I wanted to respond to one of the comments made on YouTube about this debate. I think the comment occurs on the tenth part. Roughly, the commenter says something like this: “There is something ‘problematic’ about this debate: He [i.e., Jacoby] is having an argument with a guy [Shermer] who just throws his arms up in the air and says ‘I just don’t know’.” Perhaps this is what morgantj was getting at when he said it sucked.
I can sympathize a bit with the YouTube commenter. I find myself in agreement with his sense of exasperation: there does seem to be something “problematic” about Shermer’s style of argument. And, what’s more, it’s the same sort of thing that I’ve found problematic—and that’s been troubling me—about some of the conversations around here. (That’s why I bring it up.)
In a word, what I find problematic can be summed up by the term “militant agnostic” (which Shermer uses to refer to himself). Shermer describes his militant agnosticism like this: “I don’t know; and YOU DON’T KNOW EITHER!” The “you don’t know either” part of the formulation is usually shoved right into the other person’s face. I think that that is the part of the formulation that typically raises people’s hackles. But, my own complaint isn’t so much with the in-your-face part of the formulation; rather my complaint is with an assumption that the whole formulation itself seems to rely on: viz., that there is no knowledge to be had here at all. I want to argue that, besides being “militant”, this agnosticism is also really a dogmatic agnosticism. This “militant agnosticism” is put forward as if it is the most rational and sensible position. But is it? I will argue that, at least in most instances, it is not the most rational option.
I find this same sort of dogmatic agnosticism prevalent in these forums: it is evidenced, for example, by the lack of suggestions when it comes to the question: “what is the positive message that we [“skeptics”] are putting forth to fill the void that is left by the lack of theism?” In many conversations of this ilk I find the spirit of the discussion to be tantamount to just throwing one’s arms up in the air and saying: “it’s not OUR job to make positive pronouncements.” But there is an assumption in such a response about the role that skepticism is supposed to play. The assumption is that the job of the “skeptic” (in this sense) is not to advance theses; rather, the job of the “skeptic” is purely reactionary: it involves poking holes in the positive arguments of others.
Now I suppose one could argue that, strictly speaking, you ought not come down one way or the other on the statement: “there is a computer screen in front of my face.” I could tell you some story about the physics of perception, like: what actually forms the image on your retina—i.e., what you see—is not the real object itself; rather the object of your perception is just an image caused by photons of light that are reflected from the object. So, one might proceed, since we can’t be certain that the object we perceive is exactly as it appears to be (or that there’s even really a computer screen there at all), then the most rational position to take with regard to the nature of the external world is to remain agnostic about how it really is. In practice, I think it is impossible to maintain this philosophical stance towards the world. But, aside from the practical point, is this even the most rational attitude to take?
There’s skepticism with a little “s” and then there is Skepticism with a big “S”. Science itself is not inherently Skeptical. Rather, it advances by making hypotheses, which are conjectures about how the universe might be. It’s procedures for gaining this picture of reality may be aided and abetted along the way by a healthy dose of skepticism—e.g. testing and re-testing, trying out other hypotheses, etc. This approach involves a targeted skepticism rather than a blanket Skepticism. (On these grounds we might argue that the god hypothesis is not testable at all; and so it is not really a “hypothesis” in the ordinary scientific sense of the word.)
There is a sort of saying (or understanding) in philosophy, viz. that: No one is REALLY a skeptic. That is, no one really embraces or ascribes to the skeptic’s view wholesale. Of course, philosophers constantly appeal to “the skeptic”. But the point of making such appeals is not, ultimately, to side with the skeptic (and that’s because we don’t think he has the most rational position!). Rather, the point of appealing to “the skeptic”, in philosophy (as in science), is to try to get as clear as we can about just exactly what it is that we are asserting when we assert a theory about nature.
This hypothetical “skeptic” sets the bar on what counts as “knowledge” impossibly high. He sets it at 100%, deductive certainty. But we can never have such certainty (i.e., the 100% variety) about most things. Nonetheless, we can still coherently talk about “knowing” this or that. But, it is the equation of absolute certainty with “knowledge” that I think the militant agnostic has in mind when he says “I don’t know and you don’t know either.”
In contrast to the militant agnostic’s use of “know”, I think that we can reasonably say that we do “know” there is no god, just as we can say that we “know” there is no Thor or Poseidon, etc. Can I prove these things don’t exist? Can I show you that they don’t? No; but that’s just the point. The use of “know” here is not: “I have SEEN that it isn’t so”; rather, “know” is being used in the following sense: “this is THE BEST or most reasonable working hypothesis of the day.” It is not as if one would have to scour every inch of the universe—look under every rock—before one could finally say: “nope, I know that this universe doesn’t contain a god.” The reason why this is so, I think, has to do with the grammar of the word “to know.” We typically don’t use it in cases of things that can’t be doubted (as in: the perception of the screen in front of your face), tested (as in: god, the teapot, etc.), or observed (as in: what came before the big bang).