Alvin Plantinga

Evil and God: Analytic Counters to the Problem of Evil

The problem of evil is one of the most commonly pushed objections to the existence of God.There have been, historically, two major ways this problem is presented. The first way is to suggest that evil and God are logically incompatible. The second way argues that evil reduces the probability of God’s existence.

The suggestion that evil and God are logically incompatible has been largely abandoned in recent scholarship due to the writings of theistic philosophers such as Alvin Plantinga. Atheistic philosophers who had pressed such a problem have largely abandoned such argumentation in favor of the second method–the probabilistic problem of evil (see Rowe, Draper, Mackie, etc. to see atheistic turnabout on this subject). It is widely acknowledged that there is no logical incompatibility (in the sense that it is a logical contradiction) for there to exist an omni-benevolent God and evil (Plantinga, 461).

Thus, the argument has turned to probabilistic arguments against the existence of God. These arguments often are something like, “Given the great amount of evil in the world, it seems unlikely that God [here meaning the God of Classical Theism] exists.” Given some amount of evil, E, it seems as though the probability that God exists is lower than .5 (50%). There are many problems with such arguments. I have argued this elsewhere (see here) , but there are further arguments I’d like to expand upon.

First, one major problem with such arguments is to figure out some way to measure evil (hereafter E). How do we objectively measure the amount of E in the world? But then this leads us to a second problem: if we can measure the amount of E in the world, what amount of E is such that the existence of God (call it “T” for theism) is unlikely? Where is the mark at which T is more likely than not, given E?

But apart from even these problems, there is the fact that some rather simple explanations or defenses can be used by theists. For example, the theist could assert that as long as there is any amount of good in the world, T is more likely than not. This doesn’t seem quite fair, so the theist could rather assert that given any E, there is the possibility that God utilizes E for good. But this may be unconvincing as well. There are still other “outs” for the theist.

Perhaps the most interesting and insightful defenses from this kind of problem of evil was made by Alvin Plantinga in the essential work, Warranted Christian Belief. He argues, utilizing a “multiverse” type of scenario:

“…a theist might agree that it is unlikely, given just what we know about our world that there is such a person as God. But perhaps God has created countless worlds, in fact, all the worlds… in which there is a substantial overall balance of good over evil. In some worlds there is no suffering and evil; in some a great deal; as it happens, we find ourselves in one of the worlds where there is a good deal. But the probability of theism, given the whole ensemble of worlds, isn’t particularly low” (Plantinga, 473).

This defense is almost joyfully simple, yet it reveals a looming problem for the anti-theist wielding the problem of evil. There are indeed countless scenarios just like this, or at least similar to it, in which theism has a “way out.” Plantinga mentions these throughout the same work (see pages 458-499).

There are other ways to defend against such arguments, however. The assertion is that the existence of some amount of E lowers T, given E. But of course the theist can easily grant this and simply argue that on the basis of their own background knowledge (hereafter “k”), the probability of T given E and k is quite high. Plantinga argues for the internal witness of the Holy Spirit, an assertion with which I stand in agreement (Plantinga, 290 and following). But we need not even appeal to a notion that will be as highly disputed as this.

For perhaps the theist has the belief that the cosmological argument seems plausible, or the ontological argument is quite convincing (as here), or perhaps they believe that the other alternatives (the other theistic religions, pantheism, naturalism, paganism, spiritualism, etc.) are even less likely than T. But then the theist has a high probability of T given k, even if the theist acknowledges that T’s probability given E is lower than before.

It then follows that the theist is justified in maintaining such theistic belief even in light of the problem of evil, for on k and E, they still believe there is a high probability that T is true.

Source:

Plantinga, Alvin. Warranted Christian Belief. Oxford. 2000.

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The preceding post is the property of J.W. Wartick (apart from citations, which are the property of their respective owners) and should not be reproduced in part or in whole without the expressed consent of the author.

Naturalism: Self-Defeating, Unintelligible, and Ungrounded (Among Other Problems)

Naturalism is self-defeating.

Naturalism’s “Grand Story” (I’m unsure of who exactly coined this phrase) includes evolution as the means by which humanity arrived on earth. I’m not here to debate that. Rather, I think that Alvin Plantinga’s “Evolutionary Argument Against Naturalism” has some fairly hefty weight (see Warrant The Current Debate and Warranted Christian Belief for this argument). The argument basically goes like this:

1) On naturalism, evolution selected for our cognitive system

2) On evolution, it is what is beneficial for survival that is selected (with some exceptions–some animals are just unlucky)

3) Therefore, our cognitive system was selected for survival

4) What is beneficial for survival is not necessarily what is true (in an objective sense)

5) Therefore, we can’t know (on naturalism) that our cognitive system is truth-seeking

6) If we can’t trust our cognitive system, but we come to the conclusion that naturalism is true, then we can’t trust this conclusion

7) Therefore, naturalism is self-defeating

Now take 4). It seems to be clearly true that evolution does not select for true belief, if it selects for beliefs at all. Take an example I stole from Plantinga earlier (here)

“Tim the Tiger lover and Suzy the Warrior.

“Tim the Tiger Lover has formed false beliefs that a) wild tigers are warm and cuddly and b) the best way to pet them is to sneak away from them silently. Suzy the Warrior has formed the beliefs that a) wild tigers are ferocious critters and b) they must be killed to insure the survival of mankind.

“Tim and Suzy are walking through the jungle one day, when they spot in the distance a tiger. Now, Tim immediately begins joyfully sneaking away, believing that he will soon be petting that warm, cuddly tiger. Suzy dashes forward to attempt to strangle the beast with her bare hands. Suzy dies, though it seems clear that her beliefs were at least partially true (wild tigers are indeed ferocious). Tim, however, succeeds in escaping and surviving, despite this not actually being his goal.

“Now, on naturalism, it seems quite obvious that Tim has succeeded. He has survived, and will thus pass his genes on to the next generation. Indeed, it seems quite likely he will pass along his false beliefs as well. For let us modify the scenario only slightly and say that it was quite dark. While Suzy was being torn to bits by the tiger, Tim happened upon a tiger cub or some other beast he took to be a tiger cub. He immediately, happily danced with it and cuddled it for a while before sneaking away to go home, having quite happily reinforced his false beliefs. So Tim, with his false beliefs enforced by some data that they are in fact true (after all, he sneaked away quietly from the tiger and managed to pet tigers), also manages to survive, and therefore pass along his genes and his false beliefs” (Wartick).

To put it another way:

Take N to be metaphysical naturalism, P to be probability, R is the proposition that our cognitive facilities are reliable, and E is the proposition that our cognitive facilities have developed directly by way of the mechanisms to which contemporary evolutionary theory directs our attention.

Now P(R/N&E) seems to be low (see above). “One who accepts N… has a defeater for R. This induces a defeater, for him, for any belief produced by his cognitive facilities, including N itself; hence, ordinary naturalism is self-defeating” (Plantinga, 231).

Thus, it seems unlikely to me that naturalism can even find grounds for warranted belief on its own basis for warrant. But that’s not where the problems end. Naturalism has a major problem with consciousness.

Naturalism cannot explain consciousness.

I quote my fellow blogger, Chris Reese and outline what physicalist philosophers are saying about consciousness:

[P]hilosopher of mind . . . Ned Block . . . confesses that we have
no idea how consciousness could have emerged from nonconscious matter: “we have nothing—zilch—worthy of being called a research programme…. Researchers are stumped.”6

Berkeley’s John Searle says this is a “leading problem in the biological sciences.”7

Jaegwon Kim notes our “inability” to understand consciousness in an “essentially physical” world.8

Colin McGinn observes that consciousness seems like “a radical novelty in the universe”; 9  he wonders how our “technicolour” awareness could “arise from soggy grey matter.”10

David Papineau wonders why consciousness emerges: “to this question physicalists’ ‘theories of consciousness’ seem to provide no answer.”11

If, however, we have been made by a supremely self-aware Being, then the existence of consciousness has a plausible context.

Physicalism goes so far as to deny consciousness. I take it as self-evident that I do have consciousness. It seems entirely unintelligible to me to deny this. But then naturalists cannot even explain it. They are unable to understand it in a “physical” world. Perhaps the answer is that there is more to the world than the physical. But due to the presuppositions of the naturalist, they cannot accept this possibility.

Naturalism denies freedom of the will.

Freedom of the will is another problem for the naturalist. If all we are is, ultimately, matter in motion, then how is that we have freedom of the will? Since the big bang, matter has simply been bumping against each other in a way that was determined by the big bang. Every path is planned out by the laws of nature.

Thus, naturalism denies freedom of the will, it denies consciousness, and it refutes itself. These are but a few problems I raise against naturalism (see my other posts on the topic here and here). I thus deny naturalism its right for philosophical dominance of my (free) mind.

Sources:

Plantinga, Alvin. Warranted Christian Belief. Oxford. 2000.

Wartick, J.W. “Naturalism and Groundless Truth.” https://jwwartick.com/2010/01/02/naturalism-and-groundless-truth/

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The preceding post is the property of J.W. Wartick (apart from citations, which are the property of their respective owners) and should not be reproduced in part or in whole without the expressed consent of the author.

The Ontological Argument: Therefore God Exists

The Ontological Argument is probably the most widely misunderstood and maligned of all the theistic arguments. Counters to it often entail little more than mud-slinging, calling such an argument “wordplay” or “trickery,” but few get to the meat of the argument. Often counter-arguments include attempts to parody the argument (as here) or a dismissive strategy. But does anyone truly confront the argument? Rarely. Here I’ll present two forms of the ontological argument, and discuss them in some detail.

The first version of the argument that I will present is Alvin Plantinga’s “Victorious Modal” version of the argument. I actually don’t think this is the strongest version of the ontological argument, but it is one step towards the strongest version. First, the argument:

“1) The property of being maximally great is exemplified in some possible world

2) The property of being maximally great is equivalent, by definition, to the property of being maximally excellent in every possible world

3) The property of being maximally excellent entails the properties of [at least] omniscience, omnipotence, and moral perfection

4) A universal property is one that is exemplified in every possible world or none

5) Any property that is equivalent to some property that holds in every possible world is a universal property

Therefore,

6) There exists a being that is essentially omniscient, omnipotent, and morally perfect (God) (Maydole, 573)”

Now let’s analyze this argument. The long story short is that this argument is logically valid. The conclusions follow from the premises. This can be shown with deductive symbolic logic (Maydole, 590). Thus, one cannot argue against it as being invalid, rather, the argument must be attacked for soundness.

Let’s sum it up in easier-to-understand language, shall we? The first premise simply claims that in some possible world (out of infinite or nearly infinite), the property of “maximal greatness” is exemplified, that is, some body has this property. Premise 2) argues that this property is equivalent to maximal excellence, which is explained in 3) as (basically) the attributes generally believed to be possessed by God in classical theism. Premise 4) states the obviously true statement that if a property is universal it is in either every possible world or none. This is a simple tautology, it is true by definition. One could just as easily say a property that exists in every possible world or none is universal. X = X, this is true. Then, Plantinga argues 5) that maximal greatness is a universal property. This is key to understanding the argument. Basically, in his book God, Freedom, and Evil (and elsewhere), Plantinga makes the point that if a being is maximally great, then that simply entails being maximally great in all possible worlds. For a being that is maximally great in, say 200 worlds is not  greater than one that exists in 2,000, but then this continues up the ladder until you have a being that is maximally great in all possible worlds, which then excludes the possibility of other beings with that property (for they would then, necessarily, not be the maximally great being). Finally, premise 6) follows from the previous premises (for if the maximally great/excellent being exists in all possible worlds, it exists in our own).

The question for this argument is then whether it is true. The premise on which this argument hinges is 1) “The property of being maximally great is exemplified in some possible world”. This seems to be perfectly clear. Denial of this premise means that one would have to argue that it is logically impossible for maximal greatness to be exemplified in any possible world at all, not just our own. This means someone must have infinite knowledge of all possible worlds. Therefore, it seems as though this argument is almost airtight. But suppose someone insists that one can deny premise 1), well then the whole argument falls apart. I must admit I don’t see how anyone could logically do so, but I don’t doubt that people will do so. So if someone wants to deny premise 1), and then–in my opinion–become rather dishonest intellectually, they can deny the soundness of the argument.

I don’t think that there is a way around this argument, but it is actually possible to make the Ontological Argument even stronger.

The most powerful version of the ontological argument, in my opinion, is presented in the book God and Necessity by Stephen E. Parrish (previously discussed here).

The argument goes as follows:

1) The concept of the GPB is coherent (and thus broadly logically possible)

2) Necessarily, a being who is the GPB is necessarily existent, and would have (at least) omnipotence, omniscience, and moral perfection essentially.

3) If the concept of the GPB is coherent, then it exists in all possible worlds.

4) But if it exists in all possible worlds, then it exists in the actual world.

5) The GPB exists (Parrish, 82)

This argument is also deductively valid. Premise 1) argues that the Greatest Possible Being is coherent–that is, there is no logical contradiction within such a being. 2) further defines what a GPB would be (Plantinga’s argument outlines this thoroughly). Premise 3) states the major part of the argument in a different way. Rather than arguing that it is possible that “maximal greatness” is exemplified in some possible world, Parrish argues that the concept of the GPB entails logical necessity along with such maximal greatness, and thus 3) follows from the previous premises, just as Plantinga’s version of the argument does. The key is to remember that in Parrish’s version of the argument, the coherence of the GPB is what is important, not the possibility (for if it is coherent, it is possible). 4) This is tautologically true. 5) follows from the previous premises.

What Parrish does here is actually takes out the possibility of denying premise 1) in Plantinga’s argument. Let’s look into this closely. Parrish argues that the concept of the Greatest Possible Being is coherent. Why is this so important? Well, because if we grant for a moment that the GPB exists, such a being could not fail to exist due to some kind of chance mistake or having some other being or thing prevent the GPB’s existence (Parrish, 105). The first point (that chance could not prevent the GPB’s existence) is true because the GPB would be logically necessary (it would either exist or not exist in all possible worlds). This claim is reinforced by the idea of maximal greatness being a universal property (above). The second point (nothing else could prevent the GPB’s existence) seems quite obvious. If there were a being or body or thing, etc. that could prevent the GPB’s existence, the GPB would clearly not be the Greatest Possible Being. If some other being were powerful enough to prevent the GPB’s existence, then that being would be greater.

So the only thing that could prevent  the GPB from existing is self-contradiction within the concept.

Why is this? Well, after a little investigation it seems pretty clear. If the GPB is a coherent (and logically possible) concept, then such a being does exist. Let us say that the GPB is coherent. Let us then take some world, W, and see whether the GPB can fail to exist.

The  concept of the GPB includes logical necessity in all possible worlds. The GPB has all the properties of maximal greatness. This means that these properties are universals. We can simply refer back to the argument above. If the GPB exists and has omnipotence, omniscience, etc. then it must exist universally, because, again, if some being is the GPB in only 200/1,000,000,000 possible worlds, the being that is GPB in 2,000 is greater. But this seems ridiculous, for the truly Greatest Possible Being must exist in all of them, for if there was a possibility for some being to exist in all the worlds that the GPB exists in +1 and exemplify the maximally great attributes, then that being would be the GPB (and the previous one would not really have omniscience, etc., for the GPB would be more powerful, existing in all possible worlds, and being sovereign in all possible worlds) . Now let us return to W. It now seems completely clear that W could not be such that, if the GPB is coherent (and therefore possible), W could not fail to exemplify the GPB.

But have we then demonstrated that coherence is really the issue here? Is it possible that we are just thinking up some thing, calling it the GPB, and then arguing it into “supposed” existence? Logically, it does not seem so.

The reason is because we are arguing that the GPB entails these properties. Things have, essentially properties. I exemplify the property of “having fingers.” I also exemplify the properties of “being finite,” “being human,” “having two feet,” etc. These properties don’t belong to me simply because someone sat around and decided to assign them to me, rather they belong to me because of the kind of thing I am. (Parrish argues similarly, 55). But in the same way, we could answer such objections by saying that these properties are part of the concept of God because that’s the kind of thing God is. Certainly, there have been all kinds of “gods” claimed throughout history that are finite in power or activity, but those aren’t the “gods” whose existence we are arguing for. Rather, we are arguing for the existence of the God of classical theism, and that God has such properties as necessary existence (in the analytic sense), omnipotence, omniscience, etc. This objection really doesn’t have any weight. But again, let’s assume for the sake of argument that it does.

Let’s assume that the objection may be true. We are just taking some “X” and arbitrarily saying that it is omnipotent, necessary, etc. Does that preclude such an object existing? I don’t see how this could be true. But even further, some claim that this doesn’t match up with Christianity’s concept of God. This seems preposterous. One needs only to open a  Bible to find that, while words like “omnipotence” are not used, words like “Almighty”, “Most High”, and the like constantly are. And what kind of objection is this really? Is the person making this objection going to concede that it is possible that there exists some nearly-omnipotent-but-not-actually-omnipotent creator of the universe? No, the objection is beyond logic and into emotional repugnance at the thought of God actually existing.

But we can even go further. For let us simply define God as the Greatest Possible being. This seems like it could very easily operate as a definition of what  “God” is, at least on classical theism. Well then, what properties might this Greatest Possible Being have? And then we simply build them up. Omnipotence seems obvious, as does omniscience, as does necessity, etc. So this isn’t some arbitrary assigning-to of properties, but rather such properties are part of the GPB simply because of what the GPB actually is, if the GPB existed.

Now we can return to the matter at hand. Does God exist? Well it follows from all of this that yes, God does exist. The theist has established that there are some arguments that deductively prove that God does exist. The only “way out” for the atheist is to attack premise one and argue that the concept of the GPB is, in fact, contradictory. And let’s be honest, there have been many attempts to do so. I can’t possibly go into all of them here, but I can state simply that I remain unconvinced. Often these arguments are things like “Omnipotence and omniscience are impossible to have, because if God knows in advance what He’s going to do, He can’t do anything else!” This argument is obviously false, for simply knowing what is going to happen is not causation. I know that a sheep is an animal, this does not cause the sheep to be an animal. I know that I am going to finish typing this post, that does not cause me to do so. Rather, I choose to continue typing and finish this post.

Of course, one might say “You can’t really know you’re going to finish this post! Your computer might explode and you may get brain washed, etc.” Well that is a whole different debate, but I think that such objections, ironically, actually apply not at all to God. For if God is omniscient and omnipotent, it seems clear that God actually would be above such things! For nothing could prevent God from finishing something He knows He’s going to do! Not only that, but God’s knowledge is such that He actually would know He is going to do something, and freely chooses to do so. I don’t see why God’s foreknowledge of an event somehow limits omnipotence, especially when one considers that God is part of agent-causation, so God chooses to do the things He is going to do. Thus, the argument falls apart.

But now I’m already farther off track than I was (and thus preventing myself from finishing this post, AH the irony!). Suffice to say that I very much doubt that any objection to the coherence of the GPB even comes close to succeeding. But then, if that is true, God exists.

Therefore God exists.

(Edit: I’ve included below a proof of Plantinga’s argument)

Let
Ax=df x is maximally great
Bx=df x is maximally excellent
W (Y) =df Y is a universal property
Ox = df x is omniscient, omnipotent, and morally perfect 1) ◊ (∃x)Ax pr
2) □(x)(Ax iff □Bx) pr
3) □(x)(Bx⊃Ox) pr
4) (Y)[W(Y) iff (□(∃x)Yx ∨ (□~(∃x)Yx)] pr
5) (Y)[(∃Z)□(x)(Yx iff □Zx)⊃ W(Y)] pr
6) (∃Z)□(x)(Ax iff □Zx) 2, Existential Generalization
7) [(∃Z)□(x)(Ax iff □Zx)⊃W(A)] 5, Universal Instantiation
8 ) W(A) iff (□(∃x)Ax ∨ (□~(∃x)Ax) 4, Universal Instantiation
9) W (A) 6, 7 Modus Ponens
10) W(A)⊃ (□(∃x)Ax ∨ (□~(∃x)Ax) 8, Equivalence, Simplification
11) □(∃x)Ax (□~(∃x)Ax) 9, 10 Modus Ponens
12) ~◊~~(∃x)Ax ∨ (□(∃x)Ax) 11, Communication, Modal Equivalence
13) ◊(∃x)Ax ⊃ □(∃x)Ax Double Negation, Impl
14) □(∃x)Ax 1, 13 Modus Ponens
15) □(x)(Ax iff □Bx) ⊃ (□(∃x)Ax ⊃ □(∃x)□Bx) theorem
16) □(∃x)□Bx 14, 15 Modus Ponens (twice)
17) □(x)(Bx ⊃ Ox) ⊃ (□(∃x)□Bx ⊃ □(∃x)□Ox theorem
18) □(∃x)□Bx 16, 17 Modus Ponens (twice)
19) (∃x)□Bx 18, Necessity Elimination
(taken directly from Maydole)

Sources:

Maydole, Robert E. “The Ontological Argument.” The Blackwell Companion to Natural Theology. Edited William Lane Craig and J.P. Moreland. Blackwell, 2009.

Parrish, Stephen E. God and Necessity. University Press of America. 1997.

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The preceding post is the property of J.W. Wartick (apart from citations, which are the property of their respective owners) and should not be reproduced in part or in whole without the expressed consent of the author.

Naturalism and Groundless Truth

I’ve been reflecting on the concept of “Warrant” a lot as I’m reading through Alvin Plantinga’s trilogy on Warrant (including the books Warrant: The Current Debate, Warrant and Proper Function, and Warranted Christian Belief). Just how is it that we can claim that someone is justified or warranted in believing something? This got me thinking on naturalism. I remember an example someone quoted as being Plantingian in origin (edit: I’ve finally figured out where I originally read it: it’s found in a similar form in Warrant and Proper Function), but I’d like to use my own version of what I remember from his example. I do not believe that, on naturalism in particular, but atheism in general, there can be any grounds for believing that we as humans have the cognitive means by which we can discover truth. Further, on naturalism specifically and atheism in general, there is no reason to suppose that what we regard as “truth” is in fact truth.

I think perhaps the best way to argue this would be by using an example (and it is in this example that I borrow from Plantinga… I think. It has been heavily modified by myself into a form that doesn’t resemble the original form that I remember all that much). Let us consider the case of Tim the Tiger Lover and Suzy the Warrior.

Tim the Tiger Lover has formed false beliefs that a) wild tigers are warm and cuddly and b) the best way to pet them is to sneak away from them silently. Suzy the Warrior has formed the beliefs that a) wild tigers are ferocious critters and b) they must be killed to insure the survival of mankind.

Tim and Suzy are walking through the jungle one day, when they spot in the distance a tiger. Now, Tim immediately begins joyfully sneaking away, believing that he will soon be petting that warm, cuddly tiger. Suzy dashes forward to attempt to strangle the beast with her bare hands. Suzy dies, though it seems clear that her beliefs were at least partially true (wild tigers are indeed ferocious). Tim, however, succeeds in escaping and surviving, despite this not actually being his goal.

Now, on naturalism, it seems quite obvious that Tim has succeeded. He has survived, and will thus pass his genes on to the next generation. Indeed, it seems quite likely he will pass along his false beliefs as well. For let us modify the scenario only slightly and say that it was quite dark. While Suzy was being torn to bits by the tiger, Tim happened upon a tiger cub or some other beast he took to be a tiger cub. He immediately, happily danced with it and cuddled it for a while before sneaking away to go home, having quite happily reinforced his false beliefs. So Tim, with his false beliefs enforced by some data that they are in fact true (after all, he sneaked away quietly from the tiger and managed to pet tigers), also manages to survive, and therefore pass along his genes and his false beliefs.

But this means that, on naturalism, Tim has succeeded! His genes have been passed on, and he has, in a way, won the race for survival by having done so. But if this is the case, then why should we not suppose that there are any number of these cases in fact? For there is no reason to suppose that, granting atheistic naturalism, this case and many hundreds, thousands, millions etc. of others should not be actual. Indeed, there seems to be no non-question-begging way for naturalism to claim that evolution in particular or naturalism in general is truth-oriented or truth-seeking.

Why should we then, on naturalism or atheism, suppose that we even have the cognitive capability to learn truth or discover it? The most common answer that has been given is that it is to our evolutionary advantage to know truth and use it. But this, as seen in the case above, does not seem to be true all the time, and there really is no reason to suppose it must be true any of the time. I’ll grant that we must at least learn some truths if evolution is true in order to survive, but why suppose that our species is necessarily truth-seeking? It seems clear to me that there is no reason to suppose this, and thus there is no reason to think that, granting naturalism and atheism, we should think that we know the truth or indeed can know it! For our evolutionary past could be  utterly filled to the brim with Tim the Tiger Seekers! There are any number of beliefs that we hold now, from our evolutionary forefathers, that are in fact utterly false! But we have no reason to know that or even be able to discover that, especially if they are falsely confirmed!

So if naturalism and atheism are indeed true, then there is no reason at all to suppose that anything we know constitutes true knowledge or true beliefs. There is no ground for truth in naturalism, and indeed I believe there is sufficient reason to think that naturalism would likely have us forming all kinds of false beliefs, without ever finding out otherwise. Sure, we may eventually eliminate some of them, but only while we are forming more false beliefs in the meantime!

Thus, I find this another reason to reject naturalism, which I’ve already discussed as being unintelligible and undermining things it should hold most dear.

Book Review: The Nature of Necessity

Alright, I managed to finish another book this weekend. This is one I’ve been working through for months. Literally.

The Nature of Necessity by Alvin Plantinga is quite the philosophy book. In it, Plantinga tackles “The distinction between necessary and contingent truth (1)…” He distinguishes necessity de re and de dicto necessity. De dicto necessity he defines as “a matter of a proposition’s being necessarily true (v)” while de re necessity is “an object’s having a property essentially or necessarily.”

The first few chapters compose Plantinga’s argument for de re necessity by showing that such things can be shown in de dicto terms. It is quite an interesting section, and one in which I think Plantinga makes a strong case. Chapter IV I found particularly interesting, as Plantinga’s discussion here starts to turn to modal logic. The discussion of how we should define worlds, books (which I take to mean a list of propositions that belong to a given world), actuality, possibility, and the like. This discussion is extremely interesting and leads to some conclusions like “A possible world… is a possible state of affairs in the broadly logical sense… a state of affairs S is complete or maximal if for every state of affairs S’, S includes S’ or S precludes S’. And a possible world is simply a possible state of affairs that is maximal (45).”

But then, “Equally obviously [as that one state of affairs obtains], at most one obtains; for suppose two worlds W and W* are distinct worlds, there will be some state of affairs S such that W includes S and W* precludes S. But then if both W and W* are actual, S both obtains and does not obtain; and this, as they say, is repugnant to the intellect (45).”

These kinds of conclusions are to be found throughout The Nature of Necessity and it is this that makes the book such a good read. Plantinga’s descriptions of various states of affairs never fails to entertain, as his sense of humor is present at places throughout the book, while he still maintains his extremely rigorous treatment of the items at hand.

In later chapters (notably VI), Plantinga defends his version of necessity from alternatives, and in the process raises some objections to these alternatives. I’d write more of these out, but the fact of the matter is that the Nature of Necessity has that problem that I believe most books that are so heavy on analytic philosophy have: if one doesn’t read the whole, it is hard to understand any one part. This isn’t really a strike against the book, but is rather simply of note. The way that Plantinga builds on each previous point throughout the book helps give his case clarity.

Once Plantinga has gotten the bulk of the text out of the way, having made a strong case for necessity, he gets into how it is that these concepts apply to God, particularly the theistic God. The chapters about God and evil and God and necessity are largely recycled (or perhaps reworked) versions of his book God, Freedom, and Evil. As such, I didn’t spend a lot of time on these chapters, but in them Plantinga presents his case for the “Victorious Modal” version of the Ontological Argument. It is a version that I think has great potential, and has been the subject of some debate (see Graham Oppy, for instance… or the Blackwell Companion to Natural Theology‘s treatment). Plantinga’s defense of theism from the problem of evil is equally impressive. I have written about it in the past, so I will not do so again, but I do think that Plantinga’s various arguments carry some weight and certainly merit discussion among apologists.

The Nature of Necessity closes with an appendix of some length (30 pages) about modal logic. Specifically, it is directed at answering objections (and more specifically, Quine’s objections) to modal logic. I believe that Plantinga does a fine job of taking on this task, and making a valid case for modal logic, but readers must be absolutely warned that a deep understanding of symbolic logic is required to even begin to approach the appendix. I recommend tackling some texts on logic before reading the appendix. As it was, I had to write out a list of the symbols being used in order to understand this section. It took me several days to get through the appendix alone. But once one does so, they will find that it is yet another rewarding section in an overall wonderful book.

The book weighs in at about 251 pages (including the appendix, but not including the preface), but the content that it includes is immense. Not only that, but the text itself is so heavy that a single page can often take minutes to work through and ponder. I recommend The Nature of Necessity to those who wish to explore, well, necessity and what it means further. It is by no means an easy work to read, and will require quite a bit of pondering and rereading, but in the end the payoff is worth it.

Scores (5 is truly average):

Quality of Arguments (if it applies): 10

Overall Content: 8

Difficulty: 9

Clarity: 9

Theology/Doctrine: N/A- other than theism, this doesn’t really have enough to judge the work based on Doctrinal or Theological stances

Value (price): 8- There’s a lot here, and I think it warrants the purchase price.

Relevance: 6- I don’t know how much use I’ll get out of the book as an apologetic work. Plantinga’s God, Freedom, and Evil may be more useful in this regard, but that doesn’t really take away from how much I liked the book

Review Criteria:

The Quality of arguments is just what it says. Obviously this is subjective. Do I think the arguments presented in the book (if there are any) are valid and/or useful?

Overall Content is a general judge of how good I felt the book is.

Difficulty is the amount of work it takes to get through the work. Higher values don’t necessarily mean the book is better, just more difficult to read.

Clarity simply outlines how clear I believe the author was.

Theology/Doctrine is my judgment, clearly based on my presuppositions, of how good I felt the author’s theological or doctrinal content was (if there is any).

Value is a determination of whether I believe the book is worth the asking price.

Relevance outlines whether I think the book has real-life applications. A low score in this doesn’t necessarily mean the book is bad, just that I believe there may not be much to use. In other words, a book could score low on this criterium, but I might still find it quite good.