Richard Dawkins on Viruses of the Mind

I recently came across this article by Richard Dawkins in which he compares faith to a computer virus. I think he makes some interesting points.

Like computer viruses, successful mind viruses will tend to be hard for their victims to detect. If you are the victim of one, the chances are that you won't know it, and may even vigorously deny it. Accepting that a virus might be difficult to detect in your own mind, what tell-tale signs might you look out for? I shall answer by imaging how a medical textbook might describe the typical symptoms of a sufferer (arbitrarily assumed to be male).

1. The patient typically finds himself impelled by some deep, inner conviction that something is true, or right, or virtuous: a conviction that doesn't seem to owe anything to evidence or reason, but which, nevertheless, he feels as totally compelling and convincing. We doctors refer to such a belief as "faith."

2. Patients typically make a positive virtue of faith's being strong and unshakable, in spite of not being based upon evidence. Indeed, they may feel that the less evidence there is, the more virtuous the belief.

3. A related symptom, which a faith-sufferer may also present, is the conviction that ``mystery,'' per se, is a good thing. It is not a virtue to solve mysteries. Rather we should enjoy them, even revel in their insolubility.

4. The sufferer may find himself behaving intolerantly towards vectors of rival faiths, in extreme cases even killing them or advocating their deaths. He may be similarly violent in his disposition towards apostates (people who once held the faith but have renounced it); or towards heretics (people who espouse a different --- often, perhaps significantly, only very slightly different --- version of the faith). He may also feel hostile towards other modes of thought that are potentially inimical to his faith, such as the method of scientific reason which may function rather like a piece of anti-viral software.

5. The patient may notice that the particular convictions that he holds, while having nothing to do with evidence, do seem to owe a great deal to epidemiology. Why, he may wonder, do I hold this set of convictions rather than that set? Is it because I surveyed all the world's faiths and chose the one whose claims seemed most convincing? Almost certainly not. If you have a faith, it is statistically overwhelmingly likely that it is the same faith as your parents and grandparents had.

6. If the patient is one of the rare exceptions who follows a different religion from his parents, the explanation may still be epidemiological. To be sure, it is possible that he dispassionately surveyed the world's faiths and chose the most convincing one. But it is statistically more probable that he has been exposed to a particularly potent infective agent --- a John Wesley, a Jim Jones or a St. Paul. Here we are talking about horizontal transmission, as in measles. Before, the epidemiology was that of vertical transmission, as in Huntington's Chorea.--Richard Dawkins, "Viruses of the Mind," in Dennett and His Critics: Demystifying Mind, ed. Bo Dahlbom (1993), 13-27.

A Defense of Ethical Intuitionism--Part Four

This is the fourth in a series on Ethical Intuitionism (part one, part two, and part three). In my view, moral intuitions are like axioms in mathematics. They are "givens," self-evident facts that serve as a starting point from which other statements are logically derived. One has to start somewhere. One must have certain assumptions that are deemed to be right morally before one can build a superstructure of moral theory. These "starting points," or "axioms," or "intuitions," are apparently something that we born with. We don't have to be taught them, we don't have to defend them, they are universally recognized as true or right. What does this particular theory of morals have to do with my de-conversion from evangelical Christianity? See this post for the answer.

While Christians would argue that these moral intuitions were implanted by God, I think that there is growing evidence that they are a result of evolution. Steven Pinker, Professor of Psychology at Harvard University and formerly a Professor in the Department of Brain and Cognitive Sciences at MIT, argues for this in a New York Times article entitled, "The Moral Instinct" (Jan. 13, 2008).

1. We are born with a "moral grammar."

Pinker refers to Noam Chomsky, professor emeritus of linguistics at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, who argues that:

we are born with a “universal grammar” that forces us to analyze speech in terms of its grammatical structure, with no conscious awareness of the rules in play. By analogy, we are born with a universal moral grammar that forces us to analyze human action in terms of its moral structure, with just as little awareness.

2. This "moral grammar" is present in young children.

Research shows that these instincts are present in very young children (see the work of Paul Bloomof The Infant Cognition Center at Yale University). According to Pinker:

The stirrings of morality emerge early in childhood. Toddlers spontaneously offer toys and help to others and try to comfort people they see in distress. And according to the psychologists Elliot Turiel and Judith Smetana, preschoolers have an inkling of the difference between societal conventions and moral principles. Four-year-olds say that it is not O.K. to wear pajamas to school (a convention) and also not O.K. to hit a little girl for no reason (a moral principle). But when asked whether these actions would be O.K. if the teacher allowed them, most of the children said that wearing pajamas would now be fine but that hitting a little girl would still not be.

3. There is a neurological basis for this "moral grammar."

The instinctive knowledge of basic right and wrong seems to be a result of how a normal human brain functions. Pinker writes:

Though no one has identified genes for morality, there is circumstantial evidence they exist. The character traits called “conscientiousness” and “agreeableness” are far more correlated in identical twins separated at birth (who share their genes but not their environment) than in adoptive siblings raised together (who share their environment but not their genes). People given diagnoses of “antisocial personality disorder” or “psychopathy” show signs of morality blindness from the time they are children. They bully younger children, torture animals, habitually lie and seem incapable of empathy or remorse, often despite normal family backgrounds. Some of these children grow up into the monsters who bilk elderly people out of their savings, rape a succession of women or shoot convenience-store clerks lying on the floor during a robbery.

Though psychopathy probably comes from a genetic predisposition, a milder version can be caused by damage to frontal regions of the brain. The neuroscientists Hanna and Antonio Damasio and their colleagues found that some children who sustain severe injuries to their frontal lobes can grow up into callous and irresponsible adults, despite normal intelligence. They lie, steal, ignore punishment, endanger their own children and can’t think through even the simplest moral dilemmas, like what two people should do if they disagreed on which TV channel to watch or whether a man ought to steal a drug to save his dying wife. The moral sense, then, may be rooted in the design of the normal human brain.

4. Anthropologists have found common moral instincts in virtually all people.

When anthropologists like Richard Shweder and Alan Fiske survey moral concerns across the globe, they find that a few themes keep popping up from amid the diversity. People everywhere, at least in some circumstances and with certain other folks in mind, think it’s bad to harm others and good to help them. They have a sense of fairness: that one should reciprocate favors, reward benefactors and punish cheaters. They value loyalty to a group, sharing and solidarity among its members and conformity to its norms. They believe that it is right to defer to legitimate authorities and to respect people with high status. And they exalt purity, cleanliness and sanctity while loathing defilement, contamination and carnality.

In the next post in this series, I will examine these common moral instincts of mankind more thoroughly.

How Does One Explain a Temporary Loss of Faith in an Evangelical Christian?

I have been thinking some more about the loss of faith (for two days) that Michael Patton described in his post: The Day I Quit Believing in God. I came across another post by Jim Spiegel entitled: To the God Who Might Be There. Spiegel is the author of The Making of An Atheist: How Immorality Leads to Unbelief. (I am tempted to ask Spiegel if his unbelief was due to some immorality in his life but I will not go there).

Spiegel writes:

During my first year of graduate school I went through a brief crisis of faith, largely due to the influence of a particular professor who was especially adamant in his religious skepticism. In fact, you might say he was—pardon the oxymoron—a dogmatic skeptic. After a few weeks in his class I found myself struggling with doubts of my own and entertaining the thought that my Christian commitment was based on a lie. What if, after all, God did not exist? I recall one evening as I went to pray sensing the potential absurdity of what I was about to do—quietly thanking and praising a fictitious deity, and making assorted requests to someone who was not there. The usual feeling of God’s presence, an ineffable intuition that was reliable until then, was gone. What to do? I suppose I could have allowed that feeling, or the lack thereof, to dictate a decision not to pray at all (emphasis mine). But as I sat there I tried to make a rational assessment of the situation. If there really is no God, I wondered, then what harm will it do to pray? At worst, I mutter to myself for a few minutes and perhaps benefit from the meditative discipline involved in the process. On the other hand, if God is real, despite my failure to sense his presence, then he will hear my prayers and perhaps respond to my pleas to make his presence known to me again as before. And perhaps he will reward me by giving me more assurance than ever that he is real since my prayers in that state would be an even greater act of faith than my usual prayers prompted by the confidence that he exists. I’m not sure how lucid this reasoning was, but that was my thought process.

So I prayed. I prayed then and several other times during that period to the God who might be there. And as the days went by, my assurance of God’s existence did return—and yes, stronger than ever. Would that confidence have returned eventually had I ceased praying? I don’t know. But I’m glad I did it, since I believe that not only did God hear those prayers but it was also a good exercise in devotional perseverance.

Note that Spiegel says: The usual feeling of God’s presence, an ineffable intuition that was reliable until then, was gone.

I am intrigued by Spiegel's description of his temporary loss of faith as a feeling that God was no longer present. In the comment section, in response to a question, he elaborated on this "feeling":

As for the “awareness of God,” that is difficult to describe, but I would compare it to the feeling you might have when someone else is in the room when you don’t see or hear them (though at the level of the “numinous”). I would also emphasize that the “feeling” has a moral quality to it, as the awareness of God is closely associated with the “sense of ought,” as Kant would say. And it is also deeply connected to my sense of love and being loved. When I was going through that spell of doubt, I felt a sense of abandonment, I suppose. The assurance I had that I was loved absolutely and that, as Julian of Norwich once said, “all is well, and all will be well,” had faded. But after praying several times these things returned as well as the more direct, though very subtle, personal “perception” of God.

This "awareness of God" as the "feeling that someone else is in the room," which Spiegel describes, seems very unreliable to me. We have all felt at times that there was someone else in the room or in the house when there was not. At seances, due to the suggestive environment, people will claim to feel the presence of a dead person. Is this experience veridical? I don't think so. I have been in church services where due to the emotions, the music, the oratory, or some other phenomena, I have felt what I thought at the time was the "presence of God." Was it really the presence of God? I don't think so now. I think this feeling can be explained on a purely psychological basis. People of other religions (which evangelical Christianity would say are false religions) sometimes have mystical experiences in which they are certain they have "felt" the presence of the divine. Are these experiences genuine? I don't think so and most evangelicals would agree.

I find it interesting also that these "lapses of faith" that both Patton and Spiegel describe came as a result of intellectual arguments against Christianity (Spiegel from a "skeptical Professor" and Patton from a "former Christian"). As they tried to combat this with intellectual arguments in favor of Christianity, their faith did not return.

Spiegel writes:

As I recall, it was only my sense of awareness of God that dissipated during that period, rather than my being convinced that the evidences for God were somehow suddenly lacking. And I recall consciously reminding myself of some of those evidences (the existence of the universe, the presence of living things, consciousness, etc.) in order to combat the loss of my immediate awareness of God. But for whatever reason, at that time I was impervious to the import of the evidences.

Patton says:

My thoughts turned toward good theology and apologetics. I turned to the silver bullets that were normally on automatic pilot, but were strangely absent. So I forced it. I thought to myself “If God is not real, why is there something rather than nothing?” It did not work. Then I went into the prophecies of the Old Testament. How could they be there if God was not real? Finally, I went to the resurrection of Christ. How do I reject that without committing a thousand overrides to my intellect? However, none of them were effective in the slightest.

Why would intellectual arguments cause doubt but counter arguments would not resolve it? Here is my opinion. Over a hundred years ago, William James wrote: belief follows psychological and not logical laws (Essays in Psychical Research). Neuroscience is now confirming James contention. Robert Borton, an M.D. and a Neuroscientist, maintains that belief is more like a feeling than it is a rational deduction. In his book, On Being Certain, he writes: Certainty and similar states of knowing what we know arise out of involuntary brain mechanisms that, like love or anger, function independently of reason (p. xi). In an article in the Scientific American he says: There are two separate aspects of a thought, namely the actual thought, and an independent involuntary assessment of the accuracy of that thought. The former seems to come from the left hemisphere of the brain and the latter from the right hemisphere. Studies by neuroscientists indicate that religious or mystical experiences take place in the right hemisphere (see here). These experiences can be created also by hallucinogenic drugs and organic diseases such as temporal lobe epilepsy (see here and here ).

So, what is my conclusion as it relates to the doubt and loss of faith that evangelical Christians sometimes experience? In my opinion, the left side of the brain is telling the individual that Christianity doesn't make sense, its contradictory, it full of problems, and so on. The right side of the brain usually trumps the left side by the "feeling" that Christianity is true in spite of the problems. For whatever reason, sometimes the right side of the brain fails to give this feeling. It is at those times that the Christian is filled with doubt and uncertainty about the reality of the Christian religion.

Religious Experiences and Brain Science

I find the study of neuroscience fascinating. I believe that it has a lot to offer in providing natural explanations for religious experiences. I am not saying that it disproves the genuineness of a religious experience but, as Darwin's theory of natural selection did with regard to the origin of the species, it provides a way to understand the phenomena without resorting to a supernatural explanation.

In my last post on this subject, someone mentioned the video by Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor, a neuroscientist who experienced a stroke. It seems that it caused her to now have an affinity with eastern religions. Her story is fascinating:





There is also an interesting post at Epiphenom entitled: Religion and the case of the disappearing right-brain. Dr. Tom Rees discusses the findings of a study, published in Brain: A Journal of Neurology, regarding right temporal lobe atrophy.

Rees writes:

"Right temporal lobe atrophy" is a rare condition in which a major part of the right side of the brain simply withers away. You can see a particularly severe case in the picture (the right side of the brain is on the left...).

As you might expect, all these people had some serious psychological problems. But, for people with left-brain atrophy, the problems are obvious. That's because this side of the brain controls speech and (for most people) the dominant hand. You can pretty readily spot somebody with left-brain atrophy.

Right brain atrophy is altogether more subtle, and also weirder. These patients get lost easily. They find it difficult to recognise faces, and they have a variety of behavioural disorders, including disinhibition and obsessions. One patient insisted on having all the light switches in her house painted gold and silver!

And, interestingly, three patients were 'hyper-religious'.

Rees refers to two other studies in which damage to the right hemisphere of the brain resulted in increased religiosity (see here and here).

Another interesting and related subject is the effect of psychedelic drugs, such as mescaline, LSD, psilocybin, and ketamine, on the brain. These drugs seem to create experiences much like mystical religious experiences. Aldous Huxley, was a pioneer in this research. His 1954 book, The Doors of Perception, described his experience on mescaline. He became an advocate for the use of hallucinogenic drugs to broaden one's perception of the world.




Below is a video clip of Christopher Mayhew, a member of the British parliament, actually experiencing the effects of mescaline and describing those effects. Later he recalled his experience as something that took place outside of time and which lasted months instead of minutes. He described it as "heavenly bliss." A team of theologians, psychologists and philosophers were asked to review the film and help the BBC decide whether or not to broadcast it. The conclusion of the team was "No." One of the theologians said that Mayhew had received his mystical experience "on the cheap." Others were concerned that it might promote the abuse of drugs in society.




In the 1960's, Timothy Leary, a Harvard professor, experimented with LSD and advocated its use in order to achieve spiritual awareness. Because of the widespread problems with drug abuse in the 1960's which continues to this day, scientific research on hallucinogenic drugs has been infrequent. That is beginning to change, however, as researchers at Johns Hopkins University are now studying the effects of hallucinogens on the brain. Scientists in Switzerland are also studying the possible benefits that LSD might provide to cancer patients. It seems that with the knowledge that neuroscience now has of how the brain works, the scientific research on these drugs will produce more significant data than such studies in the 50's and 60's did.

Just to be clear, I am not advocating the use of these drugs for recreation, I am advocating research on how these drugs effect the brain and the connection that these effects on the brain have with mystical religious experiences.

Belief in God (right hemisphere) and Theology (left hemisphere)

Research by Michael Persinger, Neuropsychological Bases of God Beliefs (1987), seems to indicate that religious belief and/or religious experiences take place in the right hemisphere of the brain. The left hemisphere which is where the verbal and analytical functions take place attempts to explain the experience. These experiences are often very difficult to describe, in the same way certain non-religious experiences such as falling in love are hard to describe. Sometimes one is not able to put into words what they are experiencing. In 2 Corinthians 12:4, Paul says that there are no words to describe what he experienced when he was caught up to the third heaven. However, the brain seeks an explanation and a framework in which to make sense of the experience. These models or systems in which the experiences are explained, defined, and related to other beliefs are called theological systems. These systems are necessary in order to give meaning to the experience.

C. G. Jung calls initial religious experience Numinosum and maintains that organised religious confessions, rituals and dogmas are secondary. Numinosa, Jung writes, can be so powerful that they will destroy the experiencer if he or she does not have the adequate religious frame to encapsulate the Numinosum. If such a frame is not available, the experiencer, according to Jung, may become mentally deranged (Anne L. C. Runehov, A Neuro-psychological Explanation of Religious Experience).

So, religious belief seems to be based in the right hemisphere and the explanation and rational defense for the belief is based in the left hemisphere. So what happens if the connection between the two hemispheres is cut?

Michael Gazzaniga, founder of the Centers for Cognitive Neuroscience at the University of California, Davis and at Dartmouth College, the Neuroscience Institute, and the Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience, describes in the next two videos what happens when the connection between the two hemispheres is lost.





In the next video, Vilayanur S. Ramachandran, the Director of the Center for Brain and Cognition at the University of California, San Diego, describes a case where in one individual is found both a belief and non-belief in God. The right hemisphere of his brain is a theist and the left one is an atheist.



These studies, of course, do not prove either the existence or non-existence of god(s) but I think they are fascinating. They give us insight into the nature of faith and reason.


Further reading:

Anne L. C. Runehov, Sacred or Neural?: The Potential of Neuroscience to Explain Religious Experience (2007).

R. Joseph, The Right Brain and the Unconscious: Discovering the Stranger Within (1992).

Is Religion Cognitive-Emotional Cheesecake?

Yesterday, I ran a post that included a video by Sam Harris on the dangers of religion. Is religion really dangerous or is it mostly harmless? Paul Thagard calls it Cognitive-Emotional Cheesecake. For most American Christians, that is probably an apt description. But too much cheesecake could also be dangerous to one's health.

On his blog, Thagard writes:

Religion is not innate, but rather a cultural development that we might call "cognitive-emotional cheesecake". I adapt this metaphor from Steven Pinker's claim that music is not innate, but rather amounts to "auditory cheesecake". A preference for cheesecake is not innate, since cheesecake did not exist during the early stages of human development. But preferences for sugar and fat are innate, and cheesecake cleverly combines them in an appealing way. Similarly, I conjecture, religion is appealing because it combines the psychological needs for explanations and emotional reassurance.

He believes man's belief in god(s) is not innate (as in the God Gene or a God-spot in the brain), but rather is due to it's pyschological and emotional appeal.

Another blog, Epiphenom: The Science of Religon and Non-Belief, has a recent post entitled, What's the evidence that anxiety and insecurity turns people to religion?. In the post, the author refers to several scientific studies that show the following increase a person's interest in religion:

1. Being reminded of death.

Ara Norenzayan has shown that subtly reminding people of death makes them say they are more religious. That's probably related to something called 'World View Defence' - when you remind people about death, they tend to grab onto their traditional, cultural values.
Research shows that having a positive view of the afterlife (i.e., heaven or paradise) seems to be good for one's mental health, whereas having a negative view (i.e., hell or annihilation) brings no psychological benefit.

2. Feeling loss of control.

Aaron Kay has shown that making people feel like they are not in control strengthens their belief in a controlling god - in other words, they compensate for lack of control in their own lives by believing in a god that has it all in hand.

3. Dealing with negative life-events.

Kurt Gray has shown that people invoke god as a moral agent to explain negative (but acausal) events. In other words, instead of saying that a major life event happened by chance, one prefers to think that it was caused by an intentional agent, usually god(s).

4. Feeling lonely.

Nicholas Epley has shown that making people feel lonely increases their belief in the supernatural. Many people turn to religion when they feel all alone in the world. You've got a friend in Jesus is very appealing.

5. Feeling anxious.

Researchers from the University of Toronto have shown that religious believers get less 'error-related negativity' (ERN) - a neurological response that's associated with conflict anxiety - when they make mistakes (Religion: Xanax of the People?). Perhaps, Marx was right when he called religion the "Opiate of the Masses." It definitely seems to relieve stress (especially prayer and meditation ).

6. Having financial hardship.

Matt Bradshaw and Chris Ellison have shown that religion can reduce the stress caused by financial hardship.

Andrew Clark found that European Protestants and Catholics are less fearful of unemployment than the non religious.

If these studies are correct, they reveal why religion is so appealing to people. It provides comfort and certainty in a cold, hard world. However, if the benefit provided is really a delusion, is it not dangerous ultimately? Does it not cause one to stop looking for real solutions to life's problems? I think so but it's hard to resist cheesecake.

The Brain and the Meaning of Life

Paul Thagard is a professor of philosophy, with a cross appointment to psychology and computer science, and director of the Computational Epistemology Laboratory at the University of Waterloo. He blogs at Psychology Today.

In a book published this year, The Brain and the Meaning of Life (Princeton University Press), he argues that evidence-based thinking leads us to believe that the mind and the brain are the same entity and that this realization, as it catches on, will revolutionize the way we think about the meaning of life. He writes:

Suppose physics is right that our universe began about fourteen billion years ago in a big bang that produced billions of stars; and suppose biology is right that human beings are just a kind of highly evolved ape. Then our lives cannot have the special, central place in the universe promised by religion based on faith, and by philosophy based on a priori reasoning. Hence it is unsurprising that the Brain Revolution encounters opposition from those who fear its practical as well as its intellectual consequences.

This book aims to show that neural naturalism can serve to satisfy wonder about the nature of mind and reality, and also to alleviate anxiety about the difficulty of life in a vast and apparently purposeless universe. Philosophy and neuropsychology can do little to remove the hardships that people face as their lives develop, with inevitable bouts of failure, rejection, disease, and eventually death. But together philosophy and science can paint a plausible picture of how minds, even ones that are merely brains, can apprehend reality, decide effectively, act morally, and lead meaningful lives enriched by worthwhile goals in the realms of love, work, and play (p. 12).

While most religious people and many nonreligious people hold that the mind (or soul) and the brain are different entities,

most psychologists and neuroscientists are materialists and believe that minds are brains: the mind is what the brain does. General acceptance of this view would amount to the most radical conceptual revolution in the history of human thinking (emphasis mine). Previously, the two most sweeping scientific revolutions were Copernicus's rejection of Ptolemy's view that the earth is the center of the universe, and Darwin's rejection of the religious view that humans were specially created by God. . . . The Brain Revolution now in progress is even more threatening to human's natural desire to think of ourselves as special, for it implies that our treasured thoughts and feelings are just another biological process. Unsurprisingly, even some nonreligious thinkers find disturbing the view that minds are brains, despite the mounting evidence for such identification. Not only immortality but also the highly compelling doctrines of free will and moral responsibility have been tied to the idea of minds as souls. The lure of dualism is powerful (p. 42).

Religion, and especially conservative religion such as Evangelical Christianity, will no doubt oppose the findings of neuroscience on this point as they are still opposing the current findings of geology, physics, and biology as it relates to the age of the earth and the evolution of species. Eventually, though, they will have to surrender and then readjust their theology to deal with the evidence. And the evidence is mounting. Thagard states:

Mind-brain identification follows a long line of theoretical identifications that have marked scientific progress: sounds are waves; combustion is chemical combination with oxygen; water is H2O; heat is motion of molecules; lightning is electrical discharge; light is electromagnetic energy; influenza is a viral infection; and so on (p. 43).

The clever maneuvering, reinterpretation of biblical texts, and adjusting of doctrine by evangelicals to deal with the findings of neuroscience will be interesting to watch.

Neuroscientific Study Shows Believers Put Brain in Neutral

I have recently become fascinated with neuroscience. We are learning so much more about how the brain works literally every day in this new field. A recent study by four Danish scientists, Uffe Schjoedt, Hans Stødkilde-Jørgensen, Armin W. Geertz, Torben E. Lund and Andreas Roepstorff, reveals that devoted religious believers will "switch off" their critical faculties when listening to a religious leader that they trust implicitly. A report of the study, The power of charisma—perceived charisma inhibits the frontal executive network of believers in intercessory prayer, was published in the Oxford Journal, Social Cognitive & Affective Neuroscience (April 2010). I learned of it from a blog I read regularly called: Epiphenom.

Brain imaging was done on a small group of Pentecostal Christians while they were listening to prayers given by three different people. They were told that the prayers would be given by a non-Christian, an "ordinary" Christian and a Charismatic Christian who had a healing ministry. Each person was identified to the group before the praying began. In reality, all three were "ordinary" (I assume they mean non-Pentecostal) Christians.

What the scientists observed was that

specific regions of the pentecostalist's brains became somewhat activated when listening to the prayer from the 'non-believer', but highly deactivated when listening to the prayer from the 'charismatic healer'. The prayer from the ordinary Christian resulted in deactivation too, but on a small scale.

And the regions that were deactivated by the "charismatic healer" were all associated with "executive function" - the part of the mind that evaluates, monitors, and makes decisions. A similar response has been seen in the brains of people undergoing hypnosis - as well as meditation.

In other words, they went into a bit of a trance.

What Schjødt thinks is happening here is that, when we listen someone we trust implicitly, we switch off our critical faculties, and just let what they are saying wash over us. In the words of the researchers, "subjects suspend or 'hand over' their critical faculty to the trusted person."

This is very interesting and I think it may explain why many Christians truly are brainwashed.

In all fairness, I don't think its only Christians who may be guilty of this. I think it is probably a human tendency to "let our guard down" and accept what we hear from those that we know agree with us. This is no doubt true regardless of the ideology involved. In other words, a person who is conservative politically is going to be less critical in listening to another conservative and a liberal will be less critical listening to another liberal.

What does this teach us? I think it shows us that it is imperative to be just as analytical and critical in listening to those with whom we agree as with those with whom we disagree.

Did Paul Hallucinate on the Road to Damascus?--Part Two

In yesterday's post, I summarized some of the latest research on hallucinations as presented by Andre Aleman and Frank Laroi in Hallucinations: The Science of Idiosyncratic Perception (American Psychological Association, 2008). Today, I would like to compare what the book of Acts says about Paul's experience on the road to Damascus to see if a case can be made that Paul may have experienced an hallucination.

Hallucination is defined by Campbell's Psychiatric Dictionary (2004) as a false perception characterized by externalization and a continued belief that the experience is a perception of something outside the self rather than an internal thought or image (p. 312). An illusion is a misinterpretation of some external stimuli. As Aleman and Laroi point out, the line of demarcation between an hallucination and an illusion is not always clear. Often an illusion will lead to an hallucination.

The three accounts of Paul's experience in Acts (9, 22, 26) all say that he saw a bright light in the sky, brighter than the sun, and then he heard a voice. It is conceivable that Paul saw something that was really there in the external world and then heard a voice which was not external but internal. The fact that the accounts all say that his companions also saw the light but did not hear (or understand) the voice would lend credence to this position. What might Paul have seen? Of course it's pure speculation but we know that a super solar flare can increase the brightness of the sun. Referring to a solar flare that took place in 1859, an article on the NASA website says: one super-flare produced enough light to rival the brightness of the sun itself. How large and intense would such a super-flare have to be to be visible by the naked eye? I am not sure but there are reports of phenomena in ancient history that are believed to be solar flares. A less dramatic scenario would be a perceived increase in the brightness of the sun due to the movement of clouds. Sometimes when the sun "peaks out" from behind clouds the sensation is that the sun has become much brighter.

Whatever it was that Paul saw, why would he misinterpret it as an appearance of the resurrected Jesus? The Jewish concept of a resurrected person was of a bright, shining being. Daniel 12:2-3 says:

Multitudes who sleep in the dust of the earth will awake: some to everlasting life, others to shame and everlasting contempt. Those who are wise will shine like the brightness of the heavens, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars for ever and ever (see also Wisdom of Solomon 3:7-9).

All three accounts say that Paul fell to the ground after seeing the bright light. This has led some to conclude that Paul may have had temporal lobe epilepsy (TLE).

In old Ireland, epilepsy was known as 'Saint Paul's disease'. The name points to the centuries-old assumption that the apostle suffered from epilepsy.

Saul's sudden fall, the fact that he first lay motionless on the ground but was then able to get up unaided, led people very early on to suspect that this dramatic incident might have been caused by a grand mal seizure. In more recent times, this opinion has found support from the fact that sight impediment-including temporary blindness lasting from several hours to several days-has been observed as being a symptom or result of an epileptic seizure and has been mentioned in many case reports(German Epilepsy Museum).

An important article in the Journal of Neurology, Neurosurgery, and Psychiatry (1987,50:659-664) by D. Landsborough entitled, "St. Paul and Temporal Lobe Epilepsy," compares Paul's experience to clinical research regarding TLE. The similarities are stunning.

Some attacks began with a flash of light seen in both eyes, followed by a psychic state in which the predominant force was one of intense religious experience, of resounding elation in which he would feel compelled to proclaim the glories of God.

Paul also mentions other experiences besides the Damascus road event. For example, in 2 Corinthians 12:2-4, he recounts:

I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven. Whether it was in the body or out of the body I do not know-God knows. And I know that this man-whether in the body or apart from the body I do not know, but God knows-was caught up to paradise. He heard inexpressible things, things that man is not permitted to tell.

Landsborough comments:

Paul's words "in the body or out of the body-that I do not know" suggest an aura of depersonalisation as described by Williams: the subject "may feel unsubstantial, not there, or dis-embodied. He may say he sees himself outside himself, with a disturbance of the relationship of himself to his environment ..." Paul also "heard sacred secrets which no lips can repeat" suggesting an intensely esoteric, rapturous state associated with an elaborate auditory sensation whose details cannot be recollected. Gowers writes "these psychological auras are often scarcely separable from the higher special sense warnings. The distinct idea of a sentence and perception of its sound may be almost identical in significance".

In the second paragraph of the extract from Paul's Corinthian letter he writes of his "wealth of visions". This might refer to the variety and richness of the one experience, but it seems more likely that he is writing
of a number of experiences similar to the one he has already described, experiences so delectable and ecstatic that he was prone to become over-elated and conceited ("puffed-up").

The fact that Paul apparently had many experiences which he understood as visions and revelations from God (2 Cor. 12:1) lends credence to the theory that he suffered from TLE. As Landsborough states:

The diagnosis of TLE in Paul's case is suggested on the basis of his recorded subjective experience of a single attack (vide supra). Were this an isolated event without recurrences it would be difficult to sustain the diagnosis. But Paul experienced other "visions". His historian Luke writes that in one vision he saw a Macedonian standing before him appealing to him to cross over from Troy to Macedonia to help (Acts 16:9); in another, Jesus speaks words of encouragement to him (Acts 18:9); in another, while praying in Jerusalem, he fell into a trance (Greek: ekstasia) and saw Jesus (Acts 22:17-21). In other writings Paul does not provide details of his "visions and revelations", but it is suggested that some were ictal in origin, and that the one detailed description he gives was not of an isolated event. Others were mental images of his spiritual convictions. Both kinds were of equal spiritual significance for Paul.

In addition, research shows that some people with TLE develop Geschwind syndrome. This is a characteristic personality syndrome consisting of symptoms such as circumstantiality (excessive verbal output), hypergraphia, altered sexuality (usually hyposexuality, meaning a decreased interest), and intensified mental life (deepened cognitive and emotional responses), hyper-religiosity and/or hyper-morality or moral ideas, that is present in some epilepsy patients. All of these symptoms would seem to be present in Paul.

Whether or not Paul had TLE, it is clear that he had the necessary emotional influences that could lead to hallucinations. Aleman and Laroi identify (1) stress, often related to the experience of traumatic events, (2)anxiety, which can be caused by cognitive dissonance, and (3)depression as triggers for hallucinations. Paul certainly was experiencing stress. He had been involved in the persecution and execution of Christians. Many scholars believe he participated in the stoning of Stephen (Acts 7) which could have produced the syndrome known as post-traumatic stress syndrome. He may have been anxious due to the cognitive dissonance created by his Pharisaic theology and what he was hearing and seeing in Christians. The reference in Acts 26 to it being hard "to kick against the goads" might relate to this internal conflict. The evidence is not as good for Paul being depressed but if he was experiencing stress and anxiety as it appears he was, then it would not be surprising for this to also create depression. The presence of these emotional stressors in Paul could be enough to explain why he heard voices which he interpreted as being from Jesus. As Aleman and Laroi show, it would be expected for Paul, based on the culture, to interpret an hallucination as divine revelation.

So, what happened to Paul on the Damascus Road? The fact is that the data in the NT on this experience is so limited, that it's impossible to make any definitive conclusion. It could have been an illusion which led to auditory hallucinations, it could have been a seizure caused by TLE, or it could have been some other phenomena. In any case, a supernatural encounter with a risen Jesus is not required to understand Paul's radical conversion.

Did Paul Hallucinate on the Road to Damascus?--Part One

In I Corinthians 15, Paul says that the risen Jesus appeared to him just like he had appeared to Peter, James, the Twelve and the 500. When did this experience happen and what was it like? It took place on the road to Damascus as Paul was on his way to persecute Christians. He had already been involved in the persecution and execution of Christians in Jerusalem. His experience on the Damascus road is recounted three times in the book of Acts.

Meanwhile, Saul was still breathing out murderous threats against the Lord's disciples. He went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogues in Damascus, so that if he found any there who belonged to the Way, whether men or women, he might take them as prisoners to Jerusalem. As he neared Damascus on his journey, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice say to him, "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" "Who are you, Lord?" Saul asked. "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting," he replied. "Now get up and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do." The men traveling with Saul stood there speechless; they heard the sound but did not see anyone. Saul got up from the ground, but when he opened his eyes he could see nothing. So they led him by the hand into Damascus (Acts 9:1-8, NIV).

And I persecuted the followers of this Way to their death, arresting both men and women and throwing them into prison, as also the high priest and all the Council can testify. I even obtained letters from them to their brothers in Damascus, and went there to bring these people as prisoners to Jerusalem to be punished. "About noon as I came near Damascus, suddenly a bright light from heaven flashed around me. I fell to the ground and heard a voice say to me, 'Saul! Saul! Why do you persecute me?'" 'Who are you, Lord?' I asked." 'I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom you are persecuting,' he replied. My companions saw the light, but they did not understand the voice of him who was speaking to me. " 'What shall I do, Lord?' I asked. " 'Get up,' the Lord said, 'and go into Damascus. There you will be told all that you have been assigned to do.' My companions led me by the hand into Damascus, because the brilliance of the light had blinded me (Acts 22:4-11).

On the authority of the chief priests I put many of the saints in prison, and when they were put to death, I cast my vote against them. Many a time I went from one synagogue to another to have them punished, and I tried to force them to blaspheme. In my obsession against them, I even went to foreign cities to persecute them. On one of these journeys I was going to Damascus with the authority and commission of the chief priests. About noon, O king, as I was on the road, I saw a light from heaven, brighter than the sun, blazing around me and my companions. We all fell to the ground, and I heard a voice saying to me in Aramaic, 'Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? It is hard for you to kick against the goads.' "Then I asked, 'Who are you, Lord?'" 'I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting,' the Lord replied. 'Now get up and stand on your feet. I have appeared to you to appoint you as a servant and as a witness of what you have seen of me and what I will show you. I will rescue you from your own people and from the Gentiles. I am sending you to them to open their eyes and turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God, so that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me.' "So then, King Agrippa, I was not disobedient to the vision from heaven (Acts 26:10-19).

What happened to Paul? Did he hallucinate or did he really encounter the resurrected Jesus?

One of the most recent attempts to bring together all of the relevant research related to hallucinations is Hallucinations: The Science of Idiosyncratic Perception by Andre Aleman and Frank Laroi(American Psychological Association, 2008). They open their book by saying:

Hallucinations are an intriguing psychological phenomenon. A person perceives something: a sound, a voice, an image. However, there is no corresponding source in the outside world. . . . Hallucinations can occur in several medical conditions, including psychiatric disorders, but they can also arise because of the intake of a variety of substances, such as LSD or PCP. Further, hallucinations have also been reported in healthy people from the nonpatient population. The riddle of how hallucinations come about has puzzled clinicians, researchers, and laypeople alike (p. 3).

They provide a number of various definitions of hallucination from the literature including one by Campbell's Psychiatric Dictionary (2004): Hallucination is a false perception characterized by externalization and a continued belief that the experience is a perception of something outside the self rather than an internal thought or image (p. 312).

What is the difference between an illusion and an hallucination? An illusion is a misperception that is based on an existing stimulus, for example, misinterpreting a coat and hat on a coat rack for a man standing in the hall. In contrast, a hallucination is entirely based on internal representations with no corresponding stimulus coming through the senses (p. 18). On the surface, this seems a clear enough distinction. However, often the lines are blurred. The fact that in a large number of individuals hallucinations can be triggered by certain enviromental stimuli already makes this distinction problematic (p. 18). In other words, often some external stimuli will result in an hallucination. The stimuli is misinterpreted (an illusion) and then the brain creates images and sounds which are not really present in the external world (an hallucination).

Is this what happened to Paul on the road to Damascus? Did he see some phenomenon in the sky which he misinterpreted as the risen Jesus and then his brain created sounds that he understood as Jesus speaking to him? It is certainly possible. The latest research reveals the following points which may help us in evaluating Paul's experience.

1. "Normal" people have hallucinations.

Hallucinations occur in "normal" people. In other words, they are not just found in people with psychotic disorders or in substance abusers. They are much more common than one might think among the general population. In 1991, Tien sampled 18,572 people and found 10-15% reporting experiences which could be classified as an hallucination. In 2000, Ohayon studied 13,057 people from three different countries in Europe and found 38.7% reported having experienced an hallucination (pp. 62-63).

As Aleman and Laroi report,

Numerous studies have revealed that hallucinations may occur in a number of populations, including psychiatric patients, non-psychiatric patients, and even normal subjects. These findings question the diagnostic specificity of hallucinations and also challenge the idea that hallucinations are necessarily a sign of mental illness or pathology. Moreover, these findings provide evidence for the so-called "continuum hypothesis of hallucinations," that is, that both clinical and nonclinical hallucinations lie as points on a continuum and do not differ qualitatively from each other (p. 47).

Hallucinations experienced by "normal" people do not differ qualitatively from those induced by psychosis or drugs. Aleman and Laroi state:

Similarities in both clinical and nonclinical groups suggest that hallucinations may lie on a continuum with normal experiences. This line of reasoning, known as the "continuum hypothesis," argues that the main difference between pathological and normal groups is quantitative rather than qualitative (p. 80).

2. Auditory hallucinations are the most common form of hallucination.

Research shows that auditory hallucinations are more common than visual hallucinations. Often the percipient hears a voice commanding him to do something. Command hallucinations may be considered a particular subtype of auditory hallucinations in that the voice is experienced as commanding rather than commenting . . . . Studies have reported that they are relatively common in voice hearers, with between 33% and 74% reporting such activity (p. 37).

3. Emotional factors can lead to hallucinations.

Its not surprising that one's emotions can be a major factor in producing hallucinations. Studies have shown several key emotional issues present in people who experience hallucination.

a) Stress

A study by Gauntlett-Gilbert and Kuipers in 2003 revealed that stress was a major factor in the onset of an hallucination. 85% of their patients reported being under enormous stress prior to their experience. This study also showed that a majority (55%) interpreted their experience as a supernatural event. It also showed that at least with their patients, the hallucinations were not chronic or persistent. Often they stopped in two weeks or less but they nontheless had an impact on patients long after their offset. For example, more than half of the participants reported that visual hallucination affected their beliefs, and in 55% of the cases, the visual hallucination helped underpin a delusion (e.g., "It is Jesus telling me I must kill a man") (p. 39).

In addition, Johns, Hemsley, and Kuipers (2002) found that a majority of non-psychiatric participants had experienced stress when their hallucinations first started and that stress was the most important factor in triggering hallucinations (pp. 66-67).

b) Anxiety

Another major emotional factor that seems to be present in many people who experience an hallucination is anxiety. This has been seen especially in those with posttraumatic stress disorder (p. 50). A traumatic experience, particularly, observing a violent death can be the stressor that leads to an hallucination.

Morrison et al. (1995) argued that the need to attribute intrusive thoughts to an external force is due to motivational factors. The presence of certain intrusive thoughts may lead to negative affect in the subject in the form of anxiety (Bentall, 1990) or congnitive dissonance (Morrison, et al., 1995). According to cognitive dissonance theory (Festinger, 1957), dissonance occurs when two cognitions contradict each other, resulting in an uncomfortable state from which an individual is motivated to escape. Morrison et al. argued that to reduce levels of negative affect, the subject chooses to externalize the intrusive thought, resulting in hallucinations (p. 147).

c) Depression

Severe depression is another factor especially in auditory hallucinations. A psychotically depressed person may hear voices that are mocking and humiliating and that criticize him or her for various failures, shortcomings, and sins (which may be real or imagined). A depressed person may be accused of various wrongdoings and might be further ordered by the voices to "make up" for these by performing acts of self-mutiliation or even suicide (pp. 49-50).

A number of studies indicate that emotional disorders (especially depression and anxiety) are associated with hallucinatory experiences in nonclinical participants (p. 65).

4. Auditory hallucinations are externalizations of inner speech.

As Aleman and Laroi write:

There is a certain consensus in the literature that auditory hallucinations occur when the individual misattributes inner speech to a source that is external or alien to the self. The term "inner speech" refers to the internal dialogue one uses to regulate one's own behavior. This may include commenting to oneself about what is happening or issuing instructions to oneself about what to do (p. 110).

Finally, neuroimaging studies have also shown that auditory hallucinations coincide with the activation of those areas in the brain responsible for the production and perception of speech, which in most people is located in the left hemisphere. Thus, the obserations from behavioral, electrophysiological, and neuroimaging studies all provide strong evidence that inner speech may occur simultaneously with auditory hallucinations and, therefore, that hallucinations relfect the individual's mistaken judgments about the source or location of their inner speech (pp. 111-12).

5. Culture and beliefs influence how one interprets the hallucination.

People will interpret their experience based on their culture and religious beliefs. A study done by Mitchell and Vierkant in 1989 compared hallucinations in patients admitted in the 1930's with those admitted in the 1980's in the same East Texas hospital. They found that the primary sources of the hallucinations in the 1930's were religious in nature (God, the Holy Ghost, spirits), whereas the primary sources of the hallucinations in the 1980's included not only God, devils, and demons but also doctor, scanner, television, and radio (p. 30). In the 30's people typically thought the voices they were hearing were from the spirit world whereas in the 80's they though the voices were coming from the television, radio, or scanner (as well as the spirit world).

More current research has confirmed this conclusion.

Furthermore, a cross-cultural study (Wahass & Kent, 1997) found that whereas patients from the United Kingdom were more likely to use biological and psychological approaches to explain the apparition of their hallucinations, patients from Saudi Arabia were more likely to evoke religious and superstitious causes (p. 31).

The suggestion that source monitoring judgments are influenced by the inherent plausibility of perceived events helps to explain the role of culture in shaping hallucinatory experiences. Bentall (2000) went on to explain that an individual who grows up to adulthood in a society that recognizes the existence of ghosts or that values spiritual experiences is more likely to attribute reality to the image of a deceased relative compared with a person who reaches maturity in a materialistic, scientifically oriented society (p. 120).

In the next post, we will examine the evidence that we have from Paul's life to see if he might have been a good candidate for an hallucination.

Are Religious Experiences Evidence for God?

The particular wing of Christianity that I was a member of for 20 years did not really emphasize mystical experiences. As a matter of fact, we were very critical of Charismatic Christians who claim to experience the supernatural on a regular basis. Our wing emphasized the "born-again" experience as a life-changing experience but even that was not always accompanied with any type of unusual feelings except maybe relief and gratitude. We were more concerned about doctrine and dotting every "i" and crossing every "t" when it came to our theology. We were quick to judge other groups whose doctrines weren't as perfectly aligned with the Bible as we perceived ours to be. We also criticized those Christian groups that seemed to minimize doctrinal purity in favor of personal experiences of the divine.

While the description above is definitely true of certain elements of evangelicalism, especially those with an allegiance to Reformed theology, the fact is that the majority of Christians and the majority of religions seek to experience the divine. The great popularity of "worship music" in the evangelical church, I think, is emblematic of this trend. People will sing the same few words over and over again as they close their eyes and look toward heaven. They are looking to experience "the presence of God." Others meditate and pray in beautiful cathedrals with stained glass windows and inspiring organ music and sit in silence and awe of the majesty of their God. These uplifting emotional experiences are Christianity for many people. They interpret them as proof that they have a real relationship with God and that their faith is real. This sense of transcendency is what draws many people to religion.

Neuroscientists are making some interesting discoveries relative to these "religious experiences," and it has some Christians worried. A recent article in Christianity Today the mouthpiece of evangelical Christianity in America is entitled: "The End of Christianity as We Know It," by Mark Galli. He writes:

This sort of thing makes many a Christian nervous, and for good reason. We live in an age in which religious experience is the centerpiece of faith for many, many Christians. We disdain faith that is mere intellectual assent or empty formality. We want a faith that is authentic, that makes us feel something—in particular, one that enables us to experience God. When we describe the one time in the week when we put ourselves in the presence of God, we talk less and less about "worshipping God" and more about "the worship experience." The charismatic movement, with its emphasis on experiencing the Holy Spirit, has penetrated nearly all churches. This religious mood, which characterizes our era, is epitomized by the title of Henry Blackaby's continuing best seller, Experiencing God.

A decade ago, neuroscientist Andrew Newberg did a series of scans on Buddhists while they were meditating. What he found was fascinating. Bob Holmes in New Scientist Magazine (21 April 2001), reported the following:

The researchers found intense activity in the parts of the brain that regulate attention--a sign of the meditators' deep concentration. But they saw something else, too. During meditation, part of the parietal lobe, towards the top and rear of the brain, was much less active than when the volunteers were merely sitting still. With a thrill, Newberg and d'Aquili realised that this was the exact region of the brain where the distinction between self and other originates.

Broadly speaking, the left-hemisphere side of this region deals with the individual's sense of their own body image, while its right-hemisphere equivalent handles its context--the space and time inhabited by the self. Maybe, the researchers thought, as the meditators developed the feeling of oneness, they gradually cut these areas off from the usual touch and position signals that help create the body image.

"When you look at people in meditation, they really do turn off their sensations to the outside world. Sights and sounds don't disturb them any more. That may be why the parietal lobe gets no input," says Newberg. Deprived of their usual grist, these regions no longer function normally, and the person feels the boundary between self and other begin to dissolve. And as the spatial and temporal context also disappears, the person feels a sense of infinite space and eternity.

More recently, Newberg has repeated the experiment with Franciscan nuns in prayer. The nuns--whose prayer centers on words, rather than images--showed activation of the language areas of the brain. But they, too, shut down the same self regions of the brain that the meditators did as their sense of oneness reached its peak.

This sense of unity with the Universe isn't the only characteristic of intense religious experiences. They also carry a hefty emotional charge, a feeling of awe and deep significance. Neuroscientists generally agree that this sensation originates in a region of the brain distinct from the parietal lobe: the "emotional brain", or limbic system, lying deep within the temporal lobes on the sides of the brain.

Neuroscience can now duplicate the mystical experiences claimed by religious people over the years in two different ways. One is through the use of hallucinogenic drugs such as ketamine and psilocybin. The other is through electrical stimulation of certain parts of the brain.

Karl Jansen, M.D., Ph.D., a is a leading neuroscientist and a member of the Royal College of Psychiatrists. In an article entitled, "Neuroscience, Ketamine, and the Near Death Experience," published in The Near-Death Experience: A Reader (ed. Lee Worth Bailey and Jenny L. Yates) he writes:

There is overwhelming evidence that the mind is produced by the brain. The effects on the mind of adding drugs to the brain, and the religious experiences which sometimes result, provide further evidence (p. 267).

Jansen's research shows that drugs such as ketamine produce out of the body experiences or the sensation of experiencing the divine which are virtually identical to many near death experiences.

Brain scientists have also found that

electrode stimulation of the temporal lobes evokes experiences which become part of the subjective stream of consciousness, embedded into the very fabric of the personality, such that the personality, and even sexual orientation may be altered. Moreover, patients may experience profound visual and auditory hallucinations and even feel as if they have left their bodies and are floating in space or soaring across the heavens (Rhawn Joseph, Neuropsychiatry, Neuropsychology, Clinical Neuroscience , 3rd Edition, chapter 9).

What does this research on how the brain operates tell us about religious experiences? I think it makes clear that there is no reason to suppose there is a supernatural element at all. Thus, another one of the "proofs" for Christianity evaporates.

Is it Possible to be Objective?

In the last post, John Loftus' Outsider Test for Faith was discussed. One of the objections raised against it is the impossibility of being objective. I wanted to explore that question a little more deeply today.

It is true that objective knowledge is not possible for human beings. All of our knowledge is subjective. Since we are subjects, it is obvious that whatever knowledge we have, we obtained as subjects and therefore is subjective. The information we receive is interpreted by us, not only in light of our worldview (set of presuppositions we have about how the world is and how it operates), which is what most objectors to the concept of objectivity have in mind, but also and equally important, in light of our life experiences, including our personal interactions and attachments with other people, our emotional frame of mind when we encounter the new information, psychological factors such as how the interpretation of the information impacts us personally, and our neurophysiological make-up. Neuroscientists are discovering that each one of us is wired somewhat differently. For example, some people are more prone to risk-taking and self-confidence and others are more prone to worry, contemplation, and low self-confidence. So, not only does worldview impact how one interprets the information that one receives but so does sociology, psychology, neurophysiology, as well as many other factors that one may not even be aware of. Each one of us is truly a unique individual.

To complicate matters even further, none of us has complete information. We are limited in our knowledge. We can only understand new information as it relates to information we already possess. So, unless one is omniscient, a perfect and complete interpretation of new data is impossible.

Thus, it might seem that true knowledge is impossible and we should all be like Descartes, doubting everything except that we doubt. I don't believe that kind of ultimate skepticism is demanded. I think we can achieve  some degree of certainty about our knowledge through various checks and balances.

First, we must be aware as much as possible of all the factors mentioned above. We should realize that we are biased, that we are heavily influenced by our culture and by the people we know and respect, and that our emotions and our physiology can impact how we understand the data. While this awareness will not eliminate the subjectivity, it is a better safeguard than to be unaware  of it. If a person knows that he is colorblind, he is more likely to rely on others to pick out what color tie matches his suit. We should consciously attempt to consider alternative viewpoints which don't share our same biases. We should periodically examine our biases (at least the ones we are aware of) and determine if they are justified. If we are politically liberal, we should watch Fox news on occasion  and try to  see things as the conservative does; on the other hand, if we are politically conservative, an occasional dose of  MSNBC might be helpful. We must realize that people on the other side of our particular ideology are not necessarily dumb. They often have a strong intellectual case for their ideology which makes perfect logical sense within their set of assumptions.

Second, we must be aware of our limited information and refrain from attempting to formulate definitive conclusions until more "returns are in." We all remember the erroneous projections that television networks made in the 2000 election because of their premature assessment of the data. Human beings tend to be impatient. We want an answer and we want it now. This can often lead to a wrong interpretation of the information we have. We must be honest about what we don't know. A. N. Whitehead said: Not ignorance, but ignorance of ignorance, is the death of knowledge .

Third, we must be humble and willing to change our minds if another interpretation becomes more plausible. We all want to be right and hate to admit that we were ever wrong. We all have some degree of intellectual pride. We all have some emotional attachment to our beliefs. To forsake one way of thinking and adopt an alternative way for some people is as difficult as divorcing a spouse and remarrying. It is traumatic and we humans don't like trauma.

In view of all of the above, I choose to call myself an agnostic. Robert Burton, a neuroscientist writes:

Recognizing the limits of the mind to asses itself should be sufficient for us to dispense with the faded notion of certainty, yet it doesn't mean that we have to throw up our hands in a pique of postmodern nihilism. We thrive on idealized goals that can't be met. In criticizing the limits of reason and objectivity, I do not wish to suggest that properly conducted scientific studies don't give us a pretty good idea of when something is likely to be correct. To me, "pretty good" is a linguistic statistic that falls somewhere in between "more likely than not" and "beyond a reasonable doubt," yet avoids the pitfalls arising from the belief in complete objectivity (On Being Certain, pp. 175-176).

So I agree with Clarence Darrow, the attorney who defended John Scopes in the famous "Scopes Monkey trial" of 1925:  I do not consider it an insult, but rather a compliment to be called an agnostic. I do not pretend to know where many ignorant men are sure -- that is all that agnosticism means.

The Christian Delusion: Chapter Two--Christian Belief through the Lens of Cognitive Science

Continuing my review of The Christian Delusion, today I explore chapter two: "Christian Belief through the Lens of Cognitive Science," by Dr. Valerie Tarico. Valerie is a psychologist, author and former evangelical Christian. She is a graduate of Wheaton College (Billy Graham's alma mater)  and the author of an interesting book entitled: The Dark Side: How Evangelical Teachings Corrupt Love and Truth.  She has a new book, which I am anxiously anticipating,  coming out in July, called: Trusting Doubt: A Former Evangelical Looks at Old Beliefs in a New Light.  She is currently on a trip throughout Africa and India. You can read about it on her blog.

In The Christian Delusion, Valerie explores what we have learned from neuroscience about faith. She writes:

The more we learn about the hardware and operating systems of the human brain--the more we understand about human information processing--the more we glean bits of insight  into the religious mind. For example:

• We humans are not rational about anything, let alone religion.
• Certainty is a feeling, not proof of knowing. It can fail to materialize even when evidence is enormous, and can manifest itself independently of any real knowledge.
• The structure of thought itself predisposes us to religious thinking. Given how our minds work, certain kinds of religious beliefs are likely and others are impossible.
• The "born again" experience is a natural phenomenon. It is triggered by specific social and emotional factors, which can occur in both religious and secular settings (p. 48).
  

The Evolution of God

How did we get to the concept of God that is currently held by evangelical Christianity?

Of course, they would say it came to us from revelation. God revealed himself to man and then inspired man to write down those revelations in documents which were subsequently identified and collated into a single book--the Bible.

Let's take another approach. We know today from neuroscience that human beings are born with a brain that seeks to identify patterns and purpose. This is sometimes called agency detection, (Pascal Boyer) which is the inclination to look for and attribute intentionality or mind or will to happenings (David Eller, Atheism Advanced, p. 93). Studies by Paul Bloom on infant reactions shows that humans, even very young humans, seem to attribute states of mind to things, including other humans and non-human objects. If there is the slightest bit of intelligible behavior, we tend to perceive intentional behavior, an act of mind or will (Eller, p. 92). It is a very small step to decide that the intentional component, which is not the same as the physical part, can exist separately from it and survive its destruction (Eller, p. 92). This is how the concept of the soul or spirit originated.

The oldest and most universal religious belief seems to be animism. Anthropologists have discovered this belief among primitive peoples the world over. Animism is the belief that many physical objects have an invisible and intelligent life force that animates them. These forces are usually called spirits and they cause certain events to take place. Primitives believed, for example, that when a volcano erupted, it was due to the spirit of the volcano that was agitated about something, usually human behavior. People also tended to believe that the life force or spirit of their ancestors survived death and perhaps hung around influencing affairs on earth. Man began to think it was necessary to try to please these spirits in order to facilitate their help or at least prevent their negative actions against them. This led to ancestor worship, offerings and sacrifices to various spirits, and so on.

As the evolution of belief continued, certain spirits or gods came to be associated with virtually every aspect of life. There were fertility gods, warrior gods, health gods,sea gods, weather gods , and so on. When one was going to take a journey on the sea, it was necessary to seek the favor of the sea god. In order to facilitate a good harvest, the fertility god must be placated. This belief in many gods is called polytheism.

As time went on, and stories were told about these gods, they took on many human characteristics (anthropomorphisms). They were seen as interacting with each other and sometimes fighting each other. There developed a hierarchy among these gods. Some were higher than others and one was usually seen as the most high." Another development was for each individual people group to have a tribal god--a god that was in some sense attached to their group. This was the beginning of monolatry or henotheism. This was the idea that only one god should be worshipped even though there were other gods. This idea seem evident in many passages in the OT. It appears that Moses was a henotheist. As the religion of the Hebrews continued to evolve, they adopted monotheism, the notion that there was really only one true God who was the creator and ruler of the whole earth and all other deities were not real. This one, true god continued to have many human characteristics, for example, emotions like love, anger, and jealousy and the ability to repent or change his mind. But this god also had characteristics and powers that were far above man's. He was immortal, very powerful (not necessarily all powerful), perfectly just or righteous and always faithful (Deut. 32:4). The god of the Hebrews also needed to be placated and thus sacrifices were offered to him.

As Christianity came on the scene and adapted many Hellenistic ideas into their concept of this one true god, he took on perfections--omniscience, omnipotence, omnipresence, and omnibenevolence. While some of these characteristics are seen in the Hebrew scriptures, they tend to be expanded human capabilities not idealized perfections as in Greek thought. This brought us to the concept of god that has become standard in evangelical Christianity (as well as most versions of conservative Christianity). This concept is best defined by Richard Swinburne: There exists necessarily a person without a body (i.e. a spirit) who necessarily is eternal, perfectly free, omnipotent, omniscient , perfectly good, and the creator of all things. (The Existence of God, p. 7). In Christian theology, this god had been once and for all placated through the sacrifice of his own son. No longer was it necessary to offer sacrifices to this god. What was required now was for the follower to offer himself as a living sacrifice to the deity (Romans 12:1-2). Thus, the practice of monasticism with its correlate of celibacy originated.

The description of the Christian god continues to undergo modification because its Hellenized character is in many ways contradictory to the god described in the Hebrew-Christian scriptures as well as contradictory to human reason. For example, problems reconciling this concept of god with human free will and the existence of evil in the world has resulted in a new concept of god sometimes called open theism. Of course, evangelicals, for the most part, oppose any modifications to their description of god; but, nevertheless, it illustrates the continuing evolution of the idea of god.

So, I think the evangelical Christian concept of god can be understood as a natural evolution arising from man's need to ascribe pattern and purpose in nature. Beginning with animism, moving through ancestor worship and the attributing of human characteristics to deities all the way to a single perfect deity.

On Being Certain

How is it that people can be certain of things which don't seem to be true? It's a very interesting question. Over a hundred years ago, William James wrote: belief follows psychological and not logical laws. A single veridical hallucination experienced by one's self or by some friend who tells one all the circumstances has more influence over the mind than the largest calculated probablility either for or against (Essays in Psychical Research).

Recent studies have confirmed James' assertion. Robert Burton, MD is a board-Certified Neurologist and Psychiatrist. He has recently written a book entitled: On Being Certain: Believing You Are Right Even When You're Not.



He gave an interview in Scientific American about the book. In the article he says: There are two separate aspects of a thought, namely the actual thought, and an independent involuntary assessment of the accuracy of that thought .

This is illustrated by the Muller-Lyer optical illusion:





Burton says:

Even when we consciously know and can accurately determine that these two horizontal lines are the same length, we experience the simultaneous disquieting sensation that this thought—the lines are of equal length—is not correct. This isn't a feeling that we can easily overcome through logic and reason; it simply happens to us.

This sensation is a manifestation of a separate category of mental activity—-unconscious calculations as to the accuracy of any given thought. On the positive side, such feelings can vary from a modest sense of being right, such as understanding that Christmas falls on December 25, to a profound a-ha, "Eureka" or sense of a spiritual epiphany. William James referred to the latter—the mystical experience—as "felt knowledge," a mental sensation that isn't a thought, but feels like a thought.

Once we realize that the brain has very powerful inbuilt involuntary mechanisms for assessing unconscious cognitive activity, it is easy to see how it can send into consciousness a message that we know something that we can't presently recall—the modest tip-of-the-tongue feeling. At the other end of the spectrum would be the profound "feeling of knowing" that accompanies unconsciously held beliefs—a major component of the unshakeable attachment to fundamentalist beliefs—both religious and otherwise—such as belief in UFOs or false memories.

Why do people like to be certain? Burton says that just as certain drugs, sex, gambling, and so on, provide a reward to the brain which causes it to want to repeat the action, even so, certainty provides reward. He says:

It is quite likely that the same reward system provides the positive feedback necessary for us to learn and to continue wanting to learn. The pleasure of a thought is what propels us forward; imagine trying to write a novel or engage in a long-term scientific experiment without getting such rewards. Fortunately, the brain has provided us with a wide variety of subjective feelings of reward ranging from hunches, gut feelings, intuitions, suspicions that we are on the right track to a profound sense of certainty and utter conviction. And yes, these feelings are qualitatively as powerful as those involved in sex and gambling. One need only look at the self-satisfied smugness of a "know it all" to suspect that the feeling of certainty can approach the power of addiction.

All human beings seem to feel better if they have certainty about something. The feeling of uncertainty is not pleasant. We seek an explanation. Some psyches seem to have more difficulty dealing with uncertainty than others even leading to a strong sense of frustration or despair. I tend to think that many religious fundamentalists tend to fall within in this category but so would those that are sometimes called fundamentalist atheists . So would some political commentators (especially on Fox and MSNBC) fall within this classification. It will be fascinating to see what further research on this matter discovers. I agree with Burton's conclusion: Only in the absence of certainty can we have open-mindedness, mental flexibility and willingness to contemplate alternative ideas . When one is dogmatically certain he has arrived at the truth, learning has ceased.

Below is a lecture that Burton gave related to his book: