Practical and Evidential Aspects of Rationality: Is it Ever Rational to Believe Beyond the Evidence?

I need to get clearer about the rationality of beliefs versus the rationality of actions. One question is whether it is ever rational to believe something for which one has insufficient evidence. And if it is never rational to believe something for which one has insufficient evidence, then presumably it is also never rational to act upon such a belief. For example, if it irrational to believe in God and post-mortem survival, then presumably it is also irrational to act upon those beliefs, by entering a monastery, say. Or is it? 

W. K. Clifford is famous for his evidentialist thesis that "It is wrong always, everywhere, and for anyone, to believe anything on insufficient evidence." On this way of thinking, someone who fails to apportion belief to evidence violates the ethics of belief, and thereby does something morally wrong. Although Clifford had religious beliefs in his sights, his thesis, by its very wording, applies to every sort of belief, including political beliefs and the belief expressed in the Clifford sentence lately quoted!  I take this as a refutation of Clifford's evidentialist stringency. 

 If I took Clifford seriously I would have to give up most of my beliefs about politics, health, nutrition, economics, history and a crapload of other things.  For example, I believe it is a wise course to restrict my eating of eggs to three per week due to their high cholesterol content.  And that's what I do.  Do I have sufficent evidence for this belief? Not at all.  I certainly don't have evidence that entails the belief in question.  What evidence I have makes it somewhat probable.  But more probable than not?  Not clear!  But to be on the safe side I restrict my intake of high-cholesterol foods.  It's a bit like Pascal's Wager.  What I give up, namely, the pleasures of bacon and eggs for breakfast every morning,  etc. is paltry in comparison to the possible pay-off, namely living  and blogging to a ripe old age.

And then there is a problem  whether Clifford has sufficient evidence for his evidentialist thesis.  It is obvious to me that he doesn't but I'll leave that for the reader to work out. 

It is Good that Osama is Dead, but No Gloating

I was a bit disappointed with Dennis Prager this morning.  He said he was "certain" that bin Laden is in hell.  No one can be (objectively) certain that there even is a hell, let alone that any particular person has landed there.  (Is Prager so en rapport with the divine nature that he understands the exact relation of justice and mercy in God and the exact mechanisms of reward and punishment?) And although there is call for some celebration at the closure this killing brings, I can't approve of Prager's joy at this event.  This attitude of Prager's plays right in the hands of leftists  and pacifists who confuse retributive justice with revenge and oppose capital punishment and the killing of human beings on that ground.

Anyone who doesn't see that capital punishment is precisely what justice demands in certain circumstances is morally obtuse.  I agree with Prager on that.  I also agree with his statement this morning that pacifism is "immoral" though I would withhold his "by definition."  (I've got a nice post on the illicit use  of 'by definition.')  And of course I agree that terrorists need to be hunted down and killed.  But there should be no joy at the killing of any human being no matter who he is.  It would be better to feel sad that we live in a world in which such extreme measures are necessary.

The administration of justice ought to be a dispassionate affair. 

Is Osama bin Laden in Hell?

Jeremy Lott, Osama bin Laden in Hell:

To keep Osama's purported martyrdom from inspiring others, the point needs to be made, loudly and repeatedly, that killing innocent people is not the path to heaven. This will put the US government, and Barack Obama in particular, in an an awkward spot. It is undoubtedly a theological statement and an uncomfortable one at that.

It is uncomfortable because to assert that Osama did not go to heaven is to suggest that he went to hell. That could be a problem, given the current state of America's religious ferment. As the controversy over Rev. Rob Bell's new book has shown us, a great number of religious Americans do not want to believe in eternal damnation.

1.  The notion that there is heaven but no hell smacks of the sort of namby-pamby feel-good liberalism that I feel it my duty to combat.  Of course there may  be none of the following: God, afterlife, post-mortem reward, post-mortem punishment.  But if you accept the first three, then you ought to accept them all. 

2. One reason to believe in some form of punishment after death is that without it, there is no final justice.  There is some justice here below, but not much.  One who "thirsts after justice and righteousness" cannot be satisfied with this world.  Whatever utopia the future may bring, this world's past suffices to condemn it as a vale of injustice.  (This is why leftist activism is no solution at all to the ultimate problems.)  Nothing that happens in the future can redeem the billions who have been raped and crucified and wronged in a thousand ways.  Of course, it may be that this world is "a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."  Life may just be absurd.  But if you do not accept that, if you hold that life has meaning and that moral distinctions have reality, then you may look to God and beyond this life.  Suppose you do.  Then how can you fail to see that justice demands that the evil be punished?  Consider this line of thought:

a. If there is no making-good of the injustices of this life, it is absurd.
b. There is no making-good of the injustices of this life in this life.
c.  Only if there is God and afterlife is there a making-good of the injustices of this life
d.  This life is not absurd.
Therefore
e.  There is a making-good of the injustices of this life in the afterlife, and this requires the punishment/purification of those who committed evil in this life and did not pay for their crimes in this life.

This is not a compelling argument by any means.  But if you are a theist and accept (a)-(d), then you ought to accept the conclusion.

3.  A second reason to believe in some sort of hellish state after death for some is because of free will.  God created man in his image and likeness, and part of what that means is that he created him an autonomous being possessing free will and sensitive to moral distinctions.  In so doing, God limits his own power: he cannot violate the autonomy of man.  So if Sartre or some other rebellious nature freely decides that he would rather exist in separation from God, then God must allow it.  But this separation is what hell is.  So God must allow hell.

4. Is hell eternal separation from God?  Well, if Sartre, say, or any other idolater of his own ego wants to be eternally separated from God, then God must allow it, right?  Like I said, man is free and autonomous, and God can't do anything about that.  But if Stalin, say, repents, how could a good God punish him eternally?   The punishment must fit the crime, and no crime that any human is capable of, even the murdering of millions, deserves eternal punishment.  How do I know that?  By consulting my moral sense, the same moral sense that tells me a god that commands me to murder my innocent son cannot be God.  See Kant on Abraham and Isaac.

There is a response to this of course, and what I just asserted is by no means obvious; but this is a topic for a separate post.

I suppose I am a bit of a theological liberal. Theology must be rationally constrained and constrained by our God-given moral sense. Irrationalism is out.  Fideism is out. No fundamentalism.  No Bibliolatry.  No  inerrantism.  None of the excesses of Protestantism, if excesses they are.  No sola scriptura  or sola fide or, for that matter, extra ecclesiam salus non est.  The latter  is also a Roman Catholic principle.

5.  As I see it, then, justice does not demand an eternal or everlasting hell. (In this popular post I blur the distinction between eternity and everlastingness.)  But free will may.  Again, if Russell or Sartre or Hitchens refuse to submit any authority superior to their own egos, then their own free decision condemns them everlastingly.  Justice does demand, however, some sort of post-mortem purification/punishment.

6.  Will I go directly to heaven when I die?  Of course not (and the same goes for almost all of us.)  Almost all of us need more or less purgation, to even be in a state where we would unequivocally  want to be with God.  If your life has been mainly devoted to piling up pleasure and loot, how can you expect that death will reverse your priorities?   In fact, if you have solely devoted yourself to the pursuit and acquisition of the trinkets and baubles of this world, then punishment for you may well consist in getting them in spades, to your disgust.  If the female ass and the whiskey glass is your summum bonum here below, you may get your heart's desire on the far side.  I develop this idea in A Vision of Hell.

7.  Is Osama bin Laden in hell?  Anyone who claims to know the answer to this is a 'damned' fool.  But not even he (Osama or the fool) deserves eternal separation from God — unless he wants it.  But it is good that the al-Qaeda head  is dead.

Inquiry, Doxastic Equipose, and Ataraxia

Seldom Seen Slim writes,

I'm very happy to see you writing (so well) about the summum bonum.
 
I don't have the text of Sextus at hand to cite you chapter & verse, but I think I recall this correctly.
 
It would be pretty ironic for a skeptic to denigrate inquiry since skeptikos means precisely one who inquires. The skeptic arrives at adoxia (if he does) not by deciding or choosing to walk away from an issue like AGW [anthropogenic global warming], but by inquiring into it assiduously. If he does so, then something begins to happen in his mind as he accumulates many many arguments pro and con. He eventually finds himself in a state of equipoise, as inclined to believe as to disbelieve. Adoxia is the spontaneous product of assiduous inquiry.
 
Slim is alluding to, and taking issue with, the last sentence of Ataraxia and the Impossibility of Living Without Beliefs.  What I said there implies that the Pyrrhonian denigrates inquiry.  Slim rightly points out that the skeptic is by his very nature an inquirer.  And as I myself have said more than once in these pages, doubt is the engine of inquiry.  So my formulation was sloppy.  It is not that the skeptic denigrates inquiry; it is is rather that he denigrates the notion that inquiry will lead to a truth that transcends appearances.
 
The Pyrrhonian skeptic inquires, not to arrive at the truth, but to achieve doxastic equipoise and adoxia, belieflessness.  This in turn is supposed to engender ataraxia.
 
It's a bold conjecture, and, alas, a completely false one, in my experience at least. The more I inquire into an issue, the more likely I am to settle on one side or another, and not find myself floating in tranquil equipoise betwixt them. Maybe your experience is different? In any case, the skeptical remedy for partisan belief is study, study, study. They believe studying something to death will take you to equipoise and ataraxia. Willfully choosing to ignore an issue like AGW, they believe, will not buy you ataraxia at all. You remain disposed to believe or disbelieve according to your prejudices, and only the therapy of inquiry can work these doxastic prejudices out of you.
 
Slim here offers an excellent and accurate summary of The Skeptic Way, which is also the title of a fine book by Benson Mates.
 
One can doubt whether ataraxia is the summum bonum and whether it is achievable in the skeptic manner.  But one thing to me is clear: insight into just how inconclusive are the arguments on both sides of many if not all issues leads to a salutary decrease in dogmatism. 

Direct Reference: On the Intention to Use a Name as Previously Used

Most direct reference theories of proper names would seem to be committed to the following four theses:

1. A proper name denotes, designates, refers to,  its nominatum directly without the mediation of any properties. There is no description or disjunction of descriptions satisfaction of which is necessary for a name to target its nominatum.  Accordingly, ordinary proper names are not definite descriptions in disguise as Russell famously maintained.  The reference of a name is not routed through its sense or any component of its sense.  A name may have a sense, but if it does it won't play a role in determining whether the name has a referent and which referent it is.

2. Proper names are first introduced at a 'baptismal ceremony' in  which an individual is singled out as the name's nominatum.  For example, a black cat wanders into my yard and I dub him 'Max Black.'   Peter Lupu reminds me that names can get attached to objects also by the use of reference-fixing definite descriptions.  

3. The connection established between name and nominatum at the baptism is rigid: once name N is attached to object O, N designates O in every possible world in which O exists.  On the DR theory, then, 'Socrates' designates Socrates even in possible worlds in which Socrates is not the teacher of Plato, the husband of Xanthippe, etc.  This is because the reference of 'Socrates' is not determined by any definite description or disjunction such descriptions.

Indeed, the DR theory has the strange implication that the following is possible: none of the definite descriptions we associate with the use of 'Socrates' is true of him, yet the name refers to him and no one else.  Well, if the sense of the name does not determine reference, what does? What  makes it the case that 'Socrates' designates Socrates? 

4. A speaker S's use of N refers to O only if there is a causal chain extending from S's use of N back to the baptism, a chain with the following two features: (a) each user of N receives the name from an
earlier user until the first user is reached; (b) each user to whom the name is transmitted uses it with the intention of referring to the same object as the previous user.

Problem: How is (1) consistent with (4)? Suppose I first encounter the name 'Uriel Da Costa' in a book by Leo Strauss. If I am to refer to the same man as Strauss referred to, I must use the name with the   intention of doing so. Otherwise I might target some other Uriel Da Costa. It seems to follow that my use of 'Uriel Da Costa' must have associated with it the identifying attribute, same object as was   referred to by Strauss with 'Uriel Da Costa.' But then the reference is not direct, but mediated by this attribute. (4) conflicts with (1).