Monday, February 21, 2011

Logical Fallacies 19: Special Pleading

Video here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YlL_3lfXcns&feature=watch_response

Let us begin this time by considering the words of Colonel Robert Ingersoll, circa 1896:

For the most part we inherit our opinions. We are the heirs of habits and mental customs. Our beliefs, like the fashion of our garments, depend on where we were born. We are molded and fashioned by our surroundings.
Environment is a sculptor -- a painter.
If we had been born in Constantinople, the most of us would have said: "There is no God but Allah, and Mohammed is his prophet." If our parents had lived on the banks of the Ganges, we would have been worshipers of Siva, longing for the heaven of Nirvana.
As a rule, children love their parents, believe what they teach, and take great pride in saying that the religion of mother is good enough for them.
Most people love peace. They do not like to differ with their neighbors. They like company. They are social. They enjoy traveling on the highway with the multitude. They hate to walk alone.
The Scotch are Calvinists because their fathers were. The Irish are Catholics because their fathers were. The English are Episcopalians because their fathers were, and the Americans are divided in a hundred sects because their fathers were. This is the general rule, to which there are many exceptions.

            I grew up under the dual Christian-Mormon cacophony.  My mother, though, the Christian, was much more pluralistic than my father, the Mormon.  That is she was much more inclined to hold the view that all religions are in some sense true.  For the first several years of my life, she was a firm practitioner of tarot and New Age.
            One result of this, and the fact that she got custody after the divorce, was my exposure to ideas from religions cosmetically very different from Christianity; religions whose practitioners, I had noticed, were just as fervent and confident about their faiths as Christians and Mormons.  Therefore, confidence among Christians and Mormons, for me, was a characteristic which was never especially differentiating or impressive.
            In Junior High, in the course of one class or another, I would find myself learning things here and there about mythology (mainly Greek).  I read about things done in the stories of the canon by a number of Greek gods which were no less far fetched, no less incredible, no less impressive than any of the claims in the Bible or the Book of Mormon to which I had received primary exposure.  This made the claims within these books much less impressive, yet no less far fetched, by comparison.  The fact that people in one area grow up with a different set of elaborate tall tales than people in another area has a way of making those tall tales much less impressive once one realizes that.
            A Christian woman once asked me if I had ever gone to the Seminary to examine their evidence.
            I pointed out that, by “seminary,” she means a Christian seminary.  Why Christian specifically?  I asked if she had ever gone to a Jewish, Buddhist, Hindu or Muslim seminary to examine their evidence.
            I have no doubt, as far as my religiosity goes, this exposure to mythology and other religions was, if you’ll pardon the metaphor, one of the first nails in the coffin.  Why is it that people who grow up under one particular religion have the tendency to grow up to practice that one instead of some other?  It is because growing up as they do under the influence of that one, they are weaned on arguments which emphasize the strengths of that one, such as they are, and the weaknesses of others.  The one they are raised under is typically described with the most poetic, flattering language imaginable, while the rest are either not described, or described neutrally or pejoratively.  They are raised under a deliberately biased double-standard of argument, which in logic is known as special pleading.
            During the 2000 election, I was still in regular contact with my father, a veritable Republican supremacist.  One detail about Bush’s past which the Gore campaign dredged up was an incident in which he was pulled over for drunk driving.  My father argued that the only reason he was caught was that he realized that he was drunk and therefore compensated by driving excessively slowly.  He was over-careful.  I know enough about my father to know that there is no way in any hell that any Democrat who did the same thing would receive the same benefit of the doubt from this man.
            By the same token, common is the rhetoric among conservatives, “Why can’t everyone just learn English?”  As someone recently pointed out in the comments on one of my videos, it makes just as much sense to ask, “Why can’t everyone just learn Aramaic?”
            In their infamous announcement, Way of the Meister cited the tendency of the schools to teach only evolution instead of the “alternative.”  Which alternative?  Why the Judeo-Christian-Islamo-Mormon creation tale of course.  Why that one in particular?  Why not the Hindu creation tale?  That’s an alternative as well.  Why not creation tales from ancient Mesopotamia, Egypt, Neolithic Africa, Greece or Norway?  Why none of the abundant Native American creation tales?  If this one “alternative” deserves consideration, then how come none of the rest of these do?  How come their not campaigning for any of these as well?  Why join forces with Campus Crusade for Christ but not also Campus Crusade for Tezcatlipoca?  If that particular “alternative” is supported less by the evidence, then demonstrate that.  Otherwise, I’m just going to assume that the problem is that it’s too hard for you to pronounce.
            I was once presented with the argument that, in order to see the profundity and superiority of the Quran, one must begin with an awareness of its internal consistency.  Clearly, “awareness” is a euphemism for “assumption.”  One must begin with an assumption of its internal consistency.  In other words, one must begin by assuming its superiority as a book before one can see that superiority.  One must deliberately set oneself up for confirmation bias.  This argument, when stripped of its poetic and vague language, says that the Quran only appears superior when one begins by assuming that it is.  It appears superior through the eyes of confirmation bias and special pleading.  What other books does the Muslim insist on reading in this fashion?  Well, the Hadiths, of course, and probably various apologetic works, but otherwise, none.  The Quran appears superior in this case because it is given special treatment.  This presupposition could make any book seem superior.
            The Muslims find the Quran superior to other books because they hold it to a lower standard than they hold other books.  The Christians find the Bible superior for the same reason.  The same can be said of the Hindus with regard to the Bagavad Gita and the Upanishads.  Any book will seem superior when the standard it has to meet as a book is deliberately lowered.
            What about this book?  This book, I can tell you from experience, is quite internally consistent; a credit to the skill of the author.  Was I aware of this consistency before I began to read it?  No.  I couldn’t have been.  One cannot really be aware of the internal consistency of a book one has never read before.  One can be aware of claims of the book’s internal consistency, but not that consistency itself; not until one has experienced it.  Recognizing its internal consistency before reading it is, however, completely unnecessary.  Most people who read this particular book will recognize its internal consistency and its superiority as a book without assuming either in advance.
            I am presented over and again with arguments from Muslims and Christians with the expectation that I will find them utterly convincing.  Why do they have this expectation?  It is because they find these arguments utterly convincing.  Of course, the only reason this is the case is that they are convinced already.  They have the desire to be presented with the message that the position they are holding is the correct one.  Therefore, anything which seems to suggest this is given virtually no scrutiny, while any claim that their position might be incorrect receives an amount of scrutiny no claim could hold up under.  That’s a double standard.  That’s special pleading.
            A vehicle’s superiority is demonstrated either by its ability to do things other vehicles cannot or by its ability to do things better than other vehicles can.  Maybe it’s cheaper.  Maybe it gets better mileage.  Maybe it’s able to hall more weight at greater speeds.  Maybe it brakes more effectively.  Maybe it handles better or more effectively protects its passengers in the event of an accident.  Maybe it holds up better under the same wear.  In other words, its superiority as a vehicle is demonstrated objectively in the way it does a better job of meeting the same standards.  The superiority of a vehicle, if true, can be demonstrated without asking anyone to begin with the assumption that it is true.
            By the same token, a superior argument is one that does a better job than others of holding up under skeptical scrutiny.  It does a better job of meeting the same standard, and therefore has no reason to ask for a different standard.  It is therefore clear to me that, if every single person in the world were to grow up receiving equal exposure to all religions, the vast majority of us would find one no more impressive than another.
            One thing I know for certain is that I have subscribers who are Christian, and others who are Muslim.  As far as I know, they have inherited these labels.  This tells me that, had they been born under Judaism instead, they would all just as easily be Jewish.
            This is the kind of internal inconsistency one finds in many a creationist argument.  Many a creationist theist will point to something that just happens to work as proof that their position must be correct, but then will point to something that doesn’t work as proof that my position cannot be.  Ray Comfort himself has recycled the insistence that there must be a god to have created the Universe because things don’t just pop into existence out of nothing.  He has even gone so far as to offer a cash reward to anyone who can offer proof of this happening.
            What if such a thing were to happen?  What if something were to pop into existence out of nothing?  How would he react?  He would point and say, “Behold!  The hand of the creator!  What more proof could you ask for?” or something to that effect.
            When I began on YouTube, I did not call myself an atheist.  I called myself an agnostic, because of course, one cannot prove that no gods exist.  As far as I could tell, atheism and deism were equally strong positions to hold.  I was torn between them and so found the label “agnostic” more comfortable.
            Now before I continue, I should clarify.  Different people have different ideas of deism, so let me just take a moment to explain what the term meant, and what it still means, to me.
            I had one foot in belief in a design, but not a design for the benefit of humanity, nor a design that precluded natural processes.  I was open to the idea of a god who related to humanity in much the same way that a baker relates to his yeast.  The yeast does not understand the will of the baker, and it would be the height of absurdity for one yeast to presume to tell another about his personal relationship with the baker.  Bakers don’t make friends with yeast.  But by the same token, the yeast is unable to avoid abiding the will of the baker.  The baker mixes in the yeast, understanding better than the yeast possibly could the effect its presence will have.  The baker knows what the final outcome will be and the yeast is a tool he utilizes to that end.  I believe this could be called “theistic determinism.”  This whole explanation I found delightfully nuanced, and so much fun to contemplate.
            But when I tried to argue this point in one of my videos, it fell apart so quickly, so utterly, that I slipped into denial.  Here I thought I had formulated my argument so well, that when one single, solitary comment was enough to destroy it so completely, I actually winced.  Now don’t get me wrong.  I’m really glad it happened.  This was a key point I needed to understand for my own good... but it fucking hurt.
            You see, my argument was, “It cannot be proven that x does not exist.  Therefore it could exist.  Therefore it is rational and wise to bear the possibility in mind.”  That comment pointed out that there are countless possibilities that can be substituted for “x” without violating the argument: fairies, dragons, unicorns, pixies, gnomes, leprechauns, people three meters tall, Jimmy Hoffa’s extra spleen, you name it.  None of these can be proven not to exist.  Therefore they all could exist.  Shall we fixate on each and every one of them?
            Now I can be pretty stubborn.  When safely, comfortably, tucked away in my cocoon of denial, I don’t like being disturbed there.  That character and I had to go around about this a few times, but this point finally sank in.  We got to a point where I realized I could predict how he would respond to the arguments I was making.  But then I realized that being able to predict them did not help me to counter them.  You see, in this case, I was giving god-belief special treatment.  I was holding belief in one or more uninvolved and unidentifiable deities to one standard and belief in all these other mystical beings to another.  I was applying special pleading.
            Now don’t get me wrong.  The term “agnostic” still describes me as accurately as it ever has, but I don’t rely on it because it’s really too broad a term to be of use.  I don’t care what claims clergy, apologists, theologians and wanna-believers are fond of making.  None of us have any way of knowing if any gods, dragons, gnomes or magic traffic lights exist.  Therefore, the significance of the words, “I am agnostic,” is the same as that of the words, “I am human.”
            Here is a statement I can make in total sincerity:
            “I am an agnostic.”
            Ah, but wait.  Here’s another declaration I can make with sincerity which is in nowise diminished:
            “I am an atheist.”
            I do not know (I am an agnostic), but I do not believe (I am an atheist).  I recognize that the existence or nonexistence of any gods cannot be proven (I am an agnostic), but I also recognize that god belief is irrational (I am an atheist).
            Making a point, now, of doing the best I can to avoid special pleading, I am an atheist by necessity.  I could begin with the position that all religions are true.  But then, every religion has, at one time or another, declared every other religion false.  So if every religion is true, then every religion truthfully declares every other religion false which makes every religion false.  This, of course, means that every religion falsely declares every other religion false, which makes every religion true.  Of course, in the interests of escaping this loop, or to avoid falling into it in the first place, it makes much more sense to begin with the position that every religion is the product of its time and place of origin.  I recognize that every religion has gotten certain things right and certain things wrong, but the only way to identify which parts of which religions fall into which category is to rely on sources outside of the religion in question.  At this point, out of logical necessity, one is no longer relying on the religion in question for guidance.
            I could begin with the position that all gods exist unless someone can prove otherwise and every one that I don’t worship is one who could send me to Hell or the Underworld for not worshipping him or her.  But in that case, worshipping would be all that I would get done.  I wouldn’t even have time to eat, sleep, or brush my teeth.
            I could also begin with the position that a specific one, or a specific few, or a specific group of the gods who have been worshipped by humanity exist.  That, however, would mean accepting that group until they are proven not to exist, and not accepting any of the rest until they are proven to exist which would mean holding different claims to different standards which is special pleading.
            The only reasonable, rational, practical option remaining is to hold the position that no gods exist until one or more of them do a superior job of meeting the same standards of argument all the rest are subjected to; that is I hold this position until one or more can be bothered to pop in and say hello and maybe even go so far as to actually shake my hand.  I give Christ the very same treatment I give Poseidon.

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