In the last post we discussed the problematic nature of religious beliefs in public debate. To illustrate the point, we took the example of the IDer who didn’t accept Neo-Darwinian evolution, not really because of any scientific evidence, but because he believed himself to be privy to God’s infallible truth. What this IDer is engaging in is not debate or legitimate argumentation (not about evolution anyway), but is instead engaged in apologetics. It will be the purpose of this post to explore the difference which exists between apologetics and legitimate debate.
Before we begin, however, we should first note that apologetics, while typically being associated with religion, is not necessarily exclusive to it. While I will continue to use the example of the IDer in this post, I do not deny that people engage in apologetics to defend views which are not motivated by or related to religion.
In order to better understand how apologetics is not argumentation, it will be to our benefit to first discuss what argumentation is. Arguing is basically reason giving; it is the providing of justifications for or in support of a position. Success in an argument consists in the willing assent of a member of your audience, it being composed of both participating interlocutors as well as any passive observers, to the position which you are arguing for.
Such a definition of success, however, is slightly misleading. The real purpose of arguing is not to “win” but to come to an understanding of the truth. Thus we seek the willing and fully informed assent of the audience, entirely free of manipulation or coercion. Since the ultimate purpose of arguing is not to win but to learn, we ourselves must also be open to willing and fully informed assent to another’s position which differs from our own.
It is this environment of mutual respect and willingness to change, as opposed to a desire to win the argument at any cost, that makes argumentation an essentially cooperative rather adversarial endeavor. Engaging in an argument consists of implicitly accepting the risk of being shown wrong or having to alter one’s belief system, and it is the mutual recognition that such risks have been assumed that gives argumentation its cooperative nature. It is the cooperative rather than the adversarial nature of argumentation which makes it a good thing for people to engage in.Apologetics, however, is not a cooperative endeavor. The apologist, if I may call him such, has not assumed the risk of changing his belief system. For example, in the case of our IDer (which is not meant to represent all IDers mind you) even if ever argument which he musters against evolution turns out to be demonstrably wrong, he will still not accept evolution. This is because the arguments which he has provided are not really his reasons for doubting evolution. Instead, the arguments which he presents are simply reasons which happen to point in the same direction, so to speak, with the reasons for why he really doubts evolution. It is the IDers refusal to accept evolution, even after all his arguments have been shown to be wrong, that reveals the apologetic nature of the debate which he is engaged in.
The case of the evolutionist is different in that if his arguments in favor of evolution all turned out to be wrong, he would have to radically alter his belief system. (Of course I realize that not all evolutionists are this way, but we are discussing the nature of argumentation and apologetics, not evolution and ID.) Notice that the point isn’t that one side is convinced that they are right and the other is not. Indeed, if both sides were not convinced that they were right in their respective positions, the argument would be a very shallow and uninteresting one.
The difference is that the arguer is willing to be wrong and adjust his beliefs accordingly while the other is not. In an argument there exists equal ground, not between the positions but between the interlocutors. While each arguer in convinced that his position is right, he or she also recognizes that such is not necessarily the case. This equal ground consists in the mutual acceptance of the risks mentioned above, and is what gives argumentation isn’t cooperative nature.
Such equal ground does not exist in the case of apologetics, for while both parties are convinced that their position is the correct one, at least one of the parties does not even acknowledge that his position might actually be wrong in the end. He is not cooperatively striving to find the truth of the matter, for he “knows” that he already has the truth in the matter. He excludes himself from the audience altogether, for he is not engaged in the discussion to learn, but to instruct. In such a context, the assent of the audience will be sought, be it given freely or not.
It should be clear by now why religious beliefs make such a good illustration of apologetics for the reasons which were mentioned in the last post. The religionist is simply defending a position which he takes to be God’s position. Even if he isn’t able to defend the position very well and all his arguments fall flat on their face, this doesn’t at all change the fact, in his mind, that the position which he defends is the right one anyways. While this is certainly the most obvious example of apologetics, I must again emphasize that such is not necessarily limited to religious beliefs or religious people. The atheist who accepts evolution primarily because it is the only account of a God-less creation available would seem to be just as engaged in apologetics as is our hypothetical IDer.
While the failure to recognize the very possibility of being wrong is one mark of apologetics, it is not the only one, nor is it the most important one in my opinion. The real problem of apologetics lies in the fact that the reasons which the apologist puts forth are not the real reasons for his being convinced of a position. The reasons for why the apologist does this may vary. It could be because they are not very confident in their ability to defend their real reasons. It could be because they are not really aware of what their real reasons are. It could be because their real reasons are entirely private in nature and therefore beyond public argument. It could be because their real reasons are too intimate and personal. Or perhaps it is something else entirely.
Let us consider the example of the IDer who is religiously motivated. He does not reject evolution out of a consideration of punctuated equilibrium or a seeming lack of transitional fossils. Instead, he rejects evolution because the Bible tells another story, or perhaps because such a view seems to rob life of its purpose and meaning. While this IDer might actually be properly arguing about punctuated equilibrium or the presence of transitional fossils, he is not really arguing about evolution at all; he is engaging in apologetics. He is simply presenting reason which can be used to argue against evolution, but even if all these reasons turned out to be dead wrong, he would still believe evolution to be wrong. They are not his real reasons for disbelieving evolution.
While we have discussed what the fundamental differences are between argumentation and apologetics, it would be helpful to list some ways in which apologetics can be identified and distinguished from proper argumentation. Whereas argumentation is marked by its cooperative nature as well as the mutual assumption of various risks and burdens (the burden of proving as assertion and the burden of rejoinder), the endeavor of apologetics is marked by its adversarial nature and the refusal to accept these risks and burdens. Here are some questions which can help identify and distinguish apologetics from proper argumentation:
- Do both parties modestly acknowledge that they might possibly be wrong?
- Is there anything that could possibly be presented that would convince them that they are wrong and achieve their willing assent?
- Do both parties accept the burden of rejoinder by properly engaging the arguments of the other side in an honest manner with the intent of furthering the argument?
- Do both parties seek agreement by way of cooperative argumentation?
- Do both parties actively seek to understand the other side’s position in order to properly engage it?
- Do both parties accept the burden of proof in that they must given reasons for their positions, reasons which might themselves be called into question?
- Does either party immodestly assume the strength of presumption?
I think apologetics proper is just arguments designed to show one can believe in X and be rational. If I understand the ID proper argument, they think that there is something objectively demonstrable. So I don’t think it’s properly apologetics.
Now some might use ID arguments (which haven’t yet been remotely established) as apologetics. But I think this has less to do with their intentions than their use and context the arguments can be put to.
Put an other way, Dawkins might sincerely believe that evolution demonstrates atheism. He may have religious aims in his preachings. But I’d not consider the majority of his books apologetics. (Well, perhaps a paragraph or two here or there)
Posted by Clark
Comment by Clark Goble — May 1, 2006 @ 8:48 pm
Yeah, but I think that the proper definition of apologetics is largly beside the point (as ironic as that may sound). In the post “apologetics” is simply a label which I give to a particular form of breakdown in argumentation. While I think that this breakdown is really close the apologetics, I’m not prepared to really go to the mats in defense of the word.
Posted by Jeff G
Comment by jeff g — May 1, 2006 @ 9:00 pm
Perhaps, but I tend to think that most things in this world – especially in places like history – are underdetermined. That is there tends to be a wide range of defensible and rational interpretations. Now I think it important to put these out in the marketplace of ideas. And, depending upon your stance, some will be more persuasive than others. But I think the idea that most decisions are obvious is a bad one.
Now I’m clearly not saying you are making that. And I tend to think that, except for some narrow arguments, most ID arguments are simply bad and can be shown such.
But it does seem like most of us naturally adopt some positions we simply can’t doubt, for what ever reason. Pretending that we can put these positions on the table in a way we do doubt them seems to be advocating a kind of bad faith. (I’m here following Peirce’s criticism of Cartesian doubt – but I think it has wide application) That’s not to say we shouldn’t inquiry and question. But it seems your (1) is hard to take seriously except in the form we can think in the abstract that we are wrong.
For instance I’m quite willing to say I may be wrong and I’m not really staying late working on the computer. Perhaps my flu has caught up with me and I’m delerious in bed. I can give a kind of faux-nod to your (1) but really, I just can’t will myself to doubt that I’m really here.
Now I’m sure you’ll say that this doesn’t apply to the kinds of discussions you target. But I’m not sure but what it does. I think the solution is to continue to inquire. But if the requirement for “proper argumentation” is something I think humanly impossible then something is wrong.
Posted by Clark
Comment by Clark Goble — May 3, 2006 @ 7:18 pm
I think that you do have a point here, but I think that this point only serves to perhaps limit my assertion rather than modify it really. Of course we all believe that the beliefs we have are true by default. (Isn’t that the definition of “our” beliefs?”)
What I am arguing against are those beliefs which we cling to, not only out of habit or convention, but out of a willful refusal to give a beleif up when arguments are (objectively speaking) entirely on the other side of the debate.
But even this definition isn’t entirely right by most lights, for I don’t think that the refusal to give up a belief really needs to be all that willful or conscious. Indeed, I would suspect that most argument continues, in practice, because a person is simply looking for evidence or argument to shore up a belief which they have without really being at all aware of why they believe it.
Pascal Boyer mentions this in his book “Religion Explained” but I have not seen many other resources on this “tendency”:
“What is contained in the explicit thought – what we usually call a ‘belief’ – is very often an attempt to justify or explain the intuitions we have as a result of implicit processes in the mental basement. It is an interpretation of (or a report on) these intuitions…
“So what does it mean to say that someone ‘has’ a belief? Superficially, it means that they can assent to a particular interpretation of how their minds work.” – Boyer, 305,306
I realize that “proper” reasoning rarely, if ever, happens and that “apologetics”, as I call it, is probably the rule rather than the exception. There isn’t really a line dividing one from the other, but setting up a false dichotomy helps to draw out many of the features of argumentation which, ideally, should be avoided.
Posted by Jeff G
Comment by jeff g — May 3, 2006 @ 8:20 pm
“What I am arguing against are those beliefs which we cling to, not only out of habit or convention, but out of a willful refusal to give a beleif up when arguments are (objectively speaking) entirely on the other side of the debate.”
Yes, but it is precisely this claim that I am attacking via the rejection of volitional control of beliefs. I think Peirce was ultimately making a cognitive claim and working out its philosophical implications.
One might agree that one has lost an argument, yet still believe. But to impugn a person for this is silly if they don’t have control of their beliefs. Further this can quite often be rational. Consider a sophomore arguing with a professor. The professor can harness better arguments and the sophomore realizes he can’t win in the argument. But rather than simply doubt his position he merely doubts his knowledge and skills to engage his professor. That is he doubts not his belief but his contextual knowledge that would enable him to argue for his belief.
While I think this happens a lot in academics, I also think it is the reason why people with certain religious claims (say young earth creationism) doubt. They think that if only they had the information they would need to argue they would win the argument.
So the question is, is that wrong? And if we attack it in the religious context must we not also attack it in the academic context.
That is, what is the role of ignorance in our arguments and what are the epistemological implications?
Now I think Peirce has a good answer to this. We continue as a community to inquire and investigate all things. As we do this naturally these other inquiries will affect our beliefs. So we may not have direct volitional control of our beliefs but we can change them indirectly through inquiry.
So to me the obvious attack on say young earth creationists isn’t that they continue to believe despite losing arguments. Rather it is that they don’t continue to inquire. They intentionally cut off inquiry. And if they have a epistemic sin it is that. They ought instead continue to read, study and inquire in biology, geology and so forth. Few do.
Posted by Clark
Comment by Clark Goble — May 4, 2006 @ 10:07 am
BTW – you’d have to flesh out Boyer’s notion of belief a bit more for me. I’m afraid that quote you give confuses me more than it clarifies. It almost sounds like Boyer is arguing that beliefs are theories about belief making processes. Which seems an odd thing to claim. And perhaps demonstrably false. Although I can see why, given certain aims within epistemology, someone might claim that.
Comment by Clark Goble — May 4, 2006 @ 10:09 am
Sorry about the Boyer quotes. Let me try to explain what he claims in my own words.
He claims that what we call our beliefs are not really conclusions which we rationally come to, but are instead (most of the time) simply our acceptance of a story or explanation of a phenomenon which is (most) in harmony with the conclusions which we have reached “preconsciously”.
In other words, he sees our conscious selves not as being like the president in the oval office of our minds, but rather as press secretaries which report on what has already happened rather than playing that active of a role for the most part.
Accordingly, when conflicting evidence arises, Boyer says that we don’t reason through to another independent conclusion, but instead simply modify the the falsified belief as little as possible until a suitable equilibrium is found again.
Thus you can see that you version of what Boyer is claiming isn’t all that off, if it is at all. Here is another quote which probably serves as a better representation both as to the content as well as the scope of Boyer’s claim:
“So we have tow quite different pictures of how a mind reachesa verdict. On the one hand, we sometimes weigh evidence and decide on its merit. On the other hand, there seems to be a great deal of underground beliefmaking going on that is simply not reported. When we discuss religious concpets and beliefs, we tend to assume that these are processed in the mind along the lines of the first model, a kind of Judge and Attorney system in the mind. We assume that notions of supernatural agents, what they do, what they are like, etc. are presented to the mind and that some decisionmaking porcess accepts these notions as valid or rejects them. But this may be a rather distorted view of how such concepts are acquired and represented.” (304)
It is right after this that Boyer writes the quote from my last comment.
Posted by Jeff G
Comment by jeff g — May 4, 2006 @ 11:55 am
OK. That does sound a bit better. Although I don’t think I’d call that theories about processes. (Which sounds like Alston or Plantinga twisted somewhat) I think the way you present it now sounds more Peircean.
Posted by Clark
Comment by Clark Goble — May 4, 2006 @ 12:57 pm