I was recently sent an interesting piece on "God vs. Science" (see below), a fictional dialog that is actually quite interesting once you get past the absurd dichotomy suggested by the title “God vs. Science”, an untenable proposition from both a theological and a scientific standpoint.
Theologically, God could not be against science because if He created the world and is thereby reflected in the world, and if science is the study of that world, then science might be described the study of God as reflected in the world. (Consider Bahá'u'lláh’s statement that "Nature is God's will and its expression in and through the contingent world").
Likewise, science cannot be ‘against’ God for at least one of the following two reasons. First, if science were defined by its OBJECT of study and that object were necessarily tangible (a common misconception), then God would be outside of its scope of inquiry (along with most of what it currently does cover, like gravity, evolution or thought), and science would have nothing to say about the matter, much less against it, unless you hold that science’s lack of tools to study something proves its non-existence, which is outrageously reductionist.
Second, if science is defined rather by its METHOD of study, then there is no reason inquiries into God should be less accessible to that method than gravity, evolution or thought. This was masterfully demonstrated by the late William Hatcher, notably in his book on “
Minimalism”, for those interested in pursuing this fascinating topic further (you can download it for free at this link).
But I also found the dialog deeply disturbing, not because of the actual content of the arguments offered by either side, which were good, but rather because of the adversarial way in which they were presented. Not only are God and science pitted against each other, but the professor proceeds as if he were a litigation attorney, establishing the plaintiff and defendant (God vs. Science), using courtroom theatrics, belittling his students, and leaving them speechless, squirming, voices cracking. This goes on until one of the students is able to turn the tables and cause the same responses in the professor, who finally sits down in defeat. And through all this, a “good semester” is understood to be full of adversarial-style debating, side-taking and verbal fencing matches.
This propensity for thinking in polar opposites and treating inquiry as a power struggle, which is very common in Western academia, unfortunately tends to obscure more than it illuminates. First of all, participants in this sort of battle of the wits simply do not listen to each other. Both sides center their full attention on maximizing the weight of their own arguments and minimizing those of the other, instead of having a mutually-enriching give and take.
This creates a downward spiral of non-communication, because the more we feel misunderstood, the more we try to explain ourselves, the more we are perceived as pushing our ideas on others, the more they increase their resistance to what we are saying, the more they stop listening to and trying to understand us. The outcome is that both parties feel like the other is trying to impose things on them and not really trying to comprehend what they are saying.
When we go into a discussion assuming that ‘we’ are right and ‘they’ are wrong, as soon as anyone has been conveniently categorized as a member of the other camp, there is little to learn from them and much to teach them. A case in point is the fact that for years the Bahá'í belief that evil has no objective existence but is the absence of good (see below) has met resistance from Christians. Now that the idea comes from Christian quarters in the form of the “God vs. Science” piece, it is eagerly sent around the world by other Christians as if it came right out of the Bible.
The adversarial approach tends to assume a PRESET position of ‘truth’ based on what we would like to think we know and what we fear having torn down, instead of taking a LEARNING stance of ‘search’ based on the humble recognition of how little we really do know and how much would like to discover (the mark of a true scientist, philosopher and/or believer).
In the God vs. Science debate, for example, if instead of starting a power struggle the professor had taken a learning stance, he could have started out by making a list of arguments for and against the existence of God, asked whether anyone had any others to add, and then invited a critical analysis of each one, with a view to enriching the thinking of all, himself included.
My son had a troubling experience with the adversarial approach when he was a child. Unbeknownst to us, his school was promoting the use of debates as a teaching tool, and had chosen racism as one of the topics. Since nobody else wanted to argue in favor of such an unpopular belief (it lost its status as a ‘science’ following WWII and since then took on the alias of 'xenophobia'), my son finally accepted, not without some reluctance.
Being a brilliant child, he won the debate against a good friend of his. He came home perturbed and asked through streaming tears how it was possible for such a falsehood to win a debate. He had been raised in the tradition of Bahá'í “
consultation”, which is based on principles of non-adversarial dialog whose purpose is a sincere search for truth.
In the Bahá'í approach, one listens attentively to others, in an earnest attempt to learn as much as possible from them, and in turn tries to contribute frankly but courteously whatever might be constructive to the dialog. It is a win-win situation. In contrast, the goal of debate is to overly emphasize the weaknesses of each other’s points, in order to discredit them, and exaggerate the strenghts of one's position in order to 'win' the argument. In the end, both lose the opportunity to gain something useful from the other, and society as a whole loses through the corrosive influence of adversarial relations.
Both approaches develop intellectual capacity and skills, but they have profound differences. Consultation illuminates the issue at hand while preserving the unity of the group, which is essential to joint action. Debate, on the other hand, clouds the issue in the dust of rhetoric and divides participants against each other, creating and deepening rivalries, and making joint action far less likely. As Alfie Kohn says in “
No Contest - The Case Against Competition: why we lose in our race to win”
“The practical emphasis in debate is on tying logical knots, sounding persuasive… The point is not to arrive at a fuller understanding of the question at hand or to form genuine convictions. . . [A] premium is placed on not having any; believing in something could interfere with one’s ability to win on both sides of the issue. This arrangement is usually defended on the grounds that it forces participants to see both points of view, but it does so in a way that promotes a kind of cynical relativism: no position is better than any other since any position can be successfully defended.”
I guess that for me the most disturbing thing about the “God vs. Science” piece was to see ‘religion’, which is supposed to be a force for social cohesion, using adversarialism to further a position, especially one like the existence of God. This probably should not come as a surprise, however, as the modern-day Western university and --hence-- scientific tradition grew out of the all-male, often misogynistic Catholic monasteries and cathedral schools of medieval Europe.
These schools were characterized by rigorous discipline (beatings and adversarial methods of teaching and testing) and a militaristic culture with a highly martial subject matter. Students saw themselves as ‘warriors’ in training for spiritual missions or even physical battle against ‘heretics’ and ‘heathens’. It was precisely this seedbed that gave way to the adversarial epistemology, teaching methods and ritualized enmity among teachers and students that characterize today’s academia, as illustrated by “God vs. Science”.
Of course, one cannot ignore the tremendous contributions that these institutions have made to scientific advancement, which some say are DUE to their adversarial tradition, and others say were DESPITE it. But at what cost? It sustains unnecessarily prolonged and costly debates over issues that many years later are finally resolved as not having been contradictory after all but rather complementary (like the nature vs. nurture and the wave vs. particle debates).
What is worse, while clouding the matters discussed, these debates often distract attention from many of the underlying issues, which are often far more important than those receiving the most attention. It is like so many physicians arguing over how to abate the symptoms while the patient dies of an undiagnosed disease.
Worse yet, the debate culture discourages the contributions of less aggressively-minded thinkers from all cultures and walks of life, and those who prefer to avoid an environment of adversarialism. This tends to privilege mainstream male scholars, forcing women and other ‘minority’ groups to either slip queitly into the sidelines or replicate the dominant male culture in order to ‘survive’ in a dog-eat-dog style academia. As a result, severe limits are placed on the diversity of perspectives available to address the critical issues facing the survival of the entire human race at this vital turning point in history.
That this outcome is not due to an adversarial human nature is evident, among other things, in the fact that it is not common to all or even most cultures, but has historical roots. It is purportedly a heritage of the ancient Greeks, whose tools of formal logic and rhetoric were wielded like weapons in the “agora” during intellectual contests aimed to defeat an opponent as surely as an athlete in the gymnasium or a soldier on the battlefield.
Interestingly, the very word “agora” derives from the Greek “agon”, meaning contest, which has given rise to terms such as “agonistic” (characterized by contest or struggle) and “antagonism” (acting in opposition or hostility). Even the word “argument”, originally meaning a set of logical propositions, has come to be associated with an adversarial discussion.
Sophists --itinerant philosophers-- such as Protagoras developed this art to such a point that they claimed that even the weakest side of any argument could prevail if its defender used the right rhetorical tools. This is disturbing, because it means not only that the search for truth becomes a battleground of the wits, but also that it no longer matters who is right or wrong, but who has mastered the best weapons. Even today we find this approach cultivated in society, from school debates to court rooms, from family relations to party politics.
In sum, the adversarial approach has been found to have deleterious effects on scientific inquiry, on religion’s ability to unite, and on society in general. It has been shown not to be part and parcel of human nature but a culturally-learned attitude and behavior. There are other alternatives available, which are much more effective in achieving real progress.
So if we truly want to foster a new culture of peace and mutualism in the world, then it would stand to reason that these alternatives should be promoted and developed, and that we would stand to gain from cultivating in ourselves and others more mutualistic attitudes and practices.
ANNEX I:
GOD VS. SCIENCE A science professor begins his school year with a lecture to the students, "Let me explain the problem science has with religion." The atheist professor of philosophy pauses before his class and then asks one of his new students to stand.
"You're a Christian, aren't you, son?"
"Yes sir," the student says.
"So you believe in God?"
"Absolutely."
"Is God good?"
"Sure! God's good."
"Is God all-powerful? Can God do anything?"
"Yes."
"Are you good or evil?"
"The Bible says I'm evil."
The professor grins knowingly. "Aha! The Bible!" He considers for a moment. "Here's one for you. Let's say there's a sick person over here and you can cure him. You can do it. Would you help him? Would you try?"
"Yes sir, I would."
"So you're good...!"
"I wouldn't say that."
"But why not say that? You'd help a sick and maimed person if you could. Most of us would if we could. But God doesn't."
The student does not answer, so the professor continues. "He doesn't, does he? My brother was a Christian who died of cancer, even though he prayed to Jesus to heal him. How is this Jesus good? Hmmm? Can you answer that one?" The student remains silent. "No, you can't, can you?" the professor says. He takes a sip of water from a glass on his desk to give the student time to relax.
"Let's start again, young fella. Is God good?"
"Er...yes," the student says.
"Is Satan good?"
The student doesn't hesitate on this one. "No."
"Then where does Satan come from?"
The student falters. "From God"
"That's right. God made Satan, didn't he? Tell me, son. Is there evil in this world?"
"Yes, sir."
"Evil's everywhere, isn't it? And God did make everything, correct?"
"Yes."
"So who created evil?" The professor continued, "If God created everything, then God created evil, since evil exists, and according to the principle that our works define who we are, then God is evil." Again, the student has no answer.
"Is there sickness? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness? All these terrible things, do they exist in this world?"
The student squirms on his feet. "Yes."
"So who created them?"
The student does not answer again, so the professor repeats his question. "Who created them?" There is still no answer. Suddenly the lecturer breaks away to pace in front of the classroom. The class is mesmerized. "Tell me," he continues onto another student. "Do you believe in Jesus Christ, son?"
The student's voice betrays him and cracks. "Yes, professor, I do."
The old man stops pacing. "Science says you have five senses you use to identify and observe the world around you. Have you ever seen Jesus?"
"No sir. I've never seen Him."
"Then tell us if you've ever heard your Jesus?"
"No, sir, I have not."
"Have you ever felt your Jesus, tasted your Jesus or smelt your Jesus? Have you ever had any sensory perception of Jesus Christ, or God for that matter?"
"No, sir, I'm afraid I haven't."
"Yet you still believe in him?"
"Yes."
"According to the rules of empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science says your God doesn't exist. What do you say to that, son?"
"Nothing," the student replies. "I only have my faith."
"Yes, faith," the professor repeats. "And that is the problem science has with God. There is no evidence, only faith."
The student stands quietly for a moment, before asking a question of His own. "Professor, is there such thing as heat?"
"Yes," the professor replies. "There's heat."
"And is there such a thing as cold?"
"Yes, son, there's cold too."
"No sir, there isn't."
The professor turns to face the student, obviously interested. The room suddenly becomes very quiet. The student begins to explain. "You can have lots of heat, even more heat, super-heat, mega-heat, unlimited heat, white heat, a little heat or no heat, but we don't have anything called 'cold'. We can hit up to 458 degrees below zero, which is no heat, but we can't go any further after that. There is no such thing as cold; otherwise we would be able to go colder than the lowest -458 degrees."
"Every body or object is susceptible to study when it has or transmits energy, and heat is what makes a body or matter have or transmit energy. Absolute zero (-458 F) is the total absence of heat. You see, sir, cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. Heat we can measure in thermal units because heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it." Silence across the room. A pen drops somewhere in the classroom, sounding like a hammer.
"What about darkness, professor. Is there such a thing as darkness?"
"Yes," the professor replies without hesitation. "What is night if it isn't darkness?"
"You're wrong again, sir. Darkness is not something; it is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light, but if you have no light constantly you have nothing and it's called darkness, isn't it? That's the meaning we use to define the word." "In reality, darkness isn't. If it were, you would be able to make darkness darker, wouldn't you?"
The professor begins to smile at the student in front of him. This will be a good semester. "So what point are you making, young man?"
"Yes, professor. My point is, your philosophical premise is flawed to start with, and so your conclusion must also be flawed."
The professor's face cannot hide his surprise this time. "Flawed? Can you explain how?"
"You are working on the premise of duality," the student explains. "You argue that there is life and then there's death; a good God and a bad God. You are viewing the concept of God as something finite, something we can measure. Sir, science can't even explain a thought. It uses electricity and magnetism, but has never seen, much less fully understood either one. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing. Death is not the opposite of life, just the absence of it." "Now tell me, professor. Do you teach your students that they evolved from a monkey?"
"If you are referring to the natural evolutionary process, young man, yes, of course I do."
"Have you ever observed evolution with your own eyes, sir?"
The professor begins to shake his head, still smiling, as he realizes where the argument is going. A very good semester, indeed.
"Since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an on-going endeavor, are you not teaching your opinion, sir? Are you now not a scientist, but a preacher?" The class is in uproar. The student remains silent until the commotion has subsided.
"To continue the point you were making earlier to the other student, let me give you an example of what I mean." The student looks around the room. "Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the professor's brain?" The class breaks out into laughter. "Is there anyone here who has ever heard the professor's brain, felt the professor's brain, touched or smelt the professor's brain? No one appears to have done so. So, according to the established rules of empirical, stable, demonstrable protocol, science says that you have no brain, with all due respect, sir. So if science says you have no brain, how can we trust your lectures, sir?"
Now the room is silent. The professor just stares at the student, his face unreadable. Finally, after what seems an eternity, the old man answers. "I guess you'll have to take them on faith." "Now, you accept that there is faith, and, in fact, faith exists with life," the student continues. "Now, sir, is there such a thing as evil?" Now uncertain, the professor responds, "Of course, there is. We see it everyday. It is in the daily example of man's inhumanity to man. It is in the multitude of crime and violence everywhere in the world. These manifestations are nothing else but evil."
To this the student replied, "Evil does not exist sir, or at least it does not exist unto itself. Evil is simply the absence of God. It is just like darkness and cold, a word that man has created to describe the absence of God. God did not create evil. Evil is the result of what happens when man does not have God's love present in his heart. It's like the cold that comes when there is no heat or the darkness that comes when there is no light."
The professor sat down.
ANNEX II:
THE NONEXISTENCE OF EVIL(A talk by ‘Abdu'l-Bahá, in “
Some Answered Questions”, pp. 262-263)
“The true explanation of this subject is very difficult. Know that beings are of two kinds: material and spiritual, those perceptible to the senses and those intellectual.
“Things which are sensible are those which are perceived by the five exterior senses; thus those outward existences which the eyes see are called sensible. Intellectual things are those which have no outward existence but are conceptions of the mind. For example, mind itself is an intellectual thing which has no outward existence. All man's characteristics and qualities form an intellectual existence and are not sensible.
“Briefly, the intellectual realities, such as all the qualities and admirable perfections of man, are purely good, and exist. Evil is simply their nonexistence. So ignorance is the want of knowledge; error is the want of guidance; forgetfulness is the want of memory; stupidity is the want of good sense. All these things have no real existence.
“In the same way, the sensible realities are absolutely good, and evil is due to their nonexistence -- that is to say, blindness is the want of sight, deafness is the want of hearing, poverty is the want of wealth, illness is the want of health, death is the want of life, and weakness is the want of strength.
“Nevertheless a doubt occurs to the mind -- that is, scorpions and serpents are poisonous. Are they good or evil, for they are existing beings? Yes, a scorpion is evil in relation to man; a serpent is evil in relation to man; but in relation to themselves they are not evil, for their poison is their weapon, and by their sting they defend themselves. But as the elements of their poison do not agree with our elements -- that is to say, as there is antagonism between these different elements, therefore, this antagonism is evil; but in reality as regards themselves they are good.
“The epitome of this discourse is that it is possible that one thing in relation to another may be evil, and at the same time within the limits of its proper being it may not be evil. Then it is proved that there is no evil in existence; all that God created He created good. This evil is nothingness; so death is the absence of life. When man no longer receives life, he dies. Darkness is the absence of light: when there is no light, there is darkness. Light is an existing thing, but darkness is nonexistent. Wealth is an existing thing, but poverty is non-existing.
“Then it is evident that all evils return to nonexistence. Good exists; evil is nonexistent.”
