I want to do a few blogs on the Trinity. The first one will be about the logic of the Trinity. The second one will be about Biblical arguments for the Trinity. The third one will address common objections to the Trinity. This comes from an outline I did when I taught on the Trinity in Sunday school a few years ago.
First, let me give a definition of the Trinity: There is one being who is God, and that God exists as three distinct persons, namely the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, who are coequal and coeternal. The one uncreated God is a tri-personal being.
I'll admit that the Trinity seems odd, but it is not, as some suppose, self-contradictory. On the surface, to say that God is One and Three at the same time seems contradictory, but we must remember what a contradiction is. Two claims can only contradict each other if they are talking about the same thing at the same time and in the same sense. God is not three in the same sense that God is one. If the Trinity required that God was one being who was three beings, that would be a contradiction. Or if the Trinity required that God was one person who was three persons, that would also be a contradiction. But the Trinity requires that God is one being who is three persons. There is no contradiction, because God is one in a different sense than God is three.
This being/person distinction strikes us as odd for the simple reason that in or ordinary experience, all people and animals are uni-personal beings. "Being" and "person" are nevertheless distinct categories. A being is anything that exists. A person is a particular kind of being that posesses personhood. Here's an analogy to explain this categorical difference:
rock: 1 being, 0 persons.
human: 1 being, 1 person.
God: 1 being, 3 persons.
Since not all beings are persons, "being" and "person" are distinct categories. If it's possible for there to be one being who is not a person, and another being who is one person, there's no difficulty in supposing the possibility of there being another being who is three persons.
To further clarify what exactly the Trinity is, I'll contrast it with three other views. These views go by different names, so I'll mention all that I'm aware of.
Trinitarianism = tri-unitarianism
one nature or being (God) who is three persons (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit)
Modalism = Sabellianism = Jesus Only = Oneness = Patripassionism
One person (Jesus) who manifests himself in three modes or natures (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit)
Arianism = Subordinationism = Unitarianism
One being (God = YHWH) who is one person (the Father). Jesus is a created being.
Tri-theism = polytheism
Three separate and distinct gods.
Arians (especially Jehovah's Witnesses) often confuse Trinitarianism with either tri-theism or modalism. Trinitarians do not believe the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are separate and distinct Gods (tri-theism), but rather they are separate and distinct persons. Neither do Trinitarians believe that the Father and the Son are the same person (modalism), but rather that they are the same being.
The Trinity is arrived at by deductive reasoning. It's based on the logical consistency of various points found in the Bible.
1. There is one and only one God.
2. The Father is God, the Son is God, and the Holy Spirit is God.
From these two points, it follows deductively that:
3. The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are the same God.
But there's another point:
4. The Father is not the Son, the Son is not the Holy Spirit, and the Holy Spirit is not the Father.
From 3 and 4, it follows deductively that the one God is a tri-personal being.
The question now is whether or not these three points are Biblical. If they are, then the Trinity is Biblical.
For the Trinity, part 1
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Monday, February 21, 2005
The east vs. the west
One of the things that has sort of jumped out at me in my comparitive religion class is that one of the big differences between eastern religions (e.g. Buddhism, Taoism, and Hinduism) and western religions (e.g. Judaism, Christianity, and Islam) is that the eastern ones deny the obvious and the western ones affirm the obvious. I'm speaking in generalities here. I realize there are exceptions.
Several eastern religions think our major problem is ignorance. We're all deluded somehow, and we need to reach enlightenment. Englightenment always turns out to be the realization that reality is quite different than it appears. The external world is an illusion, the distinction between self and others is an illusion, time is an illusion, and even logic is an illusion.
The eastern religion mind-set seems self-refuting to me. There are certain things that seem obvious to us. There's a real tangible world out there, we are not all the same person, time is real, and logic is real. If we're all deluded about these things, then our cognative faculties aren't working right. And if our cognative faculties aren't working right, then we're in no position to say whether these things are real or not. If we're in no position to say whether these things are real or not, then we can't say that ordinary experience is delusion and a denial of our ordinary experiences is "englightenment" rather than vice versa.
If we can trust our cognative faculties, then "englightenment" is just another word for "self-delusion." Think about it. Think about the things eastern folks have to go through to help them deny the obvious. Some of them spend all day contemplating the sound of one hand clapping and other such nonsense. Almost all of them meditate in order to escape reality. It's just mental gymnastics. The techniques for meditation often sound a lot like self-hypnosis. The crazy things they do in their strained efforts to escape what seems obvious to all of us is just self-delusion. They're just brainwashing themselves. All they ever succeed in doing is temporarily escaping reality in some altered state of consciousness while meditating. Once they're done, they have to come back and join us all again in the real world.
Several eastern religions think our major problem is ignorance. We're all deluded somehow, and we need to reach enlightenment. Englightenment always turns out to be the realization that reality is quite different than it appears. The external world is an illusion, the distinction between self and others is an illusion, time is an illusion, and even logic is an illusion.
The eastern religion mind-set seems self-refuting to me. There are certain things that seem obvious to us. There's a real tangible world out there, we are not all the same person, time is real, and logic is real. If we're all deluded about these things, then our cognative faculties aren't working right. And if our cognative faculties aren't working right, then we're in no position to say whether these things are real or not. If we're in no position to say whether these things are real or not, then we can't say that ordinary experience is delusion and a denial of our ordinary experiences is "englightenment" rather than vice versa.
If we can trust our cognative faculties, then "englightenment" is just another word for "self-delusion." Think about it. Think about the things eastern folks have to go through to help them deny the obvious. Some of them spend all day contemplating the sound of one hand clapping and other such nonsense. Almost all of them meditate in order to escape reality. It's just mental gymnastics. The techniques for meditation often sound a lot like self-hypnosis. The crazy things they do in their strained efforts to escape what seems obvious to all of us is just self-delusion. They're just brainwashing themselves. All they ever succeed in doing is temporarily escaping reality in some altered state of consciousness while meditating. Once they're done, they have to come back and join us all again in the real world.
Friday, February 18, 2005
What if Genesis were all wrong?
A lot of people who try to refute Christianity go about it the wrong way. They attack things that are easy enough to attack, but even if their arguments are sound, it leaves Christianity basically in tact.
For example, people attack the Bible. It contradicts itself, it has scientific and historical errors, etc. At best, all these things prove is that the Bible is not the infallible word of God. But that, by itself, is not enough to refute Christianity. It could be that the Bible contains all kinds of errors and yet there is still a God, there's still a difference between right and wrong, God holds us accountable for doing wrong, Jesus is the Christ, Christ died for sins, and he was raised from the dead. If all of those things are true, then Christianity is true, even if the Bible is not infallible. And arguments can be made to support all of these essentials of Christianity without ever assuming the Bible is the inspired word of God.
Take Genesis for example. Usually what happens is a critic will point out that Genesis is inconsistent with science when read at face value. It makes it look like people have only inhabited the earth for 6000 years. Since Genesis is all wrong, there was no original sin, so there was no fall, so there's no need for redemption, so all that stuff about Jesus dying for sin to redeem us is false.
The usual response is to defend Genesis, usually by some reinterpretation. But that's unnecessary. Let's not even so much as suppose Genesis is an allegory, not meant to be taken literally. Let's just suppose it's all wrong and throw it out. Does that destroy Christianity? No, because what's necessary for Christianty to be true can be arrived at without the use of Genesis.
First, is there a difference between right and wrong? Unless you either have no conscience or you think your conscience is deceiving you, you have reason to believe there is a difference between right and wrong.
Second, are you perfect? Have you ever felt the need to apologize to somebody? If we're honest with ourselves, we must admit that we've all done wrong. No matter how much right you do, it can never atone for the wrong. Can you imagine running a stop sign and telling the cop who is writing you a ticket, "But I've always obeyed the traffic laws except for this one time"? If you disobey the civil law, there's a penalty, and if you disobey the moral law, there's a penalty for that, too.
Third, how can we have moral obligations if there's no one imposing them on us? If there's no one enforcing the rules, then there are no rules. We're not obligated to obey a blind and indifferent universe. We can only be obligated to obey a person. If there are moral obligations we have regardless of what we or our culture thinks, then there is some person who transcends humanity and imposes these moral obligations on us and holds us accountable. Sounds like some kind of God to me.
Fourth, there haven't always been people, but there are people now, and they sin. Between then and now, there must have been a first sin. So regadless of whether the Genesis account is accurate or not, there was an original sin, and it seems like everybody afterwards has continued to sin.
What I've enumerated so far is the set-up for Christianity. It's the background philosophical assumptions. It's the whole reason we put our faith in Jesus. We believe God loves us and that he takes no pleasure in the punishment of those he loves, but his just nature requires it. Because of his love for us, God wants to solve our problem. How is he going to do it? Christians believe he did it by Jesus' death on the cross. He atoned for our sins so we wouldn't have to pay the penalty for them ourselves. That satisfied both God's justice and his mercy at the same time.
But, a critic might argue, there are lots of other ways God might've done things. There are sacrifices, or God could've just pardoned us without Jesus dying. There are a dozen paths one might take. And Christians will usually argue that Jesus' death was necessary, but I'm not even going to bother with that. There's no need. Let's just grant, for the sake of argument, that there are other ways God might've done things, because that point is irrelevent. What's more important than how God could have done things is how God did in fact do things.
Christians claim that Christ died for sins and that he was raised from the dead. That's how God fixed our problem. But what reason is there to think it's true? Well, even without the authority of the Bible, historical arguments can be made. One can argue that Jesus of Nazareth did claim to be the Christ, he did intend his death to atone for sins, and he did rise from the dead. If the historical arguments are not too far fetched, then Christians are perfectly within their epistemic rights in believing that Jesus is the Christ, he did die for sins, and he did rise from the dead.
I don't want anybody reading this to get the wrong idea. The purpose of this blog is not to argue for the truth of Christianity. If that were my purpose, I would readily admit that my arguments are woefully inadequate. My point is to show that Christianity could be true even if the Bible is not the authoritative word of God, and more specifically if Genesis is all wrong. Attacking the authority of the Bible, then, is a wrong-headed approach to refuting Christianity. There are more direct ways of doing it. In an earlier blog, I mentioned these few things that are necessary aspects of Christianity. Attack those. If any one of those are false, then Christianity is false.
For example, people attack the Bible. It contradicts itself, it has scientific and historical errors, etc. At best, all these things prove is that the Bible is not the infallible word of God. But that, by itself, is not enough to refute Christianity. It could be that the Bible contains all kinds of errors and yet there is still a God, there's still a difference between right and wrong, God holds us accountable for doing wrong, Jesus is the Christ, Christ died for sins, and he was raised from the dead. If all of those things are true, then Christianity is true, even if the Bible is not infallible. And arguments can be made to support all of these essentials of Christianity without ever assuming the Bible is the inspired word of God.
Take Genesis for example. Usually what happens is a critic will point out that Genesis is inconsistent with science when read at face value. It makes it look like people have only inhabited the earth for 6000 years. Since Genesis is all wrong, there was no original sin, so there was no fall, so there's no need for redemption, so all that stuff about Jesus dying for sin to redeem us is false.
The usual response is to defend Genesis, usually by some reinterpretation. But that's unnecessary. Let's not even so much as suppose Genesis is an allegory, not meant to be taken literally. Let's just suppose it's all wrong and throw it out. Does that destroy Christianity? No, because what's necessary for Christianty to be true can be arrived at without the use of Genesis.
First, is there a difference between right and wrong? Unless you either have no conscience or you think your conscience is deceiving you, you have reason to believe there is a difference between right and wrong.
Second, are you perfect? Have you ever felt the need to apologize to somebody? If we're honest with ourselves, we must admit that we've all done wrong. No matter how much right you do, it can never atone for the wrong. Can you imagine running a stop sign and telling the cop who is writing you a ticket, "But I've always obeyed the traffic laws except for this one time"? If you disobey the civil law, there's a penalty, and if you disobey the moral law, there's a penalty for that, too.
Third, how can we have moral obligations if there's no one imposing them on us? If there's no one enforcing the rules, then there are no rules. We're not obligated to obey a blind and indifferent universe. We can only be obligated to obey a person. If there are moral obligations we have regardless of what we or our culture thinks, then there is some person who transcends humanity and imposes these moral obligations on us and holds us accountable. Sounds like some kind of God to me.
Fourth, there haven't always been people, but there are people now, and they sin. Between then and now, there must have been a first sin. So regadless of whether the Genesis account is accurate or not, there was an original sin, and it seems like everybody afterwards has continued to sin.
What I've enumerated so far is the set-up for Christianity. It's the background philosophical assumptions. It's the whole reason we put our faith in Jesus. We believe God loves us and that he takes no pleasure in the punishment of those he loves, but his just nature requires it. Because of his love for us, God wants to solve our problem. How is he going to do it? Christians believe he did it by Jesus' death on the cross. He atoned for our sins so we wouldn't have to pay the penalty for them ourselves. That satisfied both God's justice and his mercy at the same time.
But, a critic might argue, there are lots of other ways God might've done things. There are sacrifices, or God could've just pardoned us without Jesus dying. There are a dozen paths one might take. And Christians will usually argue that Jesus' death was necessary, but I'm not even going to bother with that. There's no need. Let's just grant, for the sake of argument, that there are other ways God might've done things, because that point is irrelevent. What's more important than how God could have done things is how God did in fact do things.
Christians claim that Christ died for sins and that he was raised from the dead. That's how God fixed our problem. But what reason is there to think it's true? Well, even without the authority of the Bible, historical arguments can be made. One can argue that Jesus of Nazareth did claim to be the Christ, he did intend his death to atone for sins, and he did rise from the dead. If the historical arguments are not too far fetched, then Christians are perfectly within their epistemic rights in believing that Jesus is the Christ, he did die for sins, and he did rise from the dead.
I don't want anybody reading this to get the wrong idea. The purpose of this blog is not to argue for the truth of Christianity. If that were my purpose, I would readily admit that my arguments are woefully inadequate. My point is to show that Christianity could be true even if the Bible is not the authoritative word of God, and more specifically if Genesis is all wrong. Attacking the authority of the Bible, then, is a wrong-headed approach to refuting Christianity. There are more direct ways of doing it. In an earlier blog, I mentioned these few things that are necessary aspects of Christianity. Attack those. If any one of those are false, then Christianity is false.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
If we don't survive the death of our bodies, then we have no hope in a resurrection.
Some people say that if we have souls that survive the death of the body, then there's no need to have a resurrection, and if we have a resurrection, there's no need to have a soul that survives the death of the body. It seems to me, though, that unless we have some immaterial aspect of our nature that survives the death of the body, there's no hope for a resurrection at all.
Before God can raise a person from the dead who has completely decomposed, God must have perfect knowledge of that person. His knowledge of that person must serve as the blueprint for bringing the person back. But God's knowledge of us is just as perfect before we die as it is after we die. He could, then, in theory, construct a body identical to ours and even implant all of our memories into the brain so that the new person would not realize he just came into existence. If God made a perfect replica of me--mental states and all--then the replica would think he was me. He wouldn't be me, though, because I'm me, and one person can't be in two different places at the same time. No matter how identical God's new creation is to me, we are still two different individuals.
Suppose God created this replica after I was already dead. He raised a new body with all the mental states and memories of me. This raised person would identify himself with me, thinking he is me. But would he be? No. If he's not me before I die, then he's not me after I die either. Me dying has no causal influence on who the replica is. It's still a replica of me, and not me myself. It doesn't matter when the replica is made; it's still a replica.
It would seem that once I'm dead, if I cease to exist, I can never come back into existence. Any supposed coming back into existence would be no different than creating a replica. Though the replica would not know the difference, it would still only be a replica. If I am to have any hope that I myself will be raised from the dead, I must survive the death of my body. There must be something immaterial about me that maintains existence between death and resurrection, and whatever that immaterial thing is, it constitutes my identity. It is me. Sounds to me like a soul or a spirit or something.
But, a person may argue, suppose God raises the exact same body you died with. Would we need a soul in order to maintain identity between death and resurrection if that were the case? I'll save that for another blog.
If you're interested, I had a discussion on a message board a long time ago with some Jehovah's Witnesses on this subject. In their view, we don't survive the death of our bodies, and we're not raised in the same bodies we die in. That creates some identity problems for them. I argued that if their view is true, then none of us have any hope in a resurrection. Here's a link to that discussion.
Another source you might want to check out is Risen Indeed by Stephen T. Davis. It's highly interesting, although he disagrees with me that a spirit/soul is necessary to maintain continuity of identity between death and resurrection.
Before God can raise a person from the dead who has completely decomposed, God must have perfect knowledge of that person. His knowledge of that person must serve as the blueprint for bringing the person back. But God's knowledge of us is just as perfect before we die as it is after we die. He could, then, in theory, construct a body identical to ours and even implant all of our memories into the brain so that the new person would not realize he just came into existence. If God made a perfect replica of me--mental states and all--then the replica would think he was me. He wouldn't be me, though, because I'm me, and one person can't be in two different places at the same time. No matter how identical God's new creation is to me, we are still two different individuals.
Suppose God created this replica after I was already dead. He raised a new body with all the mental states and memories of me. This raised person would identify himself with me, thinking he is me. But would he be? No. If he's not me before I die, then he's not me after I die either. Me dying has no causal influence on who the replica is. It's still a replica of me, and not me myself. It doesn't matter when the replica is made; it's still a replica.
It would seem that once I'm dead, if I cease to exist, I can never come back into existence. Any supposed coming back into existence would be no different than creating a replica. Though the replica would not know the difference, it would still only be a replica. If I am to have any hope that I myself will be raised from the dead, I must survive the death of my body. There must be something immaterial about me that maintains existence between death and resurrection, and whatever that immaterial thing is, it constitutes my identity. It is me. Sounds to me like a soul or a spirit or something.
But, a person may argue, suppose God raises the exact same body you died with. Would we need a soul in order to maintain identity between death and resurrection if that were the case? I'll save that for another blog.
If you're interested, I had a discussion on a message board a long time ago with some Jehovah's Witnesses on this subject. In their view, we don't survive the death of our bodies, and we're not raised in the same bodies we die in. That creates some identity problems for them. I argued that if their view is true, then none of us have any hope in a resurrection. Here's a link to that discussion.
Another source you might want to check out is Risen Indeed by Stephen T. Davis. It's highly interesting, although he disagrees with me that a spirit/soul is necessary to maintain continuity of identity between death and resurrection.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
How to make hard decisions easy
There are easy choices and there are hard choices. If ever you have to decide between two options, and one option is clearly better than the other, then the choice is easy. You should go with the option that is clearly better.
A hard choice, then, is a choice in which it isn't clear which option is better. The only reason it isn't clear that one option is better than the other is because they both appear to be equally good (or bad). If they are so close to being equal that you can't tell which is better, then for all practical purposes, one option is as good as the other. If one option is as good as the other, then it doesn't matter which one you choose. If it doesn't matter which one you choose, then you might as well flip a coin.
That's it. For easy choices, you should choose the better option. For hard choices, you should flip a coin. Flipping a coin is easy enough, isn't it? This advice should solve all your decision-making problems. :-)
A hard choice, then, is a choice in which it isn't clear which option is better. The only reason it isn't clear that one option is better than the other is because they both appear to be equally good (or bad). If they are so close to being equal that you can't tell which is better, then for all practical purposes, one option is as good as the other. If one option is as good as the other, then it doesn't matter which one you choose. If it doesn't matter which one you choose, then you might as well flip a coin.
That's it. For easy choices, you should choose the better option. For hard choices, you should flip a coin. Flipping a coin is easy enough, isn't it? This advice should solve all your decision-making problems. :-)
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Does God exist in time?
There are lots of interesting discussions out there on this subject, and I'm not about to plunge into the depths of them. I just want to make one observation. I have a difficulty with the idea that God exists outside of time. In this view, the whole spectrum of time is layed out before God as if it were all the present for him. The problem I have with this view is that it's hard to reconcile it with the notion that God created the universe. If God does not exist in time, and if all the events of time are in the present from God's point of view, then from God's point of view, there was never a time in which the universe did not exist. If there's never been a time from God's point of view in which the universe did not exist, then in what sense did he create it? Doesn't creation imply that there was a time in which the universe did not exist followed by a time in which it did exist?
Sunday, February 13, 2005
A thought experiment to refute psychological egoism
There are two kinds of egoism--psychological egoism, and philosophical egoism. Psychological egoism is a descriptive theory, and philosophical egoism is a prescriptive theory. Psychological egoism describes how people act, and philosophical egoism prescribes how people ought to act. With that explanation out of the way, let's move on.
Psychological egoism is the theory that everything we do, every choice we make, every act of the will that is ours, is motivated primarily out of what we take to be in our self-interest. Altruist acts are impossible. Even acts that appear to be altruistic turn out to be self-interested when examined more closely.
Psychological egoism is hard to refute, because once you start throwing out a few counter-examples and see how the psychological egoist goes about proving it to be a self-interested act, you begin to see the pattern, and you realize it's not going to be easy to come up with a counter-example.
A couple of years ago I read a scenario on the internet that was supposed to serve as a counter-example to psychological egoism, and I'm going to share it to the best of my memory. I'd give credit to the person who came up with it, but I don't remember who it was. This scenario is a thought experiment. It's just a hypothetical scenario that allows us to think carefully about this issue.
In this scenario, a man buys a life insurance policy for his family to take care of them when he dies. The life insurance policy costs him $25 every month. An ordinary person would say that in choosing to get the life insurance policy, this man is not acting in self-interest. He gets nothing out of the insurance policy since it doesn't pay until after he's dead. Moreover, he has to pay $25 a month for something he gets no benefit from.
The psychological egoist, however, will argue that he's acting in self interest. This man loves his family and can't bear the thought of them being high and dry if he were to die all of a sudden. He gets the life insurance policy for his own psychological well-being. It gives him a feeling of comfort, knowing that his family will be taken care of. So getting the life insurance policy is an act of self-interest.
Let's concede the point. The man would get psychological comfort if he gets the life insurance policy. But let's say there's a pill he can take that will give him that exact same psychological feeling of comfort, but without having to pay $25 a month for a life insurance policy. Clearly, it would be in his self interest to take the pill instead of getting the policy. Let's look at the two choices and compare their self-interested pros and cons.
Life insurance policy:
Psychological feeling of comfort.
Have to pay $25 a month.
Pill:
Psychological feeling of comfort.
Get to save $25 a month.
Since the life insurance policy doesn't benefit the man at all, the only possible benefit he could get is psychological. But if there's a free pill that can give him the exact same feeling of comfort, then it's clearly in his self-interest to take the pill instead of getting the life insurance policy.
The question is, what choice would any ordinary man make? If given the choice, most people would choose the insurance policy. That proves that psychological egoism is false.
The real motivation for getting a life insurance policy is not the psychological benefit a person would get from it. True, they would have some psychological benefit, but that benefit is the result, not the cause, of their choice. That's one of the problems with the way psychological egoists argue. They confuse results for causes. The real motivation for getting a life insurance policy is the well-being of our families after we're dead. We are motivated by their interest, not our own.
Psychological egoism is the theory that everything we do, every choice we make, every act of the will that is ours, is motivated primarily out of what we take to be in our self-interest. Altruist acts are impossible. Even acts that appear to be altruistic turn out to be self-interested when examined more closely.
Psychological egoism is hard to refute, because once you start throwing out a few counter-examples and see how the psychological egoist goes about proving it to be a self-interested act, you begin to see the pattern, and you realize it's not going to be easy to come up with a counter-example.
A couple of years ago I read a scenario on the internet that was supposed to serve as a counter-example to psychological egoism, and I'm going to share it to the best of my memory. I'd give credit to the person who came up with it, but I don't remember who it was. This scenario is a thought experiment. It's just a hypothetical scenario that allows us to think carefully about this issue.
In this scenario, a man buys a life insurance policy for his family to take care of them when he dies. The life insurance policy costs him $25 every month. An ordinary person would say that in choosing to get the life insurance policy, this man is not acting in self-interest. He gets nothing out of the insurance policy since it doesn't pay until after he's dead. Moreover, he has to pay $25 a month for something he gets no benefit from.
The psychological egoist, however, will argue that he's acting in self interest. This man loves his family and can't bear the thought of them being high and dry if he were to die all of a sudden. He gets the life insurance policy for his own psychological well-being. It gives him a feeling of comfort, knowing that his family will be taken care of. So getting the life insurance policy is an act of self-interest.
Let's concede the point. The man would get psychological comfort if he gets the life insurance policy. But let's say there's a pill he can take that will give him that exact same psychological feeling of comfort, but without having to pay $25 a month for a life insurance policy. Clearly, it would be in his self interest to take the pill instead of getting the policy. Let's look at the two choices and compare their self-interested pros and cons.
Life insurance policy:
Psychological feeling of comfort.
Have to pay $25 a month.
Pill:
Psychological feeling of comfort.
Get to save $25 a month.
Since the life insurance policy doesn't benefit the man at all, the only possible benefit he could get is psychological. But if there's a free pill that can give him the exact same feeling of comfort, then it's clearly in his self-interest to take the pill instead of getting the life insurance policy.
The question is, what choice would any ordinary man make? If given the choice, most people would choose the insurance policy. That proves that psychological egoism is false.
The real motivation for getting a life insurance policy is not the psychological benefit a person would get from it. True, they would have some psychological benefit, but that benefit is the result, not the cause, of their choice. That's one of the problems with the way psychological egoists argue. They confuse results for causes. The real motivation for getting a life insurance policy is the well-being of our families after we're dead. We are motivated by their interest, not our own.
Friday, February 11, 2005
More on the "name one" fallacy
Last night after writing about the "name one" fallacy, I got to thinking about it some more. I guess telling somebody to "name one" isn't necessarily a fallacy. It depends on the situation. If you're using "name one" as an argument, then it's a fallacy. But if you're just using "name one" as a request for evidence, then it's not a fallacy.
Suppose I say there are people in Paraguay. If somebody says, "Name one," it could be they're just asking for evidence. If I can name somebody who is in Paraguay, that would prove that there are people in Paraguay. Failure to name one, of course, does not prove that there are no people in Paraguay. As they say, "Absense of evidence is not evidence of absense." That's why "name one" is a fallacy when used as an argument against the other person's view.
But a person might concede that your failure to "name one" doesn't mean your position is false. Instead, they might say your failure to "name one" amounts to a failure to prove that your position is true. If you want to prove your position is true, naming one might be one way to do it, but it's not necessarily the only way to do it.
It's possible to prove there are people in Paraguay without naming anybody. I could just whip out an atlas and show the person some population statistics, and that should be enough to prove there are people in Paraguay unless the person wants to be a snit and demand that I prove the accuracy of the atlas, which they don't really doubt but would rather pretend to doubt rather than admit that I'm right. That was a run-on sentence wasn't it? That's okay, though, because this is a blog, and I can do that if I want to. I love blogging!
But, you see, in the case of the egoist I mentioned in the previous blog, I wasn't out to prove anything. It was he who came to me in order to prove something. So the burden of proof was on him. My failure to "name one" did not prove his case. His was an example of the "name one" fallacy. Whether you demand somebody to "name one" in order to prove your point or disprove their point, it's a fallacy, because it only addresses the other person's state of knowledge, not the issue under consideration.
Now, of course, if the issue under consideration is the other person's state of knowledge, then I guess it's not a fallacy. If I say, "I know the names of five people who think I'm a good singer," and somebody says, "Name one," and I can't do it, then that proves that I don't know the names of those five people.
Suppose I say there are people in Paraguay. If somebody says, "Name one," it could be they're just asking for evidence. If I can name somebody who is in Paraguay, that would prove that there are people in Paraguay. Failure to name one, of course, does not prove that there are no people in Paraguay. As they say, "Absense of evidence is not evidence of absense." That's why "name one" is a fallacy when used as an argument against the other person's view.
But a person might concede that your failure to "name one" doesn't mean your position is false. Instead, they might say your failure to "name one" amounts to a failure to prove that your position is true. If you want to prove your position is true, naming one might be one way to do it, but it's not necessarily the only way to do it.
It's possible to prove there are people in Paraguay without naming anybody. I could just whip out an atlas and show the person some population statistics, and that should be enough to prove there are people in Paraguay unless the person wants to be a snit and demand that I prove the accuracy of the atlas, which they don't really doubt but would rather pretend to doubt rather than admit that I'm right. That was a run-on sentence wasn't it? That's okay, though, because this is a blog, and I can do that if I want to. I love blogging!
But, you see, in the case of the egoist I mentioned in the previous blog, I wasn't out to prove anything. It was he who came to me in order to prove something. So the burden of proof was on him. My failure to "name one" did not prove his case. His was an example of the "name one" fallacy. Whether you demand somebody to "name one" in order to prove your point or disprove their point, it's a fallacy, because it only addresses the other person's state of knowledge, not the issue under consideration.
Now, of course, if the issue under consideration is the other person's state of knowledge, then I guess it's not a fallacy. If I say, "I know the names of five people who think I'm a good singer," and somebody says, "Name one," and I can't do it, then that proves that I don't know the names of those five people.
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