Irreligious - redefining Christianity and religion.

Is objective truth possible without God?

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Sat, 13 Aug 2011 20:05:00 +0000

A lengthy debate with a friend on Google+ led me to this question: Is objective truth possible without God? The most commonsense answer would be yes. For instance, I can be atheist or agnostic and know that 1+1=2. But is that really the case.

Before we proceed, let's get a couple of things out of the way first. First, we cannot deny that there is an objective truth. A postmodernist who says there is no truth is contradicting himself because saying that "there's no truth" is itself proclaiming a truth. So he has refuted himself.

But can we say that objective truth exists, just that we have no access to it? This argument is itself unsubstantiated and flat out wrong. We know that 1+1=2 is correct, and there's no way to refute it. So clearly, we have access to objective truth.

Second, I am defining God rather broadly: He or She may be deist or theist, Yahweh, Jesus or Allah, it doesn't matter really. The crucial bit is the this God is the ultimate Creator and Enforcer of truth.

Okay, now for the main course: I think it's logically incoherent for you to be agnostic about God and yet believe that truth exists. If you don't know if God exists, that would also mean you are unsure about atheism, metaphysical materialism, or any of the other religious beliefs. If that's the case, then it would follow that you have no idea how likely it is that a certain truth statement is accurate, since you're not sure if a Divine Referee exists.

And if you're not sure whether you're own truth statements can be trusted, then there's no reason to believe agnosticism too, since that itself is a truth statement.

Let me rephrase: If you believe God exists, and that this God created and enforced truth, then you would be 100 percent assured that you can hold on to true beliefs. If not, you really have no idea if your notion of truth is accurate, and hence you can't take your own agnosticism seriously.

If we put it this way, it would seem like even atheism is in trouble. If there is no God to create truth, then on what grounds do atheists have to believe in the existence of truth or that their beliefs are true? There are none. Atheism runs into other problems too, which I've highlighted here.

So it seems like truth and God are somehow intertwined. If we believe in truth, then we have to believe that there is some sort of entity to create and enforce the notion of truth. Hence a belief in God follows a belief in the existence of truth.

Anyway, these are just some preliminary thoughts I have. I'm pretty sure a smart guy or gal out there can decouple God and truth. Any takers?

Do we need evidence to believe in God?

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Mon, 27 Jun 2011 16:15:00 +0000

Human society as we know it today worships a new religion -- an unwavering faith that science is the most rock-solid, the most certain, the most truthworthy of all human knowledge.

While some of this faith is certainly not misplaced -- after all, without science, I wouldn't be sitting down typing this. I may not even be alive: Perhaps in an alternate world I would have succumbed to a killer disease as a child since I have no access to medical intervention.

But some scientists -- Richard Dawkins chief amongst them -- think science and its presumptions can be applied to all realms of human knowledge, and that includes morality and philosophy. Instead of merely adopting an assumption of metaphysical naturalism -- a worldview where there is no such thing as the supernatural, many atheists take metaphysical naturalism as the de facto truth.

In a previous blog post, I questioned this assumption, and said that if there is no evidence for the lack of the supernatural realm, we can at most be agnostic -- as opposed to atheistic -- about the supernatural.

Now, I want to question other assumptions made by many scientists and atheists alike. Let's start with evidentialism -- the idea that in order for a belief to be true, it must be justified with sufficient evidence.

While evidentialism certainly does apply to many things, such as deductive beliefs like 10x20=200, which is derived from from more basic beliefs like 1x2=2 and 10x10=100, there are many beliefs which we hold dear to and think are obviously true that we can't show any evidence for.

Take for instance the belief from memory that I had coffee at a nearby Starbucks restaurant this morning. You might go, "Aha! Why can't you just go to the cafe I went to this morning and ask the staff if I indeed had coffee then?"

It's not as simple as you think. Suppose that I did go to the cafe, but none of the staff seems to remember I was there this morning -- which is quite plausible. Suppose also that none of my friends or family members knew -- they were all sound asleep, and I did not check into Foursquare. My iPhone battery had died.

Easy, check your wallet, you may say. But the frustrating thing is, I cannot remember how much was in my wallet before, so there is no other reliable evidence that I did go to Starbucks.

But isn't it absurd for us to question our memories this way? After all, I am frequently right about my memories. But by saying that your particular memory is accurate because, generally, your memories tend to be true, that is a circular argument. Even if we collect a sample size of 1,000 memories (where no external corroborating evidence is available) and claim that 90 percent of them are true, it does nothing for us.

This example demonstrates a major dispute with evidentialism.

We quite often lack sufficient evidence to justify our beliefs, yet we think they are true anyway. I take 'sufficient evidence', in this case, to mean that the evidence entails that belief or gives that belief a high probability of truth. Also, by 'sufficient', I also mean that there are no defeaters -- contrary evidence -- to dispute the truth of the belief.

So while there are some beliefs that have evidence, many of us, pragmatically speaking, have no access to them. And even in an ideal world where we have Wikipedia implanted into our brains, many of our beliefs are still far from sufficiently justified.

Which is why it is seemingly absurd for scientists and atheists alike to demand evidence for God when they themselves hold beliefs they have no proof for.

Why should the methodological rigour of scientific experimentation be applied to the question of God? And assuming that it ought to, then shouldn't evidentialism apply to everything else as well -- an absurd notion nonetheless?

At this point, the clever atheist well retort that this form of absolute evidentialism does not necessarily hold true. She may argue that some beliefs may be taken to be basic, such that no proof is needed for them to be true. Examples are rife: For instance, 1+1=2 is intuitively true. So are rules of logic; in fact, to question logic would be self-defeating: If we argue that logic is wrong, then we are questioning our ability to doubt logic itself.

Hence she adopts a philosophical position called classical foundationalism (CF). Eminent philosopher Alvin Plantinga renders the central premise this way:

"A person S is justified in accepting a belief p if and only if either (1) p is properly basic for S, that is self-evident, incorrigible, or Lockeanly evident to the senses for S, or (2) S believes p on the evidential basis of propositions that are properly basic and that evidentially support p deductively, inductively, or abductively."

Without venturing too much into technical details, let's envision our system of beliefs like a skyscraper: The top levels rely on the bottom ones for support, and this chain extends all the way down to the foundation of the building. The foundational beliefs we hold, if defeated, would result in a crumbling edifice.

These first-level beliefs are not easily disproved; in fact, it may be impossible to disprove them. Properties for these beliefs are laid out by Plantinga in the above definition.

However, CF has a big problem. It does not meet its own condition for valid belief: it's core premise is not properly basic in the sense of being self-evident, incorrigible, or evident to the senses. It is also impossible to prove the belief on the basis of earlier ones.

The atheist, therefore, is stuck.

Unless she can provide an adequate account of knowledge, the atheist has no basis to claim that a belief in God requires evidence or needs justification of any sort. Could it well be that a belief in God -- let's adopt the theist definition -- is properly basic?

Let's turn to a related criticism that atheists love to use against God-believers. Since theism isn't falsifiable, meaning it is impossible to disprove the notion that God exists (assuming the belief is false), the whole hypothesis should be disposed of.

But falsification runs into the same problems faced by evidentialism.

First, it would be impossible to argue that all beliefs must be falsifiable to be accepted as true. Again, I refer you to the example about drinking coffee at Starbucks this morning.

Clearly, this belief isn't falsifiable, especially if we've left no other indication (except our memory) to show it is true. Suppose that I suffered a car accident that caused brain damage, rendering that particular memory unreliable. How do I go about using that fact to disprove the belief that I did have coffee at Starbucks? We could go for a brain scan to determine if we have brain damage, but to go from that to proving that the specific belief we have is false is a stretch.

So, it is possible that there are some beliefs that are true, even though isn't falsifiable. Even if the belief (with only memory as evidence) that I had coffee at Starbucks is false, there's no way I can show it.

Second, why assume that falsification must apply with a belief in God, when we excuse ourselves from such stringent criteria when it comes to beliefs arising from memory and perception? Unless an explanation is offered, this is a case of blatant double standard.

At this point, I am not aiming to show that theism is true. Far from it. What I am showing is that atheists and their arguments against theism do not appear to stand up to their own stringent criteria for knowledge. I welcome any atheist to dispute me.

Why all religions are equal

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Tue, 31 May 2011 07:16:00 +0000

In a previous life, I was a stout crusader of Christianity.

Scratch that, what I mean is that I defended the sort of Christianity that was prosperity gospel-driven, that encouraged speaking-in-tongues-and-casting-out-demons-from-under-every-rock, and that coerced members into showering certain cult personalities with unabashed and over-the-top admiration and worship.

Now, having excused myself from that rabid form of religion, I have a more zen approach towards matters of faith. Basically, I think most religions are equal. Most. Which excludes violent extremists of all sorts, basically, any strand of religion that teaches a person to hate his brother or manipulate his sister.

My general view is that it is extremely difficult to usurp one religious view with another because the proof for either tends to be vague and shallow. So did Christ rise from the dead? Dunno. Do people really reincarnate after they die? I have no idea. Do spells and enchantments really work? Beats me.

And yes, I consider atheism (now manifesting itself as the more fashionable 'humanism') another religion too, in the broadest sense. Let me explain.

One key difference between humanism and a religion like Christianity and Islam is their view on the supernatural. Humanists, in general, deny the supernatural and hence any notion of God and heaven (with its multitude of virgins awaiting terrorist martyrs). They deny hell too. Christians, on the other hand, believe a grand mansion awaits them in heaven, filled with the best creature comforts Jesus can buy. And for everyone else stupid enough to deny Christ, hell awaits you.

I don't really care if whether someone believes in the supernatural or not, as long as they keep it nothing more than a belief. And just to be clear, a belief is, very simply, a stance or assertion that is made without sufficient (or absence of) evidence.

Which is why humanism is also a religion -- or a mere collection of beliefs -- although I think many humanists themselves would deny that. I would argue that their belief in the lack of the supernatural is just slightly above wishful thinking, just like how Christians who believe in heaven often claim they exist but show no proof for it.

So, why do humanists say that the supernatural doesn't exist? Let me take a stab at this: Since no convincing evidence is available to prove that the supernatural does exist, it is reasonable to assume that it doesn't, until someone proves otherwise.

That itself is an unreasonable claim.

A belief constitutes knowledge only if it is justified true belief. Justified, in the sense that one fulfills his epistemic duty by providing sufficient evidence to back up his belief. True, in the sense that mere justification is not enough, knowledge must be true whether evidence for it is available to a person or not.

Therefore, a belief that the supernatural exists requires proof. A belief that the supernatural does not exist also requires proof. And since humanists cannot sufficiently justify that the supernatural doesn't exist, then the belief that the supernatural doesn't exist does not constitute knowledge.

Christians and humanists alike can only stab in the dark and make wild claims. Scientists like Hawkings and Dawkins (wow, they rhyme) play-act the role of philosopher-kings, but in making wild proclamations about metaphysics, they appear gormless instead.

In fact, I would venture even further to say that the whole enterprise of pursuing knowledge betrays our ignorance at how little we know about the world. Consider my claim that knowledge is 'justified true belief'. Justification can come in two forms: a priori, which is the faculty of reason, and a posteriori, the faculty of empirical observation through our five senses.

Both can be demonstrated to be unreliable.

Suppose we see what appears to be a spanking new red car in front of us. How do we really know we are seeing what we think we are seeing? Could it be that it is an old car that was spruced up to look as good as new? Could it be that only the red coat of paint is new, and the car was in fact originally blue?

In fact, why even suppose that we are seeing a car? Why suppose we are living in reality as we know it? Could we be living in a dream, like in the movie Inception? Could it be that we are living in a world constructed of programming language, like in the Matrix? Could it be that we are suffering from some sort of hallucination or brain damage, conjured up by a malevolent demon?

How do we suppose one scenario is more likely than the other, if that is even possible? The certainty of empirical observation as a means of making metaphysical claims is thus debunked.

Reason seems like a sure bedrock of our knowledge. But so far, I've yet to see a solid argument that successfully disproves the existence of God or the supernatural, perhaps because even the notion of what these concepts are feels so slippery and vague.

So you see, while reason and empirical observation are certainly useful everyday tools, they are blunt instruments that serve little purpose in our quest for the truth about the supernatural. Religions, at the end of the day, are based upon systems of beliefs that cannot be solidly proven.

While humanists may mock the Speghetti Monster that lesser mortals worship, they themselves are worshipping an empty altar, an Invisible Monster if you may. And the worst thing about an Invisible Monster is that they don't even know when they are worshipping it.

Are Christians addicted to certainty?

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Fri, 22 Apr 2011 04:16:00 +0000

Here's one common refrain I've heard from many of my devoted, church-going, Christian friends: "Life is simple. Why make it so complicated?"

I wish it was that simple. I wish we live in a world of no contradictions, no problems, and no uncertainties. But the kicker is: The more I search, the more I realise how contradictory, problem-filled, and uncertain the world is. It's an inescapable observation. It's not something I want, but it's something that dawned on me.

Just like how light hits you when the sun rises.

People who hold simple thoughts about life (or to be more precise, their religious worldview) probably do so for a few reasons:

1) They don't question much. They accept what is said at face value easily. This usually applies to kids and teenagers (I know, because I've been through that phase).

2) They question, but because they don't like what they find, they sink back into their comfortable shell.

3) They question, but because they acknowledge that there are no legitimate answers, go back to what they know.

4) They question, but because of peer pressure from the Christian community and the fear of losing one's religious routine, they return to their old beliefs.

It seems that we are preoccupied with certainty. Addicted even. We cling to what we know, because dislodging our old beliefs is too troublesome, too disruptive. We may even lose friends. Just ask Rob Bell: Many prominent US Evangelical Christian community leaders condemned him just because he raised questions about hell.

Staying in one's comfort zone is certainly the easier thing to do. But it may not necessarily be the right one.

So why this preoccupation with certainty? There are a few reasons I can think of:

1) We are biologically able and socialised to desire certainty and create meaning. Religion exists for a reason: To give answers where none can be found, to make meaning out of a seemingly meaningless existence. The same can be said for the intellectual pursuit of science, philosophy, and the arts. Politics and activism are also meaning-generating activities.

2) We are conditioned by postmodern society to seek fast answers. What do I mean?

a) Postmodern society is globalised. In globalisation, tradition is displaced, and foreigners come in to invade our land. Which is why the debate about foreign workers is hot, hot, hot this elections. With globalisation, things change in the blink of an eye. Economic recessions come when we least expect it. Pluralism and multiculturalism is the new reality. Faced with this uncertainty, we cling to Christian fundamentalism as a form of insurance. Believe the Bible and everything it says, and you're on your way to heaven. Never mind if your interpretation may be flawed.

b) Postmodern society is fast. Want an answer? Google. Hungry? Hit the microwave oven. Lonely? Call your friend. Want to check movie timings? There's an app for that. We want answers instantly, and in most cases, they are readily available. But have we been conditioned to have unrealistic expectations seeking answers that cannot be found? Granted, simplistic thinking has existed for centuries, but perhaps our modern condition can sometimes reinforce them.

3) We are too busy. In Singapore, people work long hours, walk at a fast pace. In the banking industry, due to the round-the-clock nature of the economy, bankers have to slog it out the whole day. In journalism, reporters chase after breaking news, and spend plenty of effort packaging them. Because journalists are so busy, it keeps the public relations people busy too.

Couple that with rising cost of living and a globalised economy where we compete not just with Singaporeans but people around the world, we really have little time for much else. For some, they have no choice, given their lack of education. For others, their material goals hook them by the nose, putting them in a mindless rat race.

Church, which is supposed to provide refuge from all that, can become a trap. We become too busy with ministry, leaving little time for reflection. We become minions of the church, nothing more.

_______________________

So what is it about "life is simple" again?

Simple thinking can be the result of personal circumstances and choices. But it is also a product of macro societal forces, which affect us in ways we cannot detect, unless we take the effort to take a step back from our usual routine.

Are Christians addicted to certainty then? Some are, for sure. But I guess "addicted" would be too strong a word to use for many Christians. Everyone needs certainty, but it's really a matter of degree. And we all need certainty in different things.

For me, I can accept the fact that there are no certain answers to eternal questions, and I don't live my life pretending I know them. Faith to me is inherently uncertain, and attempts by pastors and church leaders to dress it up and put all sorts of nonsense theology on it is just futile (not to say all theology is useless). I don't need all that pentecostal, evangelical mumbo-jumbo.

And I'm happy that way.

Are Christians an intolerant bunch?

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Sat, 09 Apr 2011 03:04:00 +0000

I haven't blogged here for awhile, but something provoked me to do so. Recently, Rob Bell, a pastor from Mars Hill Bible Church in the US, received vehement criticism from many prominent theologians and pastors for preaching universalism (the belief that everyone will go to heaven) in his new book 'Love Wins'.

Some even went as far as to call him a 'heretic'.

Now, I haven't read his book, and to be honest, I have no interest in the debate about heaven or hell or whether they exist. But this firestorm reminds me of a reason why Christianity can sometimes be so repulsive to me. I haven't been going to church a lot these days, because to be honest, they are nothing more than communities to me.

Except that instead of centering around a political affiliation or an interest like anime or BDSM, church communities revolve around a set of religious beliefs.

And sometimes, these Christians can be really nazi about their beliefs. Although I seldom listen to Rob Bell nowadays, or any pastor for that matter, he comes across as a breath of fresh air. He displays a willingness to question and deal with the implications of his inquiries. He doesn't come across as a questioner who's merely looking for ways to reinforce old beliefs.

Which is what many Christians do.

Now, Rob Bell is someone I can respect. He's both a doer and a thinker. Back home in Singapore, there's another clergyman I respect: Reverend Yap Kim Hao and his church: The gay-affirming Free Community Church. The existence of Free Community Church is evidence of the intolerance that the churches in Singapore have towards homosexuals.

The phrase "Love the sinner but hate the sin" has become an excuse to force homosexuals into a peg that doesn't fit them. A particular church, Church of our Saviour had a programme to "reform" gays and turn them straight using outdated Freudian methods and outmoded ideas about what masculinity is.

And I believe in City Harvest Church, there is a similar intention too, although their programme is probably much less structured and formal.

Which is why of all the churches in Singapore, Free Community Church is a community I respect. They are a people that are open about their doubts, and relentless about questioning their beliefs. Although their sermons are sometimes really heavy, they don't just preach, they do, reaching out to sex workers and people with AIDS.

City Harvest, on the other hand, comes across as a church that does too much and thinks too little. Kong Hee isn't much of a thinker, despite being from Raffles Institution and having many so-called honorary degrees, which looks good in your CV but doesn't really mean much. He comes across as a pretender, trying to look cool and sophisticated in appearance, but in actual fact, has very rigid views about the world in general.

He passes his DNA to the entire church, effectively making the members mini Kong Hees. It's not so much about Jesus, but rather, the conservative, capitalistic, Kong Hee kind of Jesus.

A lot of the members and staff who dare to question the church and its beliefs and methods have left. And rightly so. Because if you're not prepared to be a mini-Kong Hee, you won't thrive in that place. But if you're a conformist, City Harvest is for you. And that is a way of breeding intolerance too, by forcing people who are different out.

So at the end of the day, I don't think all Christians are intolerant. Far from it. But I think all of us are intolerant in some ways, in certain circumstances and situations. It's up to us to curb our intolerant nature and promote open-mindedness, understanding, and mutual love.

So Rob Bell is right in a sense: It's less important what you believe in, and whether you will end up in heaven or hell. Love wins after all.

What we all have in common with Islamic extremists

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Thu, 10 Feb 2011 16:54:00 +0000

There is something disturbing about Christians who believe in their God with such unyielding zeal. Let me emphasise that there is a difference between 'knowing' and 'believing'. To know is to be extremely sure and confident about something; to believe, for the purposes of this reflection, requires no evidence whatsoever.

It is the fruit of hope and faith.

President Obama doesn't know that he will be a leader that will stand the test of time, yet I'm sure he believes it, and hopes he will become a historic president.

Likewise, a religious person doesn't know God; he believes in God.

Christians will protest at this point; especially happy-clappy Charismatic Christians, they will claim they have seen and heard God. More esoteric ones will speak of visions and dreams, actual encounters with angels, and the like. So why do you believe that your vision is of God and your Muslim brother's of the devil?

Charismatics do not have the monopoly on spiritual encounters, that's for sure.

Even Christians who think they 'know' God must admit something: They can't know God the way they know they are perceiving; or the fact that they exist. Philosphical skeptics, who have the strictest criterion for truth, would not doubt that the mind exists.

But God? That is another story.

Our intellect can only take us so far. We all need to rely on faith. Every supposition appears to have its roots in intuition, even the staunchest atheists or humanists.

It seems like all of us have something in common with even the most extreme religious fundamentalists: We all have faith in something. We all hold on to beliefs we cannot prove or justify, but we act as if they are rock-solid truth.

The only difference is what we believe in. That is the spooky bit. Wars are fought over faith. Enemies are made out of ideological differences that seem normative but really isn't. Churches and personality cults are built on the illusion that they hold the ultimate truth.

At the end of the day, we live in a world built on ideas. Ideas about the world, about ourselves, about society.

Ideas outlive the individuals and social undercurrents that fed them. Ideas take on a life of its own, spreading from person to person, over the Internet, and all around the world. Ideas shift and morph, they combine with other ideas to form new ones. Even Hegelian or Marxist philosophy, which have differing views about ideas, are ideas in themselves.

Ideas, very simply, is the staple of intellectual thought.

God is an idea.

Religious folks may protest at this point. They think that just because God is an idea, it is somehow less real. I beg to differ. Ideas are powerful. Empires rise and fall on ideas. We sit on the brink of environmental disaster because of the idea of relentless economic progress.

God is an idea, a very powerful one. Your definition of God (and of many other things) could determine your take on religion, and separate a religious fundamentalist from a moderate believer.

I consider myself some sort of Christian, but I've given up on affixing additional labels on myself. But I know that I am content with believing that God is an idea. And because of this, I am prepared to accept that religious belief is inherently self-contradictory and pluralistic. The Bible is open to interpretation. New movements form out of religious sects all the time.

Christianity is always evolving, and it will continue to evolve. Yet many Christians seem to ignore that, because they are uncomfortable with the idea that what they believe in could be built on sand. Well, it's about time somebody make life uncomfortable for them.

And if merely communicating what I believe in can do that, so be it.

Atheism: The Art of Not-Giving-A-Shit

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Mon, 10 Jan 2011 01:36:00 +0000

“Every man born unto this Earth is a sinner!”, the man exclaimed. “If you do not believe in Jesus, then you are a walking corpse!”

By Chin Wei Lien

I WAS called a “walking corpse” by a complete stranger in the winter of 2009 in Buffalo, New York. Granted, I was a sleep deprived communications major at that point of time. But I didn’t think he was referring to my heavy eyebags or my… student attire.

“Every man born unto this Earth is a sinner!”, the man exclaimed. “If you do not believe in Jesus, then you are a walking corpse!”

The man was a pastor from a local community church, and he was directing the insult not personally at me for my lack of religious beliefs, but also to everyone in the vicinity who didn’t subscribe to his, apparently, non-zombie faith.

Like many historical leaders in old photographs and paintings, the man stood taller and spoke louder than the crowd of college students beneath his feet. Silhouette painted black forbodingly outside the Student Union, the man was perched on top of a tiny foldable stool and looked bigger and more authoritative than his booming voice...

Read full article on New Nation.

Grace and judgment

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Fri, 31 Dec 2010 05:47:00 +0000

Recently, I've begun following Mars Hill Bible Church's series on the Kingdom of God. It's very illuminating and highly recommended.

Some of the main points highlighted include the presentness of the Kingdom of God, how it is inside all of us, and how grace and judgment exist within the Kingdom.

In New Creation Church, much emphasis is placed on rest and grace, and indeed, there are times where God wants us to take it easy and enjoy the ride.

But the Bible has also emphasised judgment, or the critiquing of one's good works. In the parable of the ten virgins, Jesus seems to be asking: "What are you doing? What are you thinking?"

Very unlike the image of the gentle Jesus meandering beside a flock of sheep.

In the end, we see how five of the virgins were left out of the wedding banquet for their unpreparedness. Apparently, in Jewish wedding custom, it's not okay to be late for a wedding banquet.

I haven't quite finished the series, but I'm hoping Shane Hipps and Rob Bell will address this tension between grace and judgment. Where does grace end and judgment begin? Although Rob makes a good point that Jesus seems to be including everyone within the Kingdom of God, he has not expounded on the tension.

If we are speaking of a kingdom in the now, characterised by an experiential joy and peace that can be felt even in the midst of tough times, perhaps exclusion can be described as a temporary state at best, reclaimable once we get our act right, so to speak.

But the parable of the ten virgins seem to suggest something different: There can only be one wedding ceremony between the bride and groom, and once you miss it, there is no second chance.

Perhaps this speaks of the mortality of our lives, that our chances of experiencing the Kingdom of God are as numbered as our days. Personally, I do not know if there is an afterlife. Though I hold up the faith that there is one, we can't know for sure.

Therefore, the only thing I can know for certain is to live out the Kingdom of God today and experience indescribable joy and peace. That, I guess, is a life truly worth living.

The only way to move on is to distract yourself

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Thu, 23 Dec 2010 16:44:00 +0000

There was a period of time where I would blog here once every two days. I felt cloistered and trapped, battling an ideology I couldn't agree using the only method I know: Writing.

The enemy was watered-down Disneyland Christianity, devoid of logic and common sense. It was a religion that thrived on ignorance; the belief that young Christians should be kept innocent to bad influences until they are "spiritually ready". There was no transparency and accountability.

"Let sleeping dogs lie" is a phrase that best describes their approach, and I absolutely hated the system. It was a form of fake sophistry: Fashionable and cool on the outside, but shallow on the inside.

For months, I protested against it, but I soon realise how futile that was. So I left.

But I began to understand that to truly move on, I need to find a new cause, a new Raison d'être. At first, I thought my answers laid in academia. But the prospect of mining through dry philosophical text frightened me. I don't have the patience, and I am restless by nature. Perhaps when I'm older and more wizened.

So I thought, what do I want to do when I graduate?

That was how New Nation was born.

I gathered a couple of like-minded people, and we asked ourselves: If we could do journalism the way we want to, what would be the end result? New Nation is a step in that direction. I want it to be brash and bold, yet sophisticated and self-deprecating.

New Nation is journalism for young people, by a community of young journalists with a fresh vision of how things should be done. Passion drives us more than money, although financial sustainability is definitely our goal.

We are going into uncharted territory. Online journalism is virgin land, not unlike the Americas during colonial times. We are the adventurers setting foot in strange lands. Will New Nation succeed? The odds are stacked.

But for me, it doesn't matter. I take failure as just another lesson in life. Better to go all out and try to do something groundbreaking than not do it at all. At least I'll have stories to tell.

Oh, and if you have not, do check out our Facebook page and "like" it. We need all the support we can get.

Epistemology and god: The question of theism (2)

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Mon, 20 Dec 2010 00:53:00 +0000

"Epistemology and god" is an ongoing series of essays on the theory of knowledge and how it relates to god. If you are new to this series, I highly recommend that you start from the first essay, unless you are philosophically trained. A web page containing all the essays in this series can be viewed here.

At the very least then, it appears that we need at least rational belief to know that God exists. By “rational”, I mean a belief that has some justification and not absolute justification. But to hold justified belief, we would then need to possess positive arguments for the existence of God. Such arguments can either be in the form of inductive or deductive inferential chains, or they can be direct knowledge based on a basic source like perception, introspection, or reason.

We will discuss each type in turn.

Inferential beliefs for God

Inferential beliefs for God can be either deductive or inductive; sometimes containing elements of both. The ontological argument could be deductive for instance, since it concerns mainly debates about the nature of God and whether these definitions stand up to scrutiny. Such deductive arguments, however, could be challenged inductively, for instance by the problem of evil.

The teleological argument can be considered an inductive argument. It starts with observations about certain facets of the universe, and then proceeds to explain how natural process cannot account for these characteristics, and finally concluding that God is the best explanation for these properties about the universe. Given that such an argument is making observations about the known universe (and I emphasise known), it is only valid by degrees.

Lastly, we may consider the cosmological argument one that contains both inductive and deductive elements. It starts off with a premise about the nature of the universe (such as how it contains motion), which is perhaps derived inductively. However, when we use the premise to argue that the universe needs a prime mover, we resort to deductive reasoning.

Direct theistic belief

Other theists, on the other hand, will try to argue that knowledge about God can be derived directly without inference. One way to argue for this is to resort to experientialism, which says that we can know God directly through experience. Advocates of such an argument will usually claim that either God is speaking to them directly, or that they have experienced an encounter with the divine, or perhaps that they see God in Nature.

Their line of reasoning, however, needs to address serious questions, such as explaining how exactly can a person see God in nature; how he can know for certain the characteristics of God through means beyond observing nature; and how can a person be sure what he knows is direct belief and not indirect belief? The second and third questions are somewhat related, in that we need to distinguish between knowing God directly and knowing God by first understanding his characteristics, and then applying it to observations of nature, which is an inferential process.

Theists may also want to consider the role of testimony in belief. Many religious beliefs, such as those contained in the Bible, are a form of direct belief, and certainly many believers accept these beliefs without raising questions about its premises. In such cases, theists should ask how truthful testimonial beliefs can be when applied to religion.

Strong religious belief

It appears that, on the surface at least, there is plenty of justification available for a belief in God. The ones I have highlighted are just some of the examples – we have not even considered the historical personages and events argument, the moral argument, and many others. Given the apparent variety of justifications available, it is not surprising that many individuals do believe in a god – even not a theist one.

My postulation is that many believers hold to what is called a coherentist view of God, where their belief in God is justified on the basis of its coherence with other propositions within their web of belief. It is easy to justify a belief in God using coherentism, although such justification can be problematic. This is because it is easy for an atheist, for instance, to hold a coherentist view of atheism, an agnostic to hold a coherentist view of agnosticism, and so on.

Without examining the foundationalist roots of religious belief, it may be said that an individual’s belief in God has weak justification. Therefore, in order to obtain stronger justification for a belief in God (or against God), it is necessary to investigate the premises of such a belief, right down to its foundational roots. A positive belief in God must be compared with rival beliefs to determine which has the strongest justification.

Is knowledge about or against God possible?

Despite the multitude of arguments that have been postulated both for and against God, it is possible that we might find ourselves in a situation where knowledge of God is beyond our reach. Perhaps we may find that both theist and atheist arguments do not give each side the upper hand, giving us no choice but to adopt an agnostic position. The result is that we merely possess justified belief about God, but we cannot ascertain if this belief should constitute knowledge.

We should then compare knowledge in religion with scientific and moral knowledge and see if the other domains face a similar problem. We should also determine how large a role testimony plays in all three domains of knowledge. Perhaps we might come to a conclusion that belief about God is merely justified belief – we do not know for certain if God is real, but since it is possible that He does, we presume that He exists.

At this point, atheists might counter that since knowledge about God is impossible, then it might be best to just conclude prima facie that God does not exist. This sounds like a logical position, but in order to assume it, we must first rebut all positive arguments for God.

The material for this series of essays will be drawn mainly from Epistemology: A Contemporary Introduction to the Theory of Knowledge by Robert Audi, an American philosopher well known for his works on epistemology and ethics, as well as the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, a great (and free) online resource on philosophy.

Who am I, and what do I need to be?

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Mon, 13 Dec 2010 17:59:00 +0000

It's been a while since I've blogged. So it is strange that I'm writing an entry, of all times, right in the middle of my examinations. I find myself trapped in a vortex, between who I am and who I want to be. I find myself transitioning between different roles, and I find the shift difficult.

Spiritually, I've moved on. I'm no longer intense about religiousity and church. I'm no longer mad at the system, although I still have a firm idea on what church ought to be like. I thinking getting out of that system is a mode of release for me: I no longer feel as cloistered or trapped.

The downside, of course, is that you see life with more complex lens. Values are malleable, and you find what you hold dear to in the past is in fact built on sand. Many things are. But life still goes on.

What do I stand for? What values do I represent? I find it difficult to communicate them, though I do have some semblence of an answer: love, respect, integrity, authenticity, and discipline. Living up to them is, of course, my greatest challenge: Something I want to improve on.

I honestly need to do some soul-searching.

What kind of life is one worth living? It sure doesn't help to live up to the expectations of others. I find that once people perceive you a certain way, it's hard to shake it off. In school, I am known as The Terence. Attach whatever descriptions you want, but I can't really bring myself to say them out loud: I don't think I live up to them.

The Terence I know is tremendously flawed. Lacks confidence at times. Generally insecure, not always honest, even deceitful. But I do know my upsides, and I work to improve my weaknesses. I'm no abject failure, that I know.

To be honest, I have moved beyond just living up to the expectations of others. That was me. Now, I'm more concerned about living up to my own expectations, defining my own roles, determining what traits are necessary for these roles, and honing these traits.

And boy, do I have my work cut out for me.

Epistemology and god: The question of a theism (1)

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Mon, 13 Dec 2010 00:52:00 +0000

Just what is the philosophical definition of a theistic God? According to Charles Taliaferro in his introduction to the philosophy of religion, a theistic God (henceforth referred to as “God”) possesses some or all of the following characteristics: Necessary or non-contingent existence, incorporeality, omnipotence, essential goodness, omniscience, and eternal existence.

The scope of this essay does not cover the definition and critique of these terms. What I will try to do instead is to see how epistemological insights can weigh in with regards to a debate about the existence of God.

One obvious characteristic that stands out from this debate is that fact that there are so many ways to construct an argument for God, and subsequently all of them can be refuted to a degree by skeptics. It is then necessary to define how ambitious one’s argument for God is, and how much a claim for truth one dares to make.

Faith in God

On the least ambitious level, an individual can claim that the belief that God exists is a matter of acceptance and faith. That is, “I believe God exists because I do not sufficiently doubt Him.” Such an argument would “only” need to refute the atheists’ (or deist, pantheist, agnostic, and others) counter-arguments against God in order to stand. One prominent argument would be the “problem of evil”, which states that a good, omnipotent God does not exist because evil exists on Earth.

How a theist can go about refuting counter-arguments against God deserves additional explanation. First of all, a theist can choose to adopt a skeptical stance against counter-arguments. Such an argument would claim that anti-God arguments are unable to provide conclusive justification that God does not exist. And since doubt remain, the belief that God does not exist cannot constitute knowledge.

But what level of skepticism does the theist want to hold? If he is prepared to accept that only self-evident a priori and introspective beliefs can count as knowledge, then no external knowledge is possible, not even scientific claims. Moral claims can still be acceptable if one holds Kantian ethics as an accurate description of morality, since it is an a priori argument. However, we have learnt that skepticism as a whole stands on shaky grounds, and unless positive proof can be identified for showing that knowledge must be infallible, we are inclined to reject it.

Secondly, a theist can decide that anti-God arguments are based on false premises. This line of reasoning assumes that anti-God arguments are inferential beliefs transmitted either deductively or inductively. Since deductive reasoning applies to both a priori and a posteriori arguments against God, disproving deductive premises will also disprove purely a priori anti-God arguments while crippling a posteriori ones.

Sample a priori and a posteriori anti-God arguments

An example of an a prori anti-God argument would be the famous “can God create a rock so heavy he can't lift it?” question. This argument attempts to prove that the concept of omnipotence is self-contradictory. But as long as I can show how the premise that “omnipotence entails that God can do something against His nature” is false, the whole argument falls apart.

The problem of evil can perhaps be considered a partial a posterori argument against God. It is a posteriori because the argument has the premise that “my experience tells me evil exists in the world”. However, also has a premise that is analytic a priori, which states that “God does not allow evil to happen in the world.”

Again, I can attempt to show how the existence of a good God does not contradict the occurrence of evil (perhaps through Alvin Plantinga's free will defense or by showing how suffering produces good). But while this may weaken the argument, it may not be disproved outright. This is because the argument’s a posteriori premise may have been derived through an inductive inferential chain, which actually gives the entire argument a probabilistic chance of becoming valid or invalid.

And thirdly, a theist can attempt to show that alternative propositions exist which contradict and render false the arguments against God. However, this line of attack would also mean that the theist must be able to come up with positive arguments for the existence of God, because these arguments would contradict anti-God arguments. Again, we may try to introduce skepticism, but they are useful only when proven.

But this may be a positive thing. A theist would rightly question the usefulness of simply accepting that God exists. This is because scientific knowledge and moral knowledge appears defensible through a priori and a posteriori means. And if they are provable, we would need to place them above religious knowledge in terms of validity, which clearly puts theism in a compromising position. In order to convincingly argue their case, theists must provide positive arguments favouring the existence of God. This is a position known as “evidentialism about theistic knowledge”.

Who needs justification?

Then again, certain theists may counter by saying that justification is unnecessary for knowledge about God. And this is certainly possible: After all, we have demonstrated how kids or idiot savants LINK are apparently able to recall knowledge without possessing any justification. And even if justification is required, in many cases we have seen that individuals can possess knowledge even though they have very little justification for their belief.

If that is the case, why do we need sufficient justification to say that we possess the knowledge that God exists? Perhaps even acceptance or faith would be sufficient. But such a claim can be abused: We could simply say there is a teapot in Jupiter because justification is not necessary to prove it. Unless there is absolute certainty that every inch of Jupiter has been scanned, I am right in making that claim. Any and all absurd claims can easily be taken to be true.

Therefore, it is apparent that a belief must at least require some kind of positive justification in order to constitute knowledge. It is not that knowledge needs justification to be true; rather, we need justification in order to accept a belief as knowledge. But we still do not know what amount of justification is sufficient in order to make a claim of knowledge. Surely conclusive justification would be out, because if that is so then nothing can be knowledge.

Coming back to the arguments for God, if it can be demonstrated that such a belief has a higher chance of being justified than, say, believing that a teapot is in Jupiter (and a whole host of other absurd arguments), then we would go a long way to demonstrating that perhaps God exists.
We continue the discussion in the next essay.

The material for this series of essays will be drawn mainly from Epistemology: A Contemporary Introduction to the Theory of Knowledge by Robert Audi, an American philosopher well known for his works on epistemology and ethics, as well as the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, a great (and free) online resource on philosophy.

Epistemology and god: A tentative account of knowledge (4)

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Mon, 06 Dec 2010 00:51:00 +0000

In this essay, we will talk about the two remaining knowledge extenders – memory and testimony. We will also discuss some finer points regarding a tentative account of knowledge.

While inference creates new beliefs through the extension of a priori and a posteriori beliefs that are ultimately rooted in experience and reason, memory and testimony do not generate new beliefs, at least not deliberately. Rather, memory preserves belief, while testimony transmits them socially.

Memory and testimony

Memory plays an important role in preserving beliefs that are crucial for inferential chains, since it allows an individual to recall large chunks of propositions. It acts as a support structure for much of our beliefs.

However, unless you are extremely gifted, memory is fallible. Like perception, memory is especially susceptible to illusion or hallucinations. It is easy to forget information or misremember them. This is why we often resort to virtual knowledge as a way of keeping track of what we remember. Such knowledge is recorded down without being possessed by an actual person in his or her mind. They exist in libraries and on the Internet, instantly accessible to individuals who want to retrieve them.

One crucial requirement for memorial belief is that it must have a causal link with the knowledge we are trying to remember. If there is no causal link, it is highly likely that the memorial belief is false.

Virtual knowledge and memory are crucial for testimonial beliefs too. Without memory, we would not know what knowledge to transmit to the next person. In fact, testimony enables the functioning of collective memory among a group of individuals, which can actually allow larger chunks of information to be remembered and recalled without the use of recording materials.

Testimony, we have learnt, is useful for transmitting belief and knowledge. But the accuracy of the transmitting process, and subsequently the justification of the transferred belief are highly dependent on the reliability of the source. When receiving a testimonial belief from another person, it is important that the individual is a trustworthy source of belief.

Direct and basic beliefs

Both memory and testimony have one thing in common: They are not basic sources of knowledge. While basic sources like perception, introspection and reason are able to generate new justified true beliefs and knowledge, memory and testimony are only able to transmit them.

But this does not stop memory and testimony from providing justification for direct beliefs. While both knowledge extenders may function in the middle of an inferential chain, they can also act as justification for a beginning premise. This is especially so when the premises for testimonial or memorial belief has been forgotten, resulting in these beliefs acting as the first in the chain.

What this also means is that it is possible for memorial and testimonial beliefs to constitute knowledge even when there is little or no justification. This is entailed by the common sense conception of knowledge, which states that justification is not always necessary for knowledge.

Levels of skepticism

All the above concepts we have talked about so far can be applied to various domains of knowledge we are aware of: Science, morality, religion, and others. Each domain, however, emphasises different grounds for knowledge over others.

Also, in considering arguments, individuals will tend to favour certain ones over others, for instance in the debate about whether a theistic God exists or not, or whether evolution is true. Debaters need to be clear as to why they are skeptical towards one argument but less for others. And if different standards of skepticism are applied, they must be explained.

The material for this series of essays will be drawn mainly from Epistemology: A Contemporary Introduction to the Theory of Knowledge by Robert Audi, an American philosopher well known for his works on epistemology and ethics, as well as the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, a great (and free) online resource on philosophy.

Epistemology and god: A tentative account of knowledge (3)

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Mon, 29 Nov 2010 00:50:00 +0000

In the previous essay, I mentioned how knowledge must be rooted in its basic sources. There are three of them: Introspection, reason, and perception. I will deal with each of these in turn. There are also what I call knowledge extenders – memory and testimony and inference – that extend the usefulness of our basic knowledge. They will also be described.

Many moderate skeptics, while rejecting most knowledge about the external world, would still accept self-evident propositions as true. The most self-evident of them is introspection.

Introspection

Introspection can be defined as the act of “thinking about thinking”. When we introspect, we identify the sort of thoughts that are going through and collected in our minds. Propositions and beliefs that arise purely through reflection can be said to have been derived out of introspection, since they cannot be obtained by other means.

An example would be the proposition that “I exist”, which is rooted in the inner observation of our thoughts. The fact that we are able to think that we are thinking attests to the idea that we possess self-identity. Other examples would be the thought that “I am thinking about thinking”, as well as an assortment of thoughts about our mental states.

We can consider introspection one of the most reliable grounds for knowledge because of privileged access – which is the idea that I, and I alone, am truly aware of my own thoughts. But even introspective beliefs can be fallible, as observed by our own inability to sometimes precisely determine our own motivations, beliefs, and thoughts.

So while some introspective beliefs may be the most direct and infallible around, it appears that more complex introspective beliefs, such as those identifying instantaneous mental states, are less certain.

Reason and inference

A priori propositions can also be considered self-evident and therefore infallible to some skeptics. Kant makes a distinction between analytic and synthetic propositions, but both appear to be unjustifiable by observation alone. These propositions arise mainly out of introspection and the understanding of appropriate concepts. They are also necessarily true, meaning they apply in all situations.

Non-basic a posteriori propositions do not seem as self-evident, since skeptics can cast doubt on the belief that perception allows us to experience the external world. A posteriori propositions are derived mainly from experience, are all synthetic, and can either be necessary or contingent.

Within a foundationalist account of knowledge, both a priori and a posteriori propositions can transmit inferentially. Every inferential belief, we have learnt, has at least one premise and a conclusion. In an inferential chain, the first premise must ultimately be a direct belief based on a basic source in order for justification and knowledge to transmit optimally down the chain.

There are two types of inferential chains. Deductive inference has only two possible states:
Valid or invalid. While deductive inference can transmit both a priori and a posteriori beliefs, a priori beliefs can only be transmitted deductively. This is because a priori beliefs can only have two states: True or false. Hence, if a conclusion is entailed by a premise, and that premise is a priori and true, then it must follow that the conclusion is true too.

Inductive inferences are different. Although we can call a belief inductively “valid”, its validity is gauged by probability, which means there is some ambiguity over what sort of inductive beliefs should be considered valid. Only a posteriori beliefs can be transmitted inductively because the external world is so complex that unknown propositions and other factors can affect the validity of inductive inferences.

Also, within inductive inferential chains, a premise does not entail a conclusion in a strict logical sense. Instead, a premise causes a conclusion, whereby causation is perhaps the result of natural processes.

There is another point of contrast between deductive and inductive inference. While both justification and knowledge are transmitted totally intact down a valid deductive chain, it is a different case with inductive chains. There, justification tends to diminish the further down the chain we go, since the likelihood of it being undermined by contradictory propositions tends to increase. However, since knowledge claims can only be valid or invalid, it is not as affected.

Finally, there is still some lingering ambiguity regarding a priori and a posteriori propositions, since it appears that both types of propositions are at least partially dependent on both reason and experience. Also, the idea of concepts needs to be expanded upon. What exactly are concepts, and how are they formed? Are they justified coherently, or should they be accepted intuitively? We shall leave these questions for another day.

Perception

Some brief notes on perception before we end this essay. I have talked about how inductive inference is dependent on experience to generate its premises. Experience refers to either introspection or perception.

While skeptics contend that perception is not self-evident, it is nonetheless still a major source of knowledge. This is largely possible because we accept prima facie the adverbialist theory of perceptual realism, which states that perception consists of a sensual experience of a real, external world, which has no intermediary acting between object and perceiver.

But in order to derive propositions from perception, it has to be coupled with knowledge of concepts. For instance, the necessary a posteriori proposition that a water molecule is made up of two Hydrogen atoms and one Oxygen atom is dependent understanding concepts like Hydrogen and atom, among others. But again, a more detailed understanding of what concepts are is needed here.

In any case, we need to move on to the remaining two knowledge extenders – memory and testimony. That is our task in the next essay.

The material for this series of essays will be drawn mainly from Epistemology: A Contemporary Introduction to the Theory of Knowledge by Robert Audi, an American philosopher well known for his works on epistemology and ethics, as well as the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, a great (and free) online resource on philosophy.

Epistemology and god: A tentative account of knowledge (2)

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Mon, 22 Nov 2010 00:49:00 +0000

It is apparent that conclusively or undefeasibly justified belief is not necessary for a person to hold knowledge. In fact, we can question if justified belief is even necessary at all. This is possible if we define knowledge as reliably grounded true belief, where a true belief is grounded in a reliable process or source.

However, such a definition has its limits. We are unclear how exactly a process or ground is reliable. Perhaps probability is one way of explaining reliability. We may also assert reliability by virtue of an association with a basic source like perception. Hence, a proposition would be considered reliable if it is grounded in a basic source. But these explanations must be expanded in order for them to be adopted.

And although reliabalists are trying to distance their theory from justificationalist ones, it may well be that reliabalism is a form of justificationalist theory: A belief is justified if it is produced by a reliable process or ground, and such a belief would also constitute knowledge. So while one may adopt the reliabalist theory, it is difficult to decouple justification and knowledge. It seems that in many cases, a justified belief can count as knowledge.

Internalism, externalism, and truth

So far, we have been looking at how knowledge might be justified. There is another way to characterise knowledge and justification: Justification is primarily internalist, while knowledge is mostly externalist. If justification is internalist, this means that it is totally derived from internal processes that are accessible by introspection.

Knowledge, being externalist, may be grounded in reliable sources we are not cognizant about. The veracity of knowledge does not always depend on internal mental processes. It could be based, for instance, on an external object that may or may not be perceivable. On the other hand, examples of introspective propositions like “I am thinking” may also prove that knowledge can be grounded internally.

We have learnt about how knowledge can be associated with its justification and source. But we assume that knowledge is also closely associated with truth. There are many theories that associate knowledge and truth, but we consider the correspondence theory, which states that “a proposition is true if it corresponds with external reality”, a likely candidate.

This is because the theory meshes well with reliabalist and externalist theories. A reliabalist believes that a belief does not require justification to constitute knowledge, and could therefore be based on a reliable source which could be external. An externalist believes that much of knowledge is grounded externally. I am not saying that the other theories are invalid though; each may be credible in their own right.

Concluding our discussion on knowledge and belief, perhaps both skeptics and common sense adherents are both right about their definition of knowledge. Perhaps there is no singular meaning for “knowledge” at all – it depends on how we define the concept. If we render it as belief that is conclusively justified, then knowledge does not exist.

But if we accept that knowledge may contain the possibility of error, then we can be more permissive about what constitutes knowledge. In the domain of science, the idea of approximate knowledge is one such example. We understand that certain scientific formulas which are derived inductively can still constitute knowledge even though they may only be applicable under certain conditions (such as temperature and gravitational strength) and permissiveness of accuracy.

But what we can be more certain of is that there are degrees of truth in this world, from propositions that are plainly irrational to beliefs that appear self-evidently true and are not susceptible to contradiction.

Foundationalism and holistic coherentism

If we reject the extreme form of skepticism which denies that we have any justified belief, then we would accept that an average human being would hold a large network of justified beliefs in his or her mind. If that is the case, then it seems that the best way of describe this network of beliefs would be the theory of moderate foundationalism.

In essence, foundationalists believe that all inferential, non-direct beliefs must originate from non-inferential, direct beliefs. The latter is grounded in the basic sources of knowledge, namely reason, perception, introspection, and sometimes memory and testimony. A moderate foundationalists makes room for holistic coherentism as a theory for describing our network of beliefs.

A holistic coherentist would argue that a belief is justified if it is coherent with another belief. The more beliefs the disputed proposition is coherent with, the stronger the justification. However, on its own, it seems unlikely that the theory would stand because the possibility exists that a belief could cohere perfectly with an entire set of other beliefs and still be wrong.

Also, holistic coherentists must also explain what exactly “coherence” is in order for the theory to be useful. Does coherence simply mean a lack of contradiction between two or more beliefs? More clarity would be useful here.

But perhaps we can ascertain that if holistic coherentism is to be true, it must exist within a foundationalist framework, which grants a network of beliefs a certain “rootedness”. According to moderate foundationalists, both coherentism and foundationalism could be used to determine the justification of beliefs.

Justified beliefs, then, are like spider webs, they cohere with one another, and yet they depend ultimately on an edifice for support. That edifice would be the external structure of knowledge and truth, and closest to that edifice would be the foundational layer of self-evident, direct, or non-inferential beliefs.

So far, we have made a lot of claims about the nature of knowledge and belief. But all these claims must be based on the solid foundations of our basic sources. We will examine those in the next essay.

The material for this series of essays will be drawn mainly from Epistemology: A Contemporary Introduction to the Theory of Knowledge by Robert Audi, an American philosopher well known for his works on epistemology and ethics, as well as the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, a great (and free) online resource on philosophy.

Epistemology and god: A tentative account of knowledge (1)

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Mon, 15 Nov 2010 00:47:00 +0000

My motivation for writing this series of essays has been to explore how epistemology can contribute to our understanding of God. So far, we have broken knowledge down to its various components and analysed them separately.

Here, I will attempt to piece everything together into a coherent account of knowledge. It goes without doubt that many of my propositions about knowledge are contestable, therefore what I will offer here is tentative and open to correction. After offering my account, I will attempt to apply it to the concept of a theistic God.

Acceptance and rational belief

I will start off by describing the various epistemological attitudes that are possible. They vary in terms of their distance from truth. The first is acceptance, which is the furthest afield, followed by rationality, justified belief, and finally knowledge, which is closest to truth.

Acceptance simply refers to an adoption of a belief without the appropriate justification. It is something we do in day-to-day living, simply because it is not practical to verify every belief we have. It is a kind of faith – I believe in something because there is a lack of sufficient doubt against that prevailing belief. Acceptance is not the absence of doubt; rather, it is the absence of substantial doubt.

Rational beliefs are those that appeal psychologically to a person, but may not be sufficiently justified. They are not entirely irrational because they appeal to some form of logic, although they may be easily defeated upon deeper investigation. And while acceptance may be negatively justified (with an absence of opposing evidence); rational beliefs are positively justified, although not to the level of justified belief.

Moving along, we have justified belief and knowledge, which we have talked about in great detail previously. I shall provide a summary below:

Justified belief

Justified belief, we have learnt, is belief that we take to be true based on positive justification that is more substantial than those of rational belief. Justification is the process that generates belief, changing our attitude towards it from outright skepticism to justified belief. Justification is based on the right grounds, which include the following areas: Perception, introspection, reason, memory, testimony, and inference. These are also what we call direct sources of knowledge and justification.

A question arises: What level of justification is necessary for belief to transfer from merely being rational to being justified? How should this justification be characterised and defined? There are no clear answers, because even within justified belief, there are different levels of justification: Besides mere justified belief, there is also undefeasibly justified belief and conclusively justified belief.

Perhaps we can characterise these different beliefs in terms of the effort undertaken to justify them. Justified belief is closer to truth versus rational belief because they are based on justification that is logically sound. An example of a rational belief transiting into justified belief would be the proposition that there is one marble in an opaque glass jar I am holding while in a dark room. That belief is rational when I shake the box and come to an immediate assumption that there is a single marble contained within. It is psychologically obvious to me that there is a marble inside, and I have some justification for it.

But it only becomes justified belief when I open the glass jar and feel the marble, assuming that it is pitch dark. This is so because my justification that a marble is inside is now much more certain; it feels like a marble, is about as heavy as a marble, and even bounces like one. I have gone through a process of verification to justify that my belief is true.

But we can take it a notch higher and demand undefeated justification for our belief, which means that our belief cannot be undermined by a false premise and hence suffer epistemic defeat. And yet this may not be enough to guarantee that a proposition is true: A belief always has a possibility of error unless it is conclusively justified, or true beyond a reasonable doubt by eliminating all possible contradictions.

Knowledge

But we have learnt that it is impossible to have any knowledge about the external world if we require conclusive justification for all our beliefs. That is what adherents of skepticism would like us to believe. Many skeptics argue that in order for a belief to constitute knowledge, all possible contradicting propositions must be uncovered and disproven. Based on this stringent criteria, they would reject the idea that human beings possess any knowledge at all, save perhaps for self-evident a priori and introspective beliefs.

However, there appears to be no reason to accept the skeptic’s arguments, which is largely dependent on premises that are difficult to substantiate. On the other hand, supporters of the common sense notion of knowledge are justified in holding their beliefs because they appear to have grounding in the right sources like perception and reason.

So because we have successfully provided a negative defense for the common sense argument and some sketch of a positive defense, we are at least prima facie justified in believing that we possess much knowledge about the external world. It is debatable how conclusive our justification is, but for now we assume it.

Moving on, we will attempt to provide a working definition of knowledge and describe how this definition came to be.

The material for this series of essays will be drawn mainly from Epistemology: A Contemporary Introduction to the Theory of Knowledge by Robert Audi, an American philosopher well known for his works on epistemology and ethics, as well as the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, a great (and free) online resource on philosophy.

"Drink your milk"

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Mon, 08 Nov 2010 16:34:00 +0000

"Be a good boy, drink you milk and sleep early."

"LET us all forgive him for his blunder. AFTERALL, HE is only a KID!"

"Still got a lot more to learn after graduation."

"YOU DO NOT EVEN HAVE THE KNOWLEDGE TO COMPREHEND MYTH AND REALITY!"

"HES STILL STUDYING …. still HAS a LOT to LEARN!!"

These are some of the comments I received recently on my article, which was published on Temasek Review. But no worries, this is peanuts compared to the shellacking I received when I criticised City Harvest Church.

In fact, I find the comments entertaining, as much as they are condescending.

They speak as if an undergraduate is not intelligent enough to judge whether a website is credible. As if somehow working a few years in the "real world" will increase media literacy.

Of course, I do realise I need to be more empathetic of the frustrations faced by the readers of Temasek Review, and only when I truly learn to be economically self-reliant can I truly understand their angst. But does that mean I cannot judge what they say based on their merits? Surely an undergraduate has some capacity to do that?

On the other hand, you can have workers who are sucked in by the propaganda of the government, and believe everything the mainstream media says.

Overall, I detect an underlying condescension towards youth in these comments. People look down on us.

But tell that to Mark Zuckerburg, the founder of Facebook, now the youngest Billionaire in the world.

Tell that to Bill Gates, who founded Microsoft before he graduated from university.

Tell that to Kirsten Han, the young writer from The Online Citizen who has decided to go to the Speaker's Corner to voice out for Yong Vui Kong.

Young people are shaping society all around the world. Sometimes, I wish the government will involve youths more in the shaping of public policy. Sometimes, I wish the church will listen consider an undergraduate's views and gauge their merits instead of obeying someone just because he has a certain "authority". Sometimes, I wish Singaporeans will judge the message espoused by the person, rather than condemning the messenger.

Adults, ignore the youth at your peril.

Epistemology and god: Skepticism (4)

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Mon, 08 Nov 2010 00:20:00 +0000

Let us examine Audi’s defense of justified belief to see if it holds against skepticism. He believes that in order to give justification to second-order beliefs, we need a general premise for expressing how a belief can be justified, and a particular premise to say how a belief we hold fulfills the criteria.

Here Audi argues for how an introspective belief that “I am thinking” is justified:

(1) An attentive belief to the effect that one is now in an occurrent mental state, such as thinking, is justified, where an attentive belief is one based on careful attention to the matter in question, and where the justification is not absolute but simply strong enough to make it appropriate for a rational person to hold the belief. The particular premise might be that:

(2) I have an attentive belief I am now in such a state, namely thinking.

I am justified in believing these premises, I would surely be justified in inferring deductively from them, and thereby in believing on the basis of them, what they self-evidently entail, namely, that

(3) My belief that I am thinking is justified.

According to Audi, my belief that my introspective processes reflect my true mental state justifies my holding the second-order belief that my belief that I am thinking is justified. This argument, however, does not break any ground, because even moderate skeptics can accept that introspective beliefs like the one above constitute knowledge.

Justifying perceptual experience

Let us apply the same argument structure to visual experience and see if it defies skepticism:

(1) If one believes, on the basis of a vivid and steady visual experience in which one has the impression of something green before one, that there is something green before one, then one is justified in so believing.

Suppose this premise may be believed with direct justification, and we may also believe (possibly with direct justification) that

(2) I have a belief (that there is something green before me) grounded in the way the premise—principle (1)—requires.

Then I may, much as before, justifiedly conclude that

(3) I am justified in believing that there is something green before me. Suppose, moreover, that principle (1) provides the basis for only prima facie justification; I might conclude that my perceptual belief is prima facie justified—roughly, justified in the absence of defeating factors. This would be a significant conclusion, even if (as seems possible) I could not, by reflection alone, rule out all of those defeaters.

Here we see that because of my belief that a consistent visual experience produces justified belief about the external world, I am justified in believing that my second-order belief that the field is green is justified.

Although it appears impossible to justify my beliefs any further, we can take it that the proof I have for introspective and perceptual belief is sufficient. If we accept a regress of demonstration, which states that a belief will always have an unshown shower, then we must reach a point where it becomes impossible to justify our beliefs further. Therefore, we are prima facie justified that we do hold justified beliefs about ourselves and the world.

Defending knowledge

But even skeptics will accept that an individual can hold justified belief. For instance, while skeptics can agree that an individual can hold justified perceptual belief based on visual experience, they reject the idea that such beliefs constitute knowledge. A question follows naturally: Can advocates of common sense defend their definition of knowledge positively?

Here, Audi concedes that based on the above arguments about introspective and perceptual beliefs alone, we can at most have knowledge that we possess justified beliefs about these subject matters. This is because the second-order beliefs we possess regarding our beliefs are obtained directly via reflection, and therefore self-evident. It would be inappropriate to doubt any further.

Hence, the arguments do not show how our beliefs concerning the external world constitute knowledge. It merely shows that we know we can have these justified beliefs, which are themselves prima facie justified at best.

It appears then that the negative defense of common sense has been more successful than its positive counterpart. While we have successfully demonstrated how skeptical arguments lack justification for their premises, it appears that common sense fares only slightly better.

Justified beliefs constitute knowledge at most only in a prima facie manner, in light of the lack of evidence to justify skepticism. But perhaps this is good enough. The common sense conception of knowledge is derived mainly from our daily observations, and has served us well so far.

But common sense should not be seen as a shield for dogmatism. It does leave open the possibility that our current view about knowledge could be unseated in the future. For all we know, a rendition of the skeptical argument could be right. But unless strong evidence can be found to unseat the externalist, common sense notion of knowledge, there is no reason to deny that we possess it.

The material for this series of essays will be drawn mainly from Epistemology: A Contemporary Introduction to the Theory of Knowledge by Robert Audi, an American philosopher well known for his works on epistemology and ethics, as well as the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, a great (and free) online resource on philosophy.

Epistemology and god: Skepticism (3)

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Mon, 01 Nov 2010 01:14:00 +0000

Besides inductive belief, skeptics have cast doubt on our knowledge about other subject matters. For instance, they question if it is possible to known if other minds exist – a conundrum called the problem of other minds. Since we have privileged access to our own mind, it seems that we can only be sure about what we are thinking while being clueless about the inner lives of others.

We obtain clues about what others are thinking based on our observation of their actions, behaviour, and verbal communication. These beliefs are apparently inductive, and therefore not valid as knowledge.

Skeptics have even taken this a step further, going as far as doubting if our own bodies exist. This is known as the problem of the body. Again, if belief about our bodily sensations are obtained through sense experience, are they not inductive and therefore do not constitute knowledge?

The only valid knowledge we may be able to hold about ourselves is that we are conscious minds with thoughts of our own. This puts us in an egocentric predicament, where it seems possible that we are nothing but a disembodied soul in a realm with no external reality. Some skeptics have even pushed further, questioning the idea that our knowledge of our thought processes is infallible, and ultimately, questioning self-evident beliefs.

Negative defense of common sense

Faced with this onslaught of skepticism, philosophers have defended the common sense notion of knowledge with either a negative defense of common sense or a positive defense of common sense. The negative defense seeks to undermine skeptical arguments by proving that skeptics are not justified in their conclusions with the premises they have.

On the other hand, the positive defense seeks to establish the common sense notion of knowledge as valid epistemology by arguing how we can form knowledge out of (or rather the lack of conclusive) justified belief. We will first articulate what a negative defense might consist of, and then establish the positive defense.

As a whole, the rebuttals of the various skeptical propositions, namely the infallibility, uncertainty, entailment, and cogent principles, share a similar concept. Critics believe that the skeptical argument fails to meet its own stringent definition of knowledge.

Take the infallibility principle for example. First of all, skeptics do not appear to have a credible argument to support their proposition that knowledge must be infallible belief.

Secondly, the infallible principle requires that a belief cannot be undermined by propositions that could potentially undermine it. Therefore, in order for the belief to constitute knowledge, these alternative propositions (also called relevant alternatives), must be disproved. But again, the assumption that knowledge requires that all defeating propositions be falsified is unfounded.

It is the same story for the entailment and cogent principles. Until conclusive justification can be found for proving that these principles hold for knowledge, we cannot take them seriously as accounts of knowledge.

With all these principles in doubt, it is possible that inductive transmission can produce knowledge. It is also possible that we can hold knowledge other than infallible and certain a priori and a posteriori beliefs. In fact, it is even probable that we do not even need justification or sufficient justification to hold knowledge.

Positive defense of common sense

While we have firmly rebutted skepticism, we need a reason to believe that the common sense conception of knowledge is more compelling and closer to truth. That is why we need a positive defense of common sense. Below, we will consider if such a defense is forthcoming, and whether it succeeds in defeating skepticism.

Such a defense must also come in two parts: First, it must prove that an individual can indeed hold justified beliefs about his own thoughts and the external world, and second, that these justified beliefs can constitute knowledge.

The success of the first part will depend on whether we can come up with, as Audi puts it, “justification for second-order beliefs that there are justified beliefs”. First-order beliefs can be defined as beliefs about the world we live in and the inner life we possess. They can arise through introspection, perception or reason, just to name a few. Second-order beliefs refer to beliefs about first-order beliefs. The premises that undergird skepticism are second-order beliefs. A good example would be the entailment principle, which states that only deductive beliefs can be knowledge.

And since skepticism has failed to justify its second-order beliefs, Audi argues that the common sense notion of knowledge would be deemed closer to the truth if its second-order beliefs can be justified.

The material for this series of essays will be drawn mainly from Epistemology: A Contemporary Introduction to the Theory of Knowledge by Robert Audi, an American philosopher well known for his works on epistemology and ethics, as well as the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, a great (and free) online resource on philosophy.

Is Temasek Review credible?

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Sat, 30 Oct 2010 08:37:00 +0000

A short opinion piece I wrote for Blogtv.sg. This article first appeared on their website.

Like last week’s Toto results, it is impossible to predict if an anonymous blog will be credible. Miscreants and hotheads do exist out there to sow discord and spout untruths. But on the flipside, some anonymous blogs can be a revelation.

So, how do we judge Temasek Review, an anonymous Singaporean blog set up with the intention of offering “ independent, balanced and unbiased coverage on socio-political affairs in Singapore?”

Here’s how to start: Avoid dismissing anonymous blogs immediately, simply because they can add much value to public debate.

Take for instance Colby Buzzell, a former US soldier who operated an anonymous blog offering first-hand accounts of the Iraqi War. For him, staying anonymous is a matter of necessity, not preference.

Similar cases are common even before the Internet era: Former US President Richard Nixon was brought down during the Watergate Scandal because of a secret informer nicknamed Deep Throat, later revealed to be FBI Associate Director Mark Felt.

So, let’s judge a blog by its content.

I will give Temasek Review praise where it is due: It prospers because it capitalises well on the anger and dissatisfaction felt by a segment of Singaporeans towards the government. Its articles on foreign talent, rising prices, and human rights draw significant viewership and heated debate, and it appears to be earning some income off advertisements.

On the other hand, Temasek Review is anything but “unbiased”, despite its lofty claims. It is an echo chamber where Singaporeans feed off one another’s rage, where insults are hurled at those who offer differing opinions. Too often, emotions prevail over rational debate.

As a media consumer, I detest its brand of character smearing. On Temasek Review’s long hit list includes: Jack Lin, a leader of the YPAP, Ng Wan Ching, a journalist at a local paper, and most recently Braema Mathi, an activist.

The website’s attack on Jack Lin comes across as particularly vicious and immature: The insinuation that the YPAP leader is gay is besides the point and even drew flak from its own readers. So much for taking a higher moral ground than the mainstream media, which it declares to be an ideological opponent.

But here’s an encouragement: I do read Temasek Review every once in a while because it produces the occasional gem. But for it to be taken seriously by the wider public, it must change its approach.

Talking and eating food

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Mon, 25 Oct 2010 11:48:00 +0000

There’s a vast difference between talking about the best Hainanese chicken rice in Singapore and actually going out to try it.

It’s the same with social action: There comes a point where thought and talk are no longer enough. We need to step outside.

Too often, we belong to one of two categories: We either think and theorise too much, or we act without thinking about its consequences. The first can lead to depression and self-inflicted harm. The second harms others. Both create an unbalanced perspective of reality.

But it is not enough just to think; we must think well. We have been indoctrinated since young to obey: As kids we obey our parents, in school we obey our teachers, and in church we obey our pastors. But there comes a point of time where outright obedience becomes unhealthy and infantile. Only toddlers repeat their preachers words; adults analyse and consider multiple perspectives.

And yet we are taught that if pastor says A, we must do A. We are trained to shed our adulthood and be like kids again. That is suicidal: We become prostitutes at the mercy of Christian pimps. We become intellectually impoverished, depriving ourselves of what makes us human. We become the pastor’s parrot, easily victimised by our leader’s shortcomings and misdirection.

But those who suffer from this condition often don’t recognise it themselves. They are ignorant of their own poverty, believing that they are already exercising their critical faculties. But how can we investigate if we do not consider alternative ideas at length, if all we read is one interpretation of the Bible and books that cohere to our point of view? How can we understand society if we do not understand the philosophical, cultural, and historical undercurrents that shape it?

Some of us don’t even read, for Christ’s sake.

It is too easy, however, for us to slip into the other extreme: We become obsessed with hypothesising and theorising. We engage in intellectual masturbation, benefitting ourselves without considering how our thoughts can manifest in reality.

Both are essential. We need time for self-reflection and meditation. True humility comes when we’ve dug the deepest depths of knowledge, only to find that we don't know much. But we also need to climb down the ivory tower and get our hands dirty. I consider communication a form of action. This blog serves that purpose. And yet I’m not satisfied at blogging, because I know that there’s much more that I can do. I want to maximise the goodness that can come out of me.

At the end of the day, life is a cycle between thought and action. I believe doing wrong and knowing you did wrong is better than doing wrong and thinking you are right. To even begin to have a full understanding of our own moral failings, we must first set aside time to think about it.

As a friend said to me today, it is only when we understand our own sinful nature can we begin to comprehend the grace of God. It’s like eating good chicken rice: We can only truly appreciate it if we’ve tasted the really bad ones.

Epistemology and god: Skepticism (2)

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Sun, 24 Oct 2010 00:14:00 +0000

Previously we have explored two skeptical definitions of knowledge. This sets the stage for another principle that is related to knowledge. But instead of strictly defining knowledge, this proposition defines what sort of transmitted belief constitutes knowledge. It applies strictly to inferential beliefs, which form the bulk of our knowledge.

The entailment principle, states that if evidence “e” entails proposition “q”, then I know q on the basis of e. In other words, in order to know a proposition on the basis of its premises, that premise must have a causal link with the proposition.

This principle effectively says that knowledge can only be transmitted deductively, because in inductive transmission, knowledge does not necessarily entail from the premise: Although e entails q, S may still not know q, because q may also be entailed by other factors, therefore giving rise to the notion that inductive reasoning is valid by degree, whereas deductive reasoning can only be valid or invalid.

The problem of induction

The entailment principle casts doubt on the inductive transmission of knowledge. If inferential knowledge can only be transmitted deductively, this means that it cannot be transmitted inductively at all. Let us examine the reason for this.

Consider the inferential, inductive belief that my boss will most likely come to work tomorrow. Assuming that I know the man well, I can conclude from the premises that he is healthy and committed to his job that he will show up at the office. But even though I am pretty certain of my belief, it fails the skeptical conception of knowledge as infallible and absolutely certain.

The belief that my boss will show up at work fails to be infallible because we do not have conclusive justification. Even if I ask him now if he will turn up the next day and he says yes, it is still not conclusive because circumstances may change an hour or a day later. On a related note, the belief is also not certain because I am not aware of all his circumstances. For all I know, he may have eaten unclean food today and will end up with a bad stomach tomorrow. But I do not know this.

Therefore, because there is no guarantee that inductive reasoning will produce knowledge, it has to be rejected. We can observe here that the entailment principle works together with the infallible and certainty conceptions of knowledge to undermine common sense. Deductive beliefs fulfill the criteria of being infallible and certain because of their predictable nature. As long as the premise is correct, the conclusion will follow.

Knowledge skeptics accept

The problem of induction illustrates just the sort of epistemic ground that knowledge needs. It appears that only beliefs arising from deduction can constitute knowledge, which in turn must come from self-evident propositions. In a previous essay on reason, we understood that self-evident a priori beliefs can only be deduced from other self-evident a priori beliefs. Such a prori inferential beliefs can only be valid or invalid – they are therefore deductive in nature.

Moderate skeptics would appear to have no problem accepting a priori beliefs as knowledge, but they would leave out most empirical knowledge. The only exceptions are introspective beliefs arising from reflection, such as the proposition that “I exist”. This a posteriori proposition is considered infallible because it arises directly from introspection (more on this in a later essay). Furthermore, without the proposition that “I exist”, skeptics would undermine their own position that skepticism is valid, because skepticism requires that “I” conceive it.

However, once we go down the inferential chain, we realise that beliefs that have these infallible a posteriori beliefs as premises will cease to be infallible. This could generally be true of a posteriori beliefs, with visual experience as a good example. Consider the following:

1) I believe justifiably via introspection that I am now having a visual experience.
2) Through repeated empirical observation, I find no evidence otherwise that my visual experience portrays an accurate depiction of the external world.
3) Hence, I believe prima facie that my visual experience portrays an accurate depiction of the external world.
4) Because I am justified in believing through empirical observation that I possess an accurate representation of the external world, I believe that I have inductive knowledge about the external world.

Premise one is can be construed as an infallible a posteriori belief. Moderate skeptics will not deny that such a belief can be obtained directly from introspection. The point of contention comes with premise two and three onwards. The only way we can justify our belief that our visual experience gives an accurate representation of the external world is through repeated empirical observation.

Since no discernable evidence of relevant alternatives (for instance, it could be that all we are seeing is a hallucination) could be found, I conclude prima facie that my visual experience gives me an accurate portrayal of the world. At most, we can consider this conclusion an inductive belief. Although we say that we lack evidence to prove otherwise, it may be because it is impossible for us to find proof in the first place.

As such, the most we can conclude out of this is that it is more likely that our visual experience gives us an accurate depiction of the external world as opposed to it being a hallucination. An outright positive answer would be a stretch. In view of this uncertainty, perhaps all perceptual belief should be classified as inductive, and therefore ineligible as knowledge.

Hence, on the basis of the entailment principle, moderate skeptics will tend to reject all forms of knowledge other than a priori beliefs and a posteriori beliefs arising directly from introspection, which are either self-evident or obtained deductively.

The cogent principle

We have discussed three tiers of criteria by which skeptics will judge belief to see if it constitutes knowledge. A belief must first pass the test of infallibility, which means that it cannot be false. Next, the belief must pass the test of certainty, whereby the knower must be absolutely sure that his belief is true. Lastly, with regards to inferential beliefs, they can only be transmitted deductively.

But what does it mean to be certain? Skeptics argue that belief constituting knowledge must be certain in the sense that it adheres to the cogent principle. Here is how Audi defines it: “With the possible exception of beliefs of certain self-evident propositions and propositions about one’s current consciousness, one knows that something is so only if one has grounds for it from which one can (in principle) argue cogently for it on the basis of those grounds.”

Basically, the knower must be able to present his case regarding the grounds and justification for his belief. He must explain the grounds on which the belief is based on, and what sort of conclusive justification (reliabilism may be used here) has been used to establish the belief as truth. It is hence not enough to just know a proposition; one must also know it certainly.

With the cogent principle established, we have surveyed the underlying definitions of knowledge which skeptics hold to establish their arguments against various facets of common sense knowledge. These arguments come in many forms, and they place in doubt many things which people commonly hold to be true. One of them is the problem of induction, which we have highlighted earlier. In the next essay, I will outline more of such arguments, without going into too much detail about them.

The material for this series of essays will be drawn mainly from Epistemology: A Contemporary Introduction to the Theory of Knowledge by Robert Audi, an American philosopher well known for his works on epistemology and ethics, as well as the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, a great (and free) online resource on philosophy.

Why we should protect the environment

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Thu, 21 Oct 2010 14:28:00 +0000

It's a hazy Wednesday afternoon in Sembawang, where the farthest HDB flat is barely visible under the smog. While farmers in Sumatra continue burning the forests, air quality here has dropped. As of 10pm Thursday, the PSI level is at 99, just a whisker below the 'unhealthy' range. Picture by Terence Lee.

A church in Geylang

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Wed, 20 Oct 2010 18:54:00 +0000

A Wednesday ministry session at Oikos Fellowship, which conducts street ministry to sex workers. Meetings are held in a unit within a nondescript building along Geylang Road, which is converted into a homely gathering place. Activities are held there everyday, each catering to different groups. Picture by Terence Lee (more here).

IN LAND scarce Singapore, religion has found a way to prosper. Chinese and Christian funerals are frequently seen under HDB blocks, while churches co-exist peacefully beside temples.

Even at the modern Singapore Expo, it's common to see two or three congregations hold services within the same week. Buddhists and Muslims hold religious events there too.

This comes as a surprise, considering how the state has always been proudly rationalistic. Science is huge here, with the government pumping billions of dollars into research and development. Yet religion has sprouted up in the most unlikely of places -- even the seedy ones.

In Geylang, where prostitutes roam while pimps keep an eye on them, churches and Hindu temples have been set up to attract the faithful. At Pearl's Centre, home to the notorious Yangtze Cinema where old men go to jack off to R-rated movies, you can easily find shops selling Buddhist relics.

The relationship between sin and faith fascinates me. In Christianity, we understand that sin was the inevitable result of man's free will, which is held as the fundamental premise of morality. Without free will, we cannot do right.

So, perhaps sin and faith are two sides of the same coin, where one is the yin to another's yang.

Sin creates opportunities for religion to prosper. In Geylang, for example, the existence of sex workers, some of whom are victims of human trafficking, creates avenues for ministry workers at Oikos Fellowship who eagerly want to live out their faith tenets.

But could this co-existence be a manifestation of man's Jekyll and Hyde nature instead? You could have Christian or Hindu devotees who attends service one day, then visit a brothel right after saying their prayers. Or an old uncle could be purchasing Buddhist trinkets before heading upstairs to watch a girl strip.

Sin's relationship to religion is indeed complicated. On one hand, both seems opposed. On the other, they appear mutually-dependent. To untangle the web of complicated relationships require some effort.

I'd like to stay, but...

noreply@blogger.com (Terence) — Sun, 17 Oct 2010 19:27:00 +0000

Lots of thoughts swimming in my head now.

It's been a couple of weeks since I've left City Harvest, and I must admit: It feels liberating. Leaving the church, I guess, was an act of declaration for me. I have made my stand, and I am no longer ashamed to tell others about it. I have become less afraid of standing on my own two feet, and asserting my self-identity.

It's a relief for me to leave all that flaky church stuff behind: The institutionalised system of control through indoctrination and emotionalism, the cult of personality, and the fluffy, feel-good sermons.

I find it sad though to leave behind the friends I've made and the memories I've created in church.

I'd like to stay, but the rigidity of church divides us. I put this up as my Facebook status just a few minutes ago: "It's sad how some churches exclude other congregations from fellowship just because of different doctrines and beliefs, going as far as calling them a cult. TBH, I'm quite disillusioned by the leaders of the mainstream churches and mainstream Christianity, even though they've done much good. That's why I left a mainstream church."

No church is perfect, that's for sure. But then again, there comes a point of time when what the leadership does goes beyond what is acceptable to you. Forgive me if I sound overcritical; but I am merely sharing your belief that church leaders should display exemplary character and integrity. It's okay to fail, but at least demonstrate genuine contriteness. At least attempt to make restitutions. Unfortunately, I saw too little of that.

If there is no hope for them, what hope is there for the rest of us mere mortals?

Jesus said that we are to examine the plank in our own eyes even as we inspect the speck in our brother's eyes. It is impossible to fault ourselves and repent if we do have the ability to fault others. It is our sense of justice at work. Righteousness demands that we judge the actions of others, provided that our discernment is based on careful consideration.

To say "let's not judge the pastor" is in fact a way of dulling our conscience: We lose the ability to discern right from wrong.

But enough of that; I am painfully aware that I need to correct myself too, and recent weeks have been fruitful in that respect. While I demand integrity and empathy from others, I realise that I need to demand the same of myself. I believe in unmerited grace, but not grace without morals.

Prayer, to me, is an excellent way of realising my own moral depravity and committing oneself to gradual change. And I'll do those things before I sleep tonight.