Let’s consider a line dividing the natural and supernatural worlds. We can leave some of the details of what this line is, exactly, open for now. The natural world is where we live. That’s where our brains are, science is here, Lady GaGa, down quarks, and bacteria live here. And all of our tools for empirically investigating reality reside here. Science operates here with particle accelerators, telescopes, biology labs, and so on. So provisionally the line between worlds is the line between those things that we can investigate with scientific methods—spatial-temporal entities, forces, and phenomena, broadly considered.
What’s on the other side? Well, there have been many proposals. Ghosts, if they were real, would be there. The souls of dead people who psychics talk to would be there. Our prayers are alleged to cross the line. Angels, demons, saints, and all the other things that have been alleged to be real, but not part of the natural world. And of course, God, by most descriptions, if he was real would be there.
Our challenge, then, is to use the tools we have—our empirical and not so empirical methods—to do our best to figure out what’s real over there. We know that people have always eagerly proposed many inhabitants for that world. Over the millennia the number of supernatural hypotheses that have been put forward is staggering. But lots of them, it turns out, are bogus. Demons aren’t real. Ghosts aren’t real. Paluga, Odin, Oprah’s favorite mystical force The Secret, aren’t real.
Everyone, including enthusiastic supporters of Odin and ghosts, has to acknowledge that there must be some criteria of reasonableness that we can employ to sift the real from the imaginary when we consider various proposals for supernatural beings. We’ve at least got to try to use the resources at our disposal to figure out which of those we should believe in and which we should be doubtful of. The alternative would be to simply accept all of them, I suppose. But no one actually does that, nor do they think that’s reasonable. And we can’t accept all of them as real because many of them are mutually exclusive: if the Muslim Allah is real, then the existence of Catholic saints in the afterlife presents a problem; if Paluga created the universe, then a number of other views about the origins of the world must be ruled out.
So what tools do we have? We can gather as much empirical information as we can and try to construct the best, most comprehensive, most logically and probabilistically consistent model of reality on the basis of it. We infer the existence of unobservable (but natural) entities on the basis of observables all the time. The data from bubble chambers in a particle accelerator are explained by the presence or muons, or a readout on a mass spectrometer leads us to postulate the presence of a chemical compound in a sample. It may be that the best explanation of some particular set of empirical observations is that there is a supernatural being on the other side—that’s what “irreducible complexity” and intelligent design arguments allege to show.
Alternately, we can employ more conceptual methods. We can just ask ourselves if the supernatural proposal even makes internal, logical sense. Are the various claims about this supernatural entity consistent with each other? If they are not, then at the very least, that should raise a red flag about the plausibility or viability of the proposal. (I dealt with the possibility of acquiring private knowledge of God through your own thoughts here: Vetting Supernatural Knowledge Claims)
When we have a proposal for an inhabitant of the supernatural realm, then, first we need to get clear on exactly what sort of thing it is alleged to be and what sorts of properties it has. Then we need to see, to the best of our abilities, whether what that thing is alleged to be fits with two things. First, does it fit with our empirical observations of the world and the scientific model of reality that we have developed to explain them. If it doesn’t, then either there is something wrong with the model, or there is something wrong with the supernatural hypothesis. Which one we should prefer in this case will depend on the strength of the evidence we have for the empirical model of the world against the strength of the evidence we have for the supernatural entity A concrete example: consider the fundamentalist Christian God who, among other things, is alleged to have created the entire universe, the Earth, and all life in its current state of development in just seven days approximately 6,000-10,000 years ago. This is a supernatural being that might be real, and whose existence would have some observable implication in the natural world where we live. So in principle, this is a supernatural being that we can investigate empirically.
It would be a gross understatement to say that our investigations have not favored this proposal. The hypotheses that 1) our universe began approximately 13.7 billion years ago with the Big Bang, 2) that life on Earth began in its most primordial forms about 3 billion years ago, and 3) that humans evolved gradually from these lower life forms billions of years later, have become some of the most thoroughly confirmed and justified conclusions in the entire scientific enterprise. To put it very mildly, if we were to accept GodFC (fundamentalist Christian), there are too many other well justified beliefs that we would have to reject. And to make things worse, the evidence in favor of the existence of GodFC is remarkably sketchy. There is very little to recommend it, besides prejudice, ignorance, and delusional ideology. Scratch one more supernatural being off of the list.
And while we are at it, let’s scratch demons, ghosts, sprites, elves, Santa, chi, etc. off the list too. Those are all supernatural hypotheses that can’t be reconciled with the rest of what we know (and have better evidence for). And fundamentalist Jews and Muslims also subscribe to young Earth, creationist views, so there’s two more down:
What about other supernatural hypotheses. We can proceed according to plan. And we can use both approaches. For centuries, philosophers have been considering the viability of abstract characterizations of God as a singular, personal, all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-good being. Call this GodB5, for the big 5 properties listed. Does a being a being like this make sense?
Deductive atheologists argue that it does not (see Drange, Martin, Mackie, McCormick, Grim, Everitt, and others). First, there have been many attempts to work out the details of what it would be for God to have these various properties and in a number of ways it has been argued that one property is incompatible with another. See Drange for a quick overview. These incompatible property arguments suggest, but do not deductively demonstrate, that no such being with these particular properties can exist. Why do they only suggest it? It remains too be seen whether there can be no reasonable account of what it would be for God to be omnipotent, for example, and also omniscient that is logically and conceptually consistent whatsoever. Maybe there could be a characterization of these properties that is both reasonable (no special pleading or ad hoc revisions are allowed) that we just haven’t come up with yet.
Maybe. But at what point do we shift over from “probably,” to “we’re not sure,” to “probably not,” or it is “beyond a reasonable doubt?” To date, among the greatest philosophical minds that have worked on the problem over the course of 2,000 years, we do not have a satisfactory account of omnipotence. (Nor are there any arguments for the existence of God that have achieved any widespread consensus support.) The paradox of the stone, which you may heard of, is just the start of it. In recent decades, philosophers, including many theists, have employed the latest greatest and most sophisticated advances in logic, conceptual analysis, set theory, and even math to try to spell out what omnipotence could be to no avail. We haven’t been able to define it in a way that has sufficient scope to be appropriate for a divine being on the one hand without running afoul of logical paradoxes, and being puny but relatively free of abstract conceptual problems on the other. So the prospects for omnipotence are dim, and they don’t seem to be brightening. And omnipotence doesn’t appear to be a viable property, then the prospects for their being a God who is essentially omnipotent are poor.
I won’t summarize the full set of discussions in the literature here. But a large set of arguments within the deductive atheology tradition (and in the philosophical theism tradition too!), presents us with serious conflicts either in the account of a single property like omnipotence, or between two or more properties. And those conflicts are the strongest indicators that we could have that God, as traditionally conceived, is not even a possible being, much less an actual one. And if we can’t make rational sense of the classical account, then it undermines a number of other proposals: If there’s no GodB5, then there’s no Christian, Muslim, or Jewish God.
The problems pile up. Many people have also concluded (and it would be difficult to insist that they are being unreasonable) that the quantity and quality of suffering in the natural world make the GodB5 hypothesis implausible. There is a very large literature in the background here, but I’m going to stick to the big picture. The problem of evil gives us grounds to put yet another scratch through the GodB5. Put a scratch through it for every compelling argument we have—empirical or conceptual—against the existence of GodB5. With so many stakes in his heart, it will be hard to resurrect this one from this side of the divide.
And so on. For every supernatural hypothesis that has fallen to good sense, evidence, empirical investigation, and careful thought, we can propose it and then cross it out.
So . . . .
Are we proving the negative yet?
That is, what about wide positive atheism? That depends on what sort of standard of proof we are adopting. If we artificially elevate the bar so that it is only reasonable to believe those negative existential claims (“X does not exist”) where we have deductive certainty, then the answer is no. "You can't prove a negative," we hear again and again. But atheism is being held to a false standard of proof. That’s a standard that no one meets for any of their beliefs. Descartes took it seriously in the Enlightenment, but notice that he didn't get far after that. Then, after a number of developments in math and logic in the 19th and 20th centuries, the Euclidean and Aristotelian notions of certainty that used to give us so much security are anachronistic. (See Godel, Cantor, Russell, Reimann, Lakatos, Carnap, Putnam, and Wittgenstein, to name a few.)
Even mathematicians now acknowledge that if we adopt a different set of axioms at the outset, we will be able to “prove,” different conclusions. Furthermore, the arguments in favor of one set of axioms over another themselves do not provide us with perfect deductive certainty. If the wide positive atheist isn’t justified because he lacks this sort of proof, then the problem isn’t just his—that means that we all have to face the consequences of a devastating global skepticism. Put another way, the epistemological challenge of skepticism is not uniquely the atheist’s to solve. In rejecting atheism on these grounds, the skeptic has robbed himself and everyone else of everything. If there are no rationally justified beliefs, then it’s true that wide, positive atheism is not a rationally justified belief. But consider the cost. As many see it, the absolute certainty demand is not an indicator that we don’t have any knowledge, it’s a reason to reevaluate the epistemic principles that produced the demand. (See G.E. Moore.) I will take the existence of many rationally justified beliefs that are justified in the absence of perfect deductive certainty as the reductio argument against skepticism and leave it at that for now. The critic of atheism cannot artificially raise the standard of proof against atheism to levels that no beliefs can fulfill, and then pronounce only atheism dead. He's got much more serious problems.
Can we draw some conclusions or make some projections from the long list of dead gods that are moldering on the other side of the line? Do they prove the negative? They prove the negative as well as it can ever be proven.
For decades, the patent offices in the U.S. and Britain were deluged with submissions for patents on perpetual motion machines—contraptions that would produce more energy than was put into them, and thus solve all of humanity’s energy needs forever. Such a device is highly dubious, if not impossible, given what we know about the laws of nature. After wasting countless frustrating hours reviewing these proposals only to reject them, the patent offices adopted a new policy. They ruled that no more patents applications for pepetual motion machines would be accepted.
We should draw the same lesson about God. The failure of so many attempts to 1) devise a conceptually coherent account of what God is, and 2) reconcile the existence of God with the rest of what our best scientific model of reality describes, give us reasonable grounds for rejecting the existence of such a being. This conclusion is defeasible—we should be prepared, like any reasonable people—to revise this conclusion in the light of new evidence. But 100% of our best, earnest, energetic attempts to find some reasonable grounds for believing have failed. And all of those failures narrow the possibilities for what that being could be. Any new proposals must navigate around all those corpses, as it were. And they must fit with our rapidly expanding empirical knowledge of reality. The prospects for doing that look more dim than reviving demon possession as an explanation of infections, or of finding new evidence that overturns all of the evidence for evolution.
We are justifiably skeptical about the prospects of yet another proposal for a perpetual motion machine coming though the door. The next applicant comes into the patent office and says, “I know that the existence of a perpetual motion machine flies in the face of all the physics and chemistry that we know. And I know that there have been thousands, or even millions of others, just like me, who insist that they are the first and only ones who ever got it right. But seriously, you’ve got to believe me. I am the one who has finally figured it out. My proposal for a perpetual motion machine really works.” You’ve got a lot of explaining to do to justify our taking you seriously.