One of the issues we will need to consider at some point in this course is the nature and evidential value of religious experinece. Plantinga's essay is not directly concerned with that question. But it is not irrelevant to it either, as I hope will become clear. If Planitnga is right, we may need to broaden our concept of religious experience quite a bit.
In any case, Plantinga's emphasis is not so much on the relationship of belief in God to experience, as on the role which argument and evidence need -- or need not -- play in religious belief. However, we will see that there is a clear connection with issues about experience.
It is very common for people to hold that belief in God is irrational or improper or in some other way open to criticism if it is not based on evidence. What "based on evidence" means here is inferred from other statements, which serve as the evidence. The idea is that belief in God requires some sort of justification or argument -- that it is not the sort of thing that one could simply accept. This is the idea that Plantinga rejects. Plantinga's view is that belief in God -- or more accurately, some even more specific religious beliefs -- is properly basic.
You might think that all beliefs require evidence, and that belief in God could hardly be an exception. However, this can't be right, given how "evidence" is understood here. Suppose, for example, that I believe I have a headache. What is my "evidence" for this belief? I don't look for some other statements that seem even more basic and then infer that I have a headache from those other statements.
You might reply: the evidence is the pain I feel in my head. But here there is a possibility of misunderstanding. If I didn't feel pain in my head, I wouldn't believe I had a headache; all will agree on that. But I don't in any way reason from the belief that I am feeling pain in my head to the belief that I have a headache. As Plantinga would put it, the belief that I have a headache is grounded in my experience of pain, but this experience of pain does not provide evidence in the technical sense that epistemologists usually rely on.
So not all beliefs are based on evidence; some are basic. And this, Plantinga points out, is something that all parties to the dispute over the status of belief in God will agree. No epistemologist (i.e.., philosopher concerned with the theory of knowledge) would claim otherwise. But many would claim that only certain special kinds of beliefs are properly basic. These epistemologists would go on to insist that all other beliefs must be grounded in these "properly basic" beliefs
This sort of view is what Plantinga calls classical foundationalism. "Foundationalism" in theory of knowledge is the view that knowledge has a structure rather like a well-made house. Some beliefs are at the foundation; all other beliefs rest on those. And the classical foundationalist has a very restricted notion of what can count as basic.
Now it is important to understand: being a foundationalist is one thing; being an atheist is another. The mere fact that someone agrees that only certain kinds of beliefs are properly basic does not tell us what they will think about God's existence. They may believe that one can assemble the right sort of evidence for belief in God from basic beliefs, or they may not. So Plantinga's disagreement is not about theism as such, but about how theism must be justified.
We might begin by asking what sorts of beliefs could reasonably be seen as basic. We would surely put such things as "1 + 2 = 3" in this category; we would not put the belief that 536 * 358 = 191888 in this category. The belief -- when sincerely held -- that I have a headache would count for most epistemologists. Other cases are trickier. What about the belief that there is a computer on my desk? Some epistemologists would say this isn't basic enough. What is really basic is the belief that I am having certain sorts of experiences -- experiences we might describe as "computer-experiences" for short. But -- these epistemologists would say -- since I could be having these experiences even if there were no computer there -- even if I am dreaming or hallucinating, for example -- the belief that the physical object itself is there is not basic. This is an extreme sort of foundationalism. It is one that requires all basic beliefs to be incorrigible -- that is, to be incapable of error. Although Plantinga doesn't discuss the point, we could add that this sort of foundationalism has fallen out of favor, and for good reason. Why would anyone say that only incorrigible beliefs require no justification or evidence? Almost certainly because they have in mind some sort of project in the style of Descartes according to which all other knowledge will somehow be justified via such propositions. But what most philosophers concluded decades ago is that the set of incorrigible propositions forms a very thin gruel. In particular, if we think that only such things as self-evident statements (e.g., "large birds are birds") or statements about immediate experience (.e.g, "I seem to be seeing a computer" can be basic, then we will have a very hard time justifying even such ordinary bits of knowledge as the knowledge that there are people or trees or stars. Largely for that reason, many foundationalists have a broader criterion. They accept as basic straightforward and ordinary perceptual claims. For example, they would permit me to believe that there is a computer in front of me when I (seem to) see one.
All that is context and background to Plantinga's discussion. His claim is twofold: (a) all the criteria that foundationalists have offered thus far are themselves arbitrary or worse, and (b) the theist is within his or her rights in taking belief in God to be properly basic.
On the first point: the usual criteria that foundationalists give -- whether in terms of incorrigible beliefs, or ordinary perception or whatever -- have an odd property: they leave foundationalism itself unjustified. The foundationalist says: only beliefs that fit such-and-such a description are properly basic. But how does he know that? It is hardly a properly basic belief itself.
Plantinga thinks that some forms of foundationalism become incoherent when they try to deal with this issue. More generally, he is skeptical that any criterion can be stated in advance of actually looking at examples of beliefs that seem properly basic. But, as we will see, to admit this is to admit a great deal.
Now let us bring this general discussion around to the case of belief in God. Plantinga notes that some have objected: if you have no evidence for the existence of God, belief in God will be groundless. However, Plantinga thinks that if this sort of claim were applied even-handedly, it would lead to very peculiar results. He asks us to consider three sorts examples, corresponding to three kinds of beliefs. 1. I see a tree. -- a perceptual belief 2. I had breakfast this morning. -- a memory belief 3. That person is angry. -- a belief about someone else's mental states. These sorts of beliefs are commonly held to be basic. When we have certain sorts of experiences, we form such beliefs. The experiences are the grounds for the beliefs, but they are not evidence. Why not? Because we do not first note that we are having a certain sort of experience and then reason to the conclusion that, for example, we had breakfast this morning. We don't even do this unconsciously, one suspects. We simply have the experience and form the belief. I have what I described as a memory of having breakfast. That is what would prompt me to say "yes" if someone asked me if I believe I had breakfast. I see someone acting in the way that we might describe as "displaying typical pain behavior." I don't reason form, this to the conclusion that they are in pain. I simply believe that they are in pain. Indeed, it would not be too much of a stretch to say that I see that they are in pain.
All of these are cases of properly basic beliefs. In each case, there is some sort of circumstance or condition that makes the believer justified in taking the belief as basic. The condition or circumstance will vary with the sort of belief involved. For the belief that I am seeing a tree, it will include certain sorts of perceptual experiences, but will probably include a great deal more that is very hard to articulate. For example, it will include certain background claims. If I happen to be wearing rose-colored glasses, the fact that something looks red will not be good grounds for believing that it is red. Spelling all of this out would no doubt be very complicated. But even if we can't ever spell it out, we are quite justified, typically, in taking beliefs such as "I am seeing a tree" as basic -- as not calling for justification and evidence.
Plantinga points out: such thinkers as Calvin ("the Reformers") took certain claims about God to be basic. For example this flower was created by God or God disapproves of what I've done or God has forgiven me. The Reformers (a reference to a certain movement within the reformation out of which, among other things, the so-called "reformed" churches grew.) Certain experiences and circumstances "call forth" such beliefs. The Reformers offered an explanation for this: God has implanted in us a disposition to form such beliefs in certain circumstances. But note very carefully: this is not the justification for the beliefs.
Compare: there is a very complicated story involving light and matter and eyes and the brain that explains why I come to believe that I am seeing a tree when I have certain sorts of experiences. The story is complicated, and it involves a good deal of theory. In fact, we may not have the story entirely right. But even if we know nothing about the story, we are still justified in taking beliefs such as "I am seeing a tree" as basic in the obvious sorts of circumstances. The Reformers -- and Plantinga -- would say the same abut such beliefs as "God is speaking to me," formed in response to reading the Bible.
Now Plantinga notes: these propositions are much more specific than "God exists." But from them to the conclusion that God exists is so short a step that there is no harm in saying that belief in God is itself properly basic, so long as we recognize that this is a bit loose. Compare: we believe that there are physical objects. We believe that the world has existed for a very long time. We believe that other people have feelings. The truly basic beliefs are such things as the three examples Plantinga gave earlier. But if I am really seeing a tree, then there really are physical objects; if I really had breakfast, then the world has existed for longer than five minutes; if John really is in pain, then other people really do have feelings. We take such general beliefs as "there are physical objects" to be close enough to basic as makes no nevermind. Plantinga (and the Reformers) are saying the same thing abut belief in God.
So if Plantinga is right, belief in God is not groundless, but it comes very close to being basic. And certain more specific beliefs about God, from which God's existence follows trivially, are basic.
But now there is another and seemingly more disturbing objection. If belief in God is thus basic, why isn't belief in just anything basic? Why not belief in astrology? Or magic? Or The Great Pumpkin?
Plantinga asks why this should be. He rejects the criterion that foundationalists usually offer for what is basic -- incorrigibility, for example -- but so what? That doesn't mean that just anything counts as basic. And he doesn't offer a theory of what is properly basic, but then no such theory is generally accepted; all are controversial.
Indeed, we need to ask: where do criteria for what is properly basic come from/ Plantinga's answer is that they must come form the examples -- we must reason form the ground up. Beliefs such as "I am seeing a tree" are paradigms of properly basic beliefs. Beliefs such as "The Great Pumpkin flies over the fields every Hallowe'en" are paradigms of things that are not properly basic. Some people will no doubt refuse to accept other people's examples, however. The believer will see certain sorts of statements such as "God created the universe" as basic. Others will disagree. But the believer has no reason to cave in just because atheists disagree.
Notice that Plantinga's argument is, in a sense, a rearguard action. He says: believers take certain claims about God as basic. There is no good objection to their doing so. In particular, objections form foundationalism or from the fact that not everyone agrees, are not good objections. He insists that the believer has no special burden of proof here. He has given his examples, believers will likely concur with them, and if you don't, that isn't his problem. Still, we can probe a bit.
One of the things that might make statements about God inappropriate candidates for being basic beliefs is that they are so controversial. It is hard to see how statements that are hotly disputed by perfectly reasonable people could count as basic.
I think this is a troubling objection, but I'm not sure it is fatal. Until relatively recently, by far most people did believe in God, and did take beliefs abut God to be basic. Furthermore, it isn't all that clear how much has really changed. Many objections to belief in God have either been around for a very long time (e.g., the argument form evil) or else are based on science. But the religions have always recognized evil as a problem. Their attitude has simply been that it is not so much an objection against belief as a problem to be worked out form the inside -- as a theological issue, if you will. And objections from science are not always to the point, since it is not really clear that there is a conflict between science and theism. There may be a conflict between science and very specific sorts of theological claims; for example, it is hard to see how belief in special creation of each separate living kind can be reconciled with science. But special creation is not an essential part of religion according to most believers.
Still, some of Plantinga's examples are not without problems. Take, for example. "God created this flower." The plain fact of the matter is that this flower grew from a seed in the dirt. If by saying "God created this flower" we mean something like what we mean when we say "Michaelangelo created the Pieta," then we would seem to be saying something that is just plain false.
We have seen this sort of problem before in considering Flew's parable. Believers make claims that seem not just lacking evidence, but actually to have evidence against them. Let's look at this situation more carefully. If I offer something as a properly basic belief and it fails to fit some general criterion for basic beliefs, we might say "SO much the worse for the criterion." But if I am saying that a belief is properly basic, I am saying that it needs no evidence. And if I say that a belief is not in need of evidence, it would be very hard for anyone to take me seriously if evidence was produced that my belief was wrong.
Here I am making a distinction between evidence and general philosophical argument. Skeptics have argued -- powerfully and forcefully -- that we are not entitled to believe that there is a physical world, for example. But their arguments are general and abstract. They rest on premises that are, at the end of the day, much more doubtful than the claim that I am now seeing a computer. On the other hand, my belief that the tree outside my window grew from a seed is uncontroversial and seems to conflict with the claim that God created it.
Here the believer will object: when I say that God created the flower, I am not saying that God got down His/Her hands and knees and put it together piece by piece.
To which the reply would seem to be: "Fair enough; what are you saying?"
The believer might reply that God created the universe and all of its laws. The non-believer will ask what that means. The believer is likely to respond that s/he can't begin to provide any details, and on it will go.
Where does this leave us? I think it is correct to say -- however vexing this may be -- that religious statements don't simply have the sort of meaning that a non-believer would take them to have when reading them "literally." One way that this has been put is to say that religious language is part of the religious "form of life," and that one cannot expect to understand this language fully from the outside, since it depends on participating in the religious form of life.
I think there is something to this. I think, for example, that some outsider who listens to a group of art critics discussing a painting will follow only marginally, even if the words being used seem familiar. Art critics have a particular way of looking at and talking about art; one must be socialized into this way of talking and seeing, at least to some extent. In fact, the same goes for a great many fields. Think about some subject area that you have gradually come to master. Discussion that would have seemed obscure to you before now make perfect sense. The general phenomenon is not exotic. And there is no reason in principle why it shouldn't apply to religion
At the same time, many religious people seem to have beliefs that just do straightforwardly run awry of evidence. That is what creationists get so upset at the thought of evolution being taught in the schools. Indeed, my experience with religious believers is that the range of things meant by various phrases and terms varies widely from the remarkably sophisticated to the ethereal to the naive.
But what does this do to the argument?
I think Plantinga oversimplifies vastly, but it's not clear that it matters. What a person very sophisticated about science may have in mind when she says that there is a computer on my desk might be quite different form what my 7-year-old daughter means. We don't have to have a deep understanding of our statements in order to be justified in making them. I can make various true claims about chemicals in certain foods, for example. But my grip on chemistry is very slight at best. That doesn't mean I'm not entitled to say what I'm saying. In fact, it is almost certainly true that in very many areas, the responsibility for sorting out the details of what is actually behind ordinary claims is a matter for experts and the rest of us ride on their coattails. This could well be true in religion. Take an example: Catholics believe that when they receive communion, they are consuming the body of Christ. Protestants -- and non-Christians -- often greet this claim with shock (whether real or pretended.) The typical Catholic believer simply accepts it with equanimity. But the theological understanding of this doctrine is a very complicated business, and the details continue to be under discussion. What this means is that the believer in the pew may well have no more detailed understanding of what it means to say that s/he is receiving the Body of Christ than I have of what it means when I say that Prozac increases available serotonin. But that is not a reason for me to stop all my beliefs about and talk of Prozac and serotonin. And the Catholic believer might well insist: his or her lack of theological sophistication is not a reason to stop believing and saying that in the mass, communicants receive the Body of Christ.
So the picture that emerges is complicated. Basic beliefs might be beliefs about things that are not at all well-understood by the believer. This goes for beliefs about physical objects, for example. And it may go for religious beliefs as well.
Still, we want to know more. Because there is a real issue about how to prevent a certain slide. When I say that I see a computer in front of me, there is no obvious competing belief. When a believer says that this consecrated Host (communion wafer) is the Body of Christ, there are many conflicting beliefs, both inside and outside religion. We can agree that the mere existence of controversy doesn't shop a belief not to be properly basic. But the more controversy there is, the less plausible it will be to claim that the belief is simply basic, end of story.
Perhaps that is all that can be said on this score. It is very unlikely that we can find a hard and fast way of sorting out the cases. It seems very likely that some beliefs that some believers would like to regard as properly basic are very poor candidates for that status. Other cases may be much less open to serious objection.
But what has all this to do with religious experience?
At least this: the sorts of beliefs that Plantinga is talking about are typically elicited in response to some experience or other. In looking at the flower and coming to believe (in whatever sense it may ultimately be meant) that God created it, the believer is not having a mystical experience, but s/he is having a seeming experience of seeing the handiwork of God. In other words, s/he is coming to hold a belief about God as a result of a perceptual experience. If Plantinga is right, then, a very large range of quite ordinary experiences are potentially also experiences of the divine.
allen stairs
astairs@polaris.umuc.edu