Evidence And Faith

The evidence for God is in the universe around us,
In the oceans, in the mountains, in the skies;
You can see His holy fingerprints in galaxies and atoms;
You need only learn to open up your eyes.
The evidence for God is seen in everything in nature—
This has always been accepted by the wise;
But the evidence that shows there was no Adam, and no Eden,
Only tells us all that, now and then, God lies.

Via NPR, a story today, Evangelicals Question The Existence Of Adam And Eve, reminds us that evangelical christians (let alone all christians) are not a monolithic group. Not all evangelicals, for instance, believe the story of Adam and Eve.

[S]ome conservative scholars are saying publicly that they can no longer believe the Genesis account. Asked how likely it is that we all descended from Adam and Eve, Dennis Venema, a biologist at Trinity Western University, replies: “That would be against all the genomic evidence that we’ve assembled over the last 20 years, so not likely at all.”

Not exactly a radical position to take for those of us who don’t hold the bible as bedrock, but Venema’s position runs counter to central tenets of his church.

And Venema is part of a growing cadre of Christian scholars who say they want their faith to come into the 21st century. Another one is John Schneider, who taught theology at Calvin College in Michigan until recently. He says it’s time to face facts: There was no historical Adam and Eve, no serpent, no apple, no fall that toppled man from a state of innocence.

Now, it’s one thing to question some parts of the bible. But (as the NPR story makes clear) this particular part is the cornerstone of christianity itself. No original sin, no need for redemption, no reason for Jesus. This is a case where many christian sects make a very particular claim, one which if taken literally (which they do) is falsified by research in genetics.

I’ve known christians who believe that “god wrote two books–the bible and the universe”, and that we can reconcile the two by recognizing myth, story, and parable. But literalism does not have this wiggle room. One or the other “book” must be wrong.

It was easier to be a literalist before evolutionary genetics came along.

Good News, Bad News

The flip of a coin
Tells which group you will join;
There is no more investment than that.
It’s a “minimal group”
But you’re one of the troop
And you’ve taken up arms in the spat.

If the star-bellied sneetches
Are best on the beaches
Then what would the plain-bellies say?
The most trivial stuff
Can be more than enough
To let intergroup biases sway

And as quick as you know
You’ve turned friend into foe
For as near as no reason at all
Just the flip of a dime
And a moment of time
And you’re ready and willing to brawl

If you think that a fight
Over which side is right
Means that something important’s at stake
Just remember, it’s known
We will fight for our own…
And a coin flip is all it might take

The bad news is, skeptics are fighting among themselves. The good news is, skeptics are fighting among themselves.

“Minimal Group” experiments (Tajfel and colleagues, in the early 70s) showed that something as simple as the flip of a coin was enough to engender ingroup/outgroup bias effects. The Hatfields and McCoys had generations of feuding to generate ingroup/outgroup bias; Tajfel found that biases did not need much at all to get started.

Now, I’m not saying there are not very real and meaningful differences. I’m just saying that the fact that people are sharpening pitchforks and lighting torches does not mean that the differences they fight over are worth fighting over. People choose up sides at the drop of a hat. Oh, and once they do, and do so publicly, we start hearing less about Tajfel and more about Festinger. We are motivated to maintain and defend our publicly stated opinions… even if, yeah, the original differences in opinion were trivial.

Let’s throw one more classic name in social cognitive psychology at you–Muzafer Sherif. Sherif is the name thrown about when we try to join groups together, instead of dissecting them apart. His solution? Superordinate goals–common goals that redefine two separate groups as part of one larger group. For example, Reagan (more than once) claimed that our differences with the Russians would disappear if earth were invaded by Martians.

Too bad it seems that it takes the presence of a common enemy to bring peace. But one hopeful possibility is that the skeptics are fighting among themselves because the common goal is closer to resolution than in the past. Without the clear and present danger, we have the luxury of fighting among ourselves.

Still and all, I’d really rather we didn’t.

One Of My Quirks

The site is running a bit more smoothly, so I can trust the window to stay open long enough for me to type a bit. Anyway, since I am still in the process of introducing myself to a good many of you (and very much enjoying seeing the old names at the new digs!), I thought I’d confess something.

Sometimes, I cheat. I let other writers do the heavy lifting. One of my favorites is W. S. Gilbert (of Gilbert & Sullivan fame). Once he’s taken care of metrical and rhyme schemes, the rest is easy. For instance, this one. You’ll note I am making a clever segue from XKCD themed verses to Gilbert-inspired verses…

There’s a marvel in the makeup of a mold
There is splendor in a cytoplasmic slime
And when scientists first noticed
This peculiar-looking protist
They agreed it was aesthetically sublime

Such a cheerful little fellow
In a brilliant shade of yellow
Yes I think it is aesthetically sublime!

There’s a multitude that live within a drop
They’re invisible until you use your lens
You can magnify the features
Of a myriad of creatures
Say hello to all your microscopic friends

If you grind it with precision
Then a lens can give you vision
So you notice all your microscopic friends!

If you agree
Sing derry down derry
It’s beautiful, very
And so much fun
Just look and see
Them verily vary
No magical fairy
To get things done

There is wonder in a parasitic wasp
In the horror she inflicts upon her foe
If a host should be infested,
From the inside she’s digested
In a process that’s as gruesome as it’s slow

What a wonder, but unnerving
I can think of none deserving
Such a process that’s as gruesome as it’s slow

There is beauty in a toxoplasmic spore
When it alters the behavior of a rat
With a tendency to pull it
Till it’s marching down the gullet
And residing in the stomach of a cat

Toxoplasma likes it best in-
Side a kitty-cat’s intestine
Which you get to through the stomach of a cat

If you agree
Sing derry down derry
It’s beautiful, very
And so much fun
Just look and see
Them verily vary
No magical fairy
To get things done

Inspired by The Mikado, of course, and by XKCD comic 877, “Beauty“.

Untested Belief

I’ve been fooled by illusions
And, in my confusion,
Seen things that are simply not there.
My memory distorted,
I’ve sometimes reported
False “facts”, as I now am aware

When the truth is revealed
Of how far I’m afield
I am shocked to discover my error
But the evidence shows
So that everyone knows
And I’ll reach a conclusion that’s fairer

If I’m liable to make
Such a blatant mistake
When there’s evidence there for pursuing
I could never deny
There’s a likelihood, I
Have some other beliefs worth reviewing

My point, to be brief—
Unexamined belief,
No matter how firmly invested
Could be right, could be wrong
But remains, all along
Nothing more, and no less, than untested.

So, yeah, I watched the Discovery show “Curiosity” last night, and the brief discussion following the show, and I wanted to throw a shoe through the television. Fortunately, cuttlefish don’t wear shoes, so the tv was spared. Sean M. Carroll did a great job (even though he says his great concluding remarks were left on the cutting room floor), and I applaud him. As always, though, I really wish there had been another scientist there, representing experimental psychology.

As is often the case, the god that the theologians believed in was “transcendent” and untestable. Carroll, quite correctly, kept trying to get at whether this god ever intervened–ever mucked around with the observable universe–but they did not fall for it (although one claimed that the universe simply would not exist without god). And without a claim of effect, physics has nothing about god to test.

But. I’d like to have seen someone there able to explore not the physics of the universe, but the psychology of belief (and no, not Shermer). The theologians (and some clips of physicists) obviously held their beliefs in god strongly; what do they know of how we come to believe? (I am using “belief” very broadly here, including evidence-based and faith-based beliefs)

We believe things, as physicists often do, because the data point to them. But humans are not perfect perceivers; we sometimes believe things that the evidence actually opposes, because we misperceive the evidence (N-rays are a fun example). If, when there is actual evidence to be had, we still sometimes get it wrong, why on earth should we be more accurate in the absence of evidence? The foundation for the theologians’ belief is the flimsiest house of cards imaginable, yet they pretend an authority and “invite Hawking to the table”. Sorry, no, that’s the kiddie table.

I Got Yer “Edgy Re-Telling” Right Here

PZ tells us of the plan for a new, “edgy re-telling” of the Noachian flood. It’s as good an excuse as any to repost the edgy re-imagining of a day at the Creationist Theme Park.

Our day at the park
Having fun on the ark
Will begin as we stroll up the ramp
With the mammals and dino’s
And strange hellifino’s
And all of it, gaudy and camp

There are creatures in twos
Like the grandest of zoos
Some in cages for people to see
Some are plastic, of course,
Like the odd “Jesus horse”
You can ride on (just children!) for free

With the tour guide explaining
It soon will start raining—
It’s best that we get through the doors
And with thunder and lightning
More piped-in than frightening
The skies open up, and it pours

It isn’t surprising
The water starts rising
With rivers obscuring the ground
We’re on board! We’re the winners!
We laugh at the sinners
Outside, who are there to be drowned.

Some electrical junction
Is bound to malfunction;
The waters continue to rise—
Now it’s panic and screaming
(Please tell me we’re dreaming!)
On board, we can hear all the cries

Now the water is rushing,
The pipes are still gushing,
We realize, we’re really afloat!
Like the Genesis story
We share in the glory
And ride in the biblical boat

Though it’s ill-built and creaky,
Substantially leaky,
We ought to be fine for a while
And although we’re all stuck
We rejoice in our luck
And we look at each other and smile.

Soon the still-rising tides
Means the screaming subsides
From the folks who did not get on board
And we know that God willed
That these people be killed
So we all praise the works of Our Lord

As the day turns to night
With no rescue in sight
Our exhaustion will drive us to sleep
Though the children are wary
Cos darkness is scary
And the lions are eating the sheep

So we all sleep in shifts
As our giant bed drifts
And there’s still not a star in the sky
Soon the sun will arrive
And we’re mostly alive
And if not, then God wants us to die.

At the whim of the weather
We huddle together
As carnivores roam through the decks
And we learned within hours
The stench overpowers—
Of feces, of death, and of sex

When the rain finally ceases
We pick up the pieces
And head to the top deck, for sun,
Where the clean-smelling breezes
Sweep by (thank you Jesus!)
And we kneel down and pray, every one!

As we float, we survey
The remains of the day
From our vantage above, on the ark
Where our neighbors and friends
Met their untimely ends
With the visitors there at the park

And we bow heads, and praise
God’s mysterious ways—
Our friends’ bodies have now begun bloating
And as plump as you please
They rise up through the seas
All disfigured and blue, they are floating

All the husbands and wives,
Little children whose lives
Were destroyed by their callous Creator
While we’re safe on the ark
Cos we chose to embark
A bit sooner, and not a bit later

There was water to drink
But it’s starting to stink
And starvation’s its own form of hell
But the hunger and thirst
Isn’t even the worst—
More than that, is the horrible smell

The miasma which flows
Though you cover your nose
Overwhelms you, and just never ends
And the worst of it all
This olfactory pall
Is the smell of our neighbors and friends

We float day after day
As around us, decay
And disease take a toll on our minds;
And our bodies grow weak
As around us, unspeak-
able horrors are all that one finds

In the decks down below
Where we never dare go
There is carnage like never before;
Most the mammals are gone
But the beetles live on
As they feast on the filth and the gore

There are maggots and flies
Which is no great surprise
In the dung and the foul, rancid meat
But up top, it is grim
Cos the pickings are slim
And there’s nothing for humans to eat

If we haven’t quite died
When the waters subside
We’ll praise God, and we won’t think to sue
Sure, it’s horribly cruel
But we learned, at home school
That what’s right is what Yahweh would do

Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made On

Last night I dreamed in perfect verse—
A pretty nice trick, it would seem—
I’d post it today, but damn the luck,
I always forget what I dream.

Yeah, last night I actually did go to sleep mulling a verse around, and I know (as much as one can know these things) that I figured out several stanzas, moving bits around, finding rhymes, fixing meters. This morning, post-coffee, I have absolutely no idea what I wrote last night.

Part of the problem is that I read some really interesting stuff while having my coffee. Over at ICBSEverywhere, Barbara Drescher had done what she so often does, and brought deliberation, critical thought, and evidence to bear on the skepticism/atheism kerfuffle. I don’t agree with 100% of what she says, but in real life I’ve given talks that are better than 80% in agreement with the stuff she has posted this morning (that’s right, I have a real life). There are three posts; I’ve linked to the first one. Worth reading, and worth sharing.

Even if it cost me a dream verse.

Bishops, And Pawns

Via Kevin Zelnio on twitter, the story of a former bishop with a problem. His laptop contains child pornography, including images of torture.

When I read the headline, my first thought was “Again?” Didn’t I already write about a bishop? Well, yeah. Twice.

First, an arch-bishop of New York, covering up the abuses of priests:

I am the Bishop, the moral authority,
The good of my flock is my highest priority
Unless (or until) there’s a Shepherd accused,
And a lamb from my flock is among the abused.

I am the Bishop; to me they will come,
Both Shepherd and Sheep (because people are dumb)
I’m trusted to do what is just, what is right,
To head off a scandal, and keep things from sight.

I am the Bishop; the power is mine,
The law is of earth, but the issue’s divine
It’s morally righteous to hide the report,
And to fight and appeal when they take us to court.

I am the Bishop. The transcripts disclosed
I created a smokescreen when duly deposed;
I watched for my shepherds, and helped them escape
From those cruel allegations of beatings and rape.

I am the Bishop—Archbishop, New York;
I won’t admit shame, like in Dublin or Cork,
Here, cases are fewer, convictions are less—
It’s to me, not the cops, to whom Shepherds confess!

I am the Bishop, so I can forgive—
They’ll surely be punished, but not while they live.
The civil authorities think it’s a scam
But I am the Bishop; I don’t give a damn

I am the Bishop; I’ll sink straight to Hell,
With most of my Shepherds beside me, as well,
Where Satan’s the judge; no one grants an appeal…
But I am the Bishop. I know it’s not real.

Then, a bit later, in Philadelphia, a story of the review process intended to hide prevent abuse:

I am the Bishop, the first in the line
When reviewing a case, the decision is mine;
If I choose, I will forward the case to the board—
Most often, I don’t do a thing (thank the Lord!)

I am the Bishop; the Board of Review
Are my people, who do what I tell them to do
In each of the cases my Board made a call
They decided the case had no substance at all

I am the Bishop, the man you can trust—
Well, can is inaccurate; really, you must
Just ask me your questions; I give you my word
To give every detail that I want to be heard

I am the Bishop; I see in the news
They are calling for new, independent reviews!
It’s simply outrageous, to treat us this way
And put private Church business on public display

I am the Bishop; I know what we did—
How much is now public; how much is still hid
There’s a chance you’ve been actively kept unaware—
But I am the Bishop. I really don’t care.

How many rogue individuals does it take, before it’s a systematic problem?