Part II
You can take everything I have..
Warning: This will be a long post. 🙂 In the last post I argued that if we accept the starting point of Total Depravity, then Calvinism makes perfect sense. In other words, if in the sequential ordering of God’s redemptive plan, we begin with Adam’s fall—with that fall being complete so that man is utterly unable to respond to God—then God is the only one who can intervene in the process. Therefore, Calvinism proposes that because man has sinned against God, God would be perfectly just to condemn mankind to eternal punishment. He could have chosen to let mankind stay in its state and justice would be accomplished. However, God offers free grace unconditionally to those whom he elects. We may think it is “unjust” for God to choose some over others, but God didn’t have to choose anyone, and so for him to save even one person is an…
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I still find this two part post to be one of the most compelling arguments against Calvinism, if I do say so myself. 🙂
You can take everything I have..
Posting anything about Calvinism can be a frightening thing in the blogosphere, if for no other reason than it could potentially open a torrent of comments from believers with a desire to correct an “erring brother” to the point where my every waking hour could be spent responding to the comments and proof texts hurled my way (in love of course 🙂 ). This subject used to consume my thoughts and spiritual searching, but living in Thailand (where Christianity is less than 1% of the population) tends to trivialize the need to duke it out.
However, occasionally I will be thinking about the topic (I can’t say I’ve been able to stop thinking about it entirely!), and thoughts will occur to me that I want to share. So here we go. But before we begin a couple of comments are in order:
- Feel free to stop by and comment. But…
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C. S. Lewis and the “Argument From Reason”: An Examination and (Modified Defense), Conclusion
VI. A Modest Re-Explanation of the Argument from Reason
In honestly appraising Beversluis’s critique of Lewis’s Argument from Reason, we find—as we do in most philosophical arguments—that Lewis’s argument is not nearly as flawless as it initially appears. It is the nature of philosophical arguments to be picked at and shown to be, at times, inconsistent, incomplete, and presumptuous. Enough philosophical rigor will eventually where down the strongest of arguments. This is not to take away from Beversluis’s objection. Indeed, he is right to insist that Lewis is too often uncritically absorbed by Christians who are searching for a basis for a reasonable faith. However, while the formal version of Lewis’s argument (as seen above) has premises that are possibly unsound, imbedded in Lewis’s own case is powerful statement that provides fuel for a reformulation of his argument:
It is agreed on all hands [according to Naturalists] that reason, and even sentience, and life itself are late comers in Nature. If there is nothing but Nature, therefore, reason must have come into existence by a historical process. And of course, for the Naturalist, this process was not designed to produce mental behavior that can find truth. There was no designer; and indeed, until there were thinkers, there was not truth or falsehood. The type of mental behavior we now call rational thinking or inference must have been ‘evolved’ by natural selection, by the gradual weeding out of types less fitted to survive.[1]
Now, Beversluis believes that Lewis is arguing based on this fact—which all Naturalists would agree with—that the processes of the human mind cannot be rational.[2] However, at least in this particular statement, Lewis is not suggesting as much. Rather, he is suggesting the point that I made earlier in regards to Anscombe: in such a universe, reason is ultimately accidental, subjective, and meaningless. Let me explain.
For the Naturalist, there is no Mind (or Logos) behind the universe. As such, the universe is ultimately a mindless, impersonal, physical brute fact. It just is. Yet, as we have shown, in such a universe there is no objective value, for nature is value-neutral. Lewis takes this one step farther: in such a universe there is no “truth or falsehood” (ultimately). This is because both value and truth are intrinsically personal and rational terms. Hence, both value and truth require minds. So, for Lewis, if Naturalism is true, then truth, falsehood, value, and other terms requiring personhood or minds, are not intrinsic to the universe itself, but “late comers” in this accidental process called Nature. Late comers indeed. Until human beings—with the requisite minds needed for reason—which did not show up until several thousand years ago, there would have been no such thing as reason, truth, or value. Yet, does this situation not present an oxymoron of sorts? Again, allow me to explain.
We often here the phrase “fish out of water” to indicate something, or a someone that does not fit the environment or context that he or she is in. A fish out of water is something that simply does not fit; it’s oxymoronic, for as we all know, fish are water creatures. But this is precisely what Naturalists are asking us to accept when they suggest that a reasonless, meaningless, valueless, universe gives rise to creatures who are reasoning, meaning-making, value-making beings. We are the ultimate “fish out of water” creatures, for we are born into a universe that at its very core is fundamentally different than us. It would be rather like an evolutionary process that causes fish—with all their water-specific natures—to emerge in a desert. We are creatures—with all our reasoning, value-making, meaning-making natures—born into the vast desert of an accidental, reasonless universe. At bottom, this is what the Naturalist is asking us to accept.
Of course, no naturalist—Beversluis included—accepts this either. Science is predicated on the discovery that the universe is, in fact, intelligible. It corresponds to our reason-making natures. Now, the naturalist may assert that naturally the universe must be intelligible to support the existence of intelligent creatures. But all he or she has done here is make an assertion. This has not even begun to approach what is an explanation or a why to such a phenomenon. As we all know, however, an assertion does not go very far in explanatory power.
So with Naturalism, we still end up with the phenomenon of human reasoning and the phenomenon that nature, itself, is reasonable and intelligible. It contains laws of logic and mathematics and physics that human reasoning can discover. The universe seems meaningful and reasonable. In Naturalism, this is a sheer inexplicability. And yet with Theism and the belief that there is an ultimate Mind, or in Christian theology—a Logos—that the intelligibility and rationality of the universe is grounded in and is derivative of, suddenly we have an explanation. Suddenly the rationality and intelligibility of the universe is, itself, reasonable.
VII. Conclusion
This proposal of a modified Argument From Reason does not prove Theism. It can only strongly suggest the plausibility of Theism. While C. S. Lewis’s own formulation of the argument does not, itself, provide undeniable proof that the existence of reason shows the existence of God, it does provide the groundwork for a very sound and persuasive case that the intelligibility and rationality of the universe makes far better sense in Theism than it does in Naturalism. At least in Theism, we do not arrive at human beings being the perennial “fish-out-of-water.”
C. S. Lewis and the “Argument From Reason”: An Examination and (Modified) Defense, Part V
Objection #2: G. E. M. Anscombe and Different Types of Explanations
A second, important objection to Lewis’ argument is that Lewis does not distinguish between irrational and nonrational causes[1] nor between different types of “explanations” of the same event. These are the argument first proposed by G. E. M. Anscombe against Lewis, and Berversluis spends considerable space, not only in presenting Anscombe’s argument in detail, but chronicling the debate that took place between them. Though Lewis does not explicitly mention so , Berversluis effectively shows that Lewis’ second edition of Miracles takes into account Anscombe’s objections. The pages devoted to this section are not only philosophically potent, but historically fascinating as well.
The first objection that Anscombe makes against Lewis is that he fails to distinguish between irrational and nonrational causes. Because this objection is primarily waged at the first edition of Miracles we will bypass it and move onto the second part of her argument that still applies to Lewis’ second edition. According to Anscombe, Lewis could make the following rebuttal to her point of distinguishing between irrational and nonrational causes:
That kind of explanation…would show that what the person said was not caused by reason at all, but by nonrational processes. Although the person offered arguments in support of what he said, since everything we say can be fully explained by nonrational causes, his arguments would also have been derived from a chain of nonrational causes.[2]
However, this will not work, according to Anscombe, because Lewis is failing to distinguish between causes and reasons.[3] That the reason a person comes to a particular conclusion is through a process of logical reasoning is no way undermined by the fact that the cause is a physical event (i.e. mental/chemical processes). At least, Lewis does not show how it is undermined, for he confuses the cause of a person’s thinking and the reasons a person thinks the way he or she does. Beversluis writes, “If we distinguish the ground of a conclusion from the cause of the asseration of that conclusion, the alleged incompatibility disappears…It follows that the naturalistic explanations of human thought ‘have no bearing,’ on the validity of human reasoning.”[4]
Anscombe bolsters her argument by showing how different—and equally valid—explanations can be given for a single event, depending on what a questioner wants to know. Beversluis makes the point this way: “To say that human thought can be fully explained in terms of causal laws does not preclude other kinds of noncausal explanations. There is no single explanation that is the explanation, that is, the right and only explanation and everywhere the same.”[5] Anscombe, in fact, offers four kinds of “full” explanations depending on the question being asked. First, there are causal explanations that “explain in terms of physical law”; second, there are logical explanations that “explain by showing the connection between ground and consequent”; third, there are psychological explanations that “explain why a person, in fact, believes something”; and fourthly, there are personal history explanations that “explain how someone come to hold the view he holds.”[6] The point of all this is that none of these explanations invalidates the other explanations; there is not one explanation “to rule them all.”
Beversluis follows this conclusion and develops it in a somewhat different way. Rather than “granting that explanations in terms of nonrational causes fully explain thought causally and then introducing other kinds of noncausal explanations, we can deny that explanations in terms of nonrational causes fully explain mental events.”[7] In “explaining” why Beethoven wrote, and rewrote, and rewrote his Fifth Symphony, the psychologist may provide causal reasons such as his compulsive need to succeed, while the musicologist may explain, that Beethoven didn’t give up because he saw that the piece had promise, and continued to work with it—much like a potter does with clay—until it was what he wanted.[8] The question Beversluis asks, then, is: “Why should we concede that either of these kinds of explanation fully explains what they set out to explain?”[9] In fact, Beversluis goes so far as to admit that it is very likely that, in terms of psychological explanations (i.e. a class of “nonrational” explanations), we will never be able to fully explain the creativity of a person like Beethoven. In an intensely revealing statement, Beversluis all but admits the “unexplainability” of certain types of thinking:
Even if we assume for the sake of argument that Beethoven was ‘driven’ by an irresistible creative urge to compose, that still does not take us very far toward a full [emphasis his] psychological explanation of why he composed it or anything else, for that matter. Part of the reason is that in the case of the opening bars of Beethoven’s Fifth we are talking about a series of unique events in need of explanation, whereas in talking about creativity in general we are talking about a class of events that fall under the scope of some scientific law. And it is unlikely that we will ever get explanations of creativity in general [emphasis mine]—not to mention the creative process of a giant like Beethoven—based on any known laws of psychology.[10]
Beversluis seems to be saying that there are classes of events—in this case, creativity—that are so unique, or phenomenal, that he (at least) is doubtful that any full psychological explanation can be given. This, though, sounds eerily familiar to what Lewis is saying about the “phenomenon” of reasoning itself.
In response to both Anscombe’s objection and Beversluis’ slightly different formulation of it, I would like to make several points.
In regards to Anscombe’s objection, I believe she largely succeeds in demonstrating that Lewis has not completely shown that the process involved in reasoning and the physical processes that cause thinking “events” are incompatible. Therefore, if we look at my formulation of Lewis’s argument, we may take issue with point (v). Though naturalism and reasoning might seem incompatible, it has not been shown that they are, in fact, so. Beversluis’s words are apt here:
If I argue ‘If it rains, the picnic will be cancelled; the picnic was not cancelled; therefore, it did not rain,’ my argument is valid because it instantiates a valid argument form known as modus tollens: If p then q, it is not the case that q; therefore it is not the case that p. To be sure, my chain of reasoning is caused by a series of physiological or neurobiological events that take place in my brain. But how does that impugn the validity of my argument?[11]
Thus, as far as Lewis’s argument depends on us accepting the “wholly distinct” separation of the reasoning process and the physical process that causes the thinking event, it fails. There is no logical contradiction between these two spheres of thinking.
However, I am not persuaded that Anscombe’s objection has the force that it might initially seem to have. For it depends on the acceptance of her reasoning that different explanations can be full explanations in an equal way. While I accept that depending on the question being asked, an explanation can serve as the entire explanation to that question, I believe there is a question that precludes all other questions: the question of “ultimate meaning.” That is, I could pose the following question: what is the ultimate explanation (or cause) of the reasoning processes in our brains? Or, what lies behind all other reasons for our reasoning processes? If this question is posed, then in a naturalist framework, we must admit that the ultimate, final explanation is that our reasoning processes are due to a series of chemical processes in our brains. Now, this may not prove that our reasoning is thereby invalid, but it does bring up the issue of significance or value.
Nature or material is value-neutral. Atoms, particles, and the like, no matter how sophisticated the conglomeration (i.e. living beings) are ultimately meaningless, just as in naturalism, the universe itself, is ultimately meaningless. If that is so, then because the most fundamental answer to the question of what is the “explanation” of human reasoning is that it is a result of chemical processes, we must conclude that the process of reasoning, is in the end, ultimately meaningless or valueless. We may assign value to it based on function and arrive at a type of Utilitarian explanation to the “function” of reason, but we can hardly say that in the grand scheme of things, our reasoning has any intrinsic value to it.
Yet, what a far cry this is from how we typically approach the idea of reasoning! I doubt very much if Beversluis would want to draw the conclusion that his entire life’s work—that of philosophy—is ultimately meaningless or valueless. While, at a cognitive level, he may accept the fact that subjective, personal value is all he may ever assign to his own reasoning, and reasoning itself, at a deeper level, I wonder if he does not recoil at this. Do not we who are engaged in philosophical endeavors, seeking truth for truth itself, believe that our endeavors are meaningful or valuable beyond our own personal opinion—or even beyond our biological need to survive as posed by evolution? If so, then we must, at least, see the explanatory power of Lewis’ argument. To believe in naturalism is to acknowledge that our reasoning faculties are ultimately a result of random, natural, evolutionary processes, and while they serve an evolutionary survival function, beyond that, they are ultimately valueless.
As for Beversluis’s formulation, by admitting that explanations rarely serve as the full explanation of our reasoning processes and acknowledging that psychological explanations in particular will likely never be able to explain unique aspects of our reasoning processes, such as the process of creativity, he is conceding to what appears to be the inexplicability of the process of reasoning. He is acknowledging there is a part of the universe—namely our reasoning faculties—that cannot fully be accounted for. Sure, he may acknowledge that undergirding all of this is a physical brain with physical processes; but that is not something a theist will necessarily deny. What the theist will want to affirm, however, is that there is more than the person’s merely physical processes in reasoning: that there is personhood and volition involved that makes such reasoning uniquely and phenomenally human. While Beversluis goes this far in his understanding of the uniqueness of one aspect of our reasoning—creativity—it is not something that his naturalism will easily allow for. Beyond the assertion that naturalism can account for such a phenomenon as human reasoning because obviously the fact that humans exists shows such a phenomenon exists, there is no defense of how naturalism can account for it. Thus, by acknowledging the inexplicability of reasoning, Beversluis strengthens Lewis’s claim that reasoning is something that, in naturalistic terms, cannot be accounted for.
[1] At least in the first edition of Miracles.
[2] Beversluis, 156-157. This is, of course, Beversluis’ summary.
[3] Ibid., 157
[4] Ibid.
[5] Ibid., 158
[6] Ibid.
[7] Ibid., 167.
[8] Beversluis uses this example of Beethoven to make his point, 167-168.
[9] Ibid., 167.
[10] Ibid., 169
[11] Ibid., 165.
C. S. Lewis and the “Argument From Reason”: An Examination and (Modified) Defense, Part IV
IV. Exploring Beversluis’s Rebuttal(s): Lewis Offers “False Dilemmas”
I must confess there is no way to do real justice to Beversluis’s entire case against Lewis’s Argument from Reason in this brief essay. Beversluis spends upwards of fifty pages on this one argument and attacks it from every possible angle. However, by offering two of his strongest objections, we may gain an understanding into the strength—or weakness—of Lewis’s argument as a whole.
Objection #1: Lewis offers only two alternatives: deterministic naturalism and supernaturalism
Beversluis dives in by pointing out that Lewis attempts to allow for delineation between only two options, deterministic naturalism and supernaturalism.[1] Lewis believed that for the naturalist, “nature is a self-contained and closed system.”[2] Beversluis comments that “closed” for Lewis “means causally closed” and thus considers naturalism a form of determinism. By defining naturalism so, Lewis’s argument “depends on the assumption that there are only two alternatives: deterministic naturalism and supernaturalism.”[3] What strikes Beversluis as exceedingly odd is that Lewis pays lip-service to a Quantum Theory as a scientific theory that allows for spontaneity and freedom in the natural systems. Presumably, many of these quantum theorists are naturalists themselves and are, by definition, not deterministic naturalists based on their scientific theory. Yet, Lewis simply passes this alternative by when he writes, “I cannot help thinking they [quantum theorists] mean no more than that the movements of individual units are permanently incalculable to us, not that they are in themselves random and lawless.”[4] Thus Lewis sets up a false dichotomy and need not be accepted.
For my part, I largely agree with Bevesluis here. Lewis does leverage a great deal of his argument against one form of naturalism—mainly determinism. He would like for us to accept reason as something that is not “causally connected” to a great chain of prior physical events, as something that is spontaneous or “free.” And, in a very real sense it does involve a degree of freedom and “intentionality.” However, if we acknowledge that spontaneity is part of “the system,” then the uniqueness of intentional reasoning disappears. The two become compatible.
I wonder, though, if Bevesluis has considered the implications of Quantum Theory. If the universe is an “open” system (at least to some degree) then that leaves open the possibility of something being “outside” or “beyond” the system. That is to say, does Quantum Theory lend very well to naturalism? Is not Naturalism more coherent when nature operates like a machine of causally connected processes, rather than like an organism that is alive? In fact, that is one of the major arguments leveraged against Naturalism: the sheer randomness of nature seems to make the existence of living things—especially reasoning beings—inexplicable. At least with determinism, the Naturalist can retort that the process of cause-and-effect seems to be one of machine-like precision. It seems as though Naturalism is predicated on deterministic processes of cause-and-effect. That is why many biologists, and neurologists are determinists. The whole thing makes more sense—in Naturalism—if all that is, is an unfolding of an inevitable (non-free!) process. So while Beversluis shows a logical “loop-hole” so to speak; he would need to do for deterministic naturalism what C. S. Lewis does not do for indeterministic naturalism: show how it is a faulty view.
[1] Beversluis expresses great angst at Lewis’ constant “false dilemmas”: offering the reader only two (or three) options, one being absurd, and the other by default, imminently more reasonable:
Again and again his refutation depends on the shaky foundation of the straw man and the false dilemma. Either hold (the absurd view) that the feeling of certainty we express by the words ‘therefore’ and ‘must be’ is a ‘mere feeling in the mind’ or grant that reason provides ‘genuine insights’ into reality. Either hold (the absurd view) that there is no such thing as rational inference or grant that reason is ‘independent’ of nature and puts us in touch with something ‘behind’ it…As with the Lunatic or Fiend Dilemma and the Lord, Lunatic, and Fiend Dilemma, these alternatives are not the only ones and they simply do not exhaust out options. Intermediate positions remain open to us. Naturalism is one of them,” in C. S. Lewis and the Search, 193-194.
[2] Beversluis, C. S. Lewis and the Search, 145.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Quoted in Beversluis, C. S. Lewis and the Search, 147.
C. S. Lewis and the “Argument from Reason”: An Examination and (Modified) Defense, Part III
III. Unpacking the Extended Argument in Miracles
In order to feel the weight (and the substance) of Lewis’s argument, we will necessarily have to trek with him through his terms, definitions, and steps. As most philosophical arguments go, the entirety of the argument is built step by step from a common base of definitions. For Lewis we must begin by explaining what we mean by “nature” and “Naturalism,” or in his words, what the Naturalist believes.
Nature/Naturalism
Lewis defines “nature” as that which “happens ‘of itself’ or ‘of its own accord’: what you do not need to labour for; what you will get if you take no measures to stop it.”[1] In other words, nature is that which “just happens.” Now, admittedly, this may be a definition with which the naturalist disagrees with. He or she might be more comfortable by saying that nature is that “which is”—or everything. However, Lewis feels this evades the issue, for of course, the naturalist is going to define it such, since, for him or her, supernaturalism is ruled out ipso facto. Thus Lewis attempts to arrive at a definition of nature that both naturalists and supernaturalists can agree upon.
Assuming that this definition is viable, Lewis then proceeds to explain what the naturalist believes. Accordingly, he or she believes several things: first, that the “ultimate Fact”—the thing that you cannot go behind (i.e. the Origin or First Cause or Event) is a process that is ‘going on of its own accord,’ or naturally.[2] From the first event, every other particular event (like the fact that I am sitting here writing) is the direct result of a prior event, which is a direct result of a prior event, so on, and so on.[3] Thus, spontaneity is outlawed by default, except of course, for the original event. All events, being natural and derivative of the first Event, are causally linked to prior events, and ultimately to the first Event. Being a book about miracles, Lewis points out that miracles, in such a view, are obviously impossible because an “outside” event from this interlocking system of causal connections is ruled out from the beginning. For the naturalist, then, everything that is, occurs within a system of causally connected events going all the way back to the First Event, which itself occurred ‘of its own accord’ or “naturally.” There is nothing that occurs that is not a result of this process. From here, Lewis forges ahead to discuss the implications of Naturalism, and the major difficulty that emerges—the Argument from Reason.
Implications of Naturalism and The Argument
Though Lewis does not initially make the following implication, it does permeate his argument nonetheless. This is the implication that in Naturalism, all that is, is physical—or matter. Thus, for all intents and purposes, Naturalism and Materialism are coterminous. Accordingly, everything that exists is a result of natural and physical processes. Based on this view, Lewis argues that if Naturalism is true, “every finite thing or event must be (in principle) explicable in terms of the Total System.”[4] That is, in principle[5] everything that occurs should be able to be reduced to a natural (and material) process. The act of human thinking, then for the Naturalist, is ultimately the result of natural process—i.e. a series of chemical reactions in the human brain.
With the foundation that, for the naturalist, all events, including thinking events, are the result of material causes, Lewis argument proceeds thus: for knowledge to be “valid,” [6] it must be the result of a certain kind of thinking. To put it simply, it must result from a certain process of reasoning. Lewis asks his readers to consider two senses of the word “because.” The first sense is found in the following sentence: “Grandfather is ill today because he at lobster yesterday.” The second sense is found in this sentence: “Grandfather must be ill today because he hasn’t got up yet (and we know he is an invariably early riser when he is well.”[7] For Lewis, the first statement cannot be an act of genuine knowledge because it is a sheer fact of “Cause-and-Effect.” Certainly it is true in the sense that it occurs, but it cannot be true in the sense that 2+2=4 or in the sense the law of gravity is true because scientists have done a great many measurements and then inferred that there is, indeed, an observable reality of gravity. Rather, the first sentence is just a fact.
The second sentence’s sense of “because” however is the result of a genuine knowledge because it emerges through a process of reasoning. Lewis calls this the “Ground-Consequent” sense, because “The old man’s late rising is not the cause of his disorder but the reason why we believe him to be disordered.”[8] Put differently, the “ground” for why we believe Grandfather to be sick is based on the fact, or consequence of his sleeping in. One does not just observe that ‘Granfather’ is sick; rather, one draws the conclusion based upon the available evidence and the inferences drawn from it. This of course is an example of inductive reasoning; however, the same type of process would be true with an act of deductive reasoning. In either case, the point is that for genuine[9] knowledge to occur, it must happen as a result of this process of reasoning and drawing conclusions.
If we can agree with Lewis (and we may not) up to this point, then according to him, we have a “cardinal” difficulty with naturalism. For in naturalism, everything that occurs, does so in the “Cause-and-Effect” sense—even the “events” of thinking in our brains. For, as we have mentioned, everything that occurs is a result of natural and physical (cause-and-effect) processes. So if the “reasoning” that we do is ultimately not a result of the “Ground-Consequent” of “because,” but a result of a “Cause-and-Effect” physical process (i.e., chemicals moving in our brains) then our knowledge is not “valid” or, to use a more modest word, “warranted.” Lewis therefore draws the following conclusion:
Unless our conclusion is the logical consequent from a ground it will be worthless and could be true only by a fluke. Unless it is the effect of a cause, it cannot occur at all. It looks therefore, as if, in order for a train of thought to have any value, these two systems of connection must apply simultaneously to the same series of mental acts…But unfortunately the two systems are wholly distinct.[10]
According to Lewis, this is devastating for Naturalism. If “valid”—genuine—reasoning arrives only by a process of reasoning, and Naturalism is a theory that say thoughts are “events” that happen by physical causes, then Naturalism ultimately undermines or “disproves” itself. For, Naturalism is a view about the way the world works that is reached by a process of reasoning. Yet, this process of reasoning leads to a view of reality that posits that there is not genuine reasoning! Again, it is like saying, “I reason that there is no reason.” And, it is for this reason that Lewis writes: “It [Naturalism] offers what professes to be a full account of our mental behavior; but this account, on inspection, leaves no room for the acts of knowing or insight on which the whole value of our thinking as a means to truth, depends.”[11]
My own understanding of Lewis’ argument could be formulated as follows:
(i.) Naturalism suggests that the thoughts I have are a result of natural processes—chemical reactions—in my brain.
(ii.) As natural processes they are determined or “automatic”; they simply occur (as events).
(iii.) By reasoning, we typically mean that process by which we make inferences based on information or premises to draw conclusions. In other words, we take an active role (i.e. not automatic) in our coming to “truth,” or knowledge.
(iv.) It is through reason that we come to know something as true.
(v.) Reasoning and Naturalism seem prima facie to be incompatible with one another.
(vi.) Naturalism is a belief about the world that supposedly is arrived at through a process of reasoning.
(vii.) Thus Naturalism is a conclusion, through a process of reasoning, that reasoning is impossible. This, therefore, undermines Naturalism.
(viii.) Thus, we have no ‘reason’ to believe Naturalism to be true, as it is self-defeating.
It would seem that Lewis has a slam-dunk case against Naturalism, but John Beversluis does not think so. With that, we turn to his extensive rebuttal.
[1] Lewis, Miracles, 214.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Ibid. Thus, for Lewis, to be a strict naturalist is to be a determinist.
[4] Lewis, Miracles, 217.
[5] Lewis maintains, that of course, the naturalist does not have to actually produce an explanation that is accurate, for this would be impossible being that scientific knowledge is progressive. However, the naturalist must maintain that “in principle” every event can be explained naturally, 217.
[6] The philosophical term is “warranted” or “justified” belief.
[7] Miracles, 219.
[8] Ibid.
[9] The debate on what constitutes as “warranted” belief among epistemologists far outweighs the current discussion. I think it is safe to conclude that however one arrives at knowledge, it is more valuable to have done so through a process of reasoning.
[10] Ibid.
[11] Miracles, 220.
C. S. Lewis and the “Argument from Reason”: An Examination and Modified Defense, Part II
II. Hints of the “Argument from Reason”[1] in Lewis’s Works
Of Lewis’s major philosophical arguments, the “Argument from Reason” is perhaps his most fully developed presentation.[2] It forms the basis of his entire defense of the possibility of miracles in the book by that name, and is suggested in several of his other major works such as Mere Christianity and The Problem of Pain. This particular argument, as I have mentioned, is increasingly popular among those, such as John Lennox, who are making it a point to respond to the New Atheist’s movement. The argument requires some degree of unpacking and to that we must turn to its fullest treatment in Miracles; but before that, we should see how it is suggested—or hinted (or teased?) at—in some of Lewis’s other, more accessible works.[3]
Mere Christianity
In Mere Christianity, Lewis writes that one of his major arguments against God was that the world was filled with so much injustice that it seemed impossible to have been created by just and loving God. Yet, a problem dawns on him: where do ideas of “justice” and “injustice” come from? If the entire argument against God’s existence is that the world is unjust (i.e. “The Problem of Evil”), where does one go to find a standard in which to make such a judgment. Lewis writes, “What was I comparing the universe with when I called it unjust?”[4] In a world that is, at bottom, meaningless, one’s personal preference is all that one has to make such a claim, but the entire argument is predicated upon the idea that there is really (objectively so) such a thing as justice and injustice, and not just personal preference.[5] It is further predicated on the idea that one’s sense of justice and injustice is, in fact, meaningful or “full of sense.” Yet, if the universe is, itself, meaningless or “senseless,” then to use “sense” (or more accurately, to believe that one’s own view makes sense) to prove it so (i.e. reasoning), is itself, nonsensical. Lewis’ own words are worthy of citing here:
Thus in the very act of trying to prove that God did not exist—in other words, that the whole of reality was senseless—I found I was forced to assume that one part of reality—namely my idea of justice—was full of sense. Consequently, atheism turns out to be too simple. If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning: just as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with eyes, we should never know it was dark. Dark would be a word without meaning. [6]
Though only a brief sketch of an argument, it is clear that Lewis is beginning to make the case that the idea humans can reason and make sense of things, that is, to discover meaning, is irreconcilable with a view of the universe that claims that the universe is meaningless. To go further, to reason toward such a view (i.e. Naturalism) undercuts the view in the first place. This will be explained more fully in Miracles.
The Problem of Pain
Lewis makes almost the identical case in his treatment of The Problem of Pain. In acknowledging the force of the “pessimists” view that the universe is filled with pain, suffering, and could not, therefore, be the design of an omnipotent and benevolent creator, Lewis writes:
There was one question which I never dreamed of raising. I never noticed that the very strength and facility of the pessimists’ case at once poses us a problem. If the universe is so bad, or even half so bad, how on earth did human beings ever come to attribute it to the activeity of a wise and good Creator…The direct inference from black to white, from evil flower to virtuous root, from senseless work to a workman infinitely wise, staggers belief [emphasis mine].[7]
The point here is far less precise than even in Mere Christianity; nevertheless, one can see the hints at the argument even here. How did mankind ever infer—or reason to—a good creator from the evidence provided by the universe? Implied here is the further question: how does one infer to a wise creator, if the world is in fact senseless? The Argument from Reason in Miracles simply flips the question: How does a product of the universe (i.e. human being) infer to a senseless universe (i.e. Naturalism) by an argument based on inference? It is the same as saying, “I reason that there is no reason.”
The Abolition of Man
Lewis’s The Abolition of Man is a tour-de-force in the defense of objective moral values. Though Lewis writes about objective moral values in most of his writings to some degree or another, in this work he makes an extended argument that unless we accept a Tao—a way or set of objective values that transcends nature—we undercut any value system we try to create ourselves. Again, like The Problem of Pain, though the suggestion to the Argument from Reason is brief—and vague—Lewis nonetheless mentions it in passing.
For example, while defending objective values, Lewis at various times discusses the effect of the scientific enterprise that attempts to provide natural explanations to everything. He acknowledges that many will accuse him of attacking science itself, to which he responds: “I deny the charge, of course: and real Natural Philosophers (there are some now alive) will perceive that in defending value I defend inter alia the value of knowledge, which must die like every other when its roots in the Tao are cut.”[8] In other words, according to Lewis, without some appeal to a transcendent source, the value of knowledge—which is valuable through the process of reasoning—is undercut. Put differently, knowledge (of the reasoning kind) is intrinsically valuable when it is grounded in a transcendent source; it is valueless (and meaningless) if it is merely a product of nature. Lewis, thus, ends this work by imploring his listeners[9] to consider the danger of embracing a naturalism that seeks to explain everything in naturalistic terms: “You cannot go on ‘explaining away’ for ever: you will find that you have explained explanation itself away.”[10] This reference to explaining away “explanation itself” is a small, but clear reference to the Argument from Reason. With these acknowledgments of the argument’s abbreviated occurrences in Lewis’s major works, we now turn to his full length treatment of it in his work Miracles.
[1] I choose to follow the lead of Beversluis, and title Lewis’s presentation of this argument, as the “Argument from Reason.” I do not believe Lewis every gives such a title, but for referencing, I will.
[2] It could be argued that based on the totality of his works, Lewis’ version of the Moral Argument is the most fully developed. Still, I find the level of rigor used to develop the Argument from Reason in Miracles to be greater than his development of the Moral Argument, though the Moral Argument appears more frequently and in more detail across his works.
[3] In surveying Lewis’ major works, it is my opinion that Lewis “sprinkles” his major arguments throughout all of his works, but deals with each of them fully in, at least, one work. In other words, Lewis will take an argument such as the Argument from Reason and develop it fully in a book like Miracles (or his version of the Moral Argument and develop it fully in The Abolition of Man), but then reference them throughout his other works. These references then serve a sort of footnote to his major work on the subject. I mention this because Lewis is often criticized for quickly and superficially presenting an argument without treating it rigorously. I think this is incorrect however. Rather his quick “mentions” or hints of the argument serve as glimpses of the full treatment of the argument given elsewhere.
[4] Lewis, Mere Christianity, 30.
[5] This continues his treatment of objective morality.
[6] Lewis, Mere Christianity, 30.
[7] Lewis, The Problem of Pain, 374.
[8] Lewis, The Abolition of Man, 489.
[9] This work was originally a series of lectures.
[10] Lewis, The Abolition of Man, 490.
C. S. Lewis and the “Argument From Reason”: An Examination and (Modified) Defense, Part I
I. Introduction: Lewis as Philosopher?
Among the most influential Christian writers of the 20th century, I doubt that there is serious debate as to who would make the top of such a list. C. S. (Clives Staples) Lewis[1], though deceased for almost fifty years[2] continues to be one of the—if not the—most spoken name among Christians attempting to articulate a “reasonable faith.” His works are as popular today as they have ever been. Lewis was a man of many talents and was immensely successful in a wide range of interests, including Christian apologetics—what he is, perhaps, most known for, Children’s literature with the Chronicles of Narnia, Sci-Fi Fantasy with his Space Trilogy, and numerous articles and essay on various aspects of the Christian life. He wrote a fascinating and intricate autobiography of his conversion from Atheism to Christianity; moreover, he chronicled his personal odyssey through the experience of grief, after losing his wife to cancer, in A Grief Observed. In terms of literary output, Lewis covered the spectrum of genres and did so with a command of the English language that fans and critics, alike, equally appreciate and envy. One more accolade to mention: as a tutor of Literature at Oxford, Lewis commanded high respect as a literary critic. Among men of literary talent, most will agree that there are few equals with Lewis.
I do not mention these many accomplishments and talents to further bolster an already iconic reputation, but to make the following inquiry: among Lewis intellectual gifts, is philosophy one of them? From his writings, it is quite clear that he approaches issues of Theism (and consequently Christianity) philosophically even before he approaches it theologically.[3] From his writings, Lewis intends his philosophical approach to be taken seriously. In fact, he is so confident in his philosophically-laden approach that he makes the following claim: “I am not asking anyone to accept Christianity if his best reasoning tells him that the weight of the evidence is against it.”[4]
Just how well does Lewis’s challenge hold up? John Beversluis, a non-theistic philosopher takes seriously Lewis’ bold challenge, and uses it as an occasion to offer a full-length critical study entitled, C. S. Lewis and the Search for Rational Religion. In his work, Beversluis interacts with Lewis’s main three philosophical arguments, what he titles: “The Argument from Desire,” “The Argument from Reason,” and Lewis’s version of the “Moral Argument.” He also interacts with a number of important claims that Lewis makes on issues such as the divinity of Jesus, the “case” for Christianity, and the problem of evil (or pain). After examining Lewis’s arguments, Beversluis concludes, “my best reasoning told me that the weight of the evidence, as presented by Lewis, is against it, and I wrote a book to explain why.”[5]
As someone who has found Lewis’s arguments for Theism and Christian faith compelling, the aim of this essay is quite simple. I intend to investigate whether Beversluis succeeds—and if so, to what extent—in refuting Lewis’ philosophical conclusions. While to some degree, conclusions have already been reached in my mind, this writing is itself an exercise in philosophical engagement with an opposing point of view (i.e. Beversluis’s). The length of this essay will not prevent interaction with the entirety of Beversluis’s work—or with each of Lewis’s main arguments for that matter. I will have to limit interaction to one of Lewis’s arguments: the Argument from Reason. I have chosen this one because I find it to be the most rigorous of the group. With that in mind, the essay will proceed as follows: first, I will explore where the Argument from Reason appears in Lewis’s other major philosophical works. Second, I will closely examine Lewis’s argument as it is found in its most rigorous form in the third chapter of his work, Miracles. Thirdly, I will investigate and interact with Beversluis’s rebuttal of Lewis’s argument. While acknowledging that he does succeed in showing weaknesses in the argument as Lewis presents it, it is hard from clear that the argument is without merit. Quite the opposite, I believe that a modified and modestly presented form of it provides strong explanatory power for the belief in Theism.
[1] All references from Lewis’s works throughout this essay will come from, C. S. Lewis, The Complete C. S. Lewis Signature Classics, (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2002).
[2] Lewis died the same day as the assassination of Robert F. Kennedy, and for this reason, passed almost unbeknownst to those who are familiar with his writings. This is quite remarkable, considering that he was immensely popular even during his lifetime.
[3] For example, in explaining his approach to the issues of whether miracles are possible, he makes this noteworthy statement: “If we hold a philosophy which excludes the supernatural, this is what we always shall say [that we are victims of illusion when confronted with alleged miracle]. What we learn from experience depends on the kind of philosophy we bring to experience. It is therefore useless to appeal to experience before we have settled, as well as we can, the philosophical questions,” in Miracles, 211. In Mere Christianity Lewis does not begin theologically or scripturally to explain the doctrines of Christianity. Instead, he begins by discussing morality, eventually making the “Moral Argument,” thus beginning even a book that is supposedly about Christian doctrine, with a philosophical approach.
[4] Quoted in John Beversluis’s work, C. S. Lewis and the Search for Rational Religion—Revised and Updated (Amherst, NY: Promethius Books, 2007), 9.
[5] Beversluis, C. S. Lewis and the Search, 9. This is actually in the preface to the second edition.
VII. Conclusion: The Alternative of the Christian Narrative of Love
In Islam, we have a unified narrative that, proceeding from the understanding of Allah as Creator and King, offers a cohesive understanding of humanity. Why do I exist? To serve Allah as servant and representative. What is my purpose? To be His viceregent on earth. What is my nature? I am both clay and divine Spirit and am capable of choosing which I will obey. What is my destination? Based on my allegiance—expressed by actions—I will be rewarded with Paradise or punished with Hell. My relationship with Allah is one of King and servant or Creator and master. Islam is a truly cohesive worldview and I hope that this essay expresses the Islamic faith in its best possible light.
As a Christian, I see many similarities between my faith and that of Muslims. I see that I, too, am created from dust but breathed into by the breath of God. I see that I am made in the image of God, and as such, am given the task (and privilege) of reflecting God in the earth; I am His representative. However, with the similarities in mind, I believe the Christian narrative offers a distinctively different understanding of God and humanity than does Islam. This is nowhere more apparent than in the concept of relationship.[1]
Though as we have mentioned there is a relationship between Allah and humanity, even when rightly understood, we must admit that such a relationship hardly contains any mutuality or the possibility of mutual affection. That is, humanity cannot affect Allah in any way.[2] Thus, intimacy between God and man is not possible in Islam. This is because the concept of relationship is not essential to the being of Allah; before creation there was no one for Allah to be in relationship with. In the end, the best humankind can hope for is for Allah to be pleased with their actions and reward them accordingly. They can never hope for an intimate relationship expressed most powerfully by reciprocal love.
Christianity affirms that reciprocating, sacrificial love is the very foundation of a doctrine of God, and therefore, is the very goal for all of creation, and thus, for humanity as well. The doctrine of the Trinity—though radically rejected by Muslims—asserts that intrinsic to the very nature of God is the idea of relationship defined by love. Though I cannot begin to adequately explain the mystery of the Triune God, it is enough to say that from all eternity, God has existed as a divine community of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and that this community has always existed in loving relationship. In the Christian faith, God does not create a world where people may serve him; rather He creates with the purpose of expressing the love that has always existed within the Godhead and inviting humanity into such relationship. Participation in the divine life—of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—is the aim of humanity. It is not surprising then, to discover that God as King is not the primary way God seeks to be known in Christianity. Instead, God most ultimately seeks to be known, God as Father.[3] We can say then, that the primary relationship between humanity is not King and servant, but Father and son. It just so happens that God the Father is also God the King, and is, therefore, also worthy of faithful service. However it is as a son and not a servant.
This is the essential difference between a doctrine of humanity in Islam and Christianity: in the Christian worldview, humanity’s existence is because God’s overflowing love pours forth in an act of creation. Humanity’s purpose is to accept and reciprocate that divine love and eternally participate in the divine nature. It just so happens that this also fulfills the role of bearing God’s image and being God’s representative in the earth. Humanity’s ultimate goal and destination is to dwell eternally with the loving God of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and reflect the glory of this love for all eternity. And in my mind and heart, this “story” is the one in which I find my existential longings most satisfied.
[1] I am indebted to Ida Glasar’s article, “The Concept of Relationship as a Key to the Comparative Understanding of Christianity and Islam,” Thermelios 11.2 (January 1986), 57-60, for the insights expressed.
[2] Behishti and Bahonhar write, “”Man’s relationship with Allah is not that of hostility or rivalry for Allah is self-sufficient and all-powerful. Even if all men disobey him, he is going to lose nothing,” in “Man,” Philosophy of Islam.
[3] Glaser writes, “”Man can relate with God himself: indeed, it is for relationship that he is made. He is to relate with his maker in mutual love as a son relates to a father,” in “The Concept of Relationship,” 58.
You can take everything I have.. 