Saturday, April 28, 2012

Michael Shermer and The Believing Brain

I have been reading Skeptic magazine founder Michael Shermer’s book The Believing Brain. In it, he argues for why people believe things in general, with a special focus on God, religion, conspiracies and scientific belief.[1] Of particular interest is his section on an attempt to answer the famous question of philosophy: “Why is there something rather than nothing?”

I shall quote selected portions of his writing on this and offer a critique. It is important to note Shermer takes the explanation for the existence of the universe to be two-pronged: the question listed above, and the fine tuning of the universe crying out for a designer.

[The question] is nonsensical, along the lines of asking What time was it before time began? Or What is north of the North Pole? Asking why there is something rather than nothing presumes “nothing” is the natural state of things out of which “something” needs an explanation.[2]

There are a number of issues here that need to be teased out. Shermer seems to think there is some sort of logical incoherence involved in asking the question of why there is something rather than nothing, or at least the same sort of incoherence as asking his example questions. He does not even attempt to show this. But moreover, I think we can show it is false. Ed Feser has said,

This is the muddleheaded stuff of a freshman philosophy paper -- treating 'nothing' as if it were an especially unusual, ethereal kind of substance whose nature it would require tremendous intellectual effort to fathom. Which, as everyone knows until he finds he has a motive for suggesting otherwise, it is not. Nothing is nothing so fancy as that. It is just the absence of anything, that’s all. Consider all the true existential claims that there are: 'Stones exist,' 'Trees exist,' 'Quarks exist,' etc. To ask why there is something rather than nothing is just to ask why it isn’t the case that all of these statements are false. Pretty straightforward.[3]

Indeed, it is straightforward. In fact, Shermer’s proposed analogous questions seem to be self-contradictory: in the first case it is assumed time existed and did not exist and in the second it is assumed the North Pole is not what it is defined to be. But what is supposed to be the problem analogous to asking why there is something rather than nothing? It does not suppose that if there were nothing, then there would be something, or vice versa.

The next problem Shermer faces is that he unwarrantedly assumes that somehow asking this question entails that “nothing” is the natural state of things from which something arises that needs to be explained. But why think this is the case? While it certainly could be that someone would claim it, no one appears to do so. In fact, Feser easily dispatches this claim by pointing out that Christians think a state of nothingness is impossible because God occupies reality in the absence of anything else, and so there is no default of nothingness on the Christian view.[4] Yet it makes complete sense to ask the question.

The very conception of God existing before the universe and then creating it implies a time sequence . . . time began with the big bang creation of the universe, so God would have to exist outside of space and time, which means that as finite beings delimited by living in a finite universe we cannot possibly know anything about such a supernatural entity . . .[5]

One gets the sense Shermer is attempting to make an argument against God creating the universe, but it is here convoluted and wrongheaded. First, I think he is right that God’s creation of the universe implies a temporal change in states of affairs, from the first moment to the second.[6] But that does not thereby show God does not exist, nor does he bring up what, precisely, the problem is supposed to be. Next, he rightly infers that if time has a beginning, then God existed without time logically prior to the big bang. Strangely, he follows this up by claiming we cannot possibly know anything about God. Presumably this includes the fact “God is outside of space and time.” But if God’s being outside of space and time necessitates that we know nothing about him, we have thereby lost any grounds for thinking that he is outside of space and time, and hence the threat of epistemic blindness concerning God evaporates. It occurs to me Shermer may claim this is so much the worse for Christian theism, but it is not an essential tenet of Christianity to say that we can know nothing of God if he is timeless.

Shermer moves on to list six finely tuned cosmic numbers, and seeks to combat the implication that the universe is finely tuned for life with six of his own alternatives to answer this argument.[7] The first objection is that the universe is a giant waste of space, so to speak. I do not know if Shermer realizes this is double-talk when compared to the six finely tuned constants (which shall be called “The Six” hereafter) or not. In any case, λ, one of The Six which causes the universe to expand at an accelerated rate, is needed for the proper formation of stars and galaxies. But in the case of higher expansion we should expect a larger space. Essentially, this objection only works in the case that λ is false, in which case it does not serve as an objection nor an explanation.

The next objection is called “cosmic chauvinism,” where Shermer believes that “different physics could produce different forms of life.”[8] But this objection just does not define “life” in the same way the fine tuning argument does. Whatever something would be under “different physics,” it would not be a different form of life, but something different altogether.

The next objection is what I term the “inconsistent objection.” This states that some of the constants are arbitrary and can even change, such as the speed of light. However, this is a very subtle move that is deceitful (at least, it’s difficult to see how someone with a scientific background could make this mistake). Shermer is not objecting that certain of The Six are inconsistent or arbitrary. Rather, he is objecting that certain features of the universe are not constants after all. So what follows here? He does not say.

The fourth objection is the “Science of the Gaps” objection. It infers from science’s past successes that it will be able to overcome the fine tuning argument at some point in time. There are two major issues with this, however. First, if science took this track with respect to everything scientific then nothing would ever be believed. The epistemological principle employed here is that as long as it is possible a future development could explain X in another way, the best explanation currently should be rejected. This is obviously fallacious. Second, Shermer even admits this “theory of everything will itself need an explanation” that he expects they may have one day.[9] So The Six may one day be explained fully by a theory we do not have, which shall in turn be explained by another theory we do not have. That smells desperate.

The next objection essentially argues that because we have held beliefs in the past that turned out to be proven false scientifically that we should not be surprised to find out that The Six really are somehow accounted for one day. Again, this does not even argue that it is not the case that the best explanation of The Six is a design inference. It just charges that because we will make scientific advances at all, we have reason to believe we will make sufficient scientific advances to explain The Six in a way that avoids the consequences of fine tuning. But that does not follow.

Finally, Shermer argues for a multiverse to account for The Six. However, each of his accounts fails to avoid the fine tuning issue in varying respects. For instance, of the “natural selection” model Moreland and Craig point out,

The fatal flaw in Smolin’s scenario . . . was his assumption that universes fine-tuned for black hole production would also be fine-tuned for the production of stable stars. In fact, the opposite is true: the most proficient producers of black holes would be universes that generate them prior to star formation, so that life-permitting universes would actually be weeded out by Smolin’s [and Shermer’s preferred] cosmic evolutionary scenario.[10]

While Shermer’s arguments here are somewhat interesting, they are underdeveloped and not particularly convincing. Moreover, it is not always clear the inference being drawn; one does not always know how Shermer reasoned from one point to the next. Perhaps he took it as obvious; it was not. In any case, “why is there something rather than nothing?” cries out to be explained.


                [1] He obviously takes science to be the most superior of all epistemologies, despite its obvious impotence to explain even itself, much less certain other features of reality (2). But that is for another article.

                [2] Michael Shermer, The Believing Brain (New York: Times Books, 2011), 323.

                [3] Ed Feser, “Steng Operation,” <http://edwardfeser.blogspot.com/2012/04/steng-operation.html> accessed April 27, 2012.

                [4] Ibid.

                [5] Shermer, 323.

                [6] Though it should be noted he uses the very same concept as the incoherent question (What time was it before time began?) he condemns only seven sentences earlier.

                [7] I will not be quoting them, but they can be found in Shermer, 325-27.

                [8] Ibid., 325.

                [9] Ibid., 326.

                [10] J.P. Moreland and William Lane Craig, Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2003), 488.

All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

The Evil Resurrection Hypothesis

In my last post we discussed the Resurrection Hypothesis (RH). In this post, we will examine a potential competitor of a supernatural origin: the Evil Resurrection Hypothesis (ERH). ERH is the proposition, “Evil god raised Jesus from the dead.”[1] It has the same explanatory scope, after all. It explains the empty tomb, the post-mortem experiences, and the disciples’ belief in the Resurrection. It also holds the same explanatory power: given the evidences, it makes just as much sense as RH because ERH has an actual bodily resurrection done by a supernatural means!

One thing ERH lacks, however, is the ad hoc test. ERH is hopelessly ad hoc. It merely borrows RH and then tacks on, almost as an afterthought, that this god is evil. That simply is not good enough. Perhaps the purpose of ERH is for us to think “whatever reasons we have for thinking ERH is false can be used to think RH is false as well.” But that does not follow, for RH doesn’t suffer the same ad hoc problem as ERH. Hence, there is at least one reason to prefer RH to ERH.

But suppose ERH is supposed to accomplish another purpose: that we have no epistemic access to distinguish between RH and ERH; we don’t know, epistemically, which one to prefer. Despite the fact that we must put aside the ad hoc problem, I think this charge fails to go through. Consider that RH and ERH only stand as epistemologically similar in the case that one has all of the same evidences for God as evil god (and this is still putting aside the ad hoc charge, which should not be done lightly). Yet it seems we do not have such evidence similarity that holds in complete symmetry.

As an example, consider two areas: objective moral values and doxastic beliefs. In the area of objective moral values, it makes much more sense to view evil as a derivation of the good, and obligations as properly belonging to the good (rather than it being bad one fulfilled an obligation—this seems to carry a metaphysically incoherent meaning). In the practice of forming beliefs, it may be said that evil god should want to deceive us in many beliefs, even if he allows correct beliefs in normal lifestyle. But how are we to know which beliefs have been allowed as correct? If doxastic voluntarism is true, even in its weak form, it seems at least possible for us to trust the beliefs we do in fact come to. If it is not, given evil god, it seems we have a defeater for all of our beliefs, even if some of them are not false.[2]

With the ad hoc problem, ERH becomes a poor substitute for RH, as it depends almost entirely on the case for evil god being better than the case for God. I doubt such a case is forthcoming.


                [1] ERH does not necessitate a claim one way or the other about Jesus. Perhaps he was some poor lunatic, or perhaps he was complicit with evil god. If Jesus were deceived, an ERH defender could simply state it is in evil god’s nature to deceive, so that we shouldn’t be surprised Jesus was in fact deceived. Or perhaps this alternate Jesus forms an unholy alliance with evil god because he is that god’s son. Obviously, this is not the Jesus of Christianity.

                [2] It should also be noted that if evil god does not alter people’s beliefs then it appears we can trust our moral intuitions as we would normally, and thus there is less evidence for evil god than God.

All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Monday, April 23, 2012

The Resurrection Hypothesis

The Resurrection Hypothesis (RH) is that “God raised Jesus from the dead.” RH is used to explain the evidence surrounding Jesus of Nazareth’s death. Some of the evidences are: the empty tomb of Joseph of Arimathea, the post-mortem sightings experienced by the disciples and others, and the origin of the disciples’ belief in the Resurrection.

RH is used as an inference to the best explanation. This means that no matter how probable or improbable it or its competing hypotheses are, RH is the most probable of them. Probability is judged on background knowledge, and specifically what the probability of the evidence being present is if a hypothesis is false. William Lane Craig wrote recently, “Rather what’s crucial is the probability that we should have the evidence we do if the extraordinary event had not occurred. This can easily offset any improbability of the event itself”[1] (emphasis in original) Let’s call this, for this article only, the “absence test.”

Historians and skeptics alike have tried for quite some time to come up with a plausible hypothesis that accounted for all of the evidence and that would be just as probable or more so than RH. The problem is that the proffered hypotheses just did not make any sense. Virtually no one (in fact, no one I have ever heard of who lives today) advocates the Swoon theory as such an alternative, because it is medically certain that Jesus died. It holds the necessary explanatory scope (over all of the evidence), but not the same power (Jesus would have been dead, unable to escape a guarded tomb [or really any sealed tomb at all], the disciples would hardly have been roused to belief in a half-dead, but somehow Resurrected and triumphant, Messiah, etc.). So it is with varying other hypotheses.

But what if one came up with a plausible, yet naturalistic, hypothesis for each of the facts? What then? If each of the facts were to be explained, then the entirety of the evidence will have been explained without resort to God, and hence RH is not the best explanation after all.

First, it must be pointed out that simply providing a plausible explanation for each of the facts only serves as a competitor to RH, not as an overriding defeater or something. It’s not enough that it seems plausible; each hypothesis must itself be more probable than RH on its own.[2] Next, three separate hypotheses almost assuredly will not be able to compete, probabilistically, with one unified hypothesis (such as RH). They do not have the ability to pass the absence test nearly as well as RH.

Suppose we offer the fact that the tomb was unguarded and Jesus’ disciples stole his body from the tomb. But we cannot rule out the other background knowledge we do in fact have, such as the fact that the disciples, embarrassingly, returned to fishing and did not believe in the Resurrection. What is the probability that we would have the evidence of an empty tomb and the disciples’ unbelief/abandonment of their message, even in the face of testimony of the empty tomb, if the hypothesis that “the disciples stole the body” was false? I would say that would be pretty good! Therefore, the stolen body hypothesis fails the absence test. Each individual hypothesis given to individual pieces of evidence suffers the same fate.

Moreover, because of the nature of the evidences, a unifying explanation such as RH should nearly always be preferred over any set of individual explanations. For even if the stolen body hypothesis had overcome the absence test, it still could not explain post-mortem experiences very well, and even if it did so, would not explain the disciples’ actual belief in the Resurrection (dying for a lie does not seem likely, and mass delusion fails). In short, if a single hypothesis has the appropriate explanatory power and scope, passes the absence test, and so on, it should always be preferred to individual explanations. RH is the best explanation of the evidence. Jesus is risen!




                [2] This is because if RH is more probable than any of the proffered competitors, then RH should be preferred in the case of that piece of evidence. But if it is to be preferred in that piece of evidence, then it is to be preferred in all of them, for RH just explains all of the evidence.

All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

A Brief Objection with respect to the Problem of Evil

It is sometimes asserted that while God may not be able to prevent all instances of evil because of free will, nonetheless a loving and good God would seek to minimize every evil he could. This means some proposition is asserted as a moral fact, such as: “every instance of moral evil ought to be prevented, if it can be.” Yet this is patently false. Consider the scenario of a man who intends to run over an innocent old lady in the middle of the street. Another man pushes the old lady out of the way only to be killed himself by the truck. While the man running over the old lady was an evil prevented, the man running over the other man was an evil carried out. We wouldn’t think the man acted in poor moral form by saving the life of another even though he could have prevented the moral evil that did happen. In any case, it’s not at all clear that every instance of moral evil ought to be prevented, even if it can be. The objector needs something else to succeed.
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All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Beliefs, Free Will, and God

1. If we have free will, then at least some of our beliefs are formed partly of our own will.

Suppose one is a gambler, and he chooses to exercise in a game of chance involving a small red box. The idea is that there is something in the box, and it either contains a million dollars or it does not. Nothing else is known about the game, nor how many times it has been played, nor if anyone has won or how often. The man certainly does not know whether or not one million dollars is in the box, but he nevertheless may believe “one million dollars is in the box” or not. He does not have any epistemological reasons for his belief; he is not supposing he is “due” for some good luck or any such nonsense. Yet his belief is not entirely random. It is based on his greed. Because he desires money, he chooses to form a belief about the money being in the box. Although this belief may be irrational, he has nonetheless chosen it, and free will partly formed the belief. One worry is that this is only so in situations in which the subject is being irrational (for one may argue scenarios in which the subject holds a belief on a rational basis may be causally determined, hence their rationality). However, it does not follow that whatever is rational is determined, and at least in that case the worry does not act as a defeater for (1).

2. It is not the case that one ought to believe P if he is unable to believe P.

If the subject cannot form a belief about some P, then it hardly makes sense to say that the subject ought to believe P in order to be rational. More properly, it does not make sense to speak of the subject’s belief in terms of rationality or irrationality.[1] No one thinks that a dog who lies by the front door of his dead owner is behaving irrationally; they simply think he is being a dog. Rather, at best the dog is displaying a-rational behavior (see n.1). But there are plenty of times we think someone, of sufficient mental capacity, is behaving irrationally, and ought to form a different belief in order to remain rational.

3. There are at least some beliefs we ought to hold in order to be rational.

This is analytically true if there are any beliefs that can properly be called irrational.

4. There are at least some beliefs we are able to form and hold.

(4) follows from (2-3).

There seems to be an argument for being able to form one’s beliefs. For one might reasonably suppose from (2-3) that whatever one ought to believe in order to be rational, he can believe. But this leads to:

5. On determinism there are at least some beliefs that ought to be held in order to be rational that at least some subjects cannot form nor hold.

There are two potential responses to (5) in light of the present argument. The first response is to bite the bullet. Admit that there are at least some beliefs that one ought to hold in order to be considered rational that cannot be held on determinism (since it is so highly implausible, on naturalistic/materialistic accounts of determinism, that we are able to hold every rational belief). “All that follows is that we consider the subject to be ‘a-rational’ in these cases,” he may object. The problem with this is that it is wildly counterintuitive. If we supposed that, then most every case of irrationality is actually a case of a-rationality. But surely this cannot be true. If one does not bite the bullet, then the move to make is to say that there are no beliefs that ought to be held in order to be rational that at least some subjects cannot form nor hold; or put another way: every belief needed to be held in order to be rational can be formed and held by every agent who can be said to be acting in the rational/irrational paradigm with respect to that belief. But in that case, determinism is false.[2]

If we can at least partly form our beliefs with our free will, then this explains the moral dimension we ascribe to people who hold beliefs that are themselves morally repugnant. For instance, the person who believes torturing babies in front of their parents for the fun of it is morally repugnant for this even if he never attempts to do such a thing (or even facilitate it, promote it, etc.). If one has partly formed his belief through his free will (or even antecedent character-forming choices), then he is to blame for the belief he now holds. Finally, we get to the point: if one can help choose his beliefs, then one can at least have some measure of influence on her own belief with respect to Jesus Christ. At some point, it’s not a matter of can’t believe, it is won’t believe. I once had a conversation with an atheist who essentially said they would never submit to God. This is a choice. What will yours be?


                [1] In fact, beliefs themselves may be construed as properly belonging only to the realm of the irrational/rational realm, so that whatever is not rational (henceforth called “a-rational”) just cannot be called a belief at all.

                [2] Theological determinists certainly may have a complaint here, but it seems that even (5) could be affirmed by the theological determinist. Even theological determinists think that some people act irrationally with respect to their beliefs. I suspect their real complaint will lie with (2).

All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Credo House and Resurrection Myths

Around this time of year, much is said concerning the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. While I will undoubtedly add my own post sometime this week, I thought I would point you in the direction of several well-done videos with Credo House's Michael Patton and the great Dr. Mike Licona! The link is below, and several other videos have been made:

http://vimeo.com/39314488

Definition and Role of Evidence

Much needs to be said about the proper role of evidence in philosophical and theological discussions. People seem to have a notion about evidence that requires near-certainty, or that in order for something to count as evidence it must be found convincing to them. Specifically, I have heard lately “there is no evidence for such-and-such in the Bible.” When it comes to major theological issues within Christianity, it is rare that an espoused major opinion has absolutely no biblical or theological evidence. We should discuss the proper definition and role of evidence.
Some fact F serves as evidence for a proposition P just in the case that P is more probable given F’s truth than if F had not been present. Some F does not serve as evidence for P in the case that P is just as probable given F’s presence as its absence, or in the case that P is actually rendered less probable given F than not-F. Here’s a real world example:
Suppose I arrive home to discover my wife Jodi’s car parked next to my house (F1). I now have reason to think Jodi is home (P), because her being home is more probable given that her car is parked at the house than if her car were not so parked. So F1 is evidence for P. Now suppose we say, almost without exception, Jodi’s car is driven only by her (F2). So F2, taken with the fact I see Jodi’s car (F1), is evidence for P. This shows the role of evidence is to take in all relevant facts to confirm or disconfirm a proposition.
Now for a twist: suppose I suddenly remember Jodi is out of town this week (F3). F3 thus serves as evidence against P, for P is less probable given F3’s presence than it would be in the absence of F3. In fact, F3, on its own, is stronger than both F1 and F2; it is strong enough to act as a defeater for P. Perhaps it is the case I left the car there and took her to the airport. However, it does not follow that there is no evidence for P.
The same goes with respect to theological debates. It may be we have sufficient evidence to reject a premise, but it doesn’t necessarily follow therefore there just is no evidence for that premise. The problem of evil acts as evidence against God’s existence; Christians (such as I am) just think the evidence for God outweighs this.[1]
This brings us to the role of evidence, already implicit. Evidence and relevant facts ought to be amassed in order to evaluate a proposition. This does not mean one must know everything there is to know about a subject. I would submit that if there is enough evidence relevant to the situation or premise that one can assert, tentatively, that the evidence points in favor of the proposition. There is much offered in the realm of evidences for (and some against) God. One should only remain agnostic in the event she holds her evidences in favor of and against God to be precisely equal! This is the definition and role of evidence.


[1] Indeed, even the existence of evil may itself serve as evidence for God’s existence, given other introduced facts.
All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Original Guilt vs. Original Sin

Consider the following argument:

1. If one cannot sin, then one has not sinned.

2. If one has not sinned, then one cannot be held morally responsible for sin.

3. Therefore, if one cannot sin, then one cannot be held morally responsible for sin.

(1) is true as a matter of course; if something is impossible for a being, then it certainly cannot be said that being has performed that action. (2) seems to be somewhat uncontroversial as well. For how can we hold someone morally responsible for an act they have not performed? Instead of “sin,” replace it with any form of wrongdoing or reprehensible act (such as “lying” or “cheating on one’s taxes,” etc.). (3) is just a conclusion from a logical rule of inference that allows us to say “if A, then B; if B, then, C; therefore, if A, then C,” and hence cannot be denied. But then consider:

4. For any sin act X, if one cannot perform X, then one cannot be held morally responsible for X.

5. To hold someone morally responsible for X is to hold one guilty of X.

6. Therefore, for any sin act X, if one cannot perform X, then one cannot be held guilty of X.

(4) is little more than a restatement of (3). It just makes it explicit that one is meaning any specific act of sin. (5) also seems quite plausible, for to be morally responsible for X just means either to be praiseworthy or blameworthy, and since X is specified to be an act of sin, one cannot be praiseworthy. (6) follows as an entailed conclusion from (4-5), and hence cannot be denied. So, finally consider:

7. There are at least some created persons who are, at this moment, incapable of performing a sin act.

8. Therefore, there are at least some created persons who, at this moment, cannot be held guilty of X.

9. [Original Guilt Premise]: For every created person A, A is held morally responsible for (and hence guilty of) X. (OGP)

10. Therefore, either (8) or (OGP) is true, but not both.

11. (8) is true.

12. Therefore, OGP is false.

(7) is true when we consider the mentally handicapped, babies, etc. It seems truly odd to think that all people so described are in fact capable of sin while in those states. (8) follows as an entailed conclusion from (1-6), and hence cannot be denied. (9) is the premise of original guilt[1], and specifies X as Adam’s sin. But (8) and (9) are contradictory, for since we did not actually exist, we could not perform X. But if we cannot perform X, then we did not perform X, and hence cannot be held morally responsible for X. This means original guilt, where the guilt of Adam’s sin is imputed to all persons at conception, is false.

I do believe in original sin, however. Original sin teaches that the consequences and effects of Adam’s sin are passed on to the entire human race. This includes death (cf. Romans 5), the proclivity or inclination to sin, etc. One need not worry as to when, precisely, guilt is imputed. If Genesis 3 is any hint, it comes with the knowledge of good and evil. This knowledge comes experientially and with the resisting of temptation. Philosophers such as Alvin Plantinga have made the case that any non-divine, libertarianly free being will not successfully refrain from choosing sin over a course of time (even though it is logically possible). In that case, with the will inclined toward sin, it is both metaphysically and anecdotally possible that persons only come to realize the knowledge of good and evil in the relevant sense when they realize they have committed wrong! What begs to be written on (and it probably has) is a good exegesis of Romans 5 from this perspective.


                [1] This is not to be confused with “original sin,” which will be discussed later. Original sin (OS) states the effects and consequences of Adam’s sin are passed on to his descendants, while original guilt (OGP) states the guilt of Adam’s sin is imputed to all persons. OS seems to be obviously taught in Scripture, while OGP seems to be a theological outworking.


All posts, and the blog Possible Worlds, are the sole intellectual property of Randy Everist. One may reprint part or all of this post so long as: a) full attribution is given (Randy Everist, Possible Worlds), b) all use is non-commercial, and c) one is in compliance with the Creative Commons license at the bottom on the main page of this blog.