EVIDENTIALISM, PLANTINGA, AND FAITH AND
REASON
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. . . .
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.[1] 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.[2] 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.[3] 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.[4] 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.[5]
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.
[1] See
Germain Grisez, The Way of the Lord Jesus, I, Christian Moral Principles (Chicago:
Franciscan Herald Press, 1983, chapter
20.
There is a disanalogy with cases of human belief or faith which troubles some people. In other cases of belief or faith it is usually obvious that the one to
be believed is indeed speaking, while
what is not obvious is that the one believed is
honest or knowledgeable. In religious belief it is just the reverse‑‑what is not obvious is
that the one to be believed is
speaking. It is not God's
veracity that nonbelievers principally
doubt, but that God has spoken at all.
Nevertheless, in both cases one's
act of believing goes beyond the evidence:
in religious belief one's
certainty goes beyond the evidence
regarding whether God has spoken, but in belief of a human person one's belief goes beyond the evidence
regarding the veracity of the
speaker. So this disanalogy between
religious belief and most other
instances of belief cannot reasonably be a basis for deriding religious belief. In any case, we are primarily interested in the act of accepting that God
has spoken, even though the believer
accepts both that God has spoken and that
what he says is true in a single act.
For more on this, see my
"Reasons and Religious Belief," Faith and Philosophy, 6
(1989), pp. 19‑34.
[2] The situation is more
complicated than what I have just said
indicates. One is accepting the
Christian claim not only for the sake of
personal communion offered but also for the sake of possessing truth. Everyone knows that there is a sense in which to understand Christianity well one
must live it. If Christianity is true then there is a whole
world of truth that can be delved into
and appreciated only by someone who lives the
Christian life. Hence the good of
possession of truth itself can call for
assenting to propositions with more certainty than the evidence by itself would seem to
warrant. It is as if there were a hypothesis that could only be tested by
someone who believed in it 100
percent. Suppose to test a hypothesis in
biology one had to live many years on an
isolated island, but that to survive on
the island one had to believe the hypothesis with absolute certainty.
The analogy is not exact, but the point is that there is, as it were, a short‑run view of
possession of truth and a long‑run
view. One's commitment to Christianity
is motivated not only by the desire for
the personal communion offered but also by
the desire for truth, truth not in the narrow sense of this or that proposition conforming to reality, but
truth in the sense of as deep and
complete and true a picture of reality as possible.
[3] Cf.
Germain Grisez and Russell Shaw, Beyond the New Morality, 3rd edition (Notre Dame: Notre
Dame University, 1988); John Finnis,
Joseph Boyle, Germain Grisez, Nuclear Deterrence, Morality and Realism (Oxford: Claredon,
1987), pp. 175‑197.
[4] Perhaps the ethics of
belief can be clarified by comparing it
with the ethics of sex, although of course there are also important differences. The sexual power is naturally oriented
to the procreative good, while the
cognitive power is naturally oriented to
the possession of truth. But just as it
does not follow that the sexual power
must be used only for procreation
(noone argues this) so also it does not follow that one's cognitive acts, one's acts of believing, must
be influenced only by the goal of
truth. What follows is that all of the
basic goods that could be affected by
the action carrying out one's choice
must be respected. Just as one ought not
to negate the
procreative good, so one ought not to negate the good of possession of truth.
But just as the choice to
engage in sex for the sake of expressing
marital communion is morally good if it is a choice that does not disregard the procreative good;
so it would seem that the choice to
believe for the sake of a basic good which the
belief, together with the truth of the belief, will help one realize, could in some instances be morally
good, i.e., in those instances where
truth is not disregarded. In neither
case does there seem to be a choice to
impede or destroy an instance of a basic
good; in neither case does it seem necessary that one disregard an instance of a basic good. The
two cases seem to be similar in this
respect.
Yet there is this significant
disanalogy. In sex, failing to procreate is only not realizing a good
that could have been realized. With the intellect, if one's belief fails to
attain truth, it is false, which means
one's cognitive grasp upon reality is
harmed (in an important matter) instead of simply not being realized. For this reason, while one need not intend
or try to bring it about in every sexual
act that conception result (it is
enought that one's sexual act be open to conception, I would argue); in every act of belief one
ought to hope, and if necessary make an
effort to bring it about, that one's belief is
true. Still, in both cases there
seems to nothing wrong in one's act
being influenced simultaneously by more than one good.
[5] I
believe it is easy to see in such a case how someone can have a choice bearing on his belief even
though it is not a bare choice to
believe or to disbelieve. It is easy to
imagine someone in the situation
described having a choice to let the
evidence he sees move him to assent (or dissent), to continue the inquiry, or to dismiss the claim on the
grounds of lack of evidence.