Justin: Thank you for that important distinction. A core takeaway here is that, whatever word we might prefer to use when talking about confidence—be it faith or trust—not all confidence is equally rational.
But, at this point, I'd like to make a related and important point: the rationality of one's faith or trust in, say, the goodness of a person, the usefulness of an idea, or the accuracy of a text can exist in degrees that can change over time.
In the case of the parents who turned a blind eye to the incriminating evidence against their two sons, they had faith or trust in their children's innocence. It might be the case that their trust was the rational result of consistent saintly behavior from the two brothers until the night in question. If it were, their faith in the innocence of their children was well-placed, given the information to which they had access at the time.
Where they erred was not in their original faith or trust in the innocence of the defendants. Rather, their mistake was when they let this supreme confidence in the innocence of their sons get in the way of updating their current belief with important additional information from the prosecutor.
FAITH IN THE MESSINESS OF LIFE
Randal: Yup, and this is one of the places where I think folks often get into trouble when judging the rationality or objectivity of other folks. The problem comes when we judge the rationality of other people based on the set of beliefs we hold. That's a mistake.
Justin: I agree, and it's a very common mistake. The question is not whether or not some particular belief is rational, the question is rational for whom? Some beliefs can be rational for some persons but irrational for others.
Randal: Right. And this is a point worth underscoring with an example, one that brings us squarely back to theism.
Let's say, for example, that Pastor Jones prays for his daughter to recover from a bad case of pneumonia. A couple hours after the prayer, the daughter begins to show dramatic signs of improvement. By the next day, she is fully recovered, and Pastor Jones concludes that God healed her.
I have often heard religious skeptics reply that this kind of interpretation of the recovery is irrational because the child's improvement could just as well be due to chance. I agree that it could be chance: nobody's denying that. However, we should also remember that Pastor Jones starts out with different background beliefs from the skeptic. Pastor Jones believes there is a God who answers prayer, while the skeptic doesn't believe this. Since they have different starting points, each reasonably interprets the same data differently relative to their background assumptions. As a result, the pastor can see the hand of providence while the skeptic sees mere serendipity.
So here is how this cashes out: it is reasonable for Pastor Jones to attribute the recovery to divine action, and it is reasonable for the skeptic to attribute it to chance. The point is that we don't need to decide which interpretation is reasonable or justified. Rather, Pastor Jones and the skeptic can both be reasonable in interpreting the data differently, each in accord with his background beliefs.
Justin: Well, I certainly want to join you in agreeing that the beliefs we hold prior to confronting new data can greatly affect our interpretation of that new data. But allow me to look closer at the example you’ve provided here before we move on.
Randal: I'm fine with that. My examples are not cheap knockoffs. They tend to look even better on closer inspection.
Justin: It's certainly true that it would be irrational for the skeptic to believe that God is the cause of the healing, because he doesn't even believe that God exists! On his view then, such an event would be impossible. Moreover, an event like this isn't going to constitute significant evidence of the sort that might change the skeptic's mind. But the pastor…
Randal: Whoa, hold on there, comrade. An interjection is required. I agree that it would be irrational for the skeptic to attribute the miracle to God while continuing to believe God doesn't exist. But that's very different from a scenario where the skeptic comes to believe God exists based on the evidence of the putative healing. And I don't see any problem in principle with that.
Justin: Okay, so that addresses the skeptic, but what about the pastor? This is the more interesting question of the two, or at least it seems so to me. Obviously, the pastor believes that God exists and that God is capable of answering prayers. For the pastor then, God's answering his prayer by healing his daughter's pneumonia is not logically ruled out by his preexisting beliefs. But, just because they are not ruled out by his beliefs, doesn't necessarily make his conclusion that God has answered his prayer rational.
Randal: Granted it doesn't follow automatically. But what makes you think it would not be rational?
Justin: As a pastor, he has undoubtedly prayed before. In fact, he has probably prayed much more than the average congregant.
Randal: One might hope.
Justin: How many of those prayers in the past have been answered?
How many haven't?
What counts as an answered prayer?
If he prays for healing for a friend and his friend suffers for another ten years before experiencing some healing, does that count? Clearly the pastor thinks that some prayers might come true even if God wasn't the cause of their coming true. Given these heavy complexities, of which the pastor will be aware, I doubt that even he is going to be within his rational rights to attribute his daughter's healing to the God he believes in.
Randal: Okay, I see where you’re coming from.
My problem with what you’ve said here is that you can raise similar problems with inductive knowledge generally. In deductive reasoning, the premises follow necessarily from the conclusion, but in inductive reasoning the premises only make the conclusion more likely. And yet, while we all appeal to induction, it raises deep philosophical problems.
For example, how do we justify drawing general conclusions based on a limited selection of examples? And how do we justify making assumptions about the future, such as that the sun will rise tomorrow, based on a limited experience in the past? And how do we justify a belief in the uniformity of nature? And then there is the new problem of induction raised by philosopher Nelson Goodman, which I don't even want to get into here because it will end up taking us down a rabbit trail.4
The bottom line here is that induction raises a nest of problems every bit as complicated as the problems you’ve posed for the pastor. And yet we all appeal to induction. I think a good lesson is that we should begin by addressing general problems with knowledge in areas like induction as a preface for discussing specific examples of problems like the pastor's belief about answered prayer. Moving in that way, from the general to the specific, ensures that we’re being consistent rather than applying standards to others that we don't apply to ourselves.
As for me, the lesson I would draw from the pastor's case is simply that questions of rationality, evidence, and belief are contextualized to particular individuals in particular contexts with particular beliefs. And we need to be careful about judging the rationality of others based on the set of beliefs we hold.
Justin: I think you’re right in that we should be careful about judging the rationality of others based on the beliefs we currently hold. Remember, I argued specifically from the beliefs the pastor has and not from the beliefs I have. It isn't at all obvious that his theistic belief, which makes answered prayer possible, is even remotely sufficient to justify his conclusion that God answered his prayer. Simply pointing to old philosophical controversies about induction doesn't give your pastor a free ride to conclude anything he wants.
Randal: The disputes about induction aren't “old.” They remain live issues in academic philosophy. And I didn't suggest the pastor gets a “free ride” or that he can “conclude anything he wants.” His belief arose naturally in response to an apparent instance of a fulfilled request. And I think that conclusion is perfectly reasonable given the unusual recovery, the context in which it occurred (following a prayer), and the pastor's background belief (God s
ometimes, but not always, responds favorably to requests for healing). Raising broad issues such as you have isn't sufficient to establish the irrationality of his belief.
If you really want to talk about free rides, then it seems that we’re all getting a free ride in the sense that we form beliefs through induction even though we haven't rebutted every serious objection to induction. And if that is the case, then why pick on the pastor?
Justin: I pick on the pastor because of the nature of the claims being made. Pastor aside, we seem to be in agreement then that, as a general rule, an attitude or approach to faith that discourages investigation is problematic. Perhaps it might be of some value to briefly touch on what an exception to such a rule might look like?
FAITH IN YOUR SHERPA
Randal: This may be a quibble, but I don't think we should speak of exceptions to the rule, if the rule is construed from the outset as a general rule. For example, if the general rule is that vehicles on the road should observe the speed limit, the ambulance that exceeds the speed limit while driving a critically ill patient to the hospital is not violating that general rule. Rather, the ambulance operates within it, for the general rule allows precisely these kinds of exemptions.
Justin: You’re right about that. My mistake.
Randal: Similarly, if we accept the general rule that it is good and proper to be ready to question or investigate those things we trust, we could still recognize instances where it is advisable not to do so.
Here's an example of what I'm thinking: You’re a city slicker climbing Mt. Everest guided by an expert Sherpa. In that circumstance, your survival depends on absolute and unqualified trust in your guide. The fact that radical trust (or faith) is required in that instance doesn't violate the general desirability of a critical mind, just as a speeding ambulance doesn't violate the speed limit.
Justin: I'm afraid I need to express some hesitance toward your example here. It seems to me that, if all we know about the Sherpa is that they identify as a Sherpa, it hardly justifies an unqualified trust in them as a guide. This is especially true in such a high-risk situation. I can easily think of situations where their decisions would best be met with a heavy dose of skepticism.
Randal: Ahh, I can tell you’ve got something in mind that you want to share. Do tell!
Justin: Let's say you’re ten days into your journey up the mountain when you realize that you are rapidly losing daylight and the temperature is dropping faster than expected. Let's also say that you’ve just arrived at a seemingly perfect camping spot and the journey ahead looks to be particularly treacherous for several hours at least.
Randal: Hmm, sounds like an ideal place to stop! Time to make some s’mores on the fire.
Justin: Right! So, then if your Sherpa guide insists that you press onward, unqualified trust in their plan would seem reckless given the high-stakes nature of the situation. At the very least, you should ask them to inform you of the details or reasoning behind their plan for pressing on into the cold. Perhaps their expertise gives them insight into the terrain not immediately available to you, but the risk is too great to follow your guide's plan unquestioningly. After all, what if your guide is new to this route or new to being a guide altogether? Maybe they’ve forgotten something. Experts aren't infallible.
Randal: You’re right about that last bit. To err is human!
On the other hand, if, as I said, you’re a city slicker, and this Sherpa has shown himself capable during the previous ten days of hiking, then I would be inclined to think your decision to disregard his advice at this point would be foolhardy. Keep in mind as well that “Sherpa” is a vetted and elite status like “Texas Ranger” or “Navy Seal.” As a result, generally speaking, any person who has attained the status of a Sherpa warrants your trust.
And it isn't hard to imagine things that Sherpa might know that you don't. For example, it could be that this clearing that seems so inviting to you is prone to avalanches, rockslides, or attacks by the Abominable Snowman.
Justin: Yahhhs!
Randal: Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Sometimes I don't realize my own power as a storyteller.
How about this: perhaps the Sherpa knows of a sheltered cleft in the rock just over the next ridge that offers a safe respite from the elements.
Justin: Ah, but remember, never did I advocate disregarding the Sherpa's advice out of hand. I’ve only suggested an inquiry into the details of the Sherpa's plan. At that point, he might be able to share a new bit of information with you, like your sheltered cleft, which might make his decision seem less suicidal from your point of view.
If, however, we were talking about a fast-paced decision where there wasn't time to ask about the Sherpa's reasoning, it would probably be best to side with the Sherpa.
Randal: Now I'm on board with you.
Justin: Attaboy, young Padawan.
Randal: Yes, I'm glad you accept the wisdom of having faith in the Sherpa.
Justin: Trust!
Randal: Faith, trust, whatever you prefer!
And, since I'm a big fan of give-and-take, I’ll happily give a little by acknowledging that such faith is not absolute. In other words, there are limits to our deference to the Sherpa's authority. For example, I would think that if the Sherpa advised you to take a hunk of granite and start hitting yourself in the head, you'd be wise to demur. Faith does have its limits.
Justin: I’ll say!
Randal: At the risk of following a rabbit trail, at this point I can't help but think of Hugh Thompson Jr., a helicopter pilot with the US Army during the Vietnam War. On March 16, 1968, Thompson was ordered to provide air support to the ground operations that were seeking to flush out Viet Cong soldiers. But, to his horror, Thompson gradually realized that the ground soldiers were carrying out a massacre on the civilian population of the village, a slaughter that would later become known as the infamous My Lai Massacre. Despite the fact that Thompson was ordered to fire on the Vietnamese villagers, he refused to do so. In my view, Thompson was a moral hero who recognized that his faith in his commanding officers was not absolute.
So I heartily accept the caveat that evidence can arise that will lead the rational person to withdraw support for a person or a belief. That's a really important point. But I think we also need to recognize the extent to which each one of us extends trust (and thus faith) to others. This isn't simply something the religious do.
And that brings us to the big question: when is it rational to do so?
Justin: Right. All belief systems exercise trust, whether they’re secular or religious. We all exercise trust in the behavior, advice, and promises of authorities, lovers, and friends.
So, when is it rational to exercise trust in other persons? That's a question I have a few ideas about but no simple, final answer. I'd definitely say that there is some value in a demonstration of consistently good character, either through your personal history together, by the testimony of a trusted friend, or through an institution with some reliable vetting capabilities. There is always the possibility of a situation where we have no choice but to trust another person.
Randal: The truth is that I could talk about Sherpas all day. But I suspect it is time to tie this general discussion of faith squarely back into the question of God's existence. We defined God earlier as a necessarily existent nonphysical agent, who is omnipotent, omniscient, and perfectly good. Thus far we have also said something about having faith in Sherpas and other human beings.
Justin: There's that damn Sherpa talk again.
Randal: Sorry, I didn't realize it was a sore spot for you! Okay, no more Sherpas, at least for a while.
The next question concerns what it would mean to have faith in God's existence. And I think the place to begin is with faith in testimony.
Fortunately, it isn't hard to find additional examples where we exercise faith in the testimony of others. We trust teachers, friends, neighbors, family, weather forecasters, authors, and so on. Day by day we have faith in the te
stimony of a bewildering number of people, at least provisionally.
If we can believe all sorts of other things based on the testimony of others, it would seem we could also believe in God in this manner. In other words, one way to have faith in God would come through the testimony of fellow theists as to God's existence and nature. To be sure, I don't think testimony is the only way one might reasonably believe God exists. But it would seem to be one way.
What do you think?
THE PRINCIPLE OF TOTAL EVIDENCE
Justin: You say that the testimony of others seems like one way by which one might reasonably believe in God. I interpret this statement as being about evidence—that it's at least possible for testimony to serve as some evidence for God. I must presume that you do not mean to say that mere testimony is always sufficient for reasonable belief in God. After all, concluding that God exists merely because of some testimony seems flawed, since it would violate the Principle of Total Evidence.
Randal: Principle of Total Evidence, eh? Sounds important! Can you define that?
Justin: According to Elliot Sober, the Principle of Total Evidence is “just the idea that we should use all the evidence we have to evaluate the hypothesis at hand.”5
So, then, it seems to me that the question is whether or not I think testimony can constitute some evidence for the existence of God. Is that fair?
Randal: If I follow you, you object to the possibility that one might reasonably believe in God by way of testimony because you believe this person wouldn't have considered all the available evidence. Did I get that right?
Justin: What I mean is that, if it's true that one is not considering all the available evidence for and against God, then their conclusion that God exists is premature at best. Would you agree?
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