Time Immortal

was noted for having published a number of papers, starting (if memory serves) in about the 1950s, advancing an atheistic philosophy based on his studies in biology. Then, in the early years of this century, he changed his mind, and ‘converted’ to deism. In November of 2007, he released a book entitled There Is a God: How the World’s Most Notorious Atheist Changed His Mind, detailing the process of his conversion and the reasoning behind it.

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And now, Professor Flew has taken Richard Dawkins to task with a scathing review of The God Delusion.

The God Delusion by the atheist writer Richard Dawkins, is remarkable in the first place for having achieved some sort of record by selling over a million copies. But what is much more remarkable than that economic achievement is that the contents – or rather lack of contents – of this book show Dawkins himself to have become what he and his fellow secularists typically believe to be an impossibility: namely, a secularist bigot. (Helpfully, my copy of The Oxford Dictionary defines a bigot as ‘an obstinate or intolerant adherent of a point of view’).

The fault of Dawkins as an academic (which he still was during the period in which he composed this book although he has since announced his intention to retire) was his scandalous and apparently deliberate refusal to present the doctrine which he appears to think he has refuted in its strongest form.

…an academic attacking some ideological position which s/he believes to be mistaken must of course attack that position in its strongest form. This Dawkins does not do in the case of Einstein and his failure is the crucial index of his insincerity of academic purpose and therefore warrants me in charging him with having become, what he has probably believed to be an impossibility, a secularist bigot.

…

On page 82 of The God Delusion is a remarkable note. It reads ‘We might be seeing something similar today in the over-publicised tergiversation of the philosopher Antony Flew, who announced in his old age that he had been converted to belief in some sort of deity (triggering a frenzy of eager repetition all around the internet).’

What is important about this passage is not what Dawkins is saying about Flew but what he is showing here about Dawkins. For if he had had any interest in the truth of the matter of which he was making so much he would surely have brought himself to write me a letter of enquiry. (When I received a torrent of enquiries after an account of my conversion to Deism had been published in the quarterly of the Royal Institute of Philosophy I managed — I believe — eventually to reply to every letter.)

This whole business makes all too clear that Dawkins is not interested in the truth as such but is primarily concerned to discredit an ideological opponent by any available means.

Not that it should come as any surprise that someone like Dawkins would end up being little more than a dyed-in-the-wool bigot; after a man goes his disciples, of course, and the average Dawkins disciple is not what one might term a paragon of compassion and understanding.

And Flew has it exactly right. Vox Day, in his book The Irrational Atheist, noted as much, pointing out that much of Dawkins’ bestseller is devoted to denigrating opponents more than to actually presenting a coherent philosophy supported by evidence (indeed, Day noted that the evidence itself was rather sorely lacking, in addition to the incoherency of the philosophy being presented). The God Delusion is not a work of science (or philosophy, for that matter) as much as it is a series of one-sided (and two-sided) vendettas finding their expression in print.

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Something for my misguided atheistic readers to consider.

During the year just past, much attention was paid to a spate of atheist tracts, notably Sam Harris‘ Letter to a Christian Nation, Christopher Hitchens‘ God Is Not Great, and Richard Dawkins‘ The God Delusion. Less attention was paid to a spate of books by scientists who happen also to be believers - biologist Joan Roughgarden’s Evolution and Christian Faith, astronomer Owen Gingerich’s , and geneticist Francis Collins‘ The Language of God.

Though the media buzz has tended to focus on the science-vs.-religion angle, it is worth noting that only four of the aforementioned books are by scientists and three of those argue against such a conflict. That said, it is also worth noting that none of the books is by a theologian, and Dawkins’ book suffers - as does Hitchens’ - not only from a relentlessly hectoring tone, but also from a tenuous understanding of both Philosophy and Theology. (In fairness, Dawkins seems to have read the Bible pretty thoroughly and is openly appreciative of the Authorized Version’s glorious language and literary significance.)

Christoph Schönborn’s Chance or Purpose offers a look from the theologian’s side. Schönborn, the cardinal archbishop of Vienna, studied theology under Joseph Ratzinger, now Pope Benedict XVI. Together, they edited the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

Schönborn’s new book may be said to have evolved out of an article of his that appeared in the New York Times in July 2005 headlined “Finding God in Nature,” in which the cardinal seemed to place Catholic doctrine uncomfortably in alignment with intelligent design theory.

In his book, however, he goes out of his way repeatedly to differentiate between evolution as the best scientific explanation we have of how species come about and evolution as an ideology maintaining that natural selection has rendered all religious faith untenable.

In doing so, he says a number of quite interesting things, among them this: “. . . nowadays, whenever people talk about ‘design’ and a ‘designer,’ they automatically think of a ‘divine engineer,’ a kind of omniscient technician. . . . Here, in my view, lies the most profound cause of many misunderstandings - even on the part of the ‘intelligent design’ school in the U.S.A. God is no clockmaker; he is not a constructor of machines, but a Creator of natures.”

Schönborn does not regard “the methodical exclusion of divine involvement” - sometimes called “methodological atheism” - as amounting necessarily to a denial of God’s existence. It is, rather, “a straightforward method of science [which] cannot assume the existence of a ‘clockmaker’ who intervenes. [It] is looking for mechanisms and sets of conditions that can explain the way things happen.”

What the theologian’s perspective contributes most to this debate is that the term God, as theologians understand it, simply cannot be an object of scientific inquiry: God “is not just one cause among others. . . . He does not shape something that already exists. . . . [His] act of creation is not in time. . . .”

I think a lot of atheists make the — pardon me — dumb-ass mistake of assuming that the Universe is, for lack of a better term, a superset, with all things — including any notion of God they are willing to acknowledge — being subsets thereof. Everything has to be either empirically quantifiable or, at least, logically falsifiable according to the normal rules of the Universe and the workings of the human brain for it to exist, or for any discussion of its existence to have “meaning”.

Such an argumentative and analytical framework is unable to contemplate that the Universe itself might not be the superset, so to speak, but rather a large subset of something even bigger. The notion of a God that is external to nature, above creation, is an alien one, and dismissed out of hand anyhow because in such a case one could not hope to demonstrate God empirically or demonstrate that the idea of God can be adequately falsified.

Of course, it is incorrect for them to think that way — one needs not even launch into a convoluted example to demonstrate that. It’s easy to see how if we dismiss from consideration everything that cannot be revealed directly through the natural environment, we would of course fail to notice things external to that, and in fact cannot comment at all on whether or not such things exist.

More importantly, though, whether or not one believes in God is immaterial to one’s ability to conduct good science, and to accept the validity of scientific theory. It’s entirely possible for me, as a Christian, to accept the theory of evolution and the various evidences presented in support of it (and, in fact, I do accept it). It’s entirely possible for me to likewise believe that God is the author of all Creation. Like an artist and his brush, the two beliefs are not incompatible, but are actually compatible and to be expected. God is the artist behind Creation; evolution is the brush with which He painted mankind into being.

(In Soviet Russia, hat tips you: Mark Shea)