I am in occasional contact with religious people, and they don’t behave as the “separate magisteria” hypothesis would predict.
For instance, I have heard things along the following lines: “I hope my son gets better.” “Well, that’s not in your hands, that’s in God’s hands.” All this said quite matter-of-factly.
There is active denial here of something that belongs in the magisterium of physical cause and effect, and active presumption of interference from the supposedly separate magisterium of faith.
Of course most of those people back down from the most radical consequences of these beliefs, they still go see a doctor when the situation warrants—although I understand a significant number do see conflict (or at least interaction) between their faith and medical interventions such as organ transplants or blood transfusions.
This isn’t just an epiphenomenal dragon, it’s a dragon whose proscriptions and prescriptions impinge on people’s material lives.
For instance, I have heard things along the following lines: “I hope my son gets better.” “Well, that’s not in your hands, that’s in God’s hands.” All this said quite matter-of-factly.
I do not think this is the best example you could have given, because it can be interpreted—and often is meant as—just a version of the Serenity Prayer.
Much worse is when people promise to pray for you, or advise you to pray, as though this will improve the chances of everything turning out OK. In these cases, I try to just focus on their good intentions; that they will pray for me because they do care. However, sometimes I really do get quite upset with having to pretend that I’m grateful for and satisfied with their prayers when perhaps I would like more sympathy and emotional support or pragmatic help.
For instance, I have heard things along the following lines: “I hope my son gets better.” “Well, that’s not in your hands, that’s in God’s hands.” All this said quite matter-of-factly.
Think of the relation between the magisteria as a one-way relationship. The supernatural can affect the natural but there is no way to move backwards into the supernatural.
This is flat wrong and doesn’t accurately describe the theology/cosmology of most theists, but it helps when using the concept of magisteria. Personally, I don’t think the term magisteria is completely useful in this context.
There is a deep problem behind all of these things where one layer or set of beliefs trumps another. In a framework of map/territory beliefs this makes little sense. It certainly doesn’t translate well when talking to someone who doesn’t adhere to a map/territory framework.
An example: If you asked the person why God didn’t make your son get better you will get a bazillion answers. Likewise, if you asked about taking your son to the hospital they will tell you that you should. These two beliefs aren’t in conflict in their system.
I have watched an entire congregation pray for someone who had cancer. They earnestly believed that their prayer was having some effect but if you asked for particulars you will get the bazillion answers. These people are not trying to explain away a future answer. They have seen what appears to be a bazillion different endgames for the scenario they are now in. That, mixed in with the crazy amount of factions within Christian theological circles, isn’t going to make sense with a map/territory framework. But they aren’t using that framework.
The weak assumption in the dragon example is that the believer of the dragon hasn’t already tried using a CO2 meter. Don’t underestimate the amount of historical questions packed behind the confusing answers you get when you ask someone to prove their dragon exists.
That being said, the dragon example does bring up a very awesome and valid point. If I took a few of those people who were in that congregation who prayed about cancer and asked them years later about the prayee’s status… what would they say? Would they expect a change in their state? Would the cancer be gone? What do they expect from the prayer? My guess is that they wouldn’t make any prediction.
Think of the relation between the magisteria as a one-way relationship. The supernatural can affect the natural but there is no way to move backwards into the supernatural.
Then the natural can perceive the supernatural but not vice versa. To perceive something is to be affected by it.
The real problem with those who go on about separate magisteria is that they are emitting words that sound impressive to them and that associate vaguely to some sort of even vaguer intuition, but they are not doing anything that would translate into thinking, let alone coherent thinking.
I’m sorry to be brutal about this, but nothing I have ever heard anyone say about “separate magisteria” has ever been conceptually coherent let alone consistent.
There’s just one magisterium, it’s called reality; and whatever is, is real. It’s a silly concept. It cannot be salvaged. Kill it with fire.
I grew up as a Mormon; they have a very different view of God than most Christians.
God is an “exalted man”, essentially a human that passed through a singularity. Also, regarding spirits: “There is no such thing as immaterial matter. All spirit is matter, but it is more fine or pure, and can only be discerned by purer eyes. We cannot see it; but when our bodies are purified we shall see that it is all matter.” Spirits are “children” of God, literally progeny in some sense. Spirits are attached to human bodies, live life as mortal beings, and then separate, retaining the memories of that time; the promise of the resurrection is a permanent fusing of spirit matter to undying bodies made of normal matter, and exaltation, reserved for those who prove worthy, is the ability to create spirit beings. It is the spirit that is conscious. “Eternity” just means “far longer than you have the ability to properly conceive of”. “Sin” means “addictive substances or behaviors”.
This sort of story is pretty decent sci-fi for early 1800s.
Mormons fully expect spirit matter to show up in the correct theory of physics, whether it’s dark matter or supersymmetric particles, or whatever.
As a missionary, I encouraged people to pray and ask God if the Book of Mormon was true; many who did so had an experience that was so unusual that they took us very seriously after that. Those that didn’t couldn’t be held accountable for not believing us, since that kind of experience was up to God to provide.
I now think there are simpler explanations for most of what I once believed. It took me a long time to come to the conclusion that I was wrong because of the “no conflict between science and religion” tenet, and I was raised as a Mormon in a very loving, functional family, and had particularly clever parents who were very good apologists, and I’m not a very good rationalist yet.
The real problem with those who go on about separate magisteria is that they are emitting words that sound impressive to them and that associate vaguely to some sort of even vaguer intuition, but they are not doing anything that would translate into thinking, let alone coherent thinking.
Erm… I agree with you? I don’t think the term magisteria is an accurate description of what they believe:
This is flat wrong and doesn’t accurately describe the theology/cosmology of most theists, but it helps when using the concept of magisteria. Personally, I don’t think the term magisteria is completely useful in this context.
“Magisteria” doesn’t do anything useful. People have been using the word to describe why theists think God is “above” empirical results.
Then the natural can perceive the supernatural but not vice versa. To perceive something is to be affected by it.
Blarg. This is a semantic war. “Affect,” in this case has nothing to do with perception. Don’t forget that these people are not working with the same framework. I am not trying to defend the framework or even that I am claiming it for myself. I am only trying to help explain something.
I’m sorry to be brutal about this, but nothing I have ever heard anyone say about “separate magisteria” has ever been conceptually coherent let alone consistent.
There’s just one magisterium, it’s called reality; and whatever is, is real. It’s a silly concept. It cannot be salvaged. Kill it with fire.
Yeah, okay, I am with you. I hope I wasn’t giving the impression that I am advocating separate magisteria. You don’t have to apologize for being brutal; I am confused that it seems directed at me.
I think it is a useless concept even then. It doesn’t make sense and doesn’t compute. By the time you translate whatever “stupidity” you are describing into “magisterium” you (a) know enough about the stupidity to speak to it on its own terms and (b) aren’t really talking about the stupidity; you are talking about magisterium which is a bastardization of two beliefs. How does that help?
Think of the relation between the magisteria as a one-way relationship. The supernatural can affect the natural but there is no way to move backwards into the supernatural.
As a specific example of Eliezer’s larger point, prayer is a natural attempt to influence the supernatural; so by that account, prayer must be futile.
Er, I am not defending the idea of one-way relationships between magisteria. The point was meant to highlight that magisteria is very much the wrong term.
As far as the one-way relationship, the term was not used to mean communication, causality, or anything else in particular.
The easiest example is a write-only folder on my computer. I can drop a file in that folder but do not have any direct measurement of its success or what happens to it after I drop it there. This relationship is “one-way” in the same way that my original statement was using “one-way.” Likewise, a read-only file can be opened and viewed but not modified. This is also “one-way” in the same manner that I meant “one-way” in the original statement.
Both of these examples are not one-way in the manner that magisteria would describe one-way.
And again, I am not trying to defend this view. I am merely trying to describe why magisteria is the wrong term.
Prayer would be an example of dropping a file into a write-only folder. We do something and assume that something happens to it later. We don’t have access to whatever happens because we don’t have read access.
As a specific example of Eliezer’s larger point, prayer is a natural attempt to influence the supernatural; so by that account, prayer must be futile.
This statement wouldn’t make any sense in the cosmology of a typical theist. That cosmology may be completely wrong but using this statement to tell them that prayer is futile would make you sound like a complete nut. The discussion needs to start somewhere else.
I am in occasional contact with religious people, and they don’t behave as the “separate magisteria” hypothesis would predict. [...] There is active denial here of something that belongs, in the magisterium of physical cause and effect, and active presumption of interference from the supposedly separate magisterium of faith.
Interactions between the magisteria are contradictions for you, not necessarily to a dualist who believes it all works out, somehow. (For example, somehow we know about the second magesterium, and knowledge of it has significance on our interaction with the first.)
Also complicating matters is that each religious person has their own location on a scale of self-consistency. I find that most religious people fall well short of self-consistent, but not as short as claiming the dragon doesn’t breath just so the CO2 detector won’t be used.
My point in the comments above is that when religious people claim that there is no evidence or counter-evidence for God, it’s not as often a desperate measure to protect their belief, but simply that their belief in God is not meant to be about an empirical fact like a dragon would be.
Interactions between the magisteria are contradictions for you, not necessarily to a dualist who believes it all works out, somehow.
Contradictions are contradictions. If, in general, the magisteria don’t interact, but in some specific case, they do interact, that’s a contradiction. It’s a model that doesn’t meet the axioms. That is a matter of logic. You can say “The dualist asserts that no interaction is taking place”, but you can’t say, “for the dualist, that is not a contradiction”.
I’m sorry to be brutal about this, but nothing I have ever heard anyone say about “separate magisteria” has ever been conceptually coherent let alone consistent.
I challenge myself to show you a concept of “separate magisteria” that is conceptually coherent and consistent. Of course it requires relaxation of the initial assumptions of empiricism. Should I proceed, or do you already grant the conclusion if I am going to relax these assumptions, to save me the trouble?
There is active denial here of something that belongs in the magisterium of physical cause and effect,
The set of religious people I’m talking about don’t deny things in this magisterium. They believe that things in this magesterium would never be in conflict with their beliefs about the second.
The person who is speaking second in this exchange would have assumed that the parent has already done all the pragmatic things they should. It is always the case that the health of a child is outside the parent’s hands to some extent.
When I used the words “active denial” I did so deliberately.
If you asked me about my son’s health, and I had cause to worry, I’d say something like: “We’re arranging the best care we can given our situation; we’re aware there’s a limit to how much we can know about what’s the matter with him, and a limit to how much we can control it.”
What a phrase like “God’s will” conveys is quite different. The meaning I get from it is that my efforts are futile: if it is part of God’s plan that my son should die, he will, no matter how much I arrange for the best care. If it is part of God’s plan that he should live, he will live, even if all I do is feed him herbs.
Now of course, in Bayesian terms, I have no usable priors about God’s plan. I can’t ever reason from the evidence—my son lives or dies—back to the hypothesis, since the hypothesis can explain everything. And if everybody admitted as much, it would be admissible to call this “a matter of faith, distinct from matters of evidence”. To say that everyone is free to form whatever bizarre beliefs they like.
The big issue, the elephant in the drawing room, is that faith is not just a private matter. There are people who do claim that they have privileged information about God’s plan—that matters of faith, for them, are matters of evidence. And this privileged access to God’s plan gives them a right to pass judgment on matters of worldly policy, for instance the current Pope’s recent proclamations on the use of condoms to fight the AIDS epidemic.
How is that not denying things in this magisterium?
If the “separate magisteria” hypothesis was tenable, we would have no reason to see so many people hold correlated beliefs about the non-physical magisterium. Each person would form their own private faith, and let each other person do the same. (The humor of Pastafarianism resides precisely in the ironic way they take this for granted.)
Correlated beliefs can only mean that the magisteria are not separate. To be one of the faithful is to claim—even indirectly, by association—some knowledge that outsiders lack.
The real issue, when you think of it that way, isn’t faith. It’s power—political power.
If the “separate magisteria” hypothesis was tenable, we would have no reason to see so many people hold correlated beliefs about the non-physical magisterium.
The correlation of beliefs (discounting bible literalists, etc.) is mainly over value judgements rather than empirical facts. For example, if you disagree with the Pope, you probably disagree with his ethics rather than any scientific statements he is making.
Pope Benedict XVI has every right to express his opposition to the use of condoms on moral grounds, in accordance with the official stance of the Roman Catholic Church. But he deserves no credence when he distorts scientific findings about the value of condoms in slowing the spread of the AIDS virus.
I have no idea. My meta-ethics are in flux as a result of my readings here.
I have described myself as a “Rawlsian”, if that will help. It seems to me that most of our intuitions about ethics are intutions about how people’s claims against each other are to be settled, when a conflict arises.
I believe that there are discoverable regularities in what agreements we can converge on, under a range of processes for convergence, humanity’s checkered history being one such process. What convinced me of this was Axelrod’s book on cooperation and other readings in game theory, plus Rawls. The veil of ignorance is a brilliant abstraction of the processes for coming to agreements.
I think the Pope is being an ass when he says that condoms would worsen the AIDS epidemic rather than mitigate it. I don’t know much about his personal ethics. I don’t pay much attention to Popes in general.
I most emphatically do not believe that the Pope has “every right to express his opposition to the use of condoms on moral grounds”. Perhaps he has a right to a private opinion on the matter.
But when he makes such a claim, given his influence as pontiff, it is a fact that large numbers of people will act in accordance, and will suffer needlessly as a result—either by contracting the disease or by remaining celibate for no good reason. They are not acting under their own judgement: if the Pope said it was OK to wear rubber, they would gladly wear rubber.
You’ve brought up many different points in this comment. Am I wrong to feel phalanxed?
I don’t see anything here that has to do with the original point I was making, except possibly an admission that you refuse to consider the group of theists I was talking about.
I guess the problem is that we’re all talking about different belief sets—me, you, MrHen—and without pinpointing which belief culture we’re talking about or knowledge of their relative incidence, this is fruitless.
without pinpointing which beliefs we’re talking about [...], this is fruitless
Agree entirely (I said as much in response to MrHen’s “outing” post); so I wanted this to be about things I’d heard first-hand.
“Phalanxed” is a word I wasn’t familiar with, but I hear your connotation of “mustering many arguments”, as in military muster. I’ll cop to having felt angry as I was writing the above; that isn’t directed at you.
I went back to your original comment, the nub of which I take to be this: you tolerate as self-consistent the belief of some groups of theists, on the grounds that their beliefs have no empirical consequences, and that is precisely what marks these beliefs as “faith”.
The nub of what I wanted to say is: you’re reading the exchange I quoted generously. The way I heard it, it had a different meaning. My understanding is that these women weren’t using “God” as a synonym for “luck/uncertainty”. They were referring to the personal God who takes an active interest in people’s lives, which is what they’ve been taught in their churches. (This is just something I overheard while passing them in the street, so I don’t know which church. But I picked this example to illustrate how common it is, even for an atheist, to hear this kind of thing.)
I have looked up Calvinists, if that’s who you mean by “the group of theists” in question. Their doctrines, such as “unconditional election”, refer (as best I can understand those things) to a personal God too, which is expected as a subgroup of Christians. They take the Bible to provide privileged access to God’s plan.
A personal God who takes an active interest in events in this world, as outlined in the Bible, does not meet your criteria for tolerance. It is a belief which has empirical consequences, such as the condemnation of homosexuality. It doesn’t matter how “benign” or “moderate” these inferences are; they show up “separate magisteria” as a pretence.
I went back to your original comment, the nub of which I take to be this: you tolerate as self-consistent the belief of some groups of theists, on the grounds that their beliefs have no empirical consequences, and that is precisely what marks these beliefs as “faith”.
I was responding to the idea that theists are involved in blatant double-think where they anticipate ways that their beliefs can be empirically refuted and find preemptive defenses. The idea of “separate magisteria” may have been one such defense, but it is the last: once they identify God as non-empirical they don’t have to worry about CO2 detectors or flour or X-ray machines—ever. I think that the continued insistence on thinking of God as a creature hidden in the garage that should leave some kind of empirical trace reveals the inferential distance between a world view which requires that beliefs meet empirical standards and one that does not.
You suggest that the “separate magisteria” is a pretense. This appears to be along the lines of what Eliezer is arguing as well; that it is a convenient ‘get out of jail free’ card. I think this is an interesting hypothesis—I don’t object to it, since it makes some sense.
We base our views about religion on our personal experiences with it. I feel like I encounter people with views much more reasonable than the ones described here fairly often. I thought that ‘separate magesteria’ described their thinking pretty well, since religion doesn’t effect their pragmatic, day-to-day decisions. (Moral/ethical behavior is a big exception of course.) I’ve encountered people who insist that prayers have the power to change events, but I don’t think this is a reasonable view.
I thought people mostly prayed to focus intentions and unload anxiety. Some data on what people actually believe would be extremely useful.
I polled some theist friends who happened to be online, asking “What do you think the useful effects of prayer are, on you, the subject on which you pray, or anything else?” and followup questions to get clarification/elaboration.
Episcopalian: “The most concrete effect of prayer is to help me calm down about stressful situations. The subject is generally not directly affected. It is my outlook that is most often changed. Psychologically, it helps me to let go of the cause of stress. It’s like a spiritual form of delegation.”
Irish Catholic With Jesuit Tendencies: “The Ignation spirituality system has a lot to do with using prayer to focus and distance yourself from the emotions and petty concerns surrounding the problem. Through detatched analysis, one can gain better perspective on the correct choice. … Well, ostensibly, it’s akin to meditation, and other forms of calming reflection possible in other religions. For me, though, I tend to pray, a) in times of crisis, b) in Mass, and c) for other people who I think can use whatever karmic juju my clicking of proverbial chicken lips can muster.” (On being asked whether the “karmic juju” affects the people prayed for:) “It’s one of those things. “I think I can, I think I can.”″ (I said: “So it helps you help them?”) “I guess. Often, there’s little else you can do for folks.”
Mormon: “Well, I think it depends on the need of the person involved and the ability of that person to take care of him/herself. I have heard stories from people I trust where miraculous things have occured as the result of prayer. But I find that, for me personally, prayer gives me comfort, courage, and sometimes, through prayer, my thoughts are oriented in ways that allow me to see a problem from an angle I couldn’t before and therefore solve it. Is it beneficial? Yes. Is it divine intervention? Hard to say. Even if it’s just someone feeling more positive as a result of a prayer, I think it’s a benefit—particularly for the sick. Positive attitudes seem to help a lot there.”
Even better, a study. (Upshot: Praying for someone has a significant effect on the praying individual’s inclination to be selfless and forgiving toward that person.)
Thank you, Alicorn. It’s very helpful to have any data. Even data from people that are educated and comfortable with atheism, like myself, is better than atheists just speculating about what theists think.
This was a sample of friends of an atheistic philosopher who were answering a question by that same philosopher. The sample, unfortunately, tells me almost nothing about the general population.
I’ve encountered people who insist that prayers have the power to change events, but I don’t think this is a reasonable view.
Believing in a specific God (who, for example, promises to answer prayers) is an unreasonable view. Believing in the same God but also believing that prayers are unable to change events is even more unreasonable. It’s just more practical.
I am in occasional contact with religious people, and they don’t behave as the “separate magisteria” hypothesis would predict.
For instance, I have heard things along the following lines: “I hope my son gets better.” “Well, that’s not in your hands, that’s in God’s hands.” All this said quite matter-of-factly.
There is active denial here of something that belongs in the magisterium of physical cause and effect, and active presumption of interference from the supposedly separate magisterium of faith.
Of course most of those people back down from the most radical consequences of these beliefs, they still go see a doctor when the situation warrants—although I understand a significant number do see conflict (or at least interaction) between their faith and medical interventions such as organ transplants or blood transfusions.
This isn’t just an epiphenomenal dragon, it’s a dragon whose proscriptions and prescriptions impinge on people’s material lives.
I do not think this is the best example you could have given, because it can be interpreted—and often is meant as—just a version of the Serenity Prayer.
Much worse is when people promise to pray for you, or advise you to pray, as though this will improve the chances of everything turning out OK. In these cases, I try to just focus on their good intentions; that they will pray for me because they do care. However, sometimes I really do get quite upset with having to pretend that I’m grateful for and satisfied with their prayers when perhaps I would like more sympathy and emotional support or pragmatic help.
Think of the relation between the magisteria as a one-way relationship. The supernatural can affect the natural but there is no way to move backwards into the supernatural.
This is flat wrong and doesn’t accurately describe the theology/cosmology of most theists, but it helps when using the concept of magisteria. Personally, I don’t think the term magisteria is completely useful in this context.
There is a deep problem behind all of these things where one layer or set of beliefs trumps another. In a framework of map/territory beliefs this makes little sense. It certainly doesn’t translate well when talking to someone who doesn’t adhere to a map/territory framework.
An example: If you asked the person why God didn’t make your son get better you will get a bazillion answers. Likewise, if you asked about taking your son to the hospital they will tell you that you should. These two beliefs aren’t in conflict in their system.
I have watched an entire congregation pray for someone who had cancer. They earnestly believed that their prayer was having some effect but if you asked for particulars you will get the bazillion answers. These people are not trying to explain away a future answer. They have seen what appears to be a bazillion different endgames for the scenario they are now in. That, mixed in with the crazy amount of factions within Christian theological circles, isn’t going to make sense with a map/territory framework. But they aren’t using that framework.
The weak assumption in the dragon example is that the believer of the dragon hasn’t already tried using a CO2 meter. Don’t underestimate the amount of historical questions packed behind the confusing answers you get when you ask someone to prove their dragon exists.
That being said, the dragon example does bring up a very awesome and valid point. If I took a few of those people who were in that congregation who prayed about cancer and asked them years later about the prayee’s status… what would they say? Would they expect a change in their state? Would the cancer be gone? What do they expect from the prayer? My guess is that they wouldn’t make any prediction.
Then the natural can perceive the supernatural but not vice versa. To perceive something is to be affected by it.
The real problem with those who go on about separate magisteria is that they are emitting words that sound impressive to them and that associate vaguely to some sort of even vaguer intuition, but they are not doing anything that would translate into thinking, let alone coherent thinking.
I’m sorry to be brutal about this, but nothing I have ever heard anyone say about “separate magisteria” has ever been conceptually coherent let alone consistent.
There’s just one magisterium, it’s called reality; and whatever is, is real. It’s a silly concept. It cannot be salvaged. Kill it with fire.
I grew up as a Mormon; they have a very different view of God than most Christians.
God is an “exalted man”, essentially a human that passed through a singularity. Also, regarding spirits: “There is no such thing as immaterial matter. All spirit is matter, but it is more fine or pure, and can only be discerned by purer eyes. We cannot see it; but when our bodies are purified we shall see that it is all matter.” Spirits are “children” of God, literally progeny in some sense. Spirits are attached to human bodies, live life as mortal beings, and then separate, retaining the memories of that time; the promise of the resurrection is a permanent fusing of spirit matter to undying bodies made of normal matter, and exaltation, reserved for those who prove worthy, is the ability to create spirit beings. It is the spirit that is conscious. “Eternity” just means “far longer than you have the ability to properly conceive of”. “Sin” means “addictive substances or behaviors”.
This sort of story is pretty decent sci-fi for early 1800s.
Mormons fully expect spirit matter to show up in the correct theory of physics, whether it’s dark matter or supersymmetric particles, or whatever.
As a missionary, I encouraged people to pray and ask God if the Book of Mormon was true; many who did so had an experience that was so unusual that they took us very seriously after that. Those that didn’t couldn’t be held accountable for not believing us, since that kind of experience was up to God to provide.
I now think there are simpler explanations for most of what I once believed. It took me a long time to come to the conclusion that I was wrong because of the “no conflict between science and religion” tenet, and I was raised as a Mormon in a very loving, functional family, and had particularly clever parents who were very good apologists, and I’m not a very good rationalist yet.
Erm… I agree with you? I don’t think the term magisteria is an accurate description of what they believe:
“Magisteria” doesn’t do anything useful. People have been using the word to describe why theists think God is “above” empirical results.
Blarg. This is a semantic war. “Affect,” in this case has nothing to do with perception. Don’t forget that these people are not working with the same framework. I am not trying to defend the framework or even that I am claiming it for myself. I am only trying to help explain something.
Yeah, okay, I am with you. I hope I wasn’t giving the impression that I am advocating separate magisteria. You don’t have to apologize for being brutal; I am confused that it seems directed at me.
Do you consider it a useful concept for describing a particular kind of stupidity (eg. Aumann)? Or is a useless concept even then?
I think it is a useless concept even then. It doesn’t make sense and doesn’t compute. By the time you translate whatever “stupidity” you are describing into “magisterium” you (a) know enough about the stupidity to speak to it on its own terms and (b) aren’t really talking about the stupidity; you are talking about magisterium which is a bastardization of two beliefs. How does that help?
As a specific example of Eliezer’s larger point, prayer is a natural attempt to influence the supernatural; so by that account, prayer must be futile.
Er, I am not defending the idea of one-way relationships between magisteria. The point was meant to highlight that magisteria is very much the wrong term.
As far as the one-way relationship, the term was not used to mean communication, causality, or anything else in particular.
The easiest example is a write-only folder on my computer. I can drop a file in that folder but do not have any direct measurement of its success or what happens to it after I drop it there. This relationship is “one-way” in the same way that my original statement was using “one-way.” Likewise, a read-only file can be opened and viewed but not modified. This is also “one-way” in the same manner that I meant “one-way” in the original statement.
Both of these examples are not one-way in the manner that magisteria would describe one-way.
And again, I am not trying to defend this view. I am merely trying to describe why magisteria is the wrong term.
Prayer would be an example of dropping a file into a write-only folder. We do something and assume that something happens to it later. We don’t have access to whatever happens because we don’t have read access.
This statement wouldn’t make any sense in the cosmology of a typical theist. That cosmology may be completely wrong but using this statement to tell them that prayer is futile would make you sound like a complete nut. The discussion needs to start somewhere else.
Interactions between the magisteria are contradictions for you, not necessarily to a dualist who believes it all works out, somehow. (For example, somehow we know about the second magesterium, and knowledge of it has significance on our interaction with the first.)
Also complicating matters is that each religious person has their own location on a scale of self-consistency. I find that most religious people fall well short of self-consistent, but not as short as claiming the dragon doesn’t breath just so the CO2 detector won’t be used.
My point in the comments above is that when religious people claim that there is no evidence or counter-evidence for God, it’s not as often a desperate measure to protect their belief, but simply that their belief in God is not meant to be about an empirical fact like a dragon would be.
Contradictions are contradictions. If, in general, the magisteria don’t interact, but in some specific case, they do interact, that’s a contradiction. It’s a model that doesn’t meet the axioms. That is a matter of logic. You can say “The dualist asserts that no interaction is taking place”, but you can’t say, “for the dualist, that is not a contradiction”.
I can.
In another comment you wrote,
I challenge myself to show you a concept of “separate magisteria” that is conceptually coherent and consistent. Of course it requires relaxation of the initial assumptions of empiricism. Should I proceed, or do you already grant the conclusion if I am going to relax these assumptions, to save me the trouble?
I read your comment again.
The set of religious people I’m talking about don’t deny things in this magisterium. They believe that things in this magesterium would never be in conflict with their beliefs about the second.
The person who is speaking second in this exchange would have assumed that the parent has already done all the pragmatic things they should. It is always the case that the health of a child is outside the parent’s hands to some extent.
When I used the words “active denial” I did so deliberately.
If you asked me about my son’s health, and I had cause to worry, I’d say something like: “We’re arranging the best care we can given our situation; we’re aware there’s a limit to how much we can know about what’s the matter with him, and a limit to how much we can control it.”
What a phrase like “God’s will” conveys is quite different. The meaning I get from it is that my efforts are futile: if it is part of God’s plan that my son should die, he will, no matter how much I arrange for the best care. If it is part of God’s plan that he should live, he will live, even if all I do is feed him herbs.
Now of course, in Bayesian terms, I have no usable priors about God’s plan. I can’t ever reason from the evidence—my son lives or dies—back to the hypothesis, since the hypothesis can explain everything. And if everybody admitted as much, it would be admissible to call this “a matter of faith, distinct from matters of evidence”. To say that everyone is free to form whatever bizarre beliefs they like.
The big issue, the elephant in the drawing room, is that faith is not just a private matter. There are people who do claim that they have privileged information about God’s plan—that matters of faith, for them, are matters of evidence. And this privileged access to God’s plan gives them a right to pass judgment on matters of worldly policy, for instance the current Pope’s recent proclamations on the use of condoms to fight the AIDS epidemic.
How is that not denying things in this magisterium?
If the “separate magisteria” hypothesis was tenable, we would have no reason to see so many people hold correlated beliefs about the non-physical magisterium. Each person would form their own private faith, and let each other person do the same. (The humor of Pastafarianism resides precisely in the ironic way they take this for granted.)
Correlated beliefs can only mean that the magisteria are not separate. To be one of the faithful is to claim—even indirectly, by association—some knowledge that outsiders lack.
The real issue, when you think of it that way, isn’t faith. It’s power—political power.
Just curious—are you a moral realist?
The correlation of beliefs (discounting bible literalists, etc.) is mainly over value judgements rather than empirical facts. For example, if you disagree with the Pope, you probably disagree with his ethics rather than any scientific statements he is making.
Yikes! NYtimes
I have no idea. My meta-ethics are in flux as a result of my readings here.
I have described myself as a “Rawlsian”, if that will help. It seems to me that most of our intuitions about ethics are intutions about how people’s claims against each other are to be settled, when a conflict arises.
I believe that there are discoverable regularities in what agreements we can converge on, under a range of processes for convergence, humanity’s checkered history being one such process. What convinced me of this was Axelrod’s book on cooperation and other readings in game theory, plus Rawls. The veil of ignorance is a brilliant abstraction of the processes for coming to agreements.
I think the Pope is being an ass when he says that condoms would worsen the AIDS epidemic rather than mitigate it. I don’t know much about his personal ethics. I don’t pay much attention to Popes in general.
I most emphatically do not believe that the Pope has “every right to express his opposition to the use of condoms on moral grounds”. Perhaps he has a right to a private opinion on the matter.
But when he makes such a claim, given his influence as pontiff, it is a fact that large numbers of people will act in accordance, and will suffer needlessly as a result—either by contracting the disease or by remaining celibate for no good reason. They are not acting under their own judgement: if the Pope said it was OK to wear rubber, they would gladly wear rubber.
You’ve brought up many different points in this comment. Am I wrong to feel phalanxed?
I don’t see anything here that has to do with the original point I was making, except possibly an admission that you refuse to consider the group of theists I was talking about.
I guess the problem is that we’re all talking about different belief sets—me, you, MrHen—and without pinpointing which belief culture we’re talking about or knowledge of their relative incidence, this is fruitless.
Agree entirely (I said as much in response to MrHen’s “outing” post); so I wanted this to be about things I’d heard first-hand.
“Phalanxed” is a word I wasn’t familiar with, but I hear your connotation of “mustering many arguments”, as in military muster. I’ll cop to having felt angry as I was writing the above; that isn’t directed at you.
I went back to your original comment, the nub of which I take to be this: you tolerate as self-consistent the belief of some groups of theists, on the grounds that their beliefs have no empirical consequences, and that is precisely what marks these beliefs as “faith”.
The nub of what I wanted to say is: you’re reading the exchange I quoted generously. The way I heard it, it had a different meaning. My understanding is that these women weren’t using “God” as a synonym for “luck/uncertainty”. They were referring to the personal God who takes an active interest in people’s lives, which is what they’ve been taught in their churches. (This is just something I overheard while passing them in the street, so I don’t know which church. But I picked this example to illustrate how common it is, even for an atheist, to hear this kind of thing.)
I have looked up Calvinists, if that’s who you mean by “the group of theists” in question. Their doctrines, such as “unconditional election”, refer (as best I can understand those things) to a personal God too, which is expected as a subgroup of Christians. They take the Bible to provide privileged access to God’s plan.
A personal God who takes an active interest in events in this world, as outlined in the Bible, does not meet your criteria for tolerance. It is a belief which has empirical consequences, such as the condemnation of homosexuality. It doesn’t matter how “benign” or “moderate” these inferences are; they show up “separate magisteria” as a pretence.
I was responding to the idea that theists are involved in blatant double-think where they anticipate ways that their beliefs can be empirically refuted and find preemptive defenses. The idea of “separate magisteria” may have been one such defense, but it is the last: once they identify God as non-empirical they don’t have to worry about CO2 detectors or flour or X-ray machines—ever. I think that the continued insistence on thinking of God as a creature hidden in the garage that should leave some kind of empirical trace reveals the inferential distance between a world view which requires that beliefs meet empirical standards and one that does not.
You suggest that the “separate magisteria” is a pretense. This appears to be along the lines of what Eliezer is arguing as well; that it is a convenient ‘get out of jail free’ card. I think this is an interesting hypothesis—I don’t object to it, since it makes some sense.
We base our views about religion on our personal experiences with it. I feel like I encounter people with views much more reasonable than the ones described here fairly often. I thought that ‘separate magesteria’ described their thinking pretty well, since religion doesn’t effect their pragmatic, day-to-day decisions. (Moral/ethical behavior is a big exception of course.) I’ve encountered people who insist that prayers have the power to change events, but I don’t think this is a reasonable view.
I thought people mostly prayed to focus intentions and unload anxiety. Some data on what people actually believe would be extremely useful.
I polled some theist friends who happened to be online, asking “What do you think the useful effects of prayer are, on you, the subject on which you pray, or anything else?” and followup questions to get clarification/elaboration.
Episcopalian: “The most concrete effect of prayer is to help me calm down about stressful situations. The subject is generally not directly affected. It is my outlook that is most often changed. Psychologically, it helps me to let go of the cause of stress. It’s like a spiritual form of delegation.”
Irish Catholic With Jesuit Tendencies: “The Ignation spirituality system has a lot to do with using prayer to focus and distance yourself from the emotions and petty concerns surrounding the problem. Through detatched analysis, one can gain better perspective on the correct choice. … Well, ostensibly, it’s akin to meditation, and other forms of calming reflection possible in other religions. For me, though, I tend to pray, a) in times of crisis, b) in Mass, and c) for other people who I think can use whatever karmic juju my clicking of proverbial chicken lips can muster.” (On being asked whether the “karmic juju” affects the people prayed for:) “It’s one of those things. “I think I can, I think I can.”″ (I said: “So it helps you help them?”) “I guess. Often, there’s little else you can do for folks.”
Mormon: “Well, I think it depends on the need of the person involved and the ability of that person to take care of him/herself. I have heard stories from people I trust where miraculous things have occured as the result of prayer. But I find that, for me personally, prayer gives me comfort, courage, and sometimes, through prayer, my thoughts are oriented in ways that allow me to see a problem from an angle I couldn’t before and therefore solve it. Is it beneficial? Yes. Is it divine intervention? Hard to say. Even if it’s just someone feeling more positive as a result of a prayer, I think it’s a benefit—particularly for the sick. Positive attitudes seem to help a lot there.”
So it looks like byrnema is right!
(All quotes taken with permission)
Even better, a study. (Upshot: Praying for someone has a significant effect on the praying individual’s inclination to be selfless and forgiving toward that person.)
Thank you, Alicorn. It’s very helpful to have any data. Even data from people that are educated and comfortable with atheism, like myself, is better than atheists just speculating about what theists think.
This was a sample of friends of an atheistic philosopher who were answering a question by that same philosopher. The sample, unfortunately, tells me almost nothing about the general population.
Believing in a specific God (who, for example, promises to answer prayers) is an unreasonable view. Believing in the same God but also believing that prayers are unable to change events is even more unreasonable. It’s just more practical.
I’d like to clarify that I’ve not stuck my neck out that any beliefs are reasonable. I said I often encounter beliefs that seem much more reasonable.
Even more? Why?
Roughly speaking:
p(A) = 0.0001
p(A && !A) = 0