May 16th, 2007
Between the Romans and the Lions
The other day I had an Astronomy Cast fan send me an email asking where I fall on the Dawkin’s Continuum. He was referring to the belief scale that Richard Dawkins laid out in his new book, The God Delusion
Over the years, I have encountered more than one scientist who expressed a belief that anyone with a functional brain can not believe in God. I have had loud tall men get in my face, informing me from uncomfortably close proximity that a belief in a God, especially a Christian God, meant a person had failed at learning reason, at learning logic, and at learning every other skill necessary to be a good scientist. “How can a good astronomer possibly believe in a God?” he asked me in a loud and incredulous voice. This person, and every other evangelical atheist who has ever attacked someone who failed to not believe fervently enough, was a 7 on the Dawkins scale.
Over my life, I have encountered more than one Christian who expressed a belief that anyone with an observant eye can not help but believe in God. I have had fiery matrons get in my personal space, informing me with uncomfortable passion that failing to believe in God, especially a Christian God, meant a person had failed to notice all the improbabilities that defy science, had failed to notice all the times an unnamed need was fulfilled in the 11th hour, and had failed to notice the strength of prayer to change lives. “How can a person truly be observant and fail to believe in God?” these people have asked in a 1000 different forms. These incredulous believers are 1s on the Dawkins scale.
Those 7s had looked at a cross I used to wear around my neck, and they had gone on the attack. I never really got it until one of my kind office mates, after watching me get harassed, asked me why I wore something that was such a symbol of hate. I had never thought of it that way, but…
But those 1s had looked at my love of astronomy and science and had seen me as an enemy without ever asking, “What do you believe?” How often has that happened? How many scientists have been attacked just for stating the principles of science in the wrong company?
Both that cross I used to wear (before realizing some saw it as a symbol of hate) and my constant promotion of science make me an enemy in certain circles.
So, when faced with this listener question, I paused, didn’t answer real fast, and eventually responded, “I’m a 2, why do you ask?”
And I have to wonder, why does anyone ask within the context of science? I am a strong proponent of the scientific method. For something to be called good science, it must explain past observations, and make unique predications that add something to our understanding of the universe. In order for me to say with certainty that something is true and real, it needs to be observable, repeatable, and documentable.
I’m a skeptic.
But, I believe there is room in the universe for a God. And this is an uncomfortable place to be. Between the Romans and Daniel’s lions, I wonder who I should fear more?
This is one of my concerns with the current skeptic’s movement. Just as the Christian’s look at me and assume by my vocation that I need saved (really, I don’t), I fear that many skeptics assume that everyone in their midst is a 6 or a 7 on the Dawkin’s scale. In the land of “I don’t know,” it is a dangerous thing to assume any absolutes. Even Dawkin’s, a self proclaimed 6, leaves room for God. The facts are out, and as a Skeptic, I can say “I believe there is room for a God, and I choose to fall on the ‘I think the odds are more in favor of God than against’ side of the betting pool.” I’m calling odds without having a test for my theory. That’s not science, it’s belief. There are also people who believe in string theory. I suspect that there are even people who believe in string theory and in a God or Gods.
It is in the land of absolute’s where we get ourselves into trouble when discussing non-testable, or not yet tested, theories. This is a tricky dance. I am perfectly comfortable saying with 100% certainty that my human husband can not have his head cut off and survive. (Note, I love him a lot. He just has a head cold and wishes someone would cut his head off). This is a statement based on (someone else’s) past observations and a lot of medical knowledge regarding how the brain and heart must be attached for a person to live. I am not comfortable saying with absolute certainty that if a crazed individual sneaks into our house and cuts off my husband’s head, his ghost won’t periodically race up the stairs after me. I don’t think it will happen, but I leave room for doubt and testing. James Randi style testing. And despite knowing my house is old enough that at some point someone must have died in it, I never worry about what is creaking. There is a place and a time for absolutes. And there is a time to say, the statistics based on prior null results are so far against you that it is close to certain there is nothing there, but there is room to be wrong because we may not have done the right tests (it is just really unlikely!).
Of course statements like this, which leave room for ghosts, drive some skeptics crazy. But, can we say for certain there aren’t? All we can really say is we have no reason to believe there are: no facts, no tests, and no theories that require them, the way the hard to find neutrino was required.
And there are middle grounds where we are a test away from certainty, but those tests, like so many Mythbusters episodes, aren’t believed in the face of Urban Legends that just must be true. For instance, I am allowed to say with certainty that a slotted spoon holds no broth but can catch the potato.*
Although chicken isn’t cheap this year, I’m not worried about having to pay out.
And that just ticked off some ghost believers, some soul believers. But I believe in equally annoying the absolute believers.
What can I say - I’m a skeptic.
I’m a skeptic who would love to be proven wrong.
And yes, I’m a skeptic who believes in God. I’m a 2. Why must you ask?
An evangelical christian once told me that being agnostic is even worse than being an athiest as far as his church is concerned. I thought that odd, but I guess it’s easier to combat the opposition if they also deal in absolute beliefs.
I once got chewed on for getting frustrated with a “the world is only 8000 years old” person and trying to teach her the science behind an old unierse. The person doing the chewing told me the person who I was inflicting science on had a faith based on absolutes (absolute certainty in God, absolute certainty the Bible is literal, absolute beleif that even Job was an actual person and not an allegory). By trying to get her to believe dinosaurs didn’t simply not fit on the ark, I was shaking an absolute, and in fact she took my pleas to look into carbon-dating as me telling her God wasn’t an absolute. I was shaking her faith.
A willow tree bends in the wind. The oak breaks. Things that are too brittle and too stiff can’t adapt to new forms and new data. An agnostic can go “Oh, thats nice, but I’m still not laying bets on your side. I still have my doubts.” A 100% certain athesist might break.
Just wanted to pop in to say “What a great post.”
So, I’ll say it.
What a great post.
I think it’s sad you feel compelled to stop wearing the necklace. But, I suppose, it’s sort of like when I see a Confederate flag — I think they’re symbols of hate. I don’t see the cross as a symbol of hate, but I guess other people don’t see the Confederate flag as a symbol of hate.
Well, I don’t know exactly where I’m going with this, so I’ll just stop.
Thanks again for the thoughtful post.
I think it’s good that listeners don’t know where we stand on that issue. It shouldn’t have anything to do with a sense of wonder and enjoyment with the Universe. You’re a 2, I’m a 6.5, and we get along just fine.
Beautiful post. I had to stop listening to skeptic podcasts for the reason that they seem to all be #7s and had no room in their world-view for anyone who was anything below #7.
Great post, but more importantly a very brave one. Not many people declare themselves, unless they are 1’s or 7’s it seems. I find intolerance and hypocrisy on both sides of this debate just about daily.
Thanks from a fellow “2″.
The statement that “Even Dawkin’s, a self proclaimed 6, leaves room for God.” is problematic at its absolute best. Anyone that has spent any time reading or listening to Dawkins knows that if he leaves any room for God it is merely a function of probability rather than a matter of practical application. As noncommittal as your post is, it would still be enough to prompt a pompous jeer or two from the old chap.
Fraser, a 6.5? Come one, The only plausible reason anyone would neglect that last lonely .5 of a point is to insure they won’t be labeled among the “loud tall men”. Go for it, grab that extra .5 and run!
Well, the way Pamela described it, a 7 is someone who’s certain that there is no God. For me, there’s no evidence for it, and plenty of evidence against it, but if new evidence presents itself, I’m happy to change my mind. Peg me at a 6.99 then?
You believe there to be no evidence whatsoever for the existence of God? None? Not one iota? I think I feel worse for the poor .01 point than I did for that lonely .5
I dig this post.
Sorry to come along at such a late stage of the game, but I guess I would probably be somewhere near Fraser. To me, all evidence provided shows me no evidence of a god, therefore I don’t believe one to exist. Give me evidence otherwise, and I’ll be right there with you.
I also say good post.
I’m best described as a Christian that struggles, but realizes that if there were no God, life would be completely pointless what will all the pain and suffering in the world. So 2 would best describe me.
My opinion regarding science and God is that I take the position of God is almighty and all-powerful, and he can do whatever the heck he wants, and that’s probably the best argument to a so-called 1.
Remember that 500 or so years ago, the 1’s were the people that thought Galileo was a heretic cause he made a telescope that could see four moons of Jupiter and in one fell swoop destroyed the belief that Earth was the center of the universe. Christianity did not die because of Galileo, obviously. The Christian lesson in that is that one should not base their belief in God and his son on a bunch of rocks floating in the sky.
For a 7 (or 6.99), I recommend the book “The Case for Christ”, written by a former atheist that did a scientific study (archaeologically, historically) on Jesus. There are also later books “The Case for Faith” and “The Case for a Creator”, however I’ve not read them so I can’t comment on them.
Good posts. I’ve always thought that the cross symbolizes Christianity and that this religion is one of peace and love. The fact that some use it to espouse hate (or that others believe that those persons actually represent the true religion of Christianity) shouldn’t disuade one from having a conversation about it with those who are offended by its perceived message. Anyway, I’m as logical as can be and think astronomy and science are fascinating. I, like Pamela, agree that there’s room for God to exist with all we know today. We all must agree that we don’t know and may never know (with our limited brains/computers) what is actually present before us in the universe, especially if one starts trying to wrap the brain around string theory and other crazy thoughts to explain what we think we observe. I guess I don’t know why scientists think it’s important to try to empiricallly rule out God, especially taking into account the human condition (i.e. we’re not totally rationale nor will ever be regardless of strides in science). What’s the point? Open to hearing suggestions.
Hi, Pamela! What a thoughtful, courageous post for a scientist to write!
I discovered Astronomy Cast after attending several of your talks at Dragon Con, and I eventually discovered your blog through the podcast page. And tonight I can’t sleep (damned coffee!).
The belief/non-belief debate has always intrigued and befuddled me. Folks seem to be talk past each other, as if their perceptions are turned 90 degrees from one-another and they are each asserting where they stand on the x-axis. They are those blind men arguing about an elephant.
So the Dawkins scale makes no sense to me.
When the evangelists of either side of this debate come at me, demanding my affiliation, I sometimes get a little snarky and describe myself as a deeply Christian atheist. This generally confuses and offends the evangelist, but it’s as truthful as I can be inside the space of a soundbite. It’s kinda tight in there.
If the evangelist doesn’t simply reject my answer and walk away, they’ll generally tell me it’s impossible to take both positions. “Tell that to Dr. Schrödinger.” (Hey, I’m a cheeseball, and it’s still a good line.)
When one sets out to measure a person’s belief in God, isn’t it useful to first agree on the idea of this “God” thingy? If we are going to talk about the tallest mountain in the world, shouldn’t we agree on what we mean by “tallest?” Most distant firmament from the center of the Earth? (Kilimanjaro) The highest peak measured from its base? (Hawaii?) The highest point above sea level? (Everest) Yadda.
Do I believe in God, meaning a robed fellow with a beard and a staff, who lives up in the sky and calls my haircut an abomination? Nah. Some mystical energy force that lives in the gaps of science, insisting that absence of evidence is evidence of absence? Uh-uh. Aliens, so far advanced beyond us as to be indistinguishable from gods? Nope. A invisible flying wad of noodles? Haw!
Much like the imaginary rubber mat table that physicists use to illustrate the effects of gravitational distortion, I find my heartfelt Christiananity to be a useful way to understand a reality that my mind cannot easily grasp directly. But I am careful not to confuse the model with the reality. That guy with the beard is just a model built to help us understand a larger concept. The cathedrals and tiny missions that I love to explore are constructs of allegory. The holy texts that we debate ad naseum are the shadows from Plato’s Parable of the Cave. They help us understand the world beyond our sight, but they are not that world.
It’s sort of like, if we could completely understand God, God would not exist. God doesn’t exist. God is.
…Hey, I think I’m channeling Kazantzakis! Ever read _The Saviors of God_? Pretty cool stuff. It’s a short little book, but it flipped my lid pretty good when I first read it. Still does.
Okay. It’s getting late and my brain’s getting weird. (Getting?) And I really should get some shut-eye. Thanks very much for giving me something to blather on about on a sleepless evening, hope I didn’t track up th’ blog too much. (Danged Internet rabble!)
The Neptune podcast was terrific, BTW. I really enjoy what you, Fraser and Rebecca put together each week. Y’all really brighten up my work week.
Keep up the great work!
HI Pamela,
I just want to say that you are really brave and really admire you for that. In this world, specially the one you are immersed in (of the skeptical ones because of belief of because of their job) it is very difficult to be yourself.
Interesting conversation. I believe in God and consider that belief to be a central part of my life. I am not certain how useful the 1-7 scale is because there is no real certainty even in science because none of us really knows absolutely that our physical senses give us an accurate representation of reality. We still have Plato’s caves, and we cannot know that what we see or experience is real. We have to operate with some assumptions about reality. One being that our observations are accurate. I operate under the assumption that my experience of God is real. I cannot prove it, nor can I prove the opposite, but my life experience tells me that God is real.
I must admit I have never heard of anyone describing a cross as a symbol of hate. I know it only as a symbol of love. I am sorry that some have distorted its meaning, but I will not allow them to determine what the meaning is for me. James
It’s in the Bible, “Seek and you shall find.” It’s also in the heavens we so vigilantly observe. I “choose” to believe in God, and even though I’m not sure God exists, I believe God “wants” us to understand His/Her/Its creation. I feel that God wants us to understand so badly, that He/She/It is willing to put up with Atheist-Nazis and Religio-Nazis, belief and non-belief, Science and Religion.
One day, I believe a scientist, an atheist scientist, is going to mathmatically validate the existence of God. And it will come as no surprise to that scientist.
It’s a shame God can’t be separated from religion so the question could be examined without everyone grabbing their chosen goal post. What is about we humans that we can’t just have opinions. Seems like every question is approached competitively, as though we’re choosing teams in a football game. Is that competitiveness a biological thing, connected to our being critters, or just because we’re stupid? That’s the sort of thing this non-scientist ponders.
Was raised as a 1, spent much of my life as a 5-6, in middle age am a 0 or a 100. I’ve come to believe we are probably an infinitesimal piece of a life form so different than we that it’s improbable we’ll ever be able to even conceive of it. No more than cells in my toe can conceive that they’re components in one of 10 toe universes, that are in turn components in one of 2 foot universes, connected to leg universes, and part of a creature that calls itself a human. Until my toe cells know they’re part of a human, and have some fairly concrete concept of what a human is, there’s not much value in them arguing about who made them, because it’s not a question they can hope to answer. If I could communicate with them I’d have to give them the bad news that while I’m pretty sure about my parents, grandma was vulnerable to fast talking fellows at the factory where she worked as a young woman, so grandpa’s identity is a little iffy.
I realize my belief is non supportable, not worth even a snort from scientists, but it works for me and seems ever more plausible with passing time. I see a pattern in things that tells me it’s highly unlikely that even a collection of universes constitutes a Big Cheese. Every thing is a little part of a bigger thing that is a little part of a bigger thing, and so on. And mostly those things don’t know much about each other.
I ponder the idea of our host herding us into behavior that is in its best interest. The message in many legends can be summarized that it’s a bad idea to harm one another and a good idea to mate, make and raise strong babies who will do the same. Isn’t that the behavior we humans oftentimes require of cells, and use medicine to bring about? Who is to say that the bible, fables, legends, etc. are not methods of behavioral modification in some way instigated by our host? Or by its host?
So then I wonder whether the bible was administered as part of a daily maintenance program, like a vitamin, or in response to a modest discomfort, like indigestion, or as a fire fighting effort, a kind of chemotherapy. Is our host healthy? If I consume too many iron supplements, I’m likely to become constipated. If our host consumed an overly large dose of religion, would it become constipated? Did the Reformation come about because our host took a laxative? Not trying to be irreverent here, my curiosity is genuine
Bravo! Thanks for that.
I would place myself around a 2 also, and have long felt that scripture and science are quite compatible. In my view, scripture tells “why” things happen, while science deals with the “how”. It’s only when the religionists start trying to read too much into “the length of a day” and such nonsense (or, perhaps, just get bored with the “why” and think it should be about “how” as well) that all the us v. them hoopla gets going, and all hell breaks loose. (What’s the analogy on the science side?)
(Regarding Christian theology, I’ve heard it rumored that folks of Jewish faith generally get a chuckle about how literally some Christians want to read Genesis.)
Dave
Most of the posters should also believe in all of the world’s religions, Christianity is only 1.
If we crave some cosmic purpose, then let us find ourselves a worthy goal.
– Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot
Dear Pamela,
First of all thank you–and Fraser, of course–for a great podcast. I only discovered it some months ago, so I’m still catching up.
Second: I applaud you for making this page on your website. The debate on the roles that science and religion take is a significant one, and anyone who dedicates their time to popularizing science should not shy away from the issue.
The one problem I have with much of this discussion is this. Somehow it seems as if the question “Do you believe in (a) god?” is considered a quick-and-dirty way of unlocking the answer to the question “What is your world view?” And this, I am convinced, is not the case.
The big picture is much more complicated than that. What is “god”? What is “believing”? What, for that matter, is “science”? What we are dealing with here is a rich tapestry of ideas, facts, convictions, behaviors, observations, etc. It spans the full width of the human experience, and I do not think it can be resolved in a simple yes-or-no question, even if it is extended to a seven-point scale.
I am not a religious person, and I see no reason to think that there is any kind of metaphysical or transcendent reality. I build my understanding of how the world works on science, not faith. But life if full of questions that science cannot answer: questions or morality, value judgments, the quandaries of beauty and love, and so on. The desire to address such matters in a meaningful way is an integral part of life. For me, the scale upon which to mark these issues is not divine, but humane. I am then, in a word, a humanist.
But what matters most is that all people, whatever their beliefs and convictions, treat each other with kindness and respect, and that we never fail to wonder at the beauty of the universe.
And that is where you come in, Pamela and Fraser. You have made my experience of the universe a richer and more rewarding one. Thank you.