Monday, January 21, 2013

The Moral Landscape: An Ugly Marriage of Confidence and Ignorance

In a brief moment of clarity, Harris observes, “the less competent a person is in a given domain, the more he will tend to overestimate his abilities” before noting, “This often produces an ugly marriage of confidence and ignorance” (ML, p.161). When I first reached this line my initial impression was that herein lay a prescient description of The Moral Landscape and perhaps Sam Harris as well. Despite being a relative newcomer to science (only starting his neuroscience PhD. in his late thirties after no prior experience, it seems, in any field of science), and showing more than a small degree of disdain for philosophy given he has a BA in that discipline (which would only engender a very general level of knowledge as previously indicated), Harris believes that he has overcome Hume’s famous dictum that one cannot get an ought from an is, and shown professional scientists who thought they had nothing to say about morality that they are wrong. Why then, am I not lauding him as a brilliant mind who has revolutionised studies of morality? Irrespective of what he believes to be the case, Harris never does either of these things in Moral Landscape.


I had intended to include aspects of the reviews I read and also go into full detail. The demands of brevity again exert themselves and I must restrict myself in the scope of this analysis. For that reason I will focus on two major issues, both of which are fairly objective and avoid the recurrent issue of Harris’ elusive contentions. The first will be his definition of ‘science’, the second his use of ‘well-being’ as the central aspect of his system of morality.

What I quoted above is far from the only instance where Harris provides a comment which duly describes his own work. At one point Harris notes that anyone is “free to define ‘science’ any way they want” (ML, p.61). Surely though this is an outright falsehood. While Harris claims there are right and wrong answers to moral questions, there certainly are right and wrong definitions. An essential preface to talking about Moral Landscape or Harris’ assertions that ‘science can tell us about morality’ in general is that, in a strict sense, when he says science he doesn’t mean science. Or more specifically, he means a lot more than the hard sciences (physics, biology, chemistry) that are usually indicated or alluded to when ‘science’ is deployed. Harris is open about this (in his notes but not the main text). Therein he writes:

“For the purposes of this discussion, I do not intend to make a hard distinction between ‘science’ and other intellectual contexts in which we discuss ‘facts’ – e.g. history ... I think ‘science’ therefore, should be considered a specialized branch of a larger effort to form true beliefs about events in the world.” (ML, p.249)

Notably, half of the declaration advocates ‘science’ being read broadly yet the final sentence returns to a point of distinction. This is likely so that Harris can achieve his ends (which require the expansive view) and deflect claims he fails to provide science with sufficient identity. Taken in connection to this definition one can read Harris’ efforts as being about factual discourse and morality, not science and morality. Regarding the potential challenge to his assertion about science determining morality posed by restrictive definitions, Harris writes:

“Some people maintain this view [there are no right/wrong answers about morality] by defining ‘science’ in exceedingly narrow terms, as though it were synonymous with mathematical modelling or immediate access to experimental data. However, this is to mistake science for a few of its tools. Science simply represents our best effort to understand what is going on in the universe, and the boundary between it and rest of rational thought cannot always be drawn.” (ML, p.45)

Yes, science does represent our best effort to understand the world (and beyond that, the universe). But it is the best because of the tools which it uses. For Harris then, anything that is the ‘best effort’ is ‘science’. Speaking with greater specificity and accuracy, one might say that while science is quite distinct, scientific approaches do appear in other fields. For example, methodological naturalism is central to hard sciences such as physics and also history in that no one factors supernatural causes into their explanation of events. Likewise, evidence is the ultimate arbiter of one’s conclusions in such fields which is why these may be considered, alongside the traditional sciences, as parts of factual discourse.

What is ultimately wrong with Harris’ inclusivity? Basically this ignores the past two centuries and takes the meaning of ‘science’ back to Coleridge’s day when it referred to any systematic knowledge. Science is no longer just science but a collection of any discipline which aims to produce factual knowledge. These may be called scientific but to label them science is either misrepresentative or in need of further qualification. Most importantly, it diminishes the force of his statement. In an exchange with Peter Singer [1], Harris also accepted the inclusion of philosophy into the list of what could, by his intentions, be called science. Once that concession is made, saying ‘science can tell us about morality’ becomes interchangeable with saying, ‘philosophy can tell us about morality’. What has philosophy been doing since the time of the Ancient Greeks? Among other things it has been trying to tell us about morality, the good life, right and wrong, etc. Instantaneously Harris’ novelty dissipates.

Having dealt with the problem of Harris’ definition of science I will now look at a term Harris fails to define: well-being. Harris claims that ‘well-being’ is the measure of what is good and to what degree it is good. Problematically, he has no clear definition:

“Many readers might wonder how can we base our values on something as difficult to define as ‘well-being’? It seems to me, that the concept of well-being is like the concept of physical health: it resists precise definition, and yet it is indispensible.” (ML, p.24)

Actually the concept is only indispensible in the event that one claims well-being should be the measure of what is good. A major issue arises if one considers that there is no way to scientifically quantify such an amorphous entity. He has been called out on this point before. On the topic of well-being Harris criticizes Sean Carroll’s argument against him in typically assertive yet digressionary style:

“The physicist Sean Carroll has written a fair amount against me on this point (again, without having read my book), and he is in the habit of saying things like, “I don’t know what a unit of well-being is,” as though he were regretfully delivering the killing blow to my thesis. I would venture that Carroll doesn’t know what a unit of depression is either—and units of joy, disgust, boredom, irony, envy, or any other mental state worth studying won’t be forthcoming.” [2]

The difference is that Carroll has not written a book wherein the concept depression etc. is central to his case. In other words, what Harris says does not relieve the burden upon his shoulders to actually define well-being. When Harris lists three “distinct challenges” all of them relate to well-being [2], showing how truly central it is to his case. We will focus here on the last one:

“Even if we did agree to grant “well-being” primacy in any discussion of morality, it is difficult or impossible to define it with rigor. It is, therefore, impossible to measure well-being scientifically. Thus, there can be no science of morality. (The Measurement Problem)” [2]

Exactly as he does in the book itself, Harris’ response is to claim well-being as directly analogous to health. He rephrases each of the challenges replacing “well-being” with health and supposes that this will dispute the validity of the originals. Though pithily acknowledging the imperfection of his analogy Harris nevertheless states, “I maintain that it is good enough to obviate these three criticisms.” Let’s pause to deconstruct that sentence: “I maintain” indicates the point is entirely subjective; “good enough” adds another level of subjectivity; then we finish by having to assume, on Harris own account, that the point is solid. What need one do in order to demonstrate that Harris is wrong? Disagree. When discourse remains on a subjective level we are not dealing with rational argumentation but with mere opinion. If one doesn’t care what Harris maintains and sees the analogy as not “good enough” then the criticism is no longer obviated. It is still in play and able to be called upon whenever one does not accept Harris’ opinion.

He concludes without even returning to well-being, as though the case for valuing health were the topic in question. These continue as he discusses the first two criticisms with regards to health without ever reaching “measurement problem”. His finale gets us back to the essential (for Harris) analogy with health:

“Unless you understand that human health is a domain of genuine truth claims—however difficult “health” may be to define—it is impossible to think clearly about disease. I believe the same can be said about morality.” [2]

Again we are left with a subjective point – “I believe”. All Harris seems to do is make that assertion and to expect us to accept that all the arguments for health can be easily and directly applied to well-being. Health invokes different points of concern than well-being. Whereas the former, in anything but a metaphorical sense, applies to individuals, the latter can operate easily on many levels. As such we may cogently ask whose well-being is at stake. A major flaw is that Harris never quite seems to establish what priorities should be given in cases where there are conflicting interests (between individuals or between societies and individuals).

Instead he relies on naive statements about the best or worst case scenarios where either everyone or no one suffers. As Patricia Churchland (a friend of Harris) put it, “Sam Harris is a child when it comes to addressing morality” [3]. Churchland’s is perhaps the most polite way of phrasing the issue: Harris’ treatment is immature and often reminiscent of reading what a child may postulate if given a simple essay task. Here’s an example of his immature sentiments:

“a universe in which all conscious beings suffer the worst possible misery is worse than a universe in which they experience well-being. This is all we need to speak about ‘moral truth’ in the context of science. Once we admit that the extremes of absolute misery and absolute flourishing – whatever these states amount to for each particular being in the end – are different and dependant on facts about the universe, then we have admitted that there are right and wrong answers to questions of morality.”(p.59)

Discussions of absolute states such as the above have no actual merit resolving practical states. There is not a simple clean choice between maximum good and maximum bad. Notice also the relativism contained in the centre of that quote. Harris does not obviously consider the very possible situation that maximum flourishing could be seen to entail some degree of misery to satisfy any sadistic beings present. On that note it would render the absolute situation of his invention impossible.

Here’s one final part that needs to be pointed out- the morally insane grizzly. When discussing psychopaths, Harris has this to say:

“Consider the prospect of being locked in a cage with a wild grizzly: why would this be a problem? Well, clearly, wild grizzlies suffer some rather glaring cognitive and emotional deficits. Your new roommate will not be easy to reason with or placate; he is unlikely to recognize that you have interest analogous to his own, or that the two of you might have shared interests; and if he could understand such things, he would probably lack the emotional resources to care. From his point of view you will be a distraction at best, a cowering annoyance, and something tender to probe with his teeth. We might say that a wild bear is, like a psychopath, morally insane.” (ML, p.133)

First of all, depending on the other features of the scenario (i.e. is the cage on a deserted island or are there jailors?) surely the bear will see hypothetical-Harris as a source of food “at best”! This would be for the simple reason that the bear’s major biological imperatives are to survive and to reproduce. Given the absence of a female bear, there’s only thing he will be driven to do: ensure his own survival. Moving further into taking this stream of (poor) thought seriously, one might observe that what we have is a legitimate case of relativism. The bear’s alleged “cognitive and emotional deficits” are only deficits from the human’s point of view. In grizzly terms there is no insanity or deficit. What I mean to convey by saying this is a legitimate case of relativism is that we are clearly looking at an example where comparison is impossible. One can argue that those conditions would only be satisfied by a truly alien culture represented by biologically distinct organisms (in this case, that of the bear but hypothetically an extraterrestrial civilisation). Countering relativism with regards to morality, ethics or other matters is merely a matter of recognising that there are no mutually independent of totally incomparable systems of thought in human culture. In the words of Bernard Williams:

“A fully indivisible culture is at best a rare thing. Cultures, subcultures, fragments of cultures, constantly meet one another and exchange and modify practices and attitudes. Social practices could never come forward with a certificate saying that they belonged to a genuinely different culture, so that they were guaranteed immunity to alien judgements and reactions.” (Ethics and the Limits of Philosophy, p.176)

I suggest Williams’ Ethics (now available as an imprint of Routledge Classics) for those interested in the topic of morality. As for Moral Landscape I have the following to say as a final rejoinder: it is poorly informed, ignoring most of the relevant literature; poorly argued as it starts and finishes with the same assertive stance without any convincing case being put forward between these points; poorly structured, reading more like an extended opinion piece that is top-loaded then quickly loses its bearings (even entering into totally spurious territory where the central claims are laid aside to berate Francis Collins – Chapter 4); and simply a displeasure to read due to Harris’ onerous prose style.


[1] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qtH3Q54T-M8

[2] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/response-to-critics

[3] https://www.equinoxpub.com/acumen/index.php/TPM/article/viewFile/Churchland/11706


Postscript:

For those interested the phrase ‘moral landscape’ refers to “a hypothetical space ... of real and potential outcomes whose peaks correspond to the heights of potential well-being and whose valleys correspond to the deepest possible suffering” (ML, pp.18-9). However, as Harris concedes towards the end of the book:

“if evil turned out to be as reliable a path to happiness as goodness is, my argument about the moral landscape would still stand ... It would no longer be an especially ‘moral’ landscape; rather it would be a continuum of well-being, upon which saints and sinners would occupy equivalent peaks.” (ML, p.242)

It is, in actual fact, nothing more than a geography of well-being invoked to reify Harris’ assertions.

Monday, January 14, 2013

The End of Everyone Else's Faith, Part II: Oxymoron; or, A Religious Critic of Religion

Having established quite simply that Buddhism is a religion, we can now look at what else Harris says about it. In examining his treatments of certain ideas one can see a commitment, founded on faith, in Buddhist concepts. I do not want this Harris-spree to last forever, so I am going to compress the rest of my conclusions (at least those not bearing directly on Moral Landscape or Free Will) regarding his faith into this post. Brevity will naturally win out over comprehensiveness. However, readers are directed towards the cited sources, a number of which elaborate on aspects of the Harris’ hypocrisy [see: 11, 12, 13, and 14].


A rather direct exposition of Harris’ essentially religious commitment to the ‘teachings of the Buddha’ can be found in his “Killing the Buddha” piece. Originally published in the Shambhala Sun, the intro notes that it is written by “Sam Harris, author of The End of Faith, who argues that Buddhism’s philosophy, insight, and practices would benefit more people if they were not presented as a religion” [1]. So we see an agenda quite plainly: to spread the content of Buddhist thought. That the intention requires divesting Buddhism of its status as a religion suggests that those Harris aims at would be less inclined to accept them if they knew the truth.

To say Buddhism deserves different treatment is logically equal to saying that the facets of Christianity should not be presented as religion. Let's examine the logical implications. Creationism (labelled as Intelligent Design) is presented as science; the Gospels are often presented as history. Does this mean that creationism and the Gospel accounts are scientific and historical rather than religious? No. It means that someone is either mistaken (if sincere) or deliberately trying to deceive. Such actions misrepresent what is being conveyed. Hence it is reasonable to say that Harris wants to misrepresent Buddhism. This shows Harris himself to be Buddhist in the same way as other religious persons who try to recast their belief system as truthful and non-contentious. He may claim he is talking about science but the truth of the matter rests uncomfortably beneath his grandiose verbiage.

“But wait”, a hypothetical interjector may say, “Sam says he isn’t a Buddhist.” That he does in his “Response to Controversy” piece [2]. It merits noting that this document was both created and maintained due to the fact that Harris was being ‘misunderstood’. In the previous post I mentioned the fact that he has a problem with communicating and this is some of the best proof of both his failures on that count and also his tendency to express divergent views. In a section concerning Eastern mysticism and Buddhism, Harris states: “While I consider Buddhism almost unique among the world’s religions as a repository of contemplative wisdom, I do not consider myself a Buddhist” [2]. Firstly, his language betrays the knowledge that Buddhism is a religion. Secondly, coming from Harris this assuaging of a label is meaningless. Elsewhere, when countering complaints about his views on the term atheism, Harris states, “My point, with respect to the term “atheist” (or any other), is that the use of a label invites a variety of misunderstandings that are harmful to our cause” [3]. Taken in the context of his own thoughts, not using the term Buddhist is entirely consistent with a general attitude towards labels and the goal of spreading certain ideas.

Here’s a simple illustration of his faith in Buddhism: by Harris own account “According to the teachings of Buddhism, meditation produces profound insights into the nature of human subjectivity; insights that can have a direct a bearing upon a person’s ethical life and level of happiness” [4]. Where that view becomes important is in the pronouncements that Harris makes without overt recourse to the fact he has effectively drawn these conclusions from Buddhist conviction. Consider the following:

“In many respects, Buddhism is very much like science. One starts with the hypothesis that using attention in the prescribed way (meditation), and engaging in or avoiding certain behaviors (ethics), will bear the promised result (wisdom and psychological well-being). This spirit of empiricism animates Buddhism to a unique degree. For this reason, the methodology of Buddhism, if shorn of its religious encumbrances, could be one of our greatest resources as we struggle to develop our scientific understanding of human subjectivity.” [1]

“There is simply no question that people have transformative experiences as a result of engaging contemplative disciplines like meditation, and there is no question that these experiences shed some light on the nature of the human mind (any experience does, for that matter).” [2]

“I believe contemplative efforts of this sort [meditation etc.] have a lot to tell us about the nature of the mind” [5]

“What words should we use to acknowledge the fact that the happiest person on this earth at this moment might have spent the last twenty years living alone in a cave? Any experienced meditator knows that this is a serious possibility. (Indeed, I consider it not only possible, but likely.)” [6]

“As any serious practitioner of meditation knows, there is something to the claims that have been made by mystics over the ages” [6]

Regarding the last two one may say that whether anyone committed to a certain system of belief would admit of the possibility is irrelevant. Until there’s a fact there’s nothing but a religious concept. What is present in this statement if not faith? Looking back to the second statement it is plainly obvious that if “any experience does” then Buddhist practices are disinvested of their supposedly unique utility. Nevertheless, Harris suggests we use Buddhist “methodology” to produce a “contemplative science” [1]. Why Buddhist methodology? No convincing reason is given and we are left with Harris’ (pre-existent) belief that this can be done. Again, we have a conviction on the grounds of faith.

Harris suggests we shear Buddhist teachings of their religious attributes in order to create this “science of consciousness” [1]. To articulate the point he asserts “Christians invented physics as we know it, and the Muslims invented algebra”, therefore it is seen as no great leap to claim as he does that Buddhists could have invented a science [1]. He proceeds to state, “Today, anyone who emphasizes the Christian roots of physics or the Muslim roots of algebra would stand convicted of not understanding these disciplines at all” [1]. Unfortunately, but certainly not surprisingly in the context of Harris’ writing, no substantive explanation is offered to clarify the meaning of these claims. What does it actually mean to say “Christians invented physics”? Does Harris simply seek to make the observation that Newton, Faraday and other pioneers of physics were Christian (albeit of mostly different sects)? Does he actually want to argue that Christianity and Islam involve the nucleus of these scientific practices? Without clarification one cannot be certain which claim to address. Herein we see the aforementioned problem of engagement that plagues Harris’ work and leaves open the numerous doors through which he would abscond if cornered on the point.

While physics and algebra did first arise out of Christian and Muslim societies respectively this does not make them the inventions of religion. To say they were would require a clear linkage between religious beliefs and the final product. Saying that belief in an orderly universe, to take the Christian example often cited by proponents of the unification of science and religion, produced physics is insufficient. Why? Because all that belief does is to suggest a possibility into which one must look to find out what the reality is. That physics was the ultimate result is counterbalanced by the fact that other religious beliefs have failed to produce scientific disciplines. One is therefore not guaranteed of such a result as Harris suggests. As he typically does, Harris is imagining an allegedly possible future. In this case one where Buddhism turns out to have produced the next physics or algebra. He is free (well actually no, not according to Harris himself, who sees free will as an illusion) to have his fancies. None of these represent a convincing argument or a valid case though.

Overall the article seems based on circular reasoning: Harris assumes that Buddhism has something (scientific) to say and then calls for a new science to be developed based on its “methodology”. If Buddhism can make an empirical contribution to knowledge then I am happy to see it do so. However, the claim requires evidence before we can even validly state that it has something to contribute. Minus the evidence it is nothing more than one man’s belief. And that’s what religion often comes down to: one man’s belief, before and without the evidence to make it true.

Both in a spurious chapter of Moral Landscape and elsewhere Harris criticizes Francis Collins, current head of the NIH, for suggesting that his Christian beliefs (which are expansively liberal) do not conflict with contemporary science [7]. What’s the difference between Collins’ claims about Christianity and Harris’ about Buddhism? Both claims that their religion and science do not conflict. Accusing Collins’ religion of undermining his scientific capacity Harris asserts, “It can be difficult to think like a scientist ... few things make thinking like a scientist more difficult than religion” [7]. That’s quite true. But it is a problem equally for Harris as it is for Collins. Moreover, to my knowledge Collins does not attempt to import his beliefs into science or suggest they can bring about new scientific disciplines. In that regard he is more reasonable than Harris.

It appears that Harris is simply being hypocritical, holding a double standard where his religion is valid while anyone else’s must be called into question. For posterity let me say I take an equally negative view of each. Furthermore, although he claims that science can address questions of morality, and rebukes Collins for suggesting that there are questions outside of the scope of science [7], Harris has this to say in End of Faith:

“The idea that brains produce consciousness is little more than an article of faith among scientists at present, and there are many reasons to believe that the methods of science will be insufficient to either prove or disprove it.“ (End Of Faith, p.208)

So apparently there are questions beyond the scope of science. It is just that those questions happen to be those which Harris’ religious beliefs depend upon instead of those that Collins’ requires. A Washington Post article based on an interview with him provides the following self-indictment: “Harris says ... Because Christians and Jews cling to their "delusions," they are in no position to criticize Muslims for theirs” [8]. Basically this amounts to the same moral as ‘the pot calling the kettle black’. Unfortunately for Harris he occupies an equally compromised position wherein the most he can do is rebuke the faith of others while resting on his own. Similar views are expressed by Harris in a New Statesman article where he is quoted as saying, “the devout tacitly reject thousands of gods, along with the cherished doctrines of every religion but their own” [9]. Again, this serves as an apt description of Harris himself: all religions are false save thy own.

It is hard to separate out the beliefs that Harris espouses and those of his Buddhist background. Although Harris has declared that he was formerly a “dogmatic Buddhist” [10], Theodore Sayeed rightly points out that Harris was not raised in a Buddhist context but rather chose to immerse himself in and convert to the belief system [11]. In asking whether Harris “mishmash of Buddhism and "Time-Life Mysteries of The Unknown," might “weaken his case against Christians”, John Gorenfeld observes, “His answer is that Buddhism is a superior product” [12]. Consistently Harris has been shown to adopt the stable maxim of the religious that ‘my faith and beliefs are the true way forward’. As early as 2005 academic and science writer, Meera Nanda provided the following highly acute description of End of Faith:

“In his much acclaimed The End of Faith, Sam Harris declares the death of faith, only to celebrate the birth of spirituality ... This bilious attack on faith only sets the stage for what seems to be his real goal: a defense [sic.] -- nay, a celebration of -- Harris's own Buddhist/Hindu spirituality.” [13]

By not being a traditional or “dogmatic” adherent, Harris can most accurately be described as a religious moderate. On this point, Gorenfeld quite rightly observes that Harris, “Like any religious moderate ... has picked and chosen what he likes from a religion” [12]. Ironically, Harris reserves some of his most direct language for the denouncement of religious moderates. It is telling to see how sheepish Harris acts, when faced with an audience of scientists, regarding his other notable belief (in reincarnation – see: 14) when called out on his leniency towards Buddhism by Laurence Krauss [15]. Starting with Buddhism, Harris has built a faith out of the tenets of his former dogma blended with scientistic language and a few idiosyncratic motifs which make him a paradigm example of today’s spiritual landscape where religious doctrine is eschewed for personal identity bricolage.

In adherence to a religion one has a certain amount of vested commitment to specific ideas and metaphysical schemata. This commitment comes before, and is often seen not to require, rational or empirical deliberation. Having shown that when Sam Harris decalres the end of faith he really means the end of any faith he doesn't endorse, I will move on to critically examining Moral Landscape.

[1] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/killing-the-buddha/
[2] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/response-to-controversy2/
[3] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/response-to-my-fellow-atheists
[4] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/a-contemplative-science
[5] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/consciousness-without-faith
[6] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/rational-mysticism
[7] http://www.samharris.org/site/full_text/science-is-in-the-details
[8]http://www.washingtonpost.com/wpdyn/content/article/2006/10/25/AR2006102501998_2.html
[9] http://www.newstatesman.com/religion/2011/07/god-evidence-believe-world
[10] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fd7u_JieXFI&feature=channel&list=UL#t=2m36s
[11] http://mondoweiss.net/2012/09/sam-harris-in-full-court-intellectual-mystic-and-supporter-of-the-iraq-war.html
[12]http://www.alternet.org/story/46196/sam_harris%27s_faith_in_eastern_spirituality_and_muslim_torture
[13]http://www.sacw.net/free/Trading%20Faith%20for%20Spirituality_%20The%20Mystifications%20of%20Sam%20Harris.html
[14] http://www.skepdic.com/news/newsletter74.html
[15] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-lXdIuxATtQ#t=1h47m52s For Krauss’ statements watch from 1:45. Note: Harris claims that his leniency is not because of an “affinity” born of either background or Buddhists but because of a subjective opinion – “I happen to think” – which directly illustrates Harris’ faith-based belief in that system of thought over others.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

An Atheist by any other Definition: The AFA and Sam Harris

Although I won’t be touching on whether or not Harris can be called an atheist (sometimes he uses the term, other times he attacks its validity) in future posts, I couldn’t help but cite this gem: “Sam Harris is not an Atheist according to the AFA” [1].


Predictably, the first post in this forum topic opens by citing the definition of atheism asserted by the Atheist Foundation of Australia (AFA). For those unfamiliar – the vast majority – it goes something like this: "[atheism is] the acceptance that there is no credible scientific or factually reliable evidence for the existence of a god, gods or the supernatural". Whether Harris fits the estimation of atheism espoused by a rather parochial group is ultimately inconsequential...unless of course that group is organizing and running a “Global Atheist’s Convention” at which Harris is a featured speaker. It merits being said that Harris lead “4,000” attendees of said convention (held in April 2012) in a session of mindfulness meditation [2]. At the time no one called him out on this. So much for absence of religion being a part of atheist conventions!


The poster suggests that Harris fails to meet the definition because of the final point about the supernatural. Where the poster is wrong is in the simple fact that neither religion nor atheism requires belief or disbelief in the supernatural. Of course, that’s the same major error in the AFA’s definition. One can say that Buddhists are atheists in the sense that they don’t believe in the theistic conception of God. Likewise we can say that Raelians are atheists.


Whether Harris is an atheist or not has no bearing on my argument that he can be considered religious and holds certain beliefs on faith. Admittedly, this short observation was prompted more by my view that the AFA are a rather vacuous group when it comes to what they proclaim than by anything explicitly to do with analysing Harris' work. Having since found that demonstrations and suggestions of Harris’ religiosity have been in circulation since The End of Faith was published in 2004, I am quite surprised that the AFA are not only moot on his hypocrisy but openly endorse him by giving him headliner status. Actually, surprised isn't the right word (considering how low an estimation of the AFA I have). Overall I am simply disappointed that rational discussion is frequently undercut by certain figures never being openly subjected to evaluation within the subcultural discourse. I have personally seen people who label themselves as rationalists and/or atheists exercising no critical thinking about such figures (including Harris and the AFA's president, David Nicholls) say.


[1] http://www.atheistnexus.org/forum/topics/sam-harris-is-not-an-atheist
[2] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ITTxTCz4Ums

Monday, January 7, 2013

The End of Everyone Else's Faith, Part I: Sam Harris and a Religion

Given the present silence that seems to have descended over Boggo Road Gaol, I shall shift topic to inaugurate what will be a four part analysis regarding the work of Sam Harris. After wading through his turgid but shallow The Moral Landscape (2010) I had all but decided not to deal with Harris’ difficult prose again. In the end though, I managed to read parts of The End of Faith (2004) and also the 66 pages of Free Will (2012). In this initial post I will be examining a matter from End of Faith.


Before proceeding it is necessary to make a point about critically discussing what Harris has written. Previously I noted the difficult prose which mars any meaningful contribution the texts may seek to make. As PZ Myers puts it, “one of the problems with grappling with the objectionable ideas Harris has thrown out is that they’re fuzzily presented and laced with caveats to hide behind” [1]. Given the amount of time Harris spends telling people that they (or others) are misrepresenting his views one wonders just how able he is to communicate a point [see: 2]. Not oblivious to that fact Harris even says, "I can’t shake the feeling that if I just wrote or spoke more clearly, this sort of thing wouldn’t happen" [2]. Indeed.


Such open awareness of his propensity for poor communication gives me cause to speculate. I suspect that accusations of misrepresentation may well be a built in retort which Harris deploys whenever he’s seen to be making statements that are of factually dubious or unsavoury character. Instances of such shall be considered when discussing Moral Landscape and Free Will in subsequent posts.


Additionally, when misunderstanding is claimed, something in the way of a genuine clarification should be forthcoming. Not something Harris does in the majority of cases. He appears instead to claim that the reader is mistaken and then proceed without anything resembling a more precise articulation. Again, that leads me to question whether his opaque deliveries, equivocation, and lack of clarity are deliberate.


So we have a problem when engaging with Harris’ work. One can avoid these though when focusing on basic points. Rather than addressing an aspect of End of Faith that could lead to claims of misrepresentation I shall herein focus on a contention so simple that even Sam Harris can communicate it clearly: that Buddhism is not a religion. My argument here is that Buddhism is a religion. In the following post I will argue in greater detail that it also serves as the basis of Harris’ own religiosity.


In a debate concerning the benefits or lack thereof from belief in God held earlier this year in Canberra, Lawrence Krauss said the following:


"Clearly, not every religious belief can be rational. It is generally true, from my experience in addressing audiences of people of faith, that that fact is accepted. But what is always accepted is that the other peoples' faiths are irrational and the peoples' own faith is rational." [3]


Such is the case with Harris. Despite having written a book titled The End of Faith and frequently criticising “religion”, Harris nevertheless possesses his own brand of religiosity against which he measures all others, asserting his own to be empirical and valid. To be absolutely clear: I am certainly not referring to ‘atheism’ as a religion, nor do I mean to suggest that science can be read as such; I mean to say Harris has beliefs derived from Buddhism that are not founded on evidence, and thus are faith-based beliefs linked to a recognised religion.


Of course, Harris’ counter is that Buddhism is not a religion. In the notes to End of Faith (another recurrent feature of Harris’ work is that significant points are buried in the endnotes rather than included in the main text), he writes:


“Attentive readers will have noticed that I have been very hard on religious faith – Judaism, Christianity, Islam, and even Hinduism – and have not said much that is derogatory of Buddhism. This is not an accident. While Buddhism has also been a source of ignorance and occasional violence, it is not a religion of faith, or a religion at all, in the Western sense.” (End of Faith, p.283)


Unhelpfully, Harris doesn’t establish what religion “in a Western sense” actually constitutes. Nowhere are we shown a difference between Western and (presumably) Eastern ‘religion’ nor why this should actually matter. I suspect a basic principle of distinction is being used by Harris, something along the lines of: ‘all these other examples have deities, Buddhism does not therefore it is not a religion’; or, ‘all these possess a supernatural dimension, (my) Buddhism does not therefore it is not religion’. In regards to the latter principle, AC Grayling has stated that Theravada Buddhism is not a religion but a philosophy because it has no supernatural "beings" [4]. Implied therein is the concession that not all Buddhism merits exclusion from the label ‘religion’. However, Harris remains general and sees all Buddhism as exempt.


Whether Buddhism is sufficiently akin to the Abrahamic traditions or Hinduism (it is in fact a derivative of it) is not the point. I could easily get into the range of academic definitions of ‘religion’ but instead will remain in the popular Harris-friendly sphere of discourse. Let’s consult the vernacular atheist’s bible – Wikipedia – for a definition: “Religion is a collection of belief systems, cultural systems, and world views that relate humanity to spirituality and, sometimes, to moral value” [5]. Notice also that supernaturalism is not required by this definition. Indeed, if we are to call Raelianism or Scientology religions then we need a definition that does not require the supernatural. After describing Buddhists as the physicists of spirituality, Harris proceeds to state:


“Though there is much in Buddhism that I do not pretend to understand – as well as much that seems deeply implausible – it would be intellectually dishonest not to acknowledge its preeminence [sic] as a system of spiritual instruction.” (End of Faith, p.284).


Without introducing any new phraseology we automatically see confluence: a “system of spiritual instruction” would by the definition be a religion. It warrants noting that the Wikipedia page includes Buddhism. Returning to the suggestion that Buddhism is not a religion in the “Western sense” it also warrants noting that Buddhism is part of the subject matter in Studies in Religion departments at major Western universities. Buddhist representatives also attend inter-faith chaplaincies and dialogues in at least this Western country.


If pushed Harris may say that he is 'spiritual' and not 'religious', a common reprise in this day. Presently though that is a way of being religious to one's own individualised faith rather than an institutional framework. In other words, spatiality and religion are different by degree, not kind. This is especially so given both rest on faith. Spirituality assumes a spiritual dimension without evidence. Once again, Harris offers no verification of the claim that Buddhism is preeminent. It is dishonest in any sense, including intellectually, to cast a system of belief as superior to all others (clearly Harris’ language extends the scope beyond religious systems) without at least providing a case first.


Thus, Harris is rebutted on a rather clear point. Whatever his, or other Buddhist proponents opinions, Buddhism is regarded as a religion and fits a broadly available definition of such that may quite easily enter the kind of public, non-academic discourse in which Harris resides.


In the next post I will further examine how Harris treats Buddhism to show that he has a certain faith-based (i.e. evidential unsubstantiated) conviction which undermines his general anti-religion stance.


[1] http://freethoughtblogs.com/pharyngula/2012/08/08/addressing-sam-harris/
[2] http://www.samharris.org/blog/item/wrestling-the-troll
[3] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3YKrLab0IWg
[4] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mfix_e1QnbM
To quote: "Theravada Buddhism is not a religion, it doesn't have any supernatural beings in it - it's a philosophy". However, there's no clear reason why a philosophy cannot equally become, or in some cases legitimately be called, a religion. Such certainly seems the case with the majority of Buddhism.
[5] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Religion