In Hawthorne’s Prisoners, I discussed
how John Hawthorne has used and possibly abused an analogy originally presented by Jonathan Weisberg. I say “possibly abused”
because Hawthorne’s version of the analogy doesn’t fully match Weisberg’s. Perhaps Hawthorne only meant to borrow the
general idea and had no intention of misrepresenting Weisberg’s argument.
Based on his 2013 presentation, Hawthorne’s version goes a little like this (in the
2015 version he swaps the blocks around
and uses a higher overall number of prisoners, which has the effect of making
the results more favourable to his pro-theism argument, he also walks away from
the idea of having a prison in which half the inmates are innocent):
There are two cell blocks in a prison from which a prisoner is
about to be released. In one block, A,
there are 99 innocent prisoners and one guilty one. In the other block, B, there are 99 guilty
prisoners and one innocent one.
The decision as to which prisoner is to be released is to be made
by one of two officials, Mr Random, who will just pick a prisoner at random (irrespective
of whether he or she is guilty or not), and Miss Justice, who will only release
a prisoner if that prisoner is innocent.
We don’t know who makes the decision to release the prisoner, and
we don’t know any details regarding how they make their decisions, beyond what
has been revealed.
We do know that the prisoner who is released happens to have been
innocent. What can we say about the
likelihood that Mr Random or Miss Justice released the prisoner?
I have already discussed the ramifications of Hawthorne’s version,
but here I want to point out the differences from Weisberg’s version and
investigate that version a little.
Weisberg’s analogy goes a little like this (I have changed the numbers
to more closely align the analogies, but this does not detract from Weisberg’s
point):
There are two cell blocks in a prison from which a prisoner is to
be released. In one block, A, there are
99 innocent prisoners and one guilty one.
In the other block, B, there are 99 guilty prisoners and one innocent
one.
The released prisoner will be chosen on the basis of either a
lottery or a determination from a judge.
If a judge makes a determination this will result in the release of an
innocent. We have no reason to believe
that the judge cares about the accommodation arrangements of the prisoners.
Suppose we are told only that the prisoner released was from cell
block B. According to Weisberg’s
treatment, this fact militates against a hypothesis that a judge made the selection
(because of the 100 innocent prisoners, only one was housed in that cell
block).
The point made is that despite our not having any reason to
believe that the judge has any preference as to housing arrangements, we can
still glean something from the housing arrangements of the selected prisoner.
The analogies are slightly
different with respect to what they are modelling. In Hawthorne’s case, innocence is life (or “life-permitting”
characteristics of our universe) and Miss Justice is an intelligent
designer. In Weisberg’s discussion,
there is no indication as to whether the prisoner is innocent or not, and it is
only where a prisoner was housed that matters (post facto). That information is analogous to the
stringency of the universe with respect to life – picking the only available
prisoner out of 100 is “stringent” while a choice out of a possible 99 is
“lax”. Weisberg goes on to argue that if
the laws, constants, initial conditions and so on of the universe are stringent
(or fine-tuned) then this may actually be considered as evidence against
a designer.
I previously pointed out that
Hawthorne criticises Weisberg for suggesting that there is “no reason” to
believe that Miss Justice would not use the selection method assumed in his
(Hawthorne’s) version of analogy. I went
on to argue that there actually is a good reason to believe that
she would reject any method which incorporates random chance. Nevertheless, Hawthorne’s criticism fails
because Weisberg specifically mentions “no reason” in the process of setting up
the scenario and the whole point is that despite the fact that the cell block
does not feature in the judge’s decision, the cell block from which the
prisoner is released can contribute to our assessment as to whether the judge
was in charge or not.
As soon as Hawthorne ignores the
stipulation that there is no consideration on the part of the judge with
respect to cell blocks, he’s not talking about Weisberg’s analogy anymore.
---
I believe that Weisberg’s actual argument
aligns quite closely with something I had already planned to argue, or maybe
could be said to support that argument, so I was quite pleased to read his
article on Divine Indifference. I’ll try to sum up that argument:
The “life-permittingness” (my use of the term, not his) of a
universe is limited by the stringency of the laws that pertain to the universe. The more stringent the laws, the less likely
life is to arise, because even small tweaks of the control knobs (which
notionally modify initial conditions and the values of constants) will have
catastrophic consequences. If the laws
were more lax, then a wider range of control settings could result in life.
In other words, the likelihood of life is inversely proportional
to stringency.
A key plank in the design theorist’s fine-tuning argument is that
the conjectured intelligent designer has a preference for life, but neither we nor
they have any reason to believe that an intelligent designer should prefer
stringency over laxity. Therefore, it is
actually more likely, given a preference for life only, that our universe
should be lax rather than stringent. An
intelligently designed universe would be biased against
fine-tuning, so therefore fine-tuning militates against an intelligent
designer.
My argument is less strictly
Bayesian than Weisberg’s, but is also based on relative likelihoods. I thought of it this way: in the history of
humanity, and in the pages of fiction, there have been a wide range of ideas
with respect to how the universe might work.
As we have learnt more, the vast majority of these theories and
hypotheses have fallen away, because they are not consistent with reality. However, this does not mean that, for an
intelligent designer of the sort being postulated by theists, creating a
universe based on some version of these earlier hypotheses would be strictly
impossible.
Let’s start with intelligence
which, for the purposes of this argument, I will correlate with consciousness
and self-awareness and “humanity” (as in the essence of being human as opposed
to being a beast). For the most part, ideas
about intelligence have involved some form of dualism. Prometheus stole fire, for example, and gifted it to humanity,
metaphorically imbuing us with the spark of intelligence. Possibly the most enduring conception of
intelligence is that of the soul, but this is merely one of many stories in
which intelligence (etc) is some additional element or substance that is found
in humans, but not other animals.
Fiction – particularly as seen in animated movie form – and mythology do
not limit this largesse to humans, assigning intelligence to animals, plants, otherwise inanimate
objects (Toy Story) and even emotions (Inside Out) and colours (Hitch-Hiker’s
Guide to the Galaxy). An intelligent
designer could conceivably just plug intelligence into inanimate objects, or
processes (like a waterfall), if it so chose.
If we were to presume that an
intelligent designer was somehow limited to slotting intelligence into living
beings, then there are options as to how these living beings might be
manifested. The traditional Abrahamic
god simply formed a shape out of mud and breathed life into it, while golems
could be animated by giving them a word (literally, written on a piece of
parchment). According to some, life depends
on a sort of field that can apparently be seen as an aura. An intelligent designer could use any one of
a wide range of methods to achieve living beings in its universe, and then
simply plug intelligence into whichever of them it so chose.
But perhaps this intelligent
designer was further limited and needed a sort of chemistry similar to the sort
that we find in our universe. We can
think of chemistry in two ways, firstly as a ruleset and secondly as the
interactions of various elements and compounds.
In terms of a ruleset, the world of gaming and RPGs (role playing games)
in particular gives us examples of how rulesets could otherwise have been set
up in our universe. Rather than leaving
categorisation up to the intelligent beings in its universe, an intelligent
designer could build the categorisation into objects in that universe. Each intelligent being would therefore not be
so much an arrangement of atoms but more of a checklist of attributes and
stats:
(Note that in most computer games,
the ability to tweak attributes and stats is limited. The full range of attributes and stats that
pertain to each character – when unselectables are also considered – is often
far richer than a screenshot like this would imply. And I don’t know what game this was grabbed
from, but many other games give you much more latitude.)
Alternatively, we can think of
chemistry as how elements and compounds interact. In many appeals to fine-tuning, such as by Luke Barnes (and also more recently), much is made of the need for carbon in living
beings. Again, however, an intelligent
designer need not have used fusion in stars to create carbon. It could have simply made a batch of stuff
which had the characteristics of carbon (perhaps by tweaking the stats of a
generic starting element). So, you want
an element that forms organic chains, fine, I’ll bring up the “forms organic
chains” attribute and put a tick in the check box. What else do you want it to do? You want water that floats when it
freezes? Sure, I can create an attribute
for that. There you go, I’ve selected
“forms a lattice on phase change from liquid to solid” and set things so it
starts to come into effect at 4°C.
All of the scenarios so far have
assumed that intelligence needs to be slotted into something, but that is far
from certain. Fiction and mythology
abounds with ideas of incorporeal intelligences – spirits, ghosts and disconnected
souls. An intelligent designer who is
not bound by the rules of this universe could conceivably choose to populate
its universe with such intelligences and dispense with the need for chemistry
altogether, if there is nothing particularly special about life per se. (Within the framework of theism, it is
actually a given that there is nothing special about life per se, since all the
important stuff apparently goes on after the cessation of
life. Some theists could argue that
there is something precluding their intelligent designer from cutting to the
chase, but such theists would be abandoning the notion of omnipotence in the
process.)
Of course, none of these
alternative universes are realistic in terms of our universe. But this fact does not prevent a
super-intelligent, super-powerful intelligent designer, one given the task of
designing a universe from first principles and who therefore has an entirely
free choice as to what sorts of laws will apply, from choosing any method it
likes to create a universe with life or intelligence in it. And there are many more “unrealistic” possibilities
than are to be found within the stringent range asserted by a design theorist
with a fine-tuning fixation.
I think that Weisberg is nodding in
the direction of all these other possibilities, along with universes in which
the initial conditions and fundamental values are not quite as constrained as in
ours (but would nevertheless be recognisable), and classifying them “lax”. If there were a god then, the aspirations of
intelligent design theorists aside, we don’t have any reason to believe that
that god would choose a “stringent” universe over all the other possibilities –
we certainly don’t have any good reasons.
An inherent idea here is that many
of the more “lax” universes would almost certainly stand out as designed
(imagine for example one in which there literally was a Prime Mover and inertia
didn’t apply), meaning that if we lived in such a universe then we’d have no
reason to lack faith in a creator. The
universe we live in, on the other hand, can quite easily be mistaken for a
universe which is not the result of intelligent design and it can be argued
that the nature of universe actually militates against an intelligent designer
(as Weisberg does).
This situation, although it is apparently
not recognised by apologists, apparently leads some to feel obligated to
consider “divine psychology” (which is key to Hawthorne’s argument). But as soon as we start seriously considering
“divine psychology” we must also wonder why, if there were a god, that god
would be going out of its way to pretend that it did not exist – to the extent
that it has selected for stringency, in a universe with an arguably narrow
value range for constants and an apparently precise requirement with respect to
initial conditions, that so accurately mimics a universe with no intelligent
designer. Why did the intelligent
designer not choose a lax set of laws that would give clear evidence as to the
existence of a god?
The mental gymnastics of the sort
performed by Hawthorne while considering divine psychology are only required to
shore up a contention that the god of theism exists despite the wealth of
evidence against the hypothesis. And part
of that negative evidence, when properly thought through as demonstrated by
Weisberg, is the stringency (or “fine-tuning”) of our universe.
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