The comedian Louis C.K. told a story during one of his appearances on CONAN about the time his dog ate so much chocolate and the difficulty of trying to save her life. I’ve watched my fair share of comedy bits on YouTube over the years, but this one in particular stuck with me. I think that’s because there’s a deeper lesson that can be derived from it.
Follow me on this quick aside before revisiting the Louis C.K. bit.
There was a debate on the Unbelievable podcast between Ben Shapiro and Alex O’Connor (also known as Cosmic Skeptic) regarding the topic of whether or not religion is good for society. If you’re interested, here it is for reference.
The podcast really does a nice job fostering constructive dialogue between people of opposing worldviews. And I thought this was surprisingly quite a cordial and engaging debate.
But my biggest takeaway from their discussion wasn’t so much on the main question being explored in the debate, but on one of the deeper philosophical questions that arose from the dialogue regarding what we claim we can and cannot know.
Ben Shapiro at several points says that his religious worldview (Judaism) does not require him to give proof of God’s existence and that he concedes there’s “a whole realm” of things he does not know. He proposes however that Alex O’Connor’s naturalistic atheism worldview does require a proof of the negative if he is going to say that everything can be explained away by naturalistic cause and effect and that there definitively is no god.
In essence, O’Connor holds a worldview that everything can be reduced to mechanical, physical, and chemical processes, like mere atoms bouncing off one another. Meaning or the sense of free will to many materialist atheists like O’Connor are illusions. They may be considered helpful illusions, but they are illusions nonetheless.
Ben Shapiro refers to his own line of argumentation as a “giant escape hatch.” That basically he can point to the transcendent, state that he believes it exists, and then just lean on the fact that he is fine with the notion that he does not, and cannot, know everything. This might seem like a slight of hand debate method or, as O’Connor calls it, an “appeal to mystery”. But, this actually demonstrates succinctly the biggest divide between many religious and naturalistic atheist-types.
O’Connor fundamentally holds the view that although he does not currently have an explanation for everything, that in theory, with enough time, we could have an explanation for everything. So often these conversations descend into the stereotypical “God of the gaps” debate that has mired many of these conversations in the past. Religious apologists poke holes in scientific discoveries to try and leave a gap for God, and the atheistic types keep trying to make arguments in a manner to close said gaps. But those arguments often fail to miss the very practical implications that these disparate worldviews have for the individual, which I think is far more important to tease out.
In Louis C.K.’s story, he had knowledge about the dog’s situation that his dog was completely unaware of. One might say, Louis had more information, more capability, and more agency to resolve the dog’s conundrum than the dog itself. And even after saving the dog’s life by getting it to consume the hydrogen peroxide to vomit the chocolate and prevent death from occurring, the dog had no real appreciation or understanding of what it was that its owner had done for it. Louis’ approach, albeit unorthodox and comical, was not truly understood by the dog.
The biggest difference between the traditional religious worldviews and many of the modern atheistic types, is this consideration for other beings with greater agency than ourselves. If we were to consider ourselves as the dog in Louis’ story, is it possible that we’re largely unaware of what might be going on above us? Many of us like to think God would be just like any other person and not operating on a completely different plane of wisdom, knowledge, agency, and capability than any one of us has. So would it be better to view the concept of God through the analogy of a dog’s experience of its owner?
Some naturalistic atheistic types might acknowledge some sense of agency within humans, something that seems to undermine their own worldview, but certainly give no credence to something potentially above us. And yet, recent cultural shifts have more and more of these types of thinkers realizing that their positions are not as iron-clad as they previously thought.
Terms like spirits, egregores, and swarms are coming up more frequently in conversations, even with esteemed cognitive scientists. Much like the function of a beehive, deep thinkers are starting to appreciate that there are clearly immaterial forces at work between and among whole groups of people that cannot be traced to a physical, mechanical, or chemical process. For some of these thinkers the admission that there is matter and “memes” or “information” is the closest they will allow themselves to get to entertaining this phenomenon.
Is it possible that there might be something above us with a type of agency that we can only understand or recognize in part? Something immaterial that causes whole groups of people to move and act in apparent unison? The materialist worldview certainly doesn’t offer explanations for it.
That’s what Ben Shapiro seems to point to. And it’s something Alex O’Connor seems reluctant to consider.
Louis C.K.’s dog, left to its own devices, would likely have died from the consumption of all that chocolate but for the bizarre (from the dog’s perspective), yet caring actions of its owner.
We need to ask ourselves whether we’re willing to admit our own limits in understanding, wisdom and knowledge and in humility ask to receive those things from above.
Shapiro might call it an escape hatch. O’Connor would call it an appeal to mystery. I would call it trust, the bedrock of any relationship, whether it be a dog and its owner or man and his maker.
Upon Reflection 