintains") in fact
have identity (which he does simply by naming them), how are these
actions beyond the scope of natural law if by natural law we ultimately mean
that the law of identity applies? Blank out.
As suspected above, the solution which presuppositionalism
proposes does in fact seem to accomplish nothing more than to move the problem
back a step rather than actually addressing it (insofar as it can be said that
there is a problem here in the first place). By referencing "supernatural
causality" as opposed to "natural causality" as the means by which his god
allegedly created and maintains the order of the universe in a uniform manner,
the presuppositionalist is implying a uniformity of
"super-nature," especially in the claim that his god "maintains" (or
"sustains") the order of the universe, as this action would be continuous
(even if not eternal), rather than merely a single gesture. The apologist is
essentially saying that "supernatural causality" is today as it has been in the
past and will be in the future, thus presupposing a principle of uniformity
prior to nature. But what accounts for this uniformity of "super-nature" which
underlies the presuppositionalist's appeal to a god
in order to "account for" the uniformity of nature? Where is the presuppositionalist's "justification" for this principle of
uniformity on which his justification for order in the universe relies and
without which his "account" could have no philosophical substance?
Of course, since the presuppositionalist appeals to a
god as both the creator of the universe and as the sustainer of uniformity in
nature, he likely means by "supernatural causality" (or whatever motor he has
in mind behind the creating and sustaining his god is allegedly responsible
for) some form of conscious activity to make these things happen, as if
by wishing.
At the very least, the presuppositionalist should
make it explicitly clear whether or not he thinks that his god creates and
sustains by means of an act of consciousness, and if so, how we can distinguish
this act of consciousness from something akin to mere wishing. In other words,
the presuppositionalist needs to come clean about his
position's commitment to the primacy of consciousness in his "account for" the
uniformity of nature. Since an appeal to theism in order to account for the
uniformity of nature essentially signifies the view that the uniformity of
nature rests on the primacy of consciousness, it is this presupposition which
the presuppositionalist needs to justify. But this
would entail arguing for the view that the uniformity of nature finds its basis
in subjectivism: the uniformity of nature is the result of some conscious
action (see here
and here).
Some direct questions may help eliminate some of the presuppositionalist's
standard obfuscations:
1. Is nature uniform? (Yes or no)
2. If no, we would likely have an instance
of the fallacy of the stolen
concept, for a denial of the uniformity of nature would have to assume that
nature is uniform in order for that denial to make sense.
3. If yes , is
nature uniform independent of consciousness, or is nature's uniformity a
product of conscious activity?
4. If nature is uniform independent of
consciousness, the uniformity of nature cannot imply theism.
5. If it is thought that nature's
uniformity is a product of conscious activity, why suppose that such an overt
appeal to subjectivism is at all philosophically impressive?
Involved with the presuppositionalist
strategy is the tacit assumption that the principle of the uniformity of nature
is the end-all and be-all of induction, that the uniformity of nature is
equivalent to the so-called "inductive principle." (This habit is common
outside of presuppositionalist circles as well, which
is probably where presuppositionalists get it in the
first place.) If it can be proven that nature is uniform, so the implicit
reasoning goes, then induction is justified. Of course, this approach takes for
granted - and leaves completely uninvestigated - all the activity which the
human mind performs in the activity we call inductive reasoning. It rests all
of induction's validity on whether or not nature is uniform and how one
"accounts for" this. This tendency fails to recognize that while the uniformity
of nature is a metaphysical concern, the justification of induction is an epistemological
issue. Sadly, those who take the presuppositionalist
approach are missing much of the story.
Often coupled with this gaff is the inclination to think of natural laws as
phenomena that are in some way independent of the universe and to which the
universe must somehow adhere or conform in order for those laws to apply within
the universe and thereby serve as reliable principles upon which our reasoning
rests. This understanding itself has no objective basis, and in fact invites
the fallacies which typically accompany the primacy of consciousness. Implicit
in this view may be, for instance, the notion that the laws existed first, then
the contents of the universe, and then the contents of the universe (which on
their own would be utterly mired in chaos) are compelled by some external force
to comply with those laws. Presuppositional
apologetics seeks to exploit such assumptions by making the laws of nature
extra-universal, otherworldly, indeed "supernatural."
For instance, observe the following statement by Brian Knapp:
In the Christian's worldview, at least from
the Reformed perspective, laws are not so much "natural" as they are
"supernatural". They are an expression of the way in which God providentially
orders his creation, rather than something that is "built-in" which operate on
their own and independent from God. [sic] ("Induction
and the Unbeliever," The Portable Presuppositionalist,
p. 121n.4)
On Knapp's view, the natural laws describe "the
way in which God providentially orders his creation." But how would anyone be
able to acquire knowledge of "the way in which God providentially orders his
creation," if said "God" is a mind distinct from the believer's own mind?
As the believer imagines his god, his mind departs from reality in radical
fashion. When he ascribes the course of nature to the handling of a being which
he can only imagine, the believer ignores the constraints of rational
epistemology (which addresses the how of his knowledge), because he is
no longer speaking from knowledge, but from imagination. This is why the
believer can speak of "the way in which God providentially orders his creation"
as if he were intimately familiar with the universe of details which such
cosmic handling of the contents of the universe would entail. It essentially
represents the believer attributing what he takes completely for granted (and
does not understand philosophically) to the activity of a being which resides
only in his own imagination.
Objectivism does not share the view expressed by Knapp as it (Objectivism) does
not grant the assumption that the laws of nature are somehow independent of the
universe. I have already discussed at length the Objectivist axioms and their
role in anchoring human cognition to reality (see for instance my essay The Axioms and the Primacy of
Existence). But it may still be unclear how they relate to the laws of
nature.
Nor does Objectivism grant objective validity to the notion of the
"supernatural" (see here).
The laws of nature are not divine commands on the contents of the universe, nor
are they rules which the objects literally obey in an effort to remain in good
standing with "the Lord." On the contrary, the laws of nature are
conceptual integrations, and as such they are general identifications based on
perceptual input (as all concepts are ultimately). They represent discoveries
of facts which are integrated into open-ended principles which can be applied
to all particulars of a certain class. They do not originate from outside the
universe, for they are based on facts which obtain within the universe and
which are discovered and integrated by minds which also exist in the universe.
There is no "outside the universe"t exists), and there is what we imagine.
The Meaning of "the Uniformity of Nature"
But what specifically do we mean by the term "uniformity of nature"? Not all
conceptions of the uniformity of nature are created equal. Presuppositional
apologist Greg Bahnsen tends to conceive of the
uniformity of nature as "the resemblance between events that we have
experienced and events that we have not experienced" (Van Til's
Apologetic: Readings & Analysis, p. 342n.167), thus holding to an
"event-based" model in which "resemblance" (presumably, how something appears
to an observer) conjoins that which has been experienced with that which has
not been experienced.
On the one hand, Bahnsen's conception of the
uniformity of nature, given the central role he gives to "resemblance" and
"experience," does not lend itself very well to the supposition that nature is
uniform independent of conscious activity. The viewpoint of the observer seems
to have a lot of sway in the matter, and it needs to be clarified whether
uniformity in nature obtains independent of consciousness, or if conscious
activity is a preconditional consideration. Of
course, this does not concern Bahnsen, and making
such clarifications would likely be counterproductive to his apologetic ambitions.
On the other hand, Bahnsen's view seems conspicuously
well geared toward positioning apologists in the vantage of criticizing
opponents. For how can two things be said to share a "resemblance" unless (and
until) they can be compared side by side? And how can two "events" be compared side by side unless they have both already
occurred? But isn't that the whole point behind the principle of the uniformity
of nature - namely to provide an objective basis for expecting that
things which are not available to be compared to what has already been
experienced, will operate in a manner similar to what has been experienced?
Brian Knapp presents a somewhat different rendering:
Nature must proceed to operate according
to the same laws it has operated according to in the past - laws which
determine the effects which arise from a given cause or set of causes. (Op.
cit., p. 121)
Here we see the implicit notion that the contents
of the universe "obey" (either volitionally or by some means of compulsion) the
laws of nature, since it is "laws which determine the effects which arise from
a given cause or set of causes." If this is stated metaphorically, then
it may not be problematic. But if it is understood literally, it invites
the primacy of consciousness. Again, it is unclear on this conception whether
or not the uniformity of nature is understood to obtain independently of
consciousness, or if it is supposed to be something which is put into place by
means of conscious activity.
What's also noticeable in Knapp's statement here is that it seems absolute:
"Nature must proceed to operate according to the same laws it has
operated to in the past." The way that it is stated here does not seem to allow
for exceptions. This, we will find, is not what Christianity really teaches
when it comes to the uniformity of nature.
Both Bahnsen and Knapp ultimately agree, however,
that the Christian god is the proper (or "only") answer to the question "How do
you account for the uniformity of nature?" But in pointing to the Christian god,
believers are, in terms of essentials, claiming that the uniformity of nature
is a product of conscious activity. It seems, however, that by supposing there
is a consciousness which has the power to cause nature to be uniform, they are
also granting that said consciousness also has the power to cause (or "allow")
nature to be chaotic. Since "God controls whatsoever comes to pass" (Van Til, The Defense of the Faith, p. 160), Christianity
puts everything which takes place within nature entirely in the hands of a
supernatural mind which is imagined to be completely free from the constraints
of nature. Indeed, as the Christian worldview itself explicitly teaches,
miracles can and sometimes do happen. The water in your drinking glass can be
water one moment, and then magically transformed into merlot the next (cf. John
2:1-11). In the final analysis, since everything that happens is up to the will
of an invisible magic being, predictable outcomes are as much a crap shoot as
are miracles. As Knapp puts it, "In a very real sense, all events in the
universe are ultimately supernatural events as God is personally behind each
and every one of them" (Op. cit., p. 139). The believer, then, is to imagine
that his god is "personally behind each and every" event which occurs in the
universe, which can only mean - in the context of a worldview which takes such
imaginations seriously - that the uniformity of nature (to the extent that
nature is at all uniform in the first place) is the result of conscious
activity. In other words, the uniformity of nature, on the Christian view,
presupposes the primacy of consciousness.
Knapp's response to the objection that on the Christian view nature could be
chaotic as much as it is uniform, is that such objection could be "sound only if
[Christian theism] assumes that nature is absolutely uniform, which it does
not" (The Portable Presuppositionalist, p.
140). Indeed, by conceding that, on the Christian view, nature is not
absolutely uniform, then nature might as well not be supposed to be uniform at
all (since exceptions to uniformity are granted as legitimate possibilities),
and consequently all bets are off: there is no reliable basis for expecting
future events to "resemble" those of the past (which is the presuppositionalist's
own measure for understanding whether or not nature is uniform). The ruling
consciousness can make it such that glass shatters into dozens of broken shards
when struck with a hammer one moment, and that it turns into a flock of geese
under the same conditions the next. What Christian would deny its god the power
to bring about such outcomes? Indeed, they claim that their god is omnipotent
and can bring about any imaginable outcome. But how does this "account for" the
uniformity in nature which we observe on a constant basis? Blank out.
Once nature's "behavior" is placed in the hands of a consciousness which is
supposed to possess the power to "control whatsoever comes to pass," anything
can happen. Uniformity is a once-in-a-million chance. The fact that nature is
uniform, only demonstrates that there is no rational basis to put any stock in
the presuppositionalist's "account for" the
uniformity of nature which is clearly observed.
As one non-Christian succinctly put it:
I believe that there is consistency in the
universe because there is no god that has the power to mess with it. (See The
Contra-Pike Files, May 10, 2003)
Indeed, if there is no invisible magic being which
has the ability to manipulate the objects populating the universe according to
its will, the objects in the universe can be reasonably expected to behave in a
manner consistent with their own natures. In this way, the uniformity of nature
logically implies an alternative which is not theistic in nature.
The Objective Alternative
On the Objectivist view, the notion of the uniformity of nature seems to
be unnecessarily redundant.
Peikoff explains what is meant by the concept
"nature" as follows:
What is nature? Nature is existence - the
sum of that which is. It is usually called "nature" when we think of it as a
system of interconnected, interacting entities governed by law. So "nature"
really means the universe of entities acting and interacting in accordance with
their identities. (The
Philosophy of Objectivism, (1976) Lecture 2)
"Nature is existence," says Peikoff.
And he is right to say this. The uniformity of nature, then, is
existence being itself. As Rand succinctly put it, "Existence
is Identity" (Atlas Shrugged, Galt's
Speech). Nature is uniform with itself, since to exist is for
something to be itself. If A exists, it must be A.
The uniformity of nature, then, is essentially the applicability of the axiom
of existence to all of reality and the absolute (i.e., exceptionless) concurrence of identity with existence. Both
of these aspects of the uniformity of nature are undeniable - that is, they
cannot be denied without self-contradiction. Since reality is the realm
of existence, the axiom of existence necessarily applies to all of
reality. Since reality is the realm of existence, existence and identity
are concurrent absolutely - i.e., without exception.
In this way we can confidently say that nature is inherently uniform
(since existence exists, to exist is to be something, and nature, since it
exists, is therefore itself), and that it is such independent of
consciousness. Uniformity is not a property which consciousness injects
into nature, nor is it the manner in which consciousness regulates nature
since:
a) consciousness
does not regulate nature (the primacy of existence is true), and
b) nature is
self-regulating (per the law of identity).
Since nature is uniform independent of
consciousness (the primacy of existence tells us this), nature is uniform independent of any particular being's consciousness.
This means that, if consciousness is to know that nature is uniform, it must discover
this fact, not "create" or "cause" it. Uniformity is not a property
which consciousness gives to nature, nor is it something consciousness causes
in nature.
Moreover, since discovery is a process which begins with perception (i.e., with
direct awareness of objects which exist), one must discover the fact that
nature is uniform through experience. Man discovered, at least on an
implicit level, that nature is uniform long before he wrote any storybooks or
mused about what lies beyond the universe. Such activities presuppose the
uniformity of nature. So we need not consult some storybook to learn,
even on the level of implicit knowledge, that nature is uniform. This knowledge
would be accessible to us, even if we had no access to any storybooks. Reading
the bible, then, is no precondition for recognizing that nature is uniform with
itself.
Notice that this conception of the uniformity of nature is immune to the charge
of circular reasoning. For one, it is not an attempt to prove that
nature is uniform as the conclusion to an argument. Also, this conception of
the uniformity of nature does not make it dependent upon experience. Rather,
it's the other way around: experience depends on the uniformity of nature
(since experience, as the actual relation between a subject and the objects of
its awareness, exists and is therefore a part of nature, and thus has
identity), since experience is processional over time. It is not an appeal to
experience, but rather to the preconditions of experience as such.
Moreover, this conception of the uniformity of nature is impervious to the
standard attacks, common among presuppositional
apologists, which seek to defuse attempted justification of induction by
assuming that future experience will be like (or will "resemble") past
experience by appealing to past experiences. For one, it is forthrightly
acknowledged that this conception of the uniformity of nature does not tell the
whole story behind induction. The uniformity of nature is merely one of several
factors involved in induction. Also, the uniformity of nature is a precondition
not only of experience (as we saw above) but also of concepts designating
temporal categories (such as "past" vs. "future"). The fact of existence is
timeless, and consequently, so is identity.
Note that the Objectivist conception of the uniformity of nature is not an
appeal to "experience," but rather to the preconditions of any
experience, namely those facts named explicitly by the axioms, facts without
which no experience could be possible. Even to dispute the premise that nature
is uniform, itself requires the uniformity of nature in order to make sense of
the dispute in the first place.
Is the Uniformity of Nature a Matter of Faith?
As mentioned in the beginning of this blog, the uniformity of nature is not
itself subject to proof, for proof presupposes the uniformity of nature.
Attempts to prove the uniformity of nature would commit either the fallacy of
begging the question (by assuming the truth of what is to be proven) or the
fallacy of the stolen concept (by placing proof prior to its genetic roots).
This of course does not mean that one must accept the uniformity of nature on
faith. To suppose as much is to accept as false dichotomy: a claim can only
be accepted on the basis of proof, or on the basis of faith. This is not the
first time I've seen this bifurcation. In his review
of John Robbins' critique of Objectivism, philosopher Bryan Register
encounters this same mistake and offers an eloquent correction:
Robbins asserts that reason always relies
on faith: "Reason can never cease to be the handmaid of faith: All thought
must start somewhere, and that initial postulate is unproved, by definition... The only question that remains is, Which faith-which axiom-shall reason serve?" Since
Objectivism is grounded on a set of axioms, which are by definition unprovable, Robbins concludes that Objectivism rests on an
act of faith in those axioms. But this assumes that there are only two kinds of
claims: those one proves and those which one takes on faith. In fact, as the
Objectivist literature makes clear, there is a third type of claim: one which is
valid because it formulates a fact that is directly perceived. Such are the
most fundamental perceptual judgments and such are the axioms.
Uniformity, then, is not something we merely expect,
as if we had no rational basis, but something we actually observe.
However, it is typically when our expectations of certain outcomes are thwarted
that we question the validity of those expectations. But the cause for
questioning our expectations turns out not to be a cause for questioning the
uniformity of nature, not simply because investigating why our expectations
were thwarted uncovers factors which we were not aware of (and thus could not
factor into our expectations), but also (and primarily) because existence holds
metaphysical primacy. The recognition that factors which we did not know had an
influence on what actually happened, only confirms the more fundamental
recognition that nature is uniform independent of consciousness: those
factors exist and had their influence on the given state of affairs, even though
we were not aware of them. They had a causal impact on what occurred, and the
very concept 'cause' presupposes the law of identity (since, as pointed out
above, causality is the law of identity applied to action). So merely because
our expectations did not pan out, is not an indictment on the uniformity of
nature, nor on the objective understanding of the uniformity of nature.
Confusion in Presuppositionalism
Presuppositionalism essentially tells us that we
cannot know that nature is uniform (even though we observe a uniform nature
directly whenever we perceive it), but that we do and cannot fail to know
a god which allegedly lies behind the question mark which our worldview
allegedly produces when it comes to "accounting for" the uniformity of nature.
On this view, I can observe the uniformity of nature firsthand, and cannot know
that nature is uniform, while I cannot observe a supernatural deity, but
allegedly cannot escape the knowledge that it surely exists. This reversal of
reality creates a most hideous carnival out of man's epistemology.
But the confusion does not stop there.
Upon examination, it is difficult to see how Knapp's proposed solution to the
problem of induction actually solves it. In fact, it is unclear exactly how
appealing to the Christian god can serve as a serious proposal in the interest
of "accounting for" or providing a "logical justification" of the uniformity of
nature.
Knapp claims that the universe in which we live was created by a supernatural
conscious being, and that this supernatural conscious being "maintains it as we
find it to be" (The Portable Presuppositionalist,
p. 132). Even if one believes this, it in no way indicates that the universe is
being maintained in a uniform manner. It would only tell us that, however
the universe behaves, it is controlled by a supernatural conscious being. When
it is admitted that this same supernatural conscious being is capable of, and
known for, performing miracles - events which often (and overtly) go
against the standard understanding of uniformity in nature - it can only
undermine this approach as a means of "accounting for" uniformity: it
guarantees no uniformity whatsoever! On this view, any uniformity which happens
to obtain, is a fluke. Indeed, it is for this very reason that, after all his
promoting of Christian theism as the solution to the problem of induction,
Knapp concedes that Christian theism does not hold that nature is "absolutely
uniform" (p. 140).
To make matters even worse, the individual who "finds" the universe to be a
certain way when he observes and interacts with it, is dealing with only a
minuscule portion of the universe. On the Christian view, inferring that all of the universe is "maintained" in a uniform manner is a
wild overgeneralization, an extravagant leap of faith which Christian theism
itself does not afford any believer. If, for instance, the believer happens to
find that the tiny part of the universe with which he is familiar behaves in a
uniform manner, this in no way tells him that his god is maintaining the rest
of the universe in a uniform manner, or that any hypothetical uniformity in
other parts of the universe are uniform with the uniformity with which he is
familiar in his particular location. Given the premise that everything is controlled
by a supernatural being, it may be the case that in the believer's part of the
universe, balls uniformly roll over plane surfaces, while in another part of
the universe balls uniformly turn into marching bands upon impact with plane
surfaces. How would the believer in such a being know? Knapp gives no
indication of how the epistemological feats needed here might proceed.
But in spite of the self-undermining factors inherent in Christian doctrine, as
well as Knapp's own damning admission, he still thinks that the Christian
metaphysics of a universe-creating, reality-ruling consciousness addresses
Hume's philosophical conundrum, even though he points to additional weaknesses
native to his worldview which undermine inductive reasoning even further. He writes:
As simple as this solution seems, it
contains all the necessary elements to solve the problem. The areas in which
mankind fall short are all "made up for" in God. Man does not have exhaustive
knowledge of how the universe operates; God does. Man does not know whether the
features of the universe will continue to be as they are at present; God does.
Man can be mistaken in what he experiences and how he reasons from those
experiences; God is never wrong. ("Induction and the Unbeliever," The
Portable Presuppositionalist, p. 134)
Contrary to what he intends,
Knapp is simply giving us reasons why Christianity cannot give us any
confidence in the presupposition that nature is uniform throughout the
universe. He has in effect abandoned the problem of induction, which is
ostensibly the topic of his essay, and moved on to a new problem, namely that
of how one can know what a supernatural conscious being knows. It is of no
epistemological value for man to list things that he does not know, and then
point to a supernatural being which does have knowledge on these things. This
does not tell man how he can know what he needs to know in order to
live. It is epistemological self-deception to concede, on the one hand, that
one does not know something, only to claim, on the other, that this ignorance
is "made up for" by an imaginary
friend which is said to know everything. When it comes to the uniformity of
nature, Knapp demonstrates only that, on the Christian worldview, one could
have no confidence that nature is uniform. Everything is "whatever God wills,"
and unless the believer is identical to his god, he would have no way of
knowing what his god wills from moment to moment.
Moreover, on the points which he mentions, Knapp does not even tell us what
specifically his god supposedly knows about these matters. When Knapp states
that "Man does not know whether the features of the universe will continue to
be as they are in the present," but figures that the assertion "God does"
somehow makes up for this shortcoming, what exactly does his god know, and what
good does that do for man in his inductive investigation of the universe if he
cannot know it? Blank out. For all Knapp knows, his god could know that the
universe will turn inside out in the next second. But since Knapp's mind is not
identical to his god's mind, simply saying that his god knows something that he
does not know, is of no use to him or to anyone else,
particularly when it comes to answering Hume. On the contrary, Knapp's
attempted "solution" fully concedes that Christianity has no genuine solution,
not only because he fails to question Hume's own premises, but also because he
fails, due to his allegiance to a subjective worldview, to adopt an objective
approach to the matter in the first place. If Knapp proves anything, he proves
that Christianity can only intensify the epistemological darkness which Hume's
skepticism brought to the world.
Conclusion
The presuppositionalist
"account for" the uniformity of nature is a consummate dead end. It seeks to
premise the uniformity of nature on the primacy of consciousness, which is a
false metaphysics. Given this, it is incompatible with the objective
account of the uniformity of nature, which recognizes that nature is uniform
independent of conscious activity. Furthermore, the presuppositionalist
analysis is insufficient to overcome the destructive implications which
Christianity, with its doctrine of a supernatural being controlling the events
of the universe, the doctrine of miracles, its blinding absence of a serious
epistemology, etc., poses for the recognition that nature is uniform. By
aligning the uniformity of nature with the Christian worldview, presuppositionalism essentially signs its own death warrant
as a viable contender in providing an "account for" the one of the fundamental
pillars of a scientific understanding of the universe.