A good friend of mine, and a reader of this blog (the unkind might say that the second descriptor can only apply if the first one does), sent me the following comments and question (lightly edited) via email.
As usual it was good to see you and to have the discussions. I still remember the one in your back yard a couple of years ago. Anyway, I had a thought concerning your seeking a logical proof that god does or does not exist. Besides the fact that this question has been a devoted cause of a great many determined thinkers, there is the real problem of defining what is meant by the term logical. My question is – have you asked yourself why this is such an important issue to you. In short why are you asking the question?
The first sentence refers to a couple of extensive and intensive discussions that he, another good friend and conversation partner, and I had with several others at a social gathering this past Saturday evening. The third sentence refers to my having stated and maintained, in the course of the discussions, the following. First, I want to know, and not just believe, either that there is or that there is not a god, or absolutely perfect being. That is, if there is a god, I want to know, and not just believe, that there is, via a proof that there is, a proof as absolutely and rigorously valid and sound as any to be found in, to look towards that which is generally accepted as the “gold standard” of proof, mathematics. And, if there isn’t a god, I want to know, and not just believe, that there isn’t, via a similarly absolutely and rigorously valid and sound proof. There, in “absolutely and rigorously valid and sound,” lies my understanding of what a “logical” proof is.
The fourth sentence, noting accurately that “[definitively answering] this question [of the existence of a god] has been a devoted cause of a great many determined thinkers,” has as its backdrop the skeptical or agnostic claim that neither the affirmative nor the negative answer to the question of the existence of a god can be proven to be true. This scepticism was shared by both the agnostics who took part in Saturday evening’s conversations and the fideists (fideism, as I use the term, is the thesis that belief, in matters of theology, on the basis of faith can be a justified belief). I for my part maintained that, while I could well accept as plausible, indeed likely, a claim that there has as a matter of fact been no proof in either the affirmative or the negative, I knew of no absolutely and rigorously valid and sound argument proving that there cannot, as a matter of principle, be one.
I could have added more specifically that I am aware of both at least one argument, concluding that there is a god, the validity of which is perfectly evident and at least one argument, concluding that there is no god, the validity of which is perfectly evident. I do not, however, know of any argument, the soundness of which is so evident, concluding that there is a god nor do I know of any argument, the soundness of which is so evident, concluding that there is no god.
I notice that in this post I have been making use of the logician’s technical distinction between “validity” and “soundness” as if it were obvious to all. In the relatively near future, then, I plan to post an explanation of the distinction, so that we are all “on the same page.” I will in addition, to illustrate the distinction, spell out a valid argument, the classical “argument from evil,” the conclusion of which is that there can be no god, or absolutely perfect being. And I will spell it out in such a way that its validity will be perfectly evident, even while its soundness is not.
But now, then, towards an answer to the question posed: I have indeed asked myself why this question of the existence of a god is such an important issue to me. I do not, however, actually have anything like a full answer. As a preface to the minimalist answer that I am now prepared to give, let me note that, from the point of view of science, mathematics, and philosophy, the question of the personal motives of the scientist, the mathematician, or the philosopher are of but secondary interest; the conclusion arrived at and the logical rigor of the steps taken to arrive at it are the matters of primary concern. If I may dare to compare the case of a much the lesser yours truly with the case of a much the greater Stephen Hawking, the question of his personal motives in thinking about, say, the “Big Bang” is of but secondary interest; the conclusion that the “Big Bang” took place and the logical rigor of the steps taken to arrive at that conclusion are the matters of primary concern.
And now, then, what will have to pass as an answer: modifying slightly what I said in my June 14th post in response to another good friend’s question, that of whether or not I believe in a divine being, I will say the following: I both honestly hope that such a divine being does exist, at least the divine being which is such as I would have a divine being be, and honestly fear that there isn’t such a being. I can concurrently both so experience hope and fear, as opposed to joy and sorrow, because, on the one hand, I neither know nor believe that such a divine being exists and yet, on the other, I neither know nor believe that such a divine being does not exist. While I have hopes and fears, I have no knowledge or belief either way. I desire to know, one way or the other.
Why do I so hope, fear, and desire to know? It is because (1) I further hope that life has an other than merely ad hoc purpose and fear that it does not and (2) I have a conception that life has an other than merely ad hoc purpose only if there is a god, that is, an absolutely perfect being. I call it a “conception” because I have not yet given it an articulation sufficient to warrant its being called a hypothesis. Far less have I subjected it to the dialectics of concerted consideration and discussion, weighing its pros and cons. Far, far less have I demonstrated it to be true. I hope, in the (admittedly relatively distant) future, to move in the direction of changing that set of circumstances.