EVIDENTIALISM, PLANTINGA, AND FAITH AND REASON
(from: Linda Zagzebski, ed., Rational Faith: Catholic Responses to Reformed Epistemology (Notre Dame, 1993)by Patrick Lee
Part 1. How Not To Answer The Evidentialist
Objection To Religious Belief
A. Plantinga's Answer to the Evidentialist Objection
The evidentialist objection to religious belief is:
(1) One ought not to believe a proposition unless one has sufficient evidence for it.
(2) There is not sufficient evidence for religious belief.
(3) Therefore, one ought not to have religious belief.
In a series of very instructive and incisive essays Alvin Plantinga has argued that the correct reply to the evidentialist objection is that sufficient evidence is not needed for the justification of belief in God, because belief in God is a properly basic belief, and a properly basic belief is epistemically warranted in the absence of any evidence whatsoever.
Some theistic apologists have replied to the evidentialist objection that, while sufficient evidence is needed, such evidence is available. Plantinga objects to this answer that it ends up, or tends to end up, basing one's religious belief upon the evidence. And to base one's religious belief upon evidence or arguments is foolhardy, for one's certainty will have to vary according to how the evidence looks at different times, and believing in this way is less than complimentary to God. Referring to Calvin, Plantinga says that believing in God on the basis of argument is "whimsical at best and unlikely to delight the person concerned."
Plantinga argues that not every belief can be accepted on the basis of reasons; some beliefs must be accepted in the absence of reasons. Such beliefs are basic. Of course, not just any belief is properly basic; only beliefs formed in the appropriate circumstances, or under the appropriate conditions, are properly basic. But to the question, what type of circum stances or conditions can confer epistemic warrant? Plantinga declares that particularism, rather than methodism, is the proper reply. That is, one cannot specify in advance a method by which to distinguish warranting circumstances from others. (In his latest writings Plantinga uses the term "warrant" to refer to that feature or relation which makes true belief knowledge, reserving the term "justification" for doing one's epistemic duty, which, of course, he distinguishes from epistemic warrant. I will follow him in this use of the terms.) Rather, one begins with the recognition that particular circumstances or conditions are in fact warranting before trying to determine what general features circumstances must have in order to qualify as providing epistemic warrant. There are various circumstances, such as observing the starry heavens above, experiencing beauty, or experiencing forgiveness, which render belief in God a properly basic belief. Such circumstances are not evidence of God's existence, but are grounds, or circumstances that trigger the disposition, for belief in God.
According to Plantinga, epistemic warrant is a matter of our cognitive faculties functioning properly, that is, in accordance with their cognitive design, and in appropriate circumstances. I come to believe in God, says Plantinga, because God has implanted in me a tendency to believe in him in certain circumstances, and those circumstances occur. So, belief in God is the result of a reliable belief-forming mechanism, operating properly, in appropriate circumstances. Hence it is an epistemically warranted belief. So, no reasons at all are needed to render religious belief warranted.
I think Plantinga is right that religious belief should not be based on arguments, or evidence, or reasons, and for the same reasons Calvin and Plantinga indicate. However, I believe Plantinga's account of epistemic warrant is mistaken and therefore that he has not shown that belief in God is epistemically warranted. I argue here for an internalist constraint upon the types of circumstances which can provide epistemic warrant. With this stricter or narrower view of the requirements for epistemic warrant, I argue that we should concede that the absolute certainty of Christian belief (which I discuss in this paper, instead of just the belief that God exists) does not have epistemic warrant. But I argue that Christian belief is not irrational either, and that it does have moral justification. I argue that for a belief to be morally justified, there must be some evidence for it, evidence in this sense: something of which one is aware and which seems to indicate that the proposition believed is true, or likely to be true. (Thus "evidence", in my use of the term, as distinct from Plantinga's use, need not be propositional, although it must be in one's awareness.) How much evidence is needed or even whether a belief should have more evidence for it than against it to be morally justified, cannot be specified in advance. Rather, how much evidence is needed for a particular act of belief to be morally justified varies according to the other factors--namely, how the belief might impact on other human goods--in the situation. Nevertheless, I will argue that some evidence is needed to insure that one's religious belief is a morally responsible act, or to make it clear to one that one morally ought to believe. Thus, evidence, in the sense mentioned above, has an important, necessary function to perform (other than being the basis) in the act of religious belief.
My objection to Plantinga's account of the epistemic warrant of religious belief concerns his theory of epistemic warrant in general. In brief, his account seems to me too externalist. On his account God implants in me a tendency to believe in him in certain circumstances, say, on observing the starry heavens. Observing the starry heavens is not functioning as evidence for belief in God, but as a "triggering mechanism." More generally, God has arranged it that circumstances C will trigger in me belief p. But C and the content of p need have no particular relation to each other. Plantinga is not saying that in circumstances C God brings it about that I directly experience God himself, albeit vaguely. If I understand him correctly, he is not saying that God himself appears to the believer's consciousness, or is directly experienced, but that the belief in God is occasioned by an experience of some sort. The fact that God implants in me a tendency to believe p in circumstances C and that I am in such circumstances, then, satisfies Plantinga's requirement for epistemic warrant, that is, it is a belief "produced by faculties that are working properly in an appropriate environment". There are two questions here: a de jure one concerning the nature of epistemic warrant; and a factual question, namely, whether God has bestowed such a tendency or inclination in all human beings.
I will address the de jure question. Suppose God did implant in me a tendency to believe in him in circumstances C, and C occurs and I "find myself" (to use Plantinga's expression) believing in God. Do these facts by themselves confer epistemic warrant on my belief? I think not. With respect to my own cognitive apparatus, it is a matter of luck that I have arrived at a true belief, or a belief that has warrant for people generally. I might express my point as follows: on Plantinga's account the sole "epistemic merit", so to speak, lies outside the cognitive agent. What confers warrant on a belief cannot be as extrinsic to the cognitive agent as Plantinga's account of the epistemic warrant of religious belief allows.
Plantinga holds, of course, that not just any belief can be held as basic. One cannot arbitrarily start from beliefs that just happen to suit one's fancy. While basic beliefs do not require evidence, they do require grounds, that is, circumstances which render such beliefs warranted, says Plantinga. A full theory of epistemic warrant would specify restrictions upon the sort of circumstances which could render such beliefs warranted. But concerning our ability to reach such a theory Plantinga is sceptical. I believe, however, that one of the restrictions such a theory would need is that the cognitive agent must be somehow aware of the warranting circumstances.
Yet, a lot is included in the circumstances which render a belief warranted. Some factors in the circumstances are irrelevant. Other factors are essential, that is, without such factors the circumstances would not provide warrant. It seems to me that one must be somehow aware of the essential factors of the warranting circumstances.
This means that one is not epistemically warranted in believing in God from the sole facts that one finds oneself believing in him, God implanted the inclination to believe in him in certain circumstances, and those circumstances obtain. For it seems that the fact that God implanted that inclination in one is essential to the warranting circumstances. So, unless one were aware of the fact that the tendency to form that belief was implanted in one by God (or had some warranted reason to believe that), then the fact that the belief issues from such a tendency would not render that belief epistemically warranted.
Must one also be aware that one's cognitive faculties are functioning properly? And must one be aware that one's cognitive faculties are appropriately attuned to the environment? On Plantinga's account proper functioning of one's cognitive faculties and their attunement to the environment--but not the awareness of these facts--are essential to epistemic warrant. It would seem, then, that on my account the awareness of these conditions or relations would be necessary.
One reply to this problem might be to distinguish between circumstances which provide epistemic warrant on the one hand, and the non-obtaining of epistemic defeaters on the other hand. Clearly, in order to be epistemically warranted in a belief one need not be aware that conditions which would defeat one's evidence do not obtain. Nor need it be the case that in fact such defeaters of one's evidence do not obtain. To be warranted in believing that I see a tree I need not first be warranted in believing, or be aware of in any way, that noone has cleverly constructed tree replicas here. And if someone has in fact built such replicas, and deceived me, my act of belief would still be epistemically warranted, though mistaken. Plantinga holds that that the appropriateness of the environment to one's cognitive faculties is part of epistemic warrant. But one might want to argue that the non-appropriateness of the environment to one's cognitive faculties is an epistemic defeater. Then, it could be argued that one need not be aware of the appropriateness of the environment to one's cognitive apparatus as a prerequisite to epistemic warrant. However, one would then have to admit that noone seems to have a clear-cut criterion by which to distinguish warranting circumstances (which I say one must be somehow aware of) from the non-obtaining of defeaters (of which one need not be aware).
Although that reply is tempting, I think it is incorrect. The correct reply to this problem, I think, is that one is implicitly aware (or seems to be, since one can be mistaken) of the appropriateness of one's cognitive apparatus to the environment, in one's awareness that what one sees or understands is objective. My vision of a tree before me seems to be the revelation of an actual (objective) tree, or the presence of a real tree. So my act of seeing, and thus implicitly, my faculty of seeing, seems to be the sort of act that reveals things as they are. If my act of seeing or my faculty of seeing is not that sort of thing, then my belief that there is a tree before me is not epistemically warranted. But it also seems that in the awareness that seeing is the sort of thing that is revelatory of other things there is implicit the awareness that the act of seeing, and the power or faculty of seeing, are apt to do that in this sort of environment.
Someone might object that perception and memory beliefs are counterexamples to such an internalist view. One might object that in sensation, memory, and other basic epistemic practices, what provides them with epistemic warrant is not something the subject is aware of. In basic epistemic practices, the argument might run, the warranting circumstances just are external to the cognitive agent's perspective or awareness.
However, I do not think that in sensation and in memory- beliefs we have an experience that "triggers" our belief and then we simply believe in accordance with a tendency to believe, and with no "reason", in any sense whatsoever, to believe. In sensation, memory, and so on, the known object itself appears to the knower, and the knower is aware (or seems to be--errors are possible here), of that fact, rather than the knower just "finding himself" having a belief. In sensation, for example, as well as having the sensation, I also intellectually have an insight into the nature of sensation.
I sense X, but I am also aware, or seem to be aware, that sensing X just is X's being present to me. I am aware of this not in a separate propositional awareness; rather, this "second- order" awareness is precisely what occurs in any first-order affirmation. It is part of my awareness that, That tree is tall, or that, That building is over there, or so on. In affirming that That tree is tall, for example, what I am aware of is the objectivity of the tree's being tall, that is, I am aware that the content of my experience or thought is something other than my experience or thought. The notion of truth, in the sense of correspondence or conformity to a distinct reality, is part of what we mean when we affirm or believe. To affirm or believe something is to see one's experiencing or thinking as a recording or receiving reality as it is. In the basic cognitive practices-- beliefs formed directly on the basis of senstion or memory, for example--it is an awareness of the nature of one's experiencing or thinking that moves one to to affirm or believe the relevant proposition.
This is not to say that this second-order awareness is infallible. I seem to myself to be receiving the object itself when I sense; but it remains logically possible that an evil scientist is systematically fooling me, or that I'm actually hallucinating rather than sensing. The point is, that in sensation--and the same with memory, reasoning, and so on--I do not just "find myself with a belief". Rather I do have an awareness (or seem to) of the essential warranting circumstances of those beliefs: I have an awareness, or seem to, that sensation is the presentation of the object itself. Therefore, sensation and memory beliefs do not constitute counterexamples to an internalist account.
This does not mean that I must also be aware of the adequacy or accuracy of the second-order act of awareness, in a third- order act, leading then to an infinite regress. The awareness I am speaking of does not occur in a distinct belief. Rather, it is part of, indeed the essential part of (in the sense of what makes it an act of affirming rather than an act of considering) the original belief. It is a reflexive awareness. One need not be aware of the accuracy of one'e awareness of one's awareness--though I see no reason why one could not if one so desired--in a third-order act, because the objectivity of one's awareness of one's own awareness is not what one is affirming, but rather, the objectivity of one's awareness of a distinct object.
What argument can be presented for such an internalist account? It is difficult to find one that does not beg the question. As Bernard Williams claimed, it just seems, to many at least, that if one discovers that one has no reasons or evidence for a proposition one believed then that just is to cease believing it, or at least causes one to cease believing it. However, that is not so much an argument as an appeal to what one thinks is ideally involved in believing, and it seems that some think evidence, in the sense I described above, is
ideally involved and some do not.
There is, however, an indirect argument. Suppose that I find myself with a belief, which in fact has the features which qualify it has having epistemic warrant according to Plantinga's account. But suppose further that I reflect on this belief I happen to have and ask myself whether I have it as a quirk or it is a belief I ought to retain. In this second-order reflection on my beliefs the chief aim is to determine which beliefs are true or are likely to be true. The features which provide it with epistemic warrant on Plantinga's account could be features I cannot discover in any reasonable amount of time. So, when I discover that, as far as I can tell, this belief might as well be the result of a quirk instead of a reliable cognitive mechanism, I lose confidence in this belief, and, I think we must also say at this point, this belief loses whatever epistemic warrant it previously had. (Of course, if I have reason to believe that I formed this belief by a natural belief-forming mechanism, and I have a trust in my inborne cognitive mechanisms, that is another matter; I'm supposing that nothing like that is occurring in our example.) So, given that when I hold this belief up to scrutiny my main concern should be how this belief is related to reality, to the truth, it follows that if Plantinga's account were right a belief could in one moment have epistemic warrant and yet lose it the next moment with a simple act of doubt. Without evidence--in the sense of something I am aware of which seems to indicate the belief is true or likely to be true--many epistemically warranted beliefs would be such that a doubt directed on them would suffice to destroy whatever epistemic warrant they had before that doubt. But it seems to me that epistemic warrant cannot be that fragile. I would say that in the example we are discussing, before the reflection on my belief, I may not have been doing anything improper (after all, my belief may not have been held with any degree of voluntariness, either direct or indirect--and the propriety, in some sense, of this belief, is perhaps part of what Plantinga has in mind in his externalist account) but the belief was not epistemically warranted, and that's what I discover upon reflection. In other words, if an externalist account such as Plantinga's were correct, then some beliefs would be such that they are epistemically warranted only if they are not reflected on. But that implication cannot be true, therefore the externalist account is mistaken.
Perhaps a more specific example will not belabor the point too much. Let's suppose that God has designed matters, perhaps through the mechanisms of evolution, such that a particular hormone in the blood causes a child to form a belief that her parents care for her, and this belief is generally true and having it is helpful to children's survival. (Of course, we are just ignoring for the moment all the care and nurturing that in the real order cause the child to know that her parents love her. After all, sceptical children might contest the significance of this evidence, and perhaps the child's brothers and sisters even propose disproofs of her parents' love.) One day the child begins to reflect on her beliefs, to determine which should be retained and which should not. (It is important to note, also, that reasonable people do this sort of thing constantly, or frequently.) She discovers that this belief was caused in her by a hormone. Then, she thinks to herself that perhaps this hormone was placed in her by God to produce a true belief, but just as likely, as far as she can tell, the hormone has another purpose and its producing this belief is simply a side-effect, and, perhaps, of no value whatsoever. It seems to me that at this point her belief has lost whatever epistemic warrant it might previously have had. For as far as she can tell this belief is as likely to be false as true, and how these beliefs are related to truth is her focus in this reflection. (Of course, if she then goes further to reflect on the evidence for her parents' love, or the evidence against it, we then have a different example.) Now, I would say that the belief she forms after reflection is a warranted belief. But then it seems to follow that the belief she had prior to the reflection must have lacked epistemic warrant; its lack of epistemic warrant is precisely what she seems to have discovered in the reflection.
My point can be expressed in two ways. First, epistemic warrant cannot be the sort of thing which, for a large class of beliefs, a simple reflection or scrutiny would destroy. And that would be the case if Plantinga's externalist account of epistemic warrant were correct.
Or the point could also be expressed in this way. Epistemic warrant, according to Plantinga, is the proper functioning of our cognitive faculties (when their design is aimed at truth, and in an appropriate environment). But reflecting on one's beliefs is part of proper functioning. And a belief reflected on cannot have epistemic warrant unless it has evidence for it (not necessarily propositional). Thus, proper functioning implies believing through evidence.
I agree that what Plantinga describes as being "epistemically warranted" is a favorable condition: it is better to be in such a condition, or to operate cognitively in such a way, than it is, for example, to suffer from a cognitive malfunction. Indeed, I think that what he describes as epistemic warrant is part of epistemic warrant, and that his clarification of reliabilism to include a teleological component is an important advance. Still, given the reflective nature of believing, I think that to have epistemic warrant one must have some assurance that one's belief is appropriately related to truth. And to have that one must have evidence, in the sense of something one is aware of which seems to indicate that the belief is true or likely to be true.
Thus, I conclude that Plantinga's account of epistemic warrant is mistaken, and that as a consequence one cannot hold that belief in God (or Chiristian belief, which I prefer to discuss in this context) is epistemically warranted on the sole grounds that it is a belief produced by cognitive faculties, functioning properly, designed with an aim toward truth, in an appropriate environment. Thus, I also conclude that Plantinga's answer to evidentialism is not satisfactory.
B. Another Way Not To Reply To Evidentialism
The premises of the evidentialist argument can also be expressed as follows:
(1) One ought to proportion one's beliefs to the evidence one has for those beliefs.
(2) The evidence for religious belief by itself will not warrant firm belief in it.
I agree with Plantinga that (1) should be rejected. But someone might argue that (2) is not correct, that there is evidence for religious belief sufficient for epistemic warrant. Partly what is in question here is: just how good is the case for religious belief, or, specifically, for Christian belief? But there is also a psychological consideration which seems to support the position that there is sufficient evidence for religious belief.
Proponents of this position may argue that they do not find themselves now free to reject their religious belief. And so it may seem to them that their religious belief is not a matter of choice, but that the evidence or their insight into the evidence, determines them to believe. How else explain why I could not right now simply choose to cease believing what the Nicene Creed says, for example?
But I think this view is incorrect. First, however, the position is right in this respect, that one usually cannot self- consciously and directly choose to believe a proposition. That is, one cannot simply and self-consciously will to believe a proposition in the absence of any evidence for it at all. My feelings or moods may move me to believe something, but only if I am not conscious of that causality. Or at least, to the extent that I am conscious of my feeling or mood moving me to believe something, to that extent I cease to have confidence in a belief that perhaps I cannot fully shake. Yet this point does not mean that the will does not have an important role to play in many beliefs. I think we have a tendency or innate propensity to believe upon the awareness of even the slightest degree of evidence. But if the evidence is not overwhelming then one can choose to refrain from believing, precisely by concentrating on the gaps in the total evidence. Hence one cannot directly choose to believe, but one can choose not to refrain from believing and thus to let what evidence there is for a proposition (which may be scant) move one to believe.
Secondly, to say that I am not free now to reverse my belief is not the same as to say, nor does it imply, that it was evidence, much less an assessment of the totality of the evidence, that determined my belief, or that it is the evidence that now determines it. Something other than evidence could determine my act. Moreover, even if I am now unable to cease believing (or begin believing), that does not mean that I am in every sense not free to cease believing (or begin believing). I may be free to do something even though doing it takes time; and even though doing it requires me to do several other things which put me in a position to do that. So, the fact that I may not be able immediately to cease believing provides no evidence at all for the position that in my religious belief the evidence for it--directly or indirectly--determines me to believe.
Thirdly, the principal reason why this position seems to me untrue is simply the character of the evidence and arguments for
Christian belief (I am ignoring other religions for the moment because I do not think there is as much evidence for them as there is for Christianity). I think the "case for Christianity"--the evidence for its being a revelation from God-- is very strong, strong enough to make it the more reasonable position, and even strong enough to be beyond reasonable doubt. Still, I do not think the evidence is of the sort that, even after considering it with an open mind, one is compelled to accept the belief it supports with the absolute certainty with which Christians accept that belief. I think that on purely evidentialist grounds, the verdict would be: Give this a high degree of certainty, but not absolute or unreserved certainty. It does seem that the evidence just by itself is not sufficient to warrant the high degree of certainty which Christianity requires of its adherents.
Part 2. How To Reply To Evidentialism
A. The False Presupposition of the Evidentialist Objection
The evidentialist objection presupposes several claims about what is needed for a belief to be a proper act. Of course the evidentialist objector claims that religious belief is not epistemically warranted. While Plantinga and many other deny this claim, I have argued that we should grant it to the evidentialist, in this sense, that the absolute certainty of Christian belief is not epistemically warranted. But evidentialism also presupposes that one ought not to accept a belief that is not epistemically warranted, in other words, that to accept a belief that is not epistemically warranted is not morally justified. So the heart of the evidentialist argument concerns moral justification.
The evidentialist norm for believing has been expressed in various ways: It is wrong to believe anything upon insufficient evidence. Or: One ought to proportion one's belief in a proposition to the degree of evidence which one has to support that proposition. Or: One ought not to go beyond the evidence in one's acts of believing. (I think the word "evidence" here means roughly what I used it to mean above, namely, something of which one is aware which seems to indicate that a proposition is true or likely to be true, and evidence in this sense need not be propositional.) These ways of expressing it come down to the same thing, for what is meant is that evidence alone should be determinative of what and how one believes. Nothing else should affect one's acts of believing except the relationship between the proposition believed and the evidence one knows that supports it.
However, what evidence is there for this Sola Evidentia position? After all, an act of believing is a moral act, and moral acts typically relate to several human goods rather than just one. Why should this human act be motivated or influenced by only one human good--possession of truth--while there seems nothing morally wrong with other human acts being simultaneously motivated and influenced by several human goods?
An example frequently discussed is a mountain climber who has climbed to a dangerous spot from which he can escape only by jumping across a wide chasm. The evidence just on its own indicates that it is only probable that he will make the jump (I'll discuss the type of case where the available evidence goes against one's belief in a moment). But if he believes with certainty he will make the jump then his chances are greatly increased. It does not seem immoral for him to induce in himself, or to try to induce in himself, the belief that he will make the jump. Such an act does not seem to involve a disrespect or a disregard for the basic good of possession of truth. The type of act involved here is: accepting a proposition with certainty (partly) for the sake of a good which the belief of that proposition, together with its truth, if it turns out to be true, will help or enable one to realize.
Another example, more closely analogous to religious belief, is accepting a marriage proposal. Suppose George proposes marriage to Hilda. He tells Hilda that he loves her, proposes that they set up together a common life, and tells her of things he has done for her--that he has, for example, bought them a house for the home they will make if she says yes. So, Hilda seems to have a choice. She can accept what George says as true and sincere and accept the proposal, or not. She cannot, obviously, prove that his proposal is sincere. Let us suppose George is not a villainous type, that there are signs that he is a good and honest person; in other words, one would likely say his claim is "credible," worthy to be believed. Well, if Hilda decides to accept, it is likely that she will have more certainty in George than the evidence just by itself about him would epistemically warrant. But is there anything morally improper about such belief or faith?
Religious belief is analogous to acceptance of a marriage proposal. Religious belief in the full sense, according to Christians, is believing what God has communicated through the words and deeds of prophets and of Jesus. Revelation is not merely impersonal information or a set of speculative truths. It is a personal communication. It reveals, in part, who God is, his invitation and commitment to personal communion, and many of the things he has done for us. To be sure, there is evidence, or signs of credibility--signs indicating that indeed it is God who is speaking here. Yet the Christian's act of acceptance, and the certainty of that act, are motivated not just by that evidence or "signs", but also by the desire for the personal communion offered. Is such an act morally justified?
Moral justification primarily concerns basic human goods, that is, aspects of human flourishing. In acts of believing the primary good involved--although I will argue not the only good-- is possession of truth, or a grasp upon reality. I believe the basic moral norm can be expressed in this way: In all of one's choices and acts of willing, one ought to respect all basic human goods, including such goods as, human life, aesthetic experience, friendship and society, and so on.
This position on morality is derived from Thomas Aquinas's natural law theory, and has recently been articulated and developed by Germain Grisez, Joseph Boyle and John Finnis. I can briefly clarify this view by contrasting it with consequentialism or utilitarianism. Consequentialism is correct in this sense that moral good is closely linked with the human good or the fulfillment of the whole person. But consequentialism is incorrect in basing morality on the production of goods or benefits rather than directly on how the will is related to human goods. The moral norm is not that we should maximize human goods, which would justify suppressing a particular human good for the sake of the consequences "in the long run." I do not think it morally right to choose to destroy or suppress a human good for the sake of (what one thinks will be) the balance of human goods in general. Morality does depends how one's action is related to human goods, but the important relation is this: one's choice or will should be directed to human goods, and should remain open to all of them. From this basic principle several more specific moral norms follow. For example, one ought not to be deterred from pursuing human goods by mere lethargy or laziness; one ought not to prefer the mere experience or the mere appearance of a good to its reality; and one ought not to choose to destroy, damage, or impede one good for the sake of another. One is not required to pursue all of the basic human goods all of the time, but one is (morally) required to respect them at all times. Perhaps the central question concerning the ethics of belief, then, is: what does respect for the good of possession of truth require?
First, respect for this good seems to require that we pursue it at least sometimes. I would be less than honest if I said I had a love for truth but never made any effort to pursue it.
Secondly, I think respect for this good also requires that we never choose precisely against it, for example, by suppressing truth for the sake of an ulterior end. And, thirdly, respect for the good of possession of truth requires that in any of our actions which could affect this good (in ourselves and in others), we at least take it into account, that is, that we not disregard this good. An example of disregarding the good of possession of truth is: believing in astrology because it makes me feel good, or even, believing in God (or trying to induce belief in God in someone else) solely because one thinks such belief makes people morally better.
Yet believing for the sake of a good other than truth need not include any failure to pursue truth, any suppression of truth, or disrespect for the good of possession of truth. An action that directly bears on one good may be chosen to promote another good without slighting the good the action most directly bears on. Therefore, believing for the sake of a good other than truth need not be immoral.
In sum: (1) religious belief can be motivated by a hope for the realization of a basic human good; (2) religious belief need not include a negative attitude toward or a disregard for any other instance of a human good. From these points it follows that religious belief could be, in the appropriate conditions, a morally good act. More formally:
Every act which does not negate or disregard a basic human good is a morally good act.
Some acts of religious belief do not negate or disregard a basic human good.
Therefore, some acts of religious belief are morally good acts.
Someone might object that my account leads to approving all kinds of irrational acts. Is not the person who believes in astrology because it makes him feel good doing just what I have described, believing for the sake of a good other than truth? Is not irrationality precisely allowing concerns other than that for truth to take over?
In reply, first, saying that believing for the sake of a good other than truth need not involve disrespect for truth does not mean that every believing for the sake of a good other than truth is respectful of truth and morally right. If we reject the evidentialist restriction on how concern for other goods can influence one's actions in relation to truth, it does not follow that we are left no restrictions at all on such influence. Secondly, I have said that religious belief is analogous to an act of accepting a proposition for the sake of a good which the belief, together with the truth of the proposition, will help one realize. If the belief by itself were sufficient to bring about the good one is seeking by believing then it seems that the action would be immoral. Believing in astrology because it makes one feel good, or even, believing in God solely because such a belief makes one more moral, are examples of doing that. If the belief by itself--independently of the belief's truth--were sufficient to bring about the good one hoped for, then one's choice to believe (or choice to do what leads to believing) would include implicitly a willingness or consent to believe falsely. This would violate the basic good of possession of truth. But in the type of act we are discussing there need be no implicit consent to believe falsely. That is, no doubt there are acts of religious belief that do involve a disregard for truth, or insufficient regard for truth, but it is not necessary that every act of religious belief do so.
Thirdly, I believe some degree of evidence is needed in order for the act of belief to be a morally responsible act. I am not sure we can give an explicit criterion for determining how much evidence is needed. But I think some degree of evidence is required. If, for example, the man who proposed marriage to Hilda were known to be a J.R. Ewing type, then it would probably be unreasonable for her to accept his proposal as sincere. The less evidence there is, then I think the more the other factors in the situation must contribute to justifying (morally) a risk with respect to the good of possession of truth.
Fourthly, we must remember that respect for the good of truth requires at all times openness to evidence that may go to support a view opposite the belief. The will to bring it about that I believe p does not excuse suppressing evidence for not-p. For one thing, what looks like evidence for not-p may turn out to be evidence for some other proposition, or it may cause us to understand more fully what it is we are understanding in the proposition p. It is well to remember here that our goal is not simply to believe true propositions and refrain from believing false ones, but to have a cognitive grasp upon the real, or to have as accurate and complete a picture of what the real is as we can. The evidence for not-p may eventually serve to reveal important aspects of the real other than what it first seems to point to. Because of that fact, and also because the evidence itself is part of our possession of truth, it is never morally permissible directly to suppress evidence.
What about believing when the available evidence, or rather the balance of the available evidence, goes the other way? I do not think this is necessarily improper either. One reason why is that the available evidence may be misleading, and I do not see that taking a second-order view, so to speak, and holding that the available evidence must be misleading is necessarily disrespectful of truth. In other words, it is difficult to arrive at many universal rules implied by the respect due the good of possession of truth (but there is at least one exceptionless norm here--the duty not to suppress truth).
But a further point can be added. There are three ways the evidence and the situation could stack up. (1) The evidence and situation might be such that one ought not to believe. (2) It might be such that it is permissible for one to believe, but also permissible for one not to believe. And (3), as I shall argue in more detail in a moment, the evidence and the situation might be such that one positively ought to believe. I think that the more the evidence points in the opposite direction, the less likely it is going to be that I positively ought to believe. In other words, in a situation where the available evidence does point one way, it may be permissible to believe the opposite, but it is not likely that one would be obliged to do so.
In any case, I do not think God has left us in a situation where the available evidence does point in the direction opposite religious belief. In fact there are signs of credibility for God's revelation. Of course, what evidence is available to reasonably intelligent and conscientious inquirers may not be readily available to my next door neighbor, partly because I may be too indifferent to speak to him or her about my belief and partly because my life may fail to manifest any of the splendor of the Christian Faith. As Christians we have a responsibility to help make the Faith credible. Faith, as well as redemption and sanctification, are communal.
My argument so far has been deductive. I have appealed to ethical principles to show that concern for a good other than truth can morally justify certainty. However, a confirming argument can be added: It seems that friendship, any friendship, is a good that can be realized only by going beyond the evidence. One does not have to be a dualist to see that crucial aspects of the person, such as a person's commitments, are not directly seen or experienced by other persons. And yet it is especially with these aspects of the person that one unites oneself in a friendship. In a friendship each friend not only cares for the other for the other's sake, but also in some way chooses, freely accepts, the friendship, i.e., the relationship, itself. This could not be so unless each friend accepted the other's (explicit or implicit) claim to be a friend, the other's claim to care for that friend. But this caring, this resolve to be a friend, is an aspect of the other person that cannot be directly experienced or proved to exist. In other words, reaching out to central aspects of another self, in friendship, requires one to go beyond the evidence, for the simple reason that central aspects of the self are beyond the evidence. One must be willing to accept, without proof, that the other is sincere in his or her offer or claim of friendship.
If this is true, then belief is not a necessary means toward friendship, but a part of it. Friendship is impossible without belief, without accepting something upon insufficient evidence, without an assent (acceptance of a proposition ast true) not proportioned to the evidence. Now, friendship is a morally good thing. Therefore belief, going beyond the evidence, which is part of it, must also be morally permissible. Or, to state the argument differently, if the evidentialist objection against religious belief were effective, it would also show that friendship is immoral, which, I think, we can take to be a reductio ad absurdum.
In sum, according to the evidentialist objection, a belief must be epistemically warranted in order to be morally justified, and the evidence for religious belief is not sufficient to provide epistemic warrant for the degree of certainty characteristic of religious belief. Plantinga denies that evidence is needed for epistemic warrant and argues that belief in God is epistemically warranted in the absence of any evidence whatsoever. Others argue that there is sufficient evidence to render religious belief epistemically warranted. I have sided, however, with those who hold that it is incorrect to assume, as the evidentialists do, that a belief must be epistemically warranted in order to be morally justified. And I argue that concern for a good which the belief plus the belief's truth would help one realize can supplement evidence in order to morally justify certainty.
B. Why Reasons Are Needed For Religious Belief
I have said that evidence is needed for the belief to be reasonable. But one might question this. Why are reasons needed at all for religious belief? Why not just say that concern for a good other than truth can by itself morally justify a belief?
Whenever one acts one ought to be concerned with how one's action is related to the various goods that will be affected by one's action. Epistemic warrant is secondary. The purpose of epistemic warrant is solely to ensure that one is more likely to possess more of the truth than one would if one's beliefs were not epistemically warranted. So, in every act of belief--an action which necessarily bears on the good of possession of truth--one ought to be concerned with how one's action affects the good of possession of truth. Therefore, if one stops and asks oneself whether one's religious belief is a good thing, then one morally ought to examine or consider how that belief is related to the good of possession of truth before one accepts or continues to accept it. That is, one morally ought to consider how likely it is that this belief is true. So if one considered whether one's religious belief is a good thing, but failed to examine how this belief is likely to be related to truth, that is, if one failed to consider the evidence, then one would act without sufficient regard for the good of possession of truth. For this reason, for those who reflect on their religious belief, to believe in the absence of reasons or evidence seems objectively immoral.
What about someone who does not reflect on his religious belief, someone who believes spontaneously, without asking himself whether his religious belief is a good thing--for example, a child? Is such belief objectively immoral or improper? I believe the answer to this question is no, for there does not seem to be any general moral duty to scrutinize every spontaneous choice, and I see no special ground for there being such a duty in the area of choices which which involve how one is related to the good of possession of truth. So, for those who reflect on their religious belief evidence is necessary.
C. How Evidence or Reasons Function In Religious Belief
The main function of evidence or reasons in religious belief is not to show the truth of what is believed--for then faith would not be required. Nor is the main function of reasons even to show the truth of the factual proposition that God has spoken. Rather, the main function of reasons in religious belief is to show the truth of the moral proposition that I ought to believe.
Suppose a young man has just been in a serious motorcycle accident and almost killed. He is lying in the hospital bed with his head bandaged so that he can only see dimly and hear vaguely. Suppose also that the hospital authorities have informed him that his treatment will be discontinued unless he proves himself able to pay the bill, and he cannot do that. Further, the boy was estranged from his family a few years back; he left home, say, after a heated argument with his parents. While he is lying in the hospital bed a man comes into his room, claims to be his brother, and claims to have a message from their father, that the father is in town and would like to visit the boy and receive the boy back into the family.
Since the boy cannnot see or hear well, it is not immediately evident that the person speaking to him really is who he says he is. Maybe, the boy reflects, the man is really a doctor trying to make him feel good before he dies. So, it seems that the boy has a choice; he can believe the claim or not.<22> What should the boy do?
Perhaps he would listen to the alleged brother very carefully. Perhaps he would investigate him and what he says, to determine as well as he could whether he acts like his brother would act, whether he does and says just the kinds of things his brother would say and do. Similarly, people looking into the Christian claim should look at Jesus, his deeds, and his teaching to see whether Jesus does indeed act like a messenger from God, and whether he does and says the things that only a messenger of God would and could do.
The boy might scrutinize the alleged brother's message to see if it is the sort of message his father would give, whether, perhaps, it reveals things only his father would know, whether, that is, it has the marks or signs of really being a message from his father. Likewise, people can investigate Christian teaching and ask whether it has signs of having a divine origin.
Suppose that in the boy's case the evidence is not sufficient to compel the boy's assent. Suppose that the evidence by itself does not warrant absolute certainty, but, say, only a high degree of probability. Nevertheless, at some point there might be enough evidence so that the boy ought to accept the claim. The basic goods of friendship (with his father) and health (his own) could require this; that is, there could be situations in which anyone who has a love for these goods would accept the claim. The boy ought not to demand absolute proof before he accepts the claim made by the (alleged) brother. Were he to do so, this would indicate an ungracious or impious attitude toward his father and perhaps an insufficient regard for his own health.
Similarly, at some point the evidence for the Christian claim might be such that it does not provide epistemic warrant for absolute certainty, but is enough so that one morally ought to accept the proposal as certainly true. Just as in the boy's situation, so here, to demand absolute proof, to demand proof that would be proportionate to the assent asked of one, is lacking in the virtues of gratitude and piety, and perhaps an intelligent concern for one's ultimate welfare. And this shows how evidence or reasons function. They function, not to show with absolute certainty the theoretical proposition that the claim is a fact, but to show the moral proposition that I ought to believe. Without such reasons or signs of credibility it may still be permissible to believe. But it seems that reasons or signs of credibility are needed to put one in a situation where one morally ought to believe.
It is worth remembering that someone may have reasons for believing something without being able to articulate those reasons. The reasons for holding that God has indeed spoken, the signs of credibility, need not be the same as what one may read in an apologetics book. The sublimity and evident sanctity of Christian doctrine, of the liturgy, and of the Church (or members of the Church), these are signs indicating that the gospel is God's message and that the Church has a divine origin and guidance.
One's ability to see this sublimity or more-than-human quality is aided, or perhaps in most cases, made possible, by divine help, i.e., divine grace. The recognition of beauty and the recognition of generosity in other people require an ability or "sense" on the part of the subject. An art critic sees beauty in a painting where others without his "aesthetic sense" will see only paint on a canvas. Someone who has no generosity himself is typically unable to see generosity in others, so that such a person continually asks, "What's that person's angle?" The beauty and generosity are really there, only they require an ability or sense on the part of the subject to be recognized. In a similar way, the presence of the Holy Spirit in a human person enables her to recognize the sublime and the holy, or really, the divine, in the words and deeds of the prophets and of Jesus, handed on to us in the Church. Thus, of the Good Shepherd, Jesus says that he calls his own sheep by name and the sheep hear his voice, "And the sheep follow him because they know his voice. But a stranger they will not follow, but will flee from him because they do not know the voice of strangers." <Jn, 10:4-6>
In sum, I have argued that Plantinga's account of epistemic warrant is mistaken or incomplete, and have argued for an internalist constraint upon the circumstances that provide epistemic warrant. Second, with this stricter or narrower view of epistemic warrant, I argued that we should probably grant that the certainty of Christian belief does not have epistemic warrant (although it is not irrational either). Third, I argued that the certainty of Christian belief is morally justified, because it is morally proper to believe partly for the sake of a good other than possession of truth, in the case of Christian belief, for the sake of the personal communion offered. Fourth, I argued that to be morally justified, the religious belief of reflective believers must have evidence or reasons, for only then does such an act of belief have the morally required regard for the basic good of possession of truth. And, fifth, I argued that the function that reasons or evidence play in a reasonable act of faith is to make it clear to oneself that one's act of belief is a morally responsible act, or that one morally ought to believe.