I’m independent, you’re on the fringe
Peter Hess, a Catholic theologian who is director of something called ‘the Faith Project’ at the National Center for Science Education (the what? at the where? yes, you read that correctly) recently said in a Washington Post ‘On Faith’ article (have we got enough name checks of faith yet?):
Too often, debates over the public perception of evolution are dominated by the fringes, by fundamentalist Christians and others who reject basic science due to their literal reading of the Bible and by ardent atheists who reject religion because they’ve embraced metaphysical naturalism ― that nature is all that exists. But the silent majority ― that spans the spectrum from theism to atheism ― have no problem reconciling their religious beliefs with established sciences such as evolution.
Spoken like a true journalist, theolgical credentials notwithstanding. Yes right: atheists who decline to believe in supernaturalism are waaaaaaaay out there on the freaky fringe of extreme maniacal militant crazy as a bag of rats fringe, while all the nice, normal, sensible, mainstream, average, just like you and me people are here in the middle smiling and agreeing that everyone can have an activist god who answers prayers and sciency stuff like evolution. It’s only lunatics who say anything else. That’s the way to frame things! Just declare your own view Normal and then describe two views that differ from yours as fringey-extreme.
Chris Mooney is full of approbation of this tawdry gambit.
I heartily agree–my sense, too, is that the silent majority doesn’t side with either of the extremes.
See? There you have it again. Those other views are Extreme, while good decent family-oriented views are silent majority middle and Good.
[I]n the science blogosphere, we don’t hear a lot from the “silent majority.” Rather, and admittedly with some important exceptions, we hear from the New Atheists.
Whom it is important always to refer to by an epithet of some sort and treat as a bloc. At any rate – it doesn’t seem to occur to Mooney that the reason for the silence of the ‘silent majority’ in the science blogosphere is that the putative extreme has a better case than does the putative silent majority. It ought to occur to him.
Jerry Coyne is not as impressed by Peter Hess as Mooney is.
As I’ve maintained repeatedly, religion is neither set up for finding truth nor very good at finding truth. Let me correct that — faith is incapable of finding truth, or at least no more capable than is astrology. The methods of ascertaining “truth” via faith are either revelation or acceptance of dogma. These methods have produced “truths” like a 6,000-year-old Earth and the Great Flood. Not a very good track record. In fact, I have yet to find a single truth about humans, Earth, or the universe that has come uniquely from faith.
Same here. I’ve tried – I really have – as I mentioned the other day, I asked the Templeton shill exactly that question:
What exactly do you ‘believe’ that the world’s religious traditions have to contribute to understanding human experience and our place in the universe? Can you specify one theory or explanation or bit of evidence that a religion has contributed to understanding human experience and our place in the universe?
But the Templeton shill didn’t answer.
Jerry Coyne says this matters.
In all these debates about the compatibility of science and faith, I have yet to see an intellectually respectable answer to this ultimate dichotomy between “ways of knowing.” Instead, people like Mooney go after us for our tone, for polarizing people, and so on…Instead of beefing about our “militancy,” why don’t accommodationists start addressing the question of whether faith can tell us anything that’s true? Let’s hear about whether you can coherently accept a Resurrection on Sunday and then go to the lab the next day and doggedly refuse to accept any claim that lacks evidence. Now that would raise the tone of this debate.
Mooney does, at last, give a straightforward answer.
I don’t believe that faith can tell us anything true, or at least, anything that we can reliably know to be true. I don’t think we can know anything except based on evidence. In this I’m in full agreement with Coyne, Dennett, Dawkins, and all the rest.
Well done. But then he veers off into a false choice.
I don’t see a need to pry into how each individual is dealing with these complicated and personal matters of constructing a coherent worldview…I know that many very intelligent people are struggling all the time to make their peace with this incongruity in their own way–a peace that works for them. And so long as they’re not messing with what our kids learn–or, again, trying to ram their views down our throats–then good on ‘em.
But that’s a false choice, because anti-accommodationists also don’t see a need to pry into how each individual is dealing with epistemology; that’s not the issue; as has been pointed out a thousand times, the issue is what it is reasonable and fair and useful to talk about in public. It’s not a question of grabbing every American over the age of ten for an inquisition on beliefs, it’s a question of writing and discussing and debating in public fora. As has been pointed out a thousand times, Jerry Coyne didn’t break Ken Miller’s door down to challenge him, he reviewed a book for a magazine – a book that Miller himself wrote. This isn’t private, this isn’t prying into people’s heads, it’s public discourse. It’s not fringe public discourse, it’s just public discourse. We’re allowed to do that.
Update: see Russell Blackford’s comments @ 128, 129, 138. Beware of the oceans of Anthony McCarthy you have to wade through to get there.
Update 2: see Russell’s post on the subject.
To be frank, on the basis of the evidence presented, I think Russell has gone too far in his characterization of Mooney.
From what I can tell, Mooney advocates cooperative discourse. He did not tell people to “shut up”. At worst, he implied that people should not be jerks.
Sometimes the former follows from the latter, but it’s forgivable in a sense. When I tell someone directly, “Don’t be a jerk”, and the situation is massively inappropriate, then I suppose you can see how people would interpret that as being silencing. Suppose I were some mischievous prankster who jumped out of the bushes, found a peaceful couple having a picnic, and accused them of both being jerks. This action is not a secret code that means, “Shut up”. Rather, if it’s silencing, it’s only silencing because it introduces me as a creature to be afraid of, and who will be provoked without seemingly any identifiable reason. In this worst case scenario, that isn’t a point to be debated, since reasons cannot be identified, and debates demand an exchange of reasons. Rather, it’s a cause for an end of the conversation with the accuser — a cold shoulder forgiveness, but forgiveness nonetheless.
And sometimes an admonition is unforgivably silencing. People can interpret absolutely anything as silencing, including the mere expression of an opposite opinion. There is no balm that will soothe these souls. And I would be lying if I said that I don’t feel a strong obligation to rain the fires of white hot hell down upon them, in some part because there is a rank hypocricy in use the language of silence to silence a conscientious interlocutor. But it’s extremely difficult to find pure examples of these cases, short of some po-mo dreck.
And finally, sometimes an admonition is not at all silencing. We have to take it for granted that people are full of anxieties that are hard to understand on first blush, and they’re usually based on (good or bad) reasons. That makes it appropriate to forgive their attempts to manage the conversation in most cases through the use of admonitions, so long as the manifest aim is to exchange reasons for reasons. What’s happening in this case, it seems to me, is even more milktoasty: Mooney just presented the norms and let them speak for themselves.
The worst wrinkle — relevant in this case — while both of us want to keep the conversation going, we invent slights against each other in order to keep the fires burning. The technical term for this, I believe, is “drama” (or it ought to be). This is good fun for those involved, but fairly boring for those on the sidelines. It’s like slapstick without any slaps or sticks.
Anyway, I’ve had enough of the drama, let’s go back to saving the world.
Well, for one thing, even accepting that version, ‘he implied that people should not be jerks’ when they weren’t in fact being jerks.
But for another thing he has said versions of ‘shut up’; I’ve just been spelling some of them out at his place and at Russell’s.
Sure, the drama is boring if you’re bored by it – so just turn a blind eye!
Cross-posted from Russell’s blog:
I must admit that I do live a boring life these days. We’ll see if that pays off or if it gets me into trouble.
If Mooney’s advice is redundant and accusatory (which I think is our most unflattering interpretation of him), that would then make Mooney (or, Forrest, then Mooney) akin to the creep in the park, and Coyne et al are like the befuddled lovers. But then the befuddled lovers can just say, “Um, am not”, and that’s the end of the matter.
Naturally, I don’t happen to have this interpretation of Mooney’s remarks, at least on the basis of what I’ve read so far. But I’m open to correction, since I don’t claim to know everything that everyone has said. Blogs go on forever.
Still, I do worry that the claim about “censorship”, made recently by Coyne, seems over the top, especially when the former’s strongest claim in light of the relevant passages seems to be that neither he nor anyone else (myself included) understands what Mooney is asking him to do. (June 28, 7:03am) Given the vanishingly small distance between the substantive positions that are at issue — Mooney himself can’t exactly be accused of being an accomodationist, after all, and Coyne’s review isn’t exactly a trip to Six Flags for the bellicose — perhaps we might even have reason to believe that *Mooney* doesn’t know what Mooney wants Coyne to do. That would be more or less at the heart of the matter, and touches upon Josh’s suggestion, that Mooney’s review of Coyne was glib, ill considered, and unhelpful. As a kind of practice in reverse-charity, we shouldn’t invent malign uses where there’s a void of usefulness.
We have lots of reason to suppose that Mooney doesn’t know what he wants anyone to do – but that doesn’t stop him accusing people of various things at frequent intervals. So I’m not sure what you’re arguing.
And by the way what’s this censorship claim made by Coyne? I don’t see that on the main page at least.
I’m arguing one thing, and the other thing I’m asking for evidence.
My argument is that it’s not anything like censorship for Mooney-Forrest to claim that Coyne is behaving badly (even when Coyne is behaving like a normal scholar engaged in ordinary debate). Rather, it’s a display of poor judgment on the part of Mooney-Forrest, because it doesn’t seem like they took much care with Coyne’s article.
Given that, M-F can be rightfully condemned for their editorial for expressing empty conceit. They cannot be condemned for being censors. Analogously, Wittgenstein’s final proposition in the Tractatus advised us to be quiet when it comes to some range of linguistic activity. But it would be absurd to say that Wittgenstein was a censor in any meaningful sense of the term. Advocacy of self-censorship on some range of linguistic activity is not censorship at all — it’s just an “ought” claim, like any other. If I tell you that you ought to run in place for five minutes, I have not forced you to do so; you can just tell me to buzz off.
Here is the relevant passage from Blackford, quoted on Coyne, where we’re supposed to draw the inference that Coyne is being told to quiet down: “[Forrest] said that “secularists should not alienate religious moderates” and gave Coyne’s book review as an example of alienating the these people. If that is not telling someone to shut up, I don’t know what is.” Clearly Forrest thinks that Coyne has engaged in some kind of activity that ought not be replicated.
To be sure, if Forrest meant to say “every time Coyne et al. wants to speak in this way/have this opinion, he should not be”, then in some sense it would be effectively telling him to tell himself to “shut up” with respect to changing his manner or content of speech. But this would be in no way distinct from simple disagreement. When I say, “Your opinion is wrong” to a Republican, I am not telling them to shut up; I am telling them they are in error. By implication, I might be supposed to be advising them that they ought to direct themselves to another opinion, but there’s no force to the locution.
Still, the thrust of the M-F criticism had such a fussy etiquette theme to it that I doubt it was supposed to be taken as an attack on content at all, but rather, was cloaked as an attack on manners. Moreover, as you point out, so far their replies in terms of substance have been strawmen. So we have every evidence to believe they’re just confused, and so, may either be ignored or critiqued. But the critiques should be fair and proportionate. Calling them “censors” in anything but a playful manner is unfair.
But what’s that got to do with my post? Very little that I can see.
Not much, except to the extent that posting here is an avenue for looking at their exchange at a distance. I could easily crosspost I suppose.
Sorry, I missed your second post above. Coyne approvingly links to Blackford’s argument re: censorship in “Accomodationism: onward and downward”.
Ben, I still don’t see how Chris Mooney – via his enthusiastic approval of views he attributed to Barbara Forrest – did not call on us to engage in self-censorship.
Forrest, as represented by Chris, was clearly saying that some kinds of things (the kinds of things said by Jerry Coyne in The New Republic) should not be written or said, not because they are incorrect but because they alienate supposedly moderate Christians. Chris gave Forrest’s (or should I say “Forrest”‘s?) views enthusiastic support.
Disagreeing with a view is not the same as saying that that view is one of the things that should not be said. I seem to recall disagreeing with at least part of what Jerry Coyne wrote myself. I even quibbled a little on his blog IIRC (I’m too lazy to go and check this, however; it’s just possible that I’m confusing it with something else). But disagreeing with something, wholly or in part, then giving your reasons for disagreement, is NOT the same as saying that the something should not be said on the ground that it alienates allegedly moderate religionists. Why is that distinction so difficult to understand?
On a couple of occasions, Chris has written as if we think he wants to censor us – perhaps by exercising state power. But I’m not aware that anyone has ever made such an accusation. In my post yesterday, I was at pains to spell out that I wasn’t saying that, but his post in reply again blathered on about how he wasn’t doing that, as if I’d claimed he was. Again, it is annoying having to worry that people now think I’ve accused Chris of something I’ve never accused him of or even dreamt of accusing him of.
One thing that gets very irritating is constantly having views attributed to me that I don’t have, have never had, and have never expressed. E.g., I have never expressed the view that when you defend science you must say that it is incompatible with religion. That is a bizarre view in my opinion, and I don’t hold it. Have never held it. Have never expressed it. But even John Wilkins, whom I consider a friend, has recently said that that is the position of the camp with which I’m publicly identified. Where on earth do these ideas come from?
There’s so much misinformation and distortion around that it becomes very frustrating. I seem to spend most of my time these days attempting to clear up misconceptions and false accusations in the blogosphere, when I’d really rather think and talk about more substantive issues.
Chris now writes as if he was just giving atheists good advice on how to present their case persuasively. But that is clearly not what “Forrest” said. “Forrest” was not offering advice on presenting the atheist position effectively. Indeed, one of “her” sub-points was about not arguing for atheism because we can’t prove God doesn’t exist. Chris agreed with “her” entire position.
Still, if Chris’s views have changed that is at least a welcome development.
Russell, thanks for the note. It’s a bit late here so I’ll review Forrest and Mooney again tomorrow. My thoughts so far have been restricted to the section quoted above in this thread. (My posts here on B/W are somewhat more extensive and slightly more muddled than what I posted on your blog, which was briefer and pointed.)
Frustration is quite understandable, especially in an area where there is no consensus on terms, as your recent exchange with Wilkins illustrates. Oh well.
Sigh. That’s what happens when one conversational partner (Russell, or Ophelia, etc.) wants to be clear and honest, but another conversational partner (Chris Mooney, etc.) has a vested interest in maintaining deniability. I know you’re straining not to accuse Mooney of being slippery, but. . .?
I wish my view weren’t that cynical, but it is. It just seems so transparent that some participants in this discussion are keen to get at the meat of the subject, to hash it out, while others are very interested in protecting the political capital they’ve earned in the circles in which they run. I’m sorry – well, I’m not, really – if that sounds too bald-faced and confrontational, but it seems to be true.
Russell,
“But disagreeing with something, wholly or in part, then giving your reasons for disagreement, is NOT the same as saying that the something should not be said on the ground that it alienates allegedly moderate religionists. Why is that distinction so difficult to understand?”
Mere disagreement is indistinguishable from advice in a conversation when the subject of the disagreement is strategy for conversational behavior, which seems to be the case here. And presumably neither the subject of a disagreement nor advice concerning some matter (in this case, the same thing) by themselves capture the force of an imperative statement like “shut up”.
Your argument that this is not a matter of giving advice, but is something more pernicious, rests on the “humility” sub-claim. But where do you find the force of an imperative like “shut up”? And if there is no imperative, only a run of the mill ought-claim, how do you justify a reading of the passage or post as a recommendation of self-censorship as opposed to a botched and clumsy attempt to persuade you to persuade yourself?
Sigh.
As I’ve pointed out what seems like about ten times in various places – Mooney put it more strongly than a mere ‘ought-claim’ – like so:
“Religion is a very private matter, and given that liberal religionists support church-state separation, we really have no business questioning their personal way of making meaning of the world.”
“We really have no business” is stronger than “we shouldn’t.” It’s closer to “we mustn’t” than to “we shouldn’t.”
Interesting interpretation. Assuming it is accurate, I’m curious to see how far you’re willing to take it.
Modal terms do not usually stand alone. When we say this or that is necessary, in the sense of sine qua non, it is often dependent upon however we qualify it. So we talk about things being “physically necessary”, “logically necessary”, and so on. The imperative and “must not” might be close in meaning to a command, or might not be, depending on how you construe the force of necessity in “must”. So we have “prudentially necessary”, “morally necessary”, and so on.
If you construe the modal operator as meaning “on threat of this or that personal consequence”, then it would be like an imperative. It seems like a contractarian sense of necessity to me: the force derives from a claim about your own wellbeing. Do this, or suffer sanctions, red hot pokers, etc. If you construe it as meaning “or else you’re being a jerk”, then it seems like a contractual sense of necessity: the force derives from a claim about general standards open to rational review, which can be argued. Do you agree or disagree that there is a difference in force between these uses? If you agree, then which do you think is more fitting in this case? Or do you reject my assessment wholesale — and if so, why?
Agree, but think neither is fitting; the must is a moral must. In any case I said it was closer, not that it was the equivalent. The salient phrase is ‘we have no business’ – which I consider a quite peremptory moral demand. That can be a downright offensive turn of phrase in some contexts. Consider: ‘You have no business asking me that.’ That coming from a friend or acquaintance would be a very strong rebuke, likely to result in a feeling of shame (or anger in default of shame).
I see. I could understand it if the force were contextual with respect to relationships. I know that if I had put a great deal of thought and effort into an article, as Coyne did, and was treated by an ostensible ally with careless cynicism, then I’d likely be frustrated. If that were the case, then I’d not be able to have a vantage point for any further opinion or comment.