Hypocrisy and Fallacies

When is an appeal to hypocrisy fallacious? Specifically, I’m talking about the claim, “If you argue that someone is hypocritical, therefore their view is false, that is fallacious.”

And there is something about this that is definitely right. Consider the pro-life movement. Suppose I support the outlawing of abortion in most, or even all, circumstances. Suppose further that I have never adopted any of these children whose abortions have been prevented. Suppose finally that I have never even so much as helped someone in need. “You’re a hypocrite!” the charge is levelled; and so I would be if I did nothing for anyone, ever. But what is supposed to follow from this? Surely not that abortions are permissible (the falsehood of my view). Something similar follows when people accuse liberals of being hypocrites because of immigration policies/executive order policies not opposed; nothing of relevance to the issue at hand follows from this.

But perhaps people don’t always mean to argue this way. Perhaps, instead, they mean something like the following: You didn’t hold to principle X last week, and now you do. Thus, either you have to admit that you were wrong last week, or wrong today—or else you’re being logically inconsistent.

What follows from this line of reasoning is that in cases where the opponent does not concede being wrong in the past—if this is really such a case as outlined above, and not a mistake in fact—then it follows they are wrong today. Thus, there is a kind of logical hypocrisy that, when pressed, can result in the establishment of the falsehood of a view. This is due to the law of noncontradiction; no two contradicting propositions can be true of the same thing at the same time and in the same sense.

So let’s apply this attempt at a correct appeal to hypocrisy to both test cases above. In the case of the pro-life movement, it might go like this: “You claim that God commands that life is sacred, but you seem uninterested in the poor and destitute. Are you wrong to be uninterested (since if life is sacred, one ought to be interested in the well-being of the less fortunate) or is life not sacred?”

And this makes some sense to me. Either life is or is not sacred, and unless I answer that I was wrong to be uninterested, then I affirm that life is not sacred (unless, of course, I challenge the facts of the matter). But this is not a particularly amazing strategy, since, of course, I can simply admit the error of my ways and hold to the sanctity of life. And while it’s true that if suddenly I were to claim that life is not sacred, I would not be right about this (truth isn’t up to me), it is true that if both of us in the debate agreed that life is not sacred, then there would be no more debate. What about the second case?

“You didn’t seem worried about executive orders when the last president was doing them. Either executive orders are worrisome or they are not. Either you were wrong to be not worried, or you are wrong to be critical of the current president merely for using them.”

This also strikes me as correct. Much of the analysis is the same as above; I can get out of this by admitting I was wrong. However, if I don’t challenge the facts of the matter, and I don’t admit I was wrong, then it follows I cannot criticize the president on this matter alone.

People don’t always mean this when they have an appeal to hypocrisy. Sometimes, perhaps even most of the time, they mean “X is a hypocrite; he’s wrong!” But sometimes they do—maybe—have this other style of argumentation in mind.

Advice about the PhD

This post will both talk about what I am doing now and what lessons I learned (positive and negative) in applying to PhD programs. First, I have been accepted into (and in turn I have accepted) the PhD philosophy program at the University of Birmingham (UK). It’s an excellent program in which I will be in the UK for two weeks at a time, once per year. The British model of the PhD is one in which you do not take courses (this is due to particulars of the British education system going back to their high school curriculum), but rather write up a dissertation. I am beginning this program under the supervision of Yujin Nagasawa, starting this September, and I am very excited! My purpose in getting this PhD is to be able to work within the professoriate, where I will try to be a professor on mission, engaging the culture around me and attempting to shape its future for Christ. If you are interested in supporting me in prayer or financially, please follow this link.

What follows is a hodgepodge of lessons I’ve learned, in no particular order; please don’t use only me as a resource in applying for PhD programs.

1.     Apply early

This almost cannot be overemphasized. Because I was quite busy during application season, I honestly didn’t really begin applying at most programs until the week after Christmas. This was a mistake, for two reasons: a) several programs either had their deadlines quickly approaching (by Jan. 1), or else already passed (ahem, Indiana); and b) some schools had financial aid opportunities or partnerships that had deadlines pass, some as early as the end of September! My failure to move quickly may have cost me a place at one of these schools, or financial aid.

2.     Don’t swing for the fences too much

Here’s what I mean by that. I applied to eleven programs, eight of which rejected me. However, these were programs such as FSU, Virginia, Texas A&M, Baylor, and Oklahoma. These kinds of programs often receive record numbers of applications (sometimes over 250!), and often have anywhere from 4-8 spaces available. I’ve often heard that virtually nothing separates the top 20 or so applicants in these situations; it’s a virtual lottery. Perhaps I should have played the lottery a little less often, and went for an “easier” fully funded program. It’s not all luck, however…

3.     Be sure the program is a good fit

By this I mean a couple of different things. First, be sure the program is known for your preferred area of specialization (AOS) within philosophy. If you are really into the philosophy of art, but the school doesn’t talk about that being one of their strengths, that may be a sign the school isn’t a good fit for you. Second, you’ll want to peruse the faculty page to see if there are any professors whose AOS matches yours. If you haven’t already, try to read and become familiar with these professors and their work. Then, politely contact them via their preferred method (often email), referencing their work and your interest in it. Further, in a few succinct sentences, describe the direction of your research (in terms of dissertation, if you have it) or the specific questions you are currently interested in, and ask the professor if he thinks this might be interesting, or if you should apply, etc. Be sure to thank him for even reading your email. Preserve all email etiquette! This all assumes you find a prof with a match. When you do not contact a professor (which I did not do for some schools, since I had so little time), you really don’t know if you’re a match for the school. The hard truth is that if there is not a prof willing to work with you on your questions/project, then you will be rejected. This is especially true in British programs, where your entire application rises and falls, more or less, on whether there is a prof willing to work with you. It is telling that of the three acceptances I received, I had contacted and received some form of feedback from three professors.

4.     Be sure you’re OK with the location

This is a bigger deal than you might think. This is where you’re going to be spending 3-7 years of your life, depending on your situation and school. That’s a long time to be in a miserable location you hate. Your home (both town and place in which you live) needs to be a somewhat safe space for you to relax. If you’re bored to death or stressed out, that’s not going to help you complete your program and be healthy. One school to which I applied, had I been accepted (I wasn’t, so there’s that), would have required a significant adjustment in what I was used to. In some cases, that can be easy to accept; in others, it can be intolerable. With one of my other acceptances, I would have needed to move to the UK full-time. While I would love to do that, I have a family, and I would have needed to be sure they could handle the situation (they probably could). For two concrete examples, being in the middle of Manhattan for some people could be stress-torture, while living in a tiny college town with nothing for miles can give people a cabin fever. The key is to know your location, know yourself (and any family), and be honest about these prospects. If possible, visit the campus and check out area activities. I myself went to the UK this time last summer, and took a train to Birmingham one of those days (that part of the trip didn’t go well for a variety of interesting reasons, but at least I went!).

5.     Know your end goal

Part of what can help you make your decision is knowing what you want to do with your PhD. Overwhelmingly, people who get PhDs in the humanities want to teach. There’s nothing wrong with that; I certainly do! However, it does not always have to be that. You could be in a thinktank, or a consultant, or work for an academic publishing house, or any number of things! Although you cannot guarantee the future, it’s wise to work toward your end goal. For instance, I decided I wanted to be able to work in either a secular or a Christian collegiate environment. Unfortunately, I cannot do that with a PhD from a Christian school or seminary. Further, there are some American schools that don’t like to hire from British schools, either. Nonetheless, I would be comfortable at either type of school with respect to teaching, so I followed Birmingham’s offer. Just know what you’re getting into. There is not much worse in this area than getting a degree only to find out it’s worthless with respect to what you want to do!

6.     Count the cost

This cost-counting is in terms of time, money, and job prospects. We’ve already spoken a little about job prospects, but I should be honest here: if the sole or overwhelming reason you’re considering a PhD is a full-time, tenure-track position at a major research university, you should not do a PhD. Much like getting into the “best” PhD programs, these positions are a lottery amongst even the top candidates. I myself had to disabuse myself of this notion. I am pursuing a PhD because I believe that is what God would have me to do; I want a full-time position, but even if I do get one, it likely will not be tenured, may not be permanent, or may be in a context I didn’t envision. You may have to be willing to go international (I am, at least in principle!), or be willing to look outside of the university (other academic jobs, like publishing, for example). The point here is know that job prospects in the humanities for the dream job are dim. Be sure you understand that and can live with it.

I mentioned time as well earlier. You will likely lose 3-7 years’ worth of job experience (you likely will not have a career-style full-time job during this time) and earnings. Beyond that, you will be making a major investment whose final emotional payout won’t occur for years. Think about that for a minute. Can you go years in delayed gratification for this? Or are you likely to become very frustrated and mentally exhausted, in an unhealthy place? Don’t gloss over this question.

Finally, count the cost in terms of money. Most reputable American programs in the humanities offer full tuition remission and a stipend in exchange for TA-ing and eventually teaching undergraduate intro courses. With few exceptions, if it is an American program that doesn’t offer this, watch out.[1] However, many stipends are very low—some as low as $12,000. If you get involved with this, you need to do a thorough inventory of what this school is going to cost you and for how long. How much will you need to live there? How much will you take home? Are there fees to pay? If single, will finding roommates be easy? How much am I willing to take out in loans? This final question is huge. Student loan debt does not go away, and it’s worth it to evaluate carefully how much total debt of all kinds you have currently before answering that question.

I myself am trying a combination of my own personal funds (jobs), student loans, and fundraising to finance my PhD. We had to set a limit on what we wanted to take out in loans total. Most of all, in this area, be honest with yourself: you’re not going to buy dollar meals in boxes for five years. Having realistic numbers helps paint a picture to help you decide what to do.

7.     Speak to current students

I only did this a few times, and I wish I had done more. Why? First, because if you get in, these are the students who will become your colleagues. What are they like? Are they interested in the same AOS as you? Are they believers also? Second, because current students rarely put on a show. They’re not trying to sell you on the school. They’ll let you know the good, the bad, and the ugly. How long it really takes to get through, whether or not you can work an outside job, how accessible the profs are as supervisors, any nightmare stories, and any positive stories as well. If a student wants to warn me against going to a school for some reason, I am very likely to take it seriously. On the other hand, if a student goes out of her way to tell me her supervisor is excellent and should be considered, I am very likely to respond favorably to that as well.

8.     Know there are biases, Part 1 (Academic Background)

Unfortunately, there are definitely biases that admissions committees have. Your school could have the best accreditation and be well known in your subfield of philosophy. If the admissions committee doesn’t like it, though, it won’t matter. Here’s what I mean: there are some schools that, if you attended any school with the word “seminary” in its name, will not give you the time of day. This is not necessarily an unfounded bias, and isn’t necessarily malicious. I finally asked one school to which I was going to apply if having a philosophy degree from a seminary ruled me out of the PhD program: short story was, yes, it did. I appreciated their candor, and it saved me some time. It did make me wonder, however, if I should have found a tactful way to ask each school before I applied, and see which ones responded that there was such a bias. Bottom line: if you went to a seminary for your qualifying degree, and you want to apply to a secular school, it’s worth asking. You may receive a response ranging from “it doesn’t matter” to “you won’t be admitted here” to “you would need to do a secular master’s first.” Again, it’s just worth knowing before you dive in.

9.     Know there are biases, Part 2 (AOS)

Another mistake I made concerns the AOS. I went into it believing it should be philosophy of religion. I applied the advice given in (3), and searched. If a school had neither the strength of philosophy of religion nor a philosophy of religion professor, I just didn’t apply. Now, what I didn’t quite realize was that philosophy of religion, as an AOS, is extremely minor. That is, it doesn’t tend to get you admitted or to get you jobs. It’s best to pick one of the four major branches of philosophy (metaphysics, epistemology, logic, ethics), or a popular or major area of focus that the school is involved in (such as philosophy of science or philosophy of math). I may have unwittingly eliminated myself from schools I should not have, either by listing philosophy of religion as my AOS or by not applying because I assumed that would be. I have an MA in that area. Thus, I believe I have the strength to have that be a second AOS, while focusing on metaphysics as my primary AOS.

10.  Follow up, but don’t be annoying

Often, schools will tell you around the time you should be receiving notification (but not always). I was fortunate, in that most schools informed us around the timeframe they said they would. Do not contact the school to check on your status before the time they have given you. They are extremely busy, and it’s the academic equivalent of “Are we there yet?” However, if the school has not given you either a date or a timeframe, it’s completely acceptable to call (trust me, email can take days or even a week to be returned) and speak with someone about it. If you’re polite, and thank them for taking the time to help you, they will usually be happy to give you something.

However, some schools just keep telling you that it will be a few more weeks, and when that happens, there is still no decision. I had two such situations out of eleven, and my only advice is to be polite, patient, and persistent. Don’t be annoying, but an occasional email mentioning that you’re “just checking in to see if there has been any decision) is OK—when the timeframe the school has given you has passed. It is OK to let them know that you have other decisions riding on theirs; if they tell you, however, that it will be another week, then give them another week.

Have any other questions about my experience? Have any comments or stories you’d like to share? Do so in the comments below!

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[1] I give an exception for my own Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary and others like it. This is because their programs are designed to allow you to remain in your context, and thus you can work a full-time job to support your family.

New Apologetics Class!

Trinity Baptist College students, are you looking for an elective credit online course this summer? The Intro to Apologetics class might be for you! It’s eight weeks, online, and involves watching brief lectures, discussion forums, reading, and a couple of writing assignments. The assignments and videos are all designed to help you understand how to defend the faith, and offer positive arguments both for God’s existence and Christianity as a whole.

We are also going to look at various ways the Christian can do apologetics, and practical ways you can engage in culture and the public square. The class starts May 9^th, so you’ll want to act fast!

There may be a possibility of auditing the course as well, even if you are not currently a TBC student. For that possibility, you’ll want to check with academicoffice@tbc.edu. TBC’s website can be found at http://www.tbc.edu. I look forward to seeing you there!

The Modal Argument for Substance Dualism: A Spirited Defense, Part 1

Introduction

Within the philosophy of mind, there are several nuanced views that can be held concerning anthropology and the constitution of man. Even within views that allow for immaterial human souls, there are widely varying positions held. Particularly contentious has been the view of substance dualism (SD), also referred to as Cartesian dualism.[1] If SD is true, then, obviously, physicalist theories of mind are false; with it, likely, goes naturalism. Thus, SD can be a valuable tool in the arsenal of the Christian philosopher. Second, traditional Christian doctrine has been such that an immaterial soul is required for the intermediate state: SD can account for this, and in a way that seems intuitive and natural for the believer. Finally, we can have comfort in the death of loved ones knowing they are with the Lord. But are there any good arguments for SD? J.P. Moreland has proposed a particular version of a modal argument for SD for consideration. It is my contention that Moreland’s modal argument for SD can be justifiably held in the face of contemporary objections. First, I state the argument formally and explain the support behind each of the premises. Then, I consider three major objections to the argument and provide responses that, while not conclusive, provide reasons to think SD might survive. Finally, I give applications that may be applied for believers and the local church.

The Argument Stated

In Moreland’s book The Soul, he offers several arguments for SD. The modal argument is a particularly interesting example in that it seems to establish strongly the conclusion of SD. This is notable since, typically, arguments that purport to establish SD in reality do little more than show that physicalism is false. While doing so is surely valuable, and leaves the door open for SD, it is also consistent with types of holistic dualism (and Moreland generally wants to do more than this). This modal argument is as follows:

1.                    The law of identity is true: If x is identical to y, then whatever is true of x is true of y and vice versa.

2.                    I can strongly conceive of myself as existing disembodied.

3.                    If I can strongly conceive of some state of affairs S that S possibly obtains, then I have good grounds for believing that S is possible.

4.                    Therefore, I have good grounds for believing of myself that it is possible for me to exist and be disembodied.

5.                    If some entity x is such that it is possible for x to exist without y, then (i) x is not identical to y, and (ii) y is not essential to x.

6.                    My body (or brain) is not such that it is possible to exist disembodied, i.e., my body (or brain) is essentially physical.

7.                    Therefore, I have good grounds for believing of myself that I am not identical to my body (or brain) and that my physical body is not essential to me.[2]

The initial premise, (1), is relatively uncontroversial—if interpreted in a very specific way. (1) is often referred to as Leibniz’ Law, named for Gottfried Leibniz. Much of the recent discussion has centered around the fact that (1) seems to preclude any idea of contingent identity.[3] Contingent identity is the idea that there may be two objects, x and y, that are identical objects despite the fact they have one or more differing contingent properties. For an example, consider Socrates. In this actual world (call it W), Socrates is, say, five-foot-four in height. However, consider a nearby world, W’, where Socrates is five-foot-five. We say that the Socrates in W is the same as (or identical to) the Socrates in W’. Yet, strictly speaking, on (1) above, this is false. This is because Socrates-in-W has a property that Socrates-in-W’ does not, namely being five-foot-four, and hence they are not identical.

There are two proposed solutions to this problem—one of which will require a slight adjustment to the wording of the premise, and the other an understanding of an underlying metaphysical concept. The first solution is to adjust the Law by accounting for worlds and times. This approach is taken by Thomas McCall. He lists his principle as follows: “For any objects x and y, if x and y are identical, then for any property P, any world W, and any time t, x has P in W at t if and only if y has P in W at t.”[4]

This solution is helpful for our Socrates problem, since the property of being five-foot-four at t in W would be had by both Socrates’, and the same thing goes for the property of being five-foot-five at t in W’. Another way to view the issue would be counterfactually: If it were the case that W were the actual world, then it would be the case that Socrates is five-foot-four.

The second solution, I think, spells out the underlying metaphysical reasoning behind the first solution. It relies on Alvin Plantinga’s theory of creaturely essences. For every concrete particular agent, such as human persons, there is an abstraction called a “creaturely essence” that contains all and only the essential properties of that essence. The creaturely essence is a set of essential properties that, for Plantinga, is itself a singular property (for Socrates, he calls it Socraeity).[5] This property has what he calls “world-indexed properties,” where such a property P is world-indexed just in case “an object x has the property having P in W in a world W* if and only if x exists in W* and W includes x’s having P.”[6] Essentially, world-indexed properties for creaturely essences accomplish the same thing as McCall’s solution, even while preserving the initial formulation of (1). This is because the properties discussed have their contingencies in the worlds in which they appear and all belong to the same creaturely essence. Either way, a relevant version of the law of identity stands, and this is crucial to Moreland’s argument.

Even more than (1), (2) will be the primary point of controversy in this modal argument for SD. For a reminder, (2) is: “I can strongly conceive of myself as existing disembodied.” This “strong” conception is needed, and not what Stewart Goetz would call “weak” conception. To weakly conceive of something is, as Goetz states, a “failure to be aware.”[7] Thus, if (2) were to be weak conceivability, it would express no more than that one does not see any reason to think he is identical to his body, or that there is nothing in his awareness such that disembodiment is impossible. Such weak conceivability will not yield the conclusion Moreland draws; hence, he employs a strong conceivability. This strong conceivability is a positive; it is the ability to be aware that one can exist disembodied.

What reasons does Moreland provide for thinking (2) really is true? First, he draws relevant analogies. We strongly conceive of ourselves in particular ways that present themselves to our reasoning all the time. For example, we know that we are not the type of thing that can be subject to gradation (we are a unified individual, and not something that can become two-thirds of a person). Similarly, I can persist through change and time, and I am not merely the collection of disparate temporal or property-divided parts.[8] If this is so, then while we do not have a knock-down argument supporting (2), we do have reason to think that we could justifiably hold (2), or that we really can conceive of how we are with respect to identity or constitution, through relevant modal intuitions.

Second, Moreland argues directly from these modal intuitions. He and William Lane Craig write, “We are aware of our own self as being distinct from our bodies and from any particular mental experience we have. We simply have a basic, direct awareness of the fact that we are not identical to our bodies . . . rather, we are the selves that have a body and a conscious mental life.”[9] This direct modal acquaintance will provide the one who has such an awareness (that he can be distinct from his body) with prima facie justification for (2).

What about (3)? For a reminder, (3) is: “If I can strongly conceive of some state of affairs S that S possibly obtains, then I have good grounds for believing that S is possible.” This seems innocuous enough. This kind of move is made all the time in discussions on possible worlds or other imaginative alternate scenarios. Although he offers it in defense of (2), Moreland makes two points that apply to (3). First, he discusses near-death experiences.[10] While often dismissed without a second thought, Moreland’s point is that if people’s experiences are even possibly true, then a disembodied existence is possible (which is enough to establish his point). Second, Moreland uses other modal conceptual scenarios to support (3), including that alien life on other planets is at least possible (because he can conceive of it).[11]

(4) is an entailed conclusion, following from (2-3). (4) is stated as follows: “I have good grounds for believing of myself that it is possible for me to exist and be disembodied.” This seems fair enough, given Moreland’s argumentation so far.

(5) is stated as a nearly self-evident truth: “If some entity x is such that it is possible for x to exist without y, then (i) x is not identical to y, and (ii) y is not essential to x.” Conclusion (i) follows from the law of identity as stated in (1), and conclusion (ii) comes from an analysis of what it means to be essential. If y is essential to x, then in no possible state of affairs does x exist without y (since that is what it means to be essential).

(6) is just a definitional premise, and should not be questioned on physicalist grounds: “My body (or brain) is not such that it is possible to exist disembodied, i.e., my body (or brain) is essentially physical.”[12]

Of course, because of everything that has come before, (7) is the final conclusion of the argument for SD: “I have good grounds for believing of myself that I am not identical to my body (or brain) and that my physical body is not essential to me.” Notice Moreland needs both sides of (7) in order to establish the truth of SD. The first part of the conjunction establishes the falsehood of physicalism, while the second does away with views that require the body as essential to the person. Can Moreland’s argument survive various objections that can be lodged against it? In the next section, I explain and examine three major objections to this modal argument.

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[1] While it is true that any form of dualism that espouses more than one substance can on this basis qualify as a type of substance dualism, this paper will refer to Cartesian dualism as SD, and other forms of substance dualism (such as Thomistic hylomorphic dualism) as “holistic dualism” or some other nuanced term.

[2] J. P. Moreland, The Soul: How We Know It’s Real and Why It Matters (Chicago: Moody Publishers, 2014), 125-26.

[3] Pablo Cobreros, Paul Egre, David Ripley, et al., “Identity, Leibniz’s Law and Non-Transitive Reasoning,” Metaphysica, Vol. 14, No. 2 (October 2013:), 253-64.

[4] Thomas H. McCall, “‘I am my Body?,’” Philosophia Christi, Vol. 17, No. 1 (November 2015:), 208.

[5] Alvin Plantinga, The Nature of Necessity (New York: Clarendon Press, 1974), 71-72.

[6] Ibid., 63.

[7] Stewart Goetz, “Substance Dualism,” In Search of the Soul, Joel B. Green and Stuart L. Palmer, eds. (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2005), 44.

[8] Moreland, 127.

[9] J.P. Moreland and William Lane Craig, Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2003), 238. Of course, here it can be wondered why, then, there is any argument to be made at all. Perhaps one could respond that the modal intuition that leads to (2) entails we are souls, and the argument may be needed to expose this entailment in particular cases. As such, the argument is really meant to reveal implications of already-held beliefs or modal intuitions, and so falls in-between a knowing and showing style of argumentation.

[10] Moreland, The Soul, 127.

[11] Ibid., 125.

[12] It is true the monist who is an idealist could object to this, but a number of underlying assumptions made in this dialectic is that either some kind of physicalism is true, or some kind of dualism (holistic, SD, or otherwise). Thus, while interesting and worthy of attention, this paper will not deal with idealism.